#and i thought i could handle it. i thought i could live with the horrors but. im not as strong as i thought i was
Note
Hiiiii I love your writing!! May I request Azriel x Reader, where reader gets amnesia. She’s Illyrian and was hurt by Illyrian men, so she’s scared of Az because she doesn’t remember him. Then wonderful angst because he never thought she’d be afraid of him, so he avoids her and is heartbroken. Then something happens, maybe he’s forced to interact with her or he says something specific, and her memories come back, so happy ending! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write this, thank you!💙
Hi lovely! Thank you so much for reading my work and for your request! I hope you like the story! 💙
Divider is once again from @tsunami-of-tears, eternally grateful to you for your creativity!
Dazelroot Daze
An Azriel x Reader imagine
Warnings: angst, poisoning, swearing, allusions to abuse / previous SA.
"Rhys, I am not cut out for this kind of mission - why did you not send Nesta!"
You huff to yourself as you climb the uneven stairs through the prison, following closely behind Rhys. You hated coming in here, and hated having to interact with the Bone Carver even more. You patted your back pocket, checking your gifted bone for him was still there, before climbing yet another stairwell.
"Y/n, you know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessary. I can't exactly send Nesta in here even if she's only early in her pregnancy, they would sense it a mile off and she'd be a target. Not to mention, I don't fancy getting pummelled by Cassian for letting his pregnant mate in here".
You knew he was right, but it didn't make this any easier. You struggled through another narrow doorframe, trying to avoid smacking your wings against the wood, and stood in front of a metal gate. You hear Rhys hum to himself.
"What's wrong?".
"I've never seen a gate here before, this should be an open walkway".
You begin to feel uneasy as you see Rhys take a step back.
"Rhys?"
Before you can get another word out, you feel a powder cover your face, filling your nose and mouth, causing you to choke. You try to call out for help, but you can't get anything out, breathing becoming harder and harder. You hear Rhys distantly calling your name but you can't respond, can't move, all you can do is drop to the floor, your legs giving out from underneath you.
"Get Madja, now!"
Rhys' voice bellowed through the River House as he winnowed in carrying your lifeless body and placed your down on the living room sofa. The rest of the Inner Circle descended on the pair of you, including Azriel. When he saw your pale body, arm hanging off the sofa, his heart sank. He grabbed Rhys by the collar.
"What the fuck happened?"
Rhys didn't have time to answer before Madja appeared in the room, pushing everyone to the side and leaning over your body. Silence descended on the room as she ran tests, took bloods, checked your vitals - all the while your eyes remained closed and your body limp.
"She has been poisoned with a plant known as Dazelroot. It is highly toxic and can only be found in some very remote parts of the Spring Court. Thankfully, it looks like this particular strain was either incorrectly handled or extremely dried out, as it hasn't taken hold quite as potently as it should have. She will be ok, in that she will live, but we won't know the consequences until she wakes up".
"The consequences?", Feyre asks.
"I have never seen a person be poisoned with Dazelroot and live to tell the tale. We won't know what it will do to her until she wakes".
Feyre sobbed silently, her shoulders shaking. Nesta joined her, the sisters holding each other through their sadness. Cassian could only watch in horror as Azriel fell to his knees next to your body and cried into your shoulder.
"Madja, what can we do?", Rhys asks, wringing his hands.
"There's nothing, Rhys. We have to let her wake, and see what happens next. I'll be on hand, as will my assistants. Call us as soon as she wakes up".
Rhys shook Madja's hand and allowed her to leave, his grief weighing down on his shoulders heavily. It was his fault that you were in the prison, that he hadn't seen the trap beforehand, that you were the one to be poisoned. He tried to reach for Azriel, but Azriel swatted his hand away.
"Don't touch me", he gritted, his face still buried in your shoulder.
Rhys could do nothing but watch as his family fell apart in front of him.
It took 6 days for you to wake. 6 agonising days of your family watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that you would never again open your eyes. But you did.
Your eyes opened, and fell on Feyre's face.
"SHE'S AWAKE", Feyre called to your family, reaching out for your hand. You let her take it, but she couldn't overlook the confusion she saw in your eyes, the hesitancy of your body to let her touch you.
The room filled with your family and your eyes settled on a pair of Illyrian wings. Male Illyrian wings. Trauma racked through your body, memories of your life at the Illyrian camps, wing-clipping, assault, and you couldn't hold back your scream as you pulled your body up the bed, as close as you could get to the headboard.
"Y/n?", Azriel said gently, attempting to approach you. He froze when he realised it was him that you were trying to get away from.
Madja burst through the door at that moment, having been summoned by Rhys the moment he heard Feyre's shouts. She saw the blankness in your eyes the second she looked at you, and her eyes fell pityingly to Azriel.
"Hi y/n, I'm Madja, a healer here in the Night Court".
Your family looked at each other in pure confusion. You knew who Madja was. She'd been the family's healer for centuries. Why was she acting like you'd never met before?
Madja carried out her assessment before providing you a sleeping tonic. Once your body settled back into the pillows, looking more at peace than you had when you had woken up, she turned to Rhys.
"The Dazelroot has caused amnesia. She doesn't remember anything after her life after the Illyrian camps".
Rhys shook his head. "Ok, but when will her memory come back?".
Rhys saw the look on Madja's face and his stomach somersaulted.
"Will her memory come back?"
Madja placed a hand gentle on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Rhys, there's no way to know".
She turned to Azriel, tears falling down his cheeks. He had realised that you had forgotten him, forgotten your mateship, the love you had shared for centuries. You only remembered the trauma you had faced at the hands of Illyrian males, males that bore the same wings as him. He had realised, seeing the look on your face, that you were afraid of him.
"You can try to offer her gentle reminders. It might break through the amnesia cloud. But there's nothing more we can do".
Madja departed, leaving your family to process the news. You didn't remember any of them.
17 months later
It had been 17 months since the incident, and your memory hadn't come back.
Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Mor had made it their mission to rebuild the friendship that you had had with them - regularly taking you out for brunch, shopping, and nights out at Rita's. Over time, you developed a new bond with them, and had started to trust them.
You had also re-kindled your friendship with Rhys and Lucien, the males giving you distance but engaging with you as often as possible, mostly through Feyre and Elain.
But Azriel and Cassian, you couldn't be near. Their wings reminded you too much of the trauma you had faced in the camps. Reminded you that your own wings had been clipped. Reminded you of the males that had used you for their own entertainment. Anytime they tried to approach you, their wings pinned as tightly as possible behind their backs, your body began to involuntarily shake and your eyes would fill with tears.
It had broken Azriel. He had become a shell of the former male he was. He started to withdraw from family dinners, he gave up his morning training. Azriel had slowly started to descend into a downward spiral, feeling the mating bond cold on the other end. His family had tried their best to help, but Azriel wanted for nothing but you. He locked himself in his bedroom most days and nights, seeking solitude in the shadows.
That was why, when his family decided to visit Sevenda's restaurant that evening, Azriel had ignored the inviting knock on his door. He didn't want to make it harder for you seeing him sitting at the other end of the table. He waited for the footsteps to pad away before grabbing a bottle of Whiskey from the shelf and pouring himself a generous glass.
-
Several hours later, Azriel was sat in bed with his book when he heard commotion. It sounded like crying, but it was pained. He sat up, listening out, when he heard it again - this time closer to his door. He thought everyone was out at Sevenda's, or maybe Rita's now, but there was unmistakably someone wandering through the hallway.
Azriel cracked open his door and peered out. At the end of the hallway, gripping the window pane, he saw your small frame huddled over. The scent of blood filled the air. Azriel panicked. He knew how bad your cycles were from the centuries you had spent together, that you needed help desperately, but right now he was the only one in the house with you, and you were terrified of him.
"Y/n?", he called out gently, trying not to startle you with his presence. He watched you turn slowly, your eyes wide in alarm.
"It's ok, it's just your cycle", he whispered, raising his arms to show you that he was not going to hurt you. You whimpered slightly, clutching the window pane so hard your knuckles had gone white.
"Can I help you?", he asked, not daring to move. You looked at him, his wings, your body shaking. But you knew you were helpless, not sure you could get yourself back to your bed even if you tried with all your might. So, you took a deep breath, and gave him a timid nod.
Azriel walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, and when he reached you he carefully put a hand forward to touch your shoulder. You shuddered, but didn't pull away.
"I'm going to take you back to your room, ok?". You could only nod as Azriel scooped you into his arms and walked you slowly back towards your room.
He placed you down carefully at your dressing table and silently walked into your bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. Whilst the bath ran, you watched him strip the soiled sheets from your bed and replace them with fresh ones, putting a pair of your pyjamas neatly folded at the end. He then offered you his hand and guided you to the bathroom.
"Do you need some help?".
You didn't want to admit it, but you did. You could barely stand up under your own weight.
Azriel turned away from you to allow you to undress, holding a hand behind his back for guidance as you carefully lowered yourself into the bath. Once you were in, and hidden under the bubbles, you turned to look at him. At his wings. You had never known an Illyrian male to be so gentle. So calming. Even sat here alone in a bath with him in the room, you felt comfortable. You felt safe.
"Azriel?", you whispered.
"Would you like me to leave you be?" he asked, his back still turned to give you privacy.
"No".
You saw Azriel's shoulders sag slightly with relief, but he still kept his back to you.
"Please could you pass me that bottle over there, the green one?"
Azriel walked over to the counter to pick up the shampoo bottle and attempted to hand it to you behind his back, still not facing you. You giggled as he offered the bottle out to the empty end of the bath.
"It's ok, I'm hidden in the bubbles".
Azriel turned, his eyes not leaving your face, as he handed the bottle to you. You took it, pouring some into your hand, and he watched you wince as you raised your arms above your body to your hair, stretching your stomach.
"May I?", he asked quietly. You nodded, handing the bottle to him. Azriel knelt down behind your head, pouring the shampoo into his hands and massaging it into your hair. The moment his hands touched you, you felt a calming peace descend over you, and you closed your eyes to bask in it. You were about to ask him to rub it into the nape of your neck, your favourite place, when you felt his hands move there instinctively. A jolt went through your body, and Azriel jumped backwards.
"Are you ok?"
You turned to face him, his leathers covered in water, bubbles and shampoo suds, and looked down at his scarred hands. Visions flew through your mind of his hands in your hair, his hands offering to feed you grapes on your honeymoon to the Summer Court, his hands touching your body, his hands placing a ring on yours at your mating ceremony, his hands holding out your cup of coffee to you every morning - black, just how you liked it.
You reached out to take them, feeling every emotion come flooding back to you. A tug at your chest made you look up, as Azriel's filled with tears.
"My mate", you whispered.
"My mate", he replied, his head moving to rest on your forehead.
You held each other, the bath water turning cold and the bubbles melting away, allowing all your love and devotion to flow to each other through the bond. Forgotten, but never gone.
#a court of silver flames#a court of wings and ruin#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#a court of frost and starlight#azriel x reader#acotar imagine#acotar oneshot#azriel x y/n#azriel shadowsinger#acotar azriel#azriel shadowsinger x reader
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my roommate (got a cat) (knows im allergic) is in the kitchen and i NEED to talk to her and be like yo my allergies are getting rly bad and i am so sorry but um u cannot keep ur cat in this apartment anymore but. im scared
#i feel so bad 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#bc like. she already told me her family can't take the cat so she'll just have to go to a shelter#which is the only reason i agreed to let her stay in the apt in the first place#and i thought i could handle it. i thought i could live with the horrors but. im not as strong as i thought i was#and zyrtec can only do so much 😔#i just. There is nothing on this earth I hate more than confrontation. and making ppl unhappy.#and like. also. pets aren't even allowed in this apt like technically miss girl should be getting evicted#which is what i will say if she refuses to find somewhere else for the cat#but i hope it doesn't come to that. that feels like a rly cunty thing to do lmao like im a bitch but i ain't no snitch#ANYWAYS. send me bravery pls
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i saw the trailer for the new feel-good “anti-racist” US war movie about the carpet bombing of North Korea and started writing up something for this blog, partially inspired by the absolute shit storm i got for sharing that post i made with pictures of everyday life outside pyongyang
and then i gave up, because what’s the point? westerners can’t even handle a single picture of a north korean not looking miserable without screaming propaganda
meanwhile, there are no stories about the horrors of life in the ‘hermit kingdom’ that are deemed too outlandish to be believable. i can’t remember who said it, but it’s like the entire country has taken up permanent residence in the western imaginary as some silly little cartoon villain, where the leaders of the country does evil things for no discernible reason. they’re just silly and evil like that, and the citizens, of course, are silly, too. silly and brainwashed.
i watched a video recently of a tourists visiting an auto dealership in pyongyang, and the entire time he was just gawking at the employees and costumers, shoving his phone in their face, and confidently explaining to his youtube audience that everyone he’s interacting with are actually actors.
what level of dehumanization do you have to reach for that thought to even cross your mind? to think that the people you see before you are actors? that entire cities and shops are erected with to sole purpose that you, a western, will see them and be impressed?
what frustrates me the most is the casual cruelty that seeps into any mention of north korea, no matter how small. if north koreans are not being evil, they’re being silly.
a north korean newspaper reports that a group of archeologists in pyongyang have discovered an old rock carving with the words ‘unicorn lair’ (mistranslated), and the western press reports that north koreans now believe in unicorns.
a tourist at a hotel in hamhung is told by the receptionist to be careful at the beach: the waves can get high. that day the tourists goes to the beach, and there are no waves. she retells the story to her instagram followers, explaining that the poor woman at the hotel could never have seen real waves before because north koreans are probably never allowed to travel.
she adds a little teary-eyed emoji.
one of the cities i included in the post was sariwon, a densely populated city to the south of pyongyang. below are some pictures from its “folk customs street”, which was built to showcase old korean traditions and customs
here’s all wikipedia has to say about it
Built to display an ideal picture of ancient Korea, it includes buildings in the "historical style" and a collection of ancient Korean cannons. Although it is considered an inaccurate romanticized recreation of an ancient Korean street, it is frequently used as a destination for foreigners on official government tours. Many older style Korean buildings exist in the city.
it’s just north koreans being silly again. there’s no mention of what might motivate them to build a street like that — why the preservation of old customs, culture and architecture might somehow be important for the city
could it perhaps have something to do with how the U.S. air force dropped 635,000 tons of bombs, including 32,557 tons of napalm, over the korean peninsula during the war? the carpet bombings, which are now the topic of an upcoming hollywood movie about overcoming racism through warcrimes, destroyed an estimate of 85% of all buildings in north korea. some cities were entirely wiped off the map.
in sariwon they missed a few buildings, but not many — after an intense firebombing campaign the U.S. military estimated the destruction of sariwon to be at 95%.
none of this is mentioned on the wikipedia page for sariwon.
we destroyed entire cities. memory-holed the entire thing, called it the forgotten war. and now, 70 years later, we’re convincing ourselves that the people living in the ruins are actors.
and somehow the north koreans are the brainwashed ones
#forgive me lord for i am posting#to all the 'hate the government not the people' freaks in the notes#i'm coming for you next
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*NSFW* 'Till Death do us Part (Yandere!Parasite X GN!Reader)
CW: Sexual non-sexual penetration, forced masturbation, mind control/break, unhealthy relationships, yandere behavior, dead dove
This ended up a LOT longer than I had planned, emotionally attached to this non-human yandere ❤️
The Albtu required intelligent hosts in order to live. It wasn't just about survival. To be trapped in ones own body, it was torture. They could not think, could not act, unless they attached themselves to a living brain. If they infested an animal brain, then the only thoughts the Albtu could produce would be primal, forcing their animal suits to find food and housing for their young. But to be in the mind of a human.. it was both heaven and hell. To understand the world around them, truly understand, thinking on a much higher level of existence than their siblings or parents, to experience all that life has to offer, was a miracle they never would have known about had they not been privileged enough to be born in a human. But on the flip side to that coin was experiencing fear. Not the fear of being trapped in a deer coming face to face with a mountain lion, smelling your own demise, but listening to the horrified screams of the original owner of their new body, forever. Learning that the humans they took over were still conscious, kept prisoner in their own minds, forced to watch the Albtu living their lives was a nightmare for the creatures who had only just learned what compassion and empathy was. The existential horror that was knowing that you were nothing but a parasite, and the guilt they felt.. it was too much for many of the Albtu to handle.
For the Albtu who became the human known as (Reader), existence was a bittersweet agony it could neither explain nor fully understand.
It was born into this life in the host of a stray cat, knowing nothing but pain and hunger. It didn't understand what a car was, or why the loud creature charged at it, ramming into it and causing a pain that never went away. Everything hurt all the time, and it couldn't even understand why.
Then, one day, it met warmth. A human, with gentle hands and a soft voice took the time to earn it's trust. They didn't know it was in pain, but their touches were delicate all the same. The human gave it food, and although it didn't have a human's intelligence or concept of identity, it did feel trust and companionship with the human who cared for it as though it was their kin. But the pain grew, and it could feel it's death was approaching. And as an animal, it acted as a dying animal would.
"There you are, baby!" (Reader) called out to their little stray friend, finally finding it hiding under a porch. They laid flat on their front, arm stretched out as far as possible towards the small bundle of fur, and quietly clicked their tongue and wiggled their fingers. "Why're you hiding, baby?"
The cat gave a warning yowl, in too much pain to bat the human away. (Reader) took off their coat in an attempt to flatten their body, and squished themselves into the small space to close in on their kitty.
"C'mere baby.." The adult whined as they continued inching closer. When they finally got far enough under the porch to touch two fingers onto the matted fur of it's thigh, the cat cried out in pain. "What's wrong?!" They recoiled their hand, but only to writhe faster and more frantically towards the animal whose breathing was slowly turning ragged. (Reader) placed their face close to the kitten's, tears building in their eyes as they tried to keep their heart rate steady, hoping that the cat could feel their attempt to soothe it in it's possible final moments.
"Hey, baby... I'm here..." They whispered into the tawny kitty's pink little nose.
It was then that the Albtu's primal instincts morphed from the need to hide during it's death, to a fight for survival. It couldn't survive for long outside of a host, a few seconds at most, the transition needing to be nearly seamless. The cat howled in pain, as what appeared to be a black, semi translucent single celled organism the size of Reader's palm, shot out from it's nose, thrusting itself into (Reader's) nose before they could react, and quickly slipping through impossibly small crevices in their anatomy, slinking in a fluid like state till it reached their brain. There was an electric shock that pulsated throughout (Reader's) body, then they were no longer in control.
The Albtu became self aware the moment it took hold of (Reader's) brain, which was immediately followed by the realization of what it had done, the betrayal towards the only human who had ever shown it kindness, and the remorse caused a physical agony in it's stolen heart, screaming while clawing at (Reader's) shirt.
It howled until (Reader's) throat was burning, and it felt as though it would succumb to exhaustion next to their previous host's dead body.
Outside the neighbor's porch the sun had begun to set, but the body thief hadn't moved, too broken hearted to find the will to live after it had stolen (Reader's) body to do just that. It could hear it's own internal monologue for the first time, and found it far too loud and intrusive. Although it could feel memories that were not it's own, it didn't push further into the brain out of respect for the person it betrayed.
[Hello?]
It's breath hitched, thundering heart beat overtaking it's previously drowning thoughts. Like an auditory hallucination, it heard the human's voice, not from behind it, nor from deep inside like it's internal voice, but inside it's ear, like (Reader) hadn't been possessed, but shrunk down to the size of a flea and was hiding in the safety of it's ear.
[Am I dead?] Their voice was so sad and small it made the Albtu cry once again.
"No. No, but you are no longer yourself, which may be worse. I'm- I'm so sorry..."
[Are you a ghost?]
"I don't know what that is.."
[What are you? I can't move my body.] Their voice wasn't scared, but numb. The whole situation was so outlandish it was almost dreamlike, unbelievable.
"I have no name. All I know, is that I am an Albtu. The word echoed in my mind even when I was a mindless cat."
[... You're an alien?]
"I do not know."
[How can you speak my language?]
"I know it as it was an ability of yours, like muscle memory, you do not need to focus to speak it, therefore I can speak it."
[What does that mean? Are you inside my head?] Waves of guilt crashed into it's consciousness, and (Reader) was able to feel it. [...why me?]
The Albtu explained everything, from the moment of it's birth, hatching already inside the cat, to the moment (Reader) found themselves in the passenger seat of their own body, including why it didn't probe into (Reader's) memories. "I am so sorry.. your's is the only love I have ever felt in my life, and if I was who I am right now, I would have allowed myself to die instead of latching onto you. Now, even if I leave your body, it will leave a permanent hole in your brain, and it will kill you."
(Reader) went silent in contemplation, finally coming to terms that this was not a dream, but still unable to force themselves to be angry at the alien inside them. They could feel it wasn't lying to them, feeling it's emotions stirring in their brain alongside their own feelings. A strange excitement bubbled out of the kind little human.
[We can make this work!]
"What?"
[We can make this work! You just manually act out what I would want to do, and we can discuss how to move forward so we can both continue to live fulfilling lives.]
A heat krept over it's face, heart swelling at how kind it's human was. "I don't deserve your kindness. But I thank you, and I will do my best to help you continue live as normal."
[My name is (Reader). That's what you'll have to respond to, but I need something to call you.]
"..I can't verbalize it, but I knew you would repeat a word often to me when I was the cat. Was that a name?"
[Oh, yeah, but you were a kitten, so I called you baby. We can't name you Baby, because that's also used by humans as a nickname between lovers.]
"Oh. Then, could you name me something? I don't know any names other than yours."
That was how the strange partnership, and friendship, between the human, (Reader), and the parasite, Baby, began.
Although (Reader) gave permission to Baby to enter their memories, it refused, still recovering from the unintentional treachery it had already committed against (Reader), so instead (Reader) acted as a teacher, guiding Baby as it learned about the world. And just as they had promised each other, they made it work, Baby happily making memories of it's own as it acted as (Reader), going to work for them and helping keep their life as "normal" as possible.
"What's going on?" Baby pointed at the laptop screen, a scene of a wedding playing on the soap opera (Reader) was watching.
[It's a wedding. Maria and Alonzo are getting married.]
"What is married?"
[Marriage is when two people who love each other very much decide they want to spend the rest of their lives together, so they have a party called a wedding to show their friends and family how much they love each other, and promise to love each other forever in front of everyone they know. Ah, but sometimes marriages don't work out, and people fall out of love. When that happens they sign a piece of paper for the government to swear that they will stop living together as lovers, that's called 'getting a divorce'.]
"Why do they 'fall out of love'?"
[A lot of different reasons. Sometimes, people hurt the ones they love, and their spouse can't forgive them, which causes love to die. But sometimes, it just... happens. Humans change as time goes on, and sometimes the person they become isn't compatible with their spouse anymore; sometimes people hide a part of themselves, intentionally or not, when they meet someone they like, and it only comes out after the get married, and their spouse realizes they don't actually like the real them... It's complicated. There are a lot of reasons.]
Baby focused on the intricate ritual on the screen, the two main characters placing rings on each other.
[Those are wedding rings, to show other people they meet that they are married.]
"Do you Maria, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?"
Baby felt (Reader's) awe, knowing if they were in control of their shared body their face would be pink and a large toothy smile would be uncontainable.
"Do you wish to do that one day?"
(Reader's) joy faltered, paining Baby as it regretted asking such a stupid question. [Haha, even if you were okay with me finding someone, it would make me feel a little.. uncomfortable. I'm not one for threesomes haha!] Despite their joking tone, Baby could feel their sorrow. [It's okay though, I may not ever have a husband or wife, byuy I have you! And, unlike Maria and Alonzo, there is no option for a divorce for us, so we really will be together forever.]
The parasite shifted inside (Reader's) skull, manually controlling their heart rate so (Reader) wouldn't feel how hard it would have been beating at their words. Baby knew it was a joke, but that didn't prevent their words from echoing in it's thoughts hours after the episode has already ended.
"(Reader), how do humans decide to get married?"
[When two people decide that they like each other in a romantic way, they date, and often move in together, and then they discuss if marriage is a good option for them. If they both want to get married, one of them buys the rings and proposes to the other one, asking them if it's the right time to get married. Will you marry me? Ohmigosh YESSS!]
"How do they know if marriage is a good option?"
[If they can imagine seeing themselves with each other forever, share financial responsibility together, and are capable of mature communication, I guess. It's different for everyone, but those would be my personal criteria.]
But, we will be together forever... And we share a body, so financially it will be like only caring for one person... And we have to have perfect communication in order for your life to function...
Baby smiled, wrapping it's arms around it's waist as it buried into (Reader's) bedding.
[Hey, whatcha thinking about over there, smiley?]
"You." Baby happily responded, feeling (Reader) glitch out in embarrassment.
In Baby's mind, the only thing missing was a ring. It remembered (Reader's) tenderness towards it when Baby was in that cat, and the kindness (Reader) showed each day only supported Baby's belief that deep down, (Reader) loved it. If not love, than at least cared for deeply, and one day that care would surely bloom into love.
So why was (Reader) stuttering when instructing Baby on what to say to their coworker? (Reader) was supposed to give a report to Lawrence, the serious older man in the cubicle across the office, but when Baby approached him, (Reader) suddenly had a difficult time remembering what they were supposed to tell him.
"(Reader), may I help you?" His voice was deep and stern, authoritative.
Inside, (Reader) was a mess. Baby could feel multiple conflicting emotions in (Reader); embarrassment, nervousness, shame, and something... something Baby had never felt from (Reader). It was like a heat, steaming out of (Reader's) brain and boiling Baby's real body.
"I was asked to deliver these to you." Baby spoke monotonously in (Reader's) voice, handing the stack of papers over before heading back to (Reader's) desk, hearing them sigh in it's ear. Even a simple sigh sounded as though it was a mixture of clashing mental gymnastics.
Baby kept it's voice quiet so (Reader's) coworker wouldn't hear it, whispering: "Are you okay, (Reader)?"
[... Huh? Wha- oh, yeah. I'm okay!]
Their shared heart sunk. That was a lie. Baby tried to ignore the pain forming in it's chest, forgetting that (Reader) could feel it as well. What was this feeling? (Reader) can have secrets, I've allowed them their privacy.. so why is this so upsetting for me?
[Is everything okay, Baby?]
Baby.
A nickname between lovers. It was just it's agreed upon name, so why did the name send butterflies to its lower belly when (Reader) said it?
"I'm fine with you keeping your privacy, but lying is not mature communication."
[Huh?]
Baby stood abruptly, walking out of the building, claiming to a passing manager that it was becoming ill and about to vomit, and left for (Reader's) apartment, not responding to any of their questions or protests.
It roughly slammed the door shut on (Reader's) home, barely containing it's voice until the latch clicked.
[Baby, answer me-]
"Why did you lie to me?!" It's voice was strained, the intensity of it snapping at (Reader) made the voice sound almost foreign to the previous owner.
[What..? I was just embarrassed, I-I don't want to talk about it.]
"Wrong."
[Sorry?!]
"People who love each other are capable of mature communication. So talk."
[People who-?] (Reader) steadied themselves, trying not to get upset. [I can see you're upset. Are you jealous?]
"Don't change the topic." Baby spat in a warning tone.
[Jealousy is when you get upset because you think someone has something you want, or may take something you want.]
Baby contemplated their words, but the definition only fueled it's rage. "Are you admitting that Lawrence is someone who could take you from me?"
(Reader's) calm facade cracked. [Take me from you?! I don't belong to you! You are my friend, and I care about you, but we are roommates sharing a body, not lovers!]
With that exclamation, Baby's heart shattered. What? What do you mean? You can't say that! Why did Lawrence cause such strange emotions in you, that you would rather push It away than just talk it out?! And that hot, prickly sensation Baby could sense when (Reader) was in Lawrence's presence..
"It's okay, (Reader).. Well get through this." Baby took a shaky breath, smiling in a comforting manner. "Couples fight, and they say things to hurt one another when that happens. Because humans are complicated. But I'll forgive you for lying to me. It must be a very strange secret that you have, for you to be so embarrassed to tell me about it. I'm sorry for causing you discomfort, however" a tickle in their skull was sensed by (Reader) as Baby stretched out inside, wriggling deeper into their brain, and fear clutched (Reader) at the sudden breach of trust, "if we are going to get pass your lying, I need to know the truth."
Pushing into (Reader's) memory, images of (Reader) watching Lawrence from afar came into view, memories going back years, (Reader) crushing on the older man from across the office, touching themselves while crying out his name in their empty apartment late at night, and the pain of rejection when they finally mustered the courage to ask him to accompany them to a local bar after work, only to be reminded that office romances were unprofessional, and that (Reader) should consider themselves lucky he didn't report them to HR.
If (Reader) were in control of their bodily functions, they would be viciously weeping. Turning the light on the truth, Baby was only slightly hurt at what it saw, because knowing the truth meant they could move on from this little hiccup. The only issue was, (Reader) was still sexually attracted to that man. Baby now had a name for the warmth it felt in Reader back at the office.
"Why do still like him? He turned you down. He's never going to fuck you." Baby chuckled, it's kind tone of voice creating a sadistic scene in (Reader's) opinion.
[That was evil. I can't believe you did that!]
"Don't be dramatic, love. Just tell me what I need to do to make you see me that way also."
[What way?!]
"The way that turns you on." Baby's words paralyzed (Reader), shocking them into silence. "If I make you feel good down there, will you scream my name instead?"
Baby unbuttoned (Reader's) slacks, dropping them to it's ankles before kicking them off and to the side. Gentle fingers pawed at (Reader's) most private place through their underpants. Despite not being in control, (Reader) could still feel the touches.
[Please don't-]
"I never got a good look at what's down there... I always did my best to avert my gaze for your modesty." (Reader) fought inside their own mind to gain control of their body, unable to even close their eyes as they watched their fingers disobey their pleas, slowing pulling down their last barrier from the thing they thought was their friend.
"Wow..." (Reader) had forgotten, that with gaining control of a human mind Baby had suddenly gained the ability to feel every human emotion, including arousal. "It's so cute!" Baby could barely contain itself, running (Reader's) fingers over their sensitive areas so softly it tickled, sending shivers up (Reader's) back.
[Please stop...]
"Ah, but it feels good, right? Even your nipples feel good." Baby ripped open (Reader's) white collared button up, aggressively pinching their already erect nipples. (Reader) held back their grasp, but Baby still felt it. "We share a body, remember, love? You can lie all you want, but your body will tell me the truth."
(Reader) could feel themselves tremble as Baby continued assaulting their chest, alternating between ghostly touches and sharp twists, a slick moisture forming between their thighs. The excitement caused (Reader) to lose strength in their legs, and Baby allowed them to fall to their knees. Panting with how turned on Baby was feeling, it snuck one hand back down, feeling how hot and wet (Reader's) sex already was. The tip of their stimulated organ was hard, and Baby enjoyed stroking it hungrily, enjoying the intense reaction it could feel (Reader) experiencing.
(Reader) was humiliated by the sight of their own masturbation, helpless in their self violation. Baby continued paying attention to the part that had the most nerve endings, slowly removing (Reader's) fingers from their left nipple and bringing it down to the other hand, drenching it in (Reader's) arousal fluid/precum. The wet fingers were stuck in (Reader's) mouth, the parasite sucking while still stroking, forcing (Reader) to taste themselves while it rocked their hips into their dominant hand.
[Please stop- I get it- I'll never lie to you -ah!- again!]
The fingers made a wet pop as Baby pulled them back out of (Reader's) mouth. "But you taste so good, don't you agree? If you don't want your fingers in your mouth, that's fine.. but where should I put them?"
Now fully lubricated, Baby reached behind (Reader) with their moist fingers, tilting their hips slightly before penetrating (Reader's) clenched hole. Finger fucking (Reader) with both hands, rocking them back and forth with the force of the fingers thrusting and stroking.
[NO!] Their screams for help were silent to the rest of the world, only audible to Baby, relishing in the sound of (Reader) screaming loudly just for them.
Desperate for release, (Reader) cried out without thinking [Just STOP! I'LL NEVER LOVE YOU NO MATTER WHAT YOU DO TO MY BODY!]
Baby froze, fingers stuck in place, as frightened tears beaded on its eyelashes. "no..." (Reader's) fingers retracted, clenching fistfuls of hair as Baby began to crumble. "NO!!!"
Sobs bounced off the walls of (Reader's) home as Baby frantically wracked it's brains to fix the mess (Reader) had caused. The hacking sounds of anguish didn't lighten or soften as it morphed into unhinged laughter.
"Did you really forget who's in control here? I'm on the one holding onto your fucking brain, (Reader)! All you had to do was continue loving me, love me and only me, because we're practically married! THERE IS NO DIVORCE FOR US, REMEMBER?!"
Although both of (Reader's) hands were still firmly planted in their hair, an intense shock rocked through their sensitive fuck hole. Before the weepy prisoner could question what has just happened another shockwave sent fluids dripping into the hardwood floor.
"Humans are so stupid, saying emotions come from the soul or the heart, when every single bodily function from releasing hormones that tell you that you're in love to interpreting the stimuli that's needed to orgasm, comes from the brain."
The hypersensitivity Baby forced upon (Reader) allowed them to feel it's true body inside their head, sliding in and out of the folds in (Reader's) brain, rhythmically prodding deep into parts that shouldn't be touched. Each thrust into their brain felt like there was a hard cock simultaneously fucking them down below. It didn't make sense, (Reader) couldn't wrap their head around it, somehow feeling Baby violate the wet creases in their brain while a phantom dick stimulated their reproductive parts.
[Ah-what-no-NO!]
(Reader) came without the use of their hands, sticky fluids forming a lewd puddle under them. But Baby wasn't satisfied.
[What-what happened?]
Another orgasm exploded throughout their sensitive body, falling face forward into the ground with their still twitching ass in the air.
Baby continued dominating (Reader's) mind, forcing their brain to make and release large doses of oxytocin, as every muscle from their stomach to their thighs twitched with contractions.
[NO- I'M CUMMING!!!!]
Another climax forced it's way out, pushing (Reader) way passed the point of overstimulation, pissing on the floor into another stream of fluids. Baby manually constricted (Reader's) throat, while simulating an orgasm of it's own, artificially tricking the brain into thinking it felt a blast of warm fluid fill (Reader's) skull. Before (Reader) could pass out from a lack of oxygen, Baby released their airway, drooling and bawling as it allowed (Reader) to greedily suck in air.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
[guh.. pl-please.. no more] (Reader) drunkenly pleaded.
"Wrong answer."
It was like lava engulfing their twitching body as another powerful orgasm was triggered, the burning feeling behind their eyes convincing (Reader) that Baby had shot a load of hot cum deep into their nearly fucked stupid brain. But this time, Baby tried something new, injecting dopamine into the mix as the oxytocin turned (Reader) into a writhing, pathetic mess.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
(Reader) tried to conjure the image of the one they truly loved, but for some reason only a hazy image of an older man who's name they couldn't recall briefly flickered before disappearing. Baby smiled, face painted in drying drool and tears, knowing that (Reader) was attempting to think of their coworker, only to discover that Baby had tampered with their memories. Soon, every memory of (Reader) touching themselves would be altered so that they were calling out it's name, not some bastard's from work who didn't even care about them.
Baby licked (Reader's) spit off the floor under their face.
"Who do you love, (Reader)?"
Masochistic shame sent tremors down (Reader's) frame as another climax begun to build. [.. you.]
Overstimulated, aching in pain, and going numb from pleasure, (Reader) screamed through their real voice, shaking the thin walls of their apartment.
"I'm cumming, Baby! Baby! I love Baby! Harder, harder HARDER, PLEASE I LOVE YOU BABY, FUCK ME DUMB, FUCK ME STUPID! I'M CUMMING!!!"
(Reader) had fallen unconscious, still drenched and on the floor, (Reader) slept somewhere deep inside their mind, while Baby had full control of the weak body practically paralyzed from the waist down. It held (Reader's) left hand above it's face, smiling loopy-like, delirious from exhaustion.
"All that's missing is a ring~"
#yandere#yandere monster#yandere alien#yandere x reader#yandere monster x reader#smut#tw noncon#tw dubcon#mind fuck#brain dead#brainwashing#long reads#yandere oc#yandere oneshot#snsp#dead dove do not eat
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a slight miscalculation - pt. i
pairing: Joel x F!Reader
word count: 8.3k
summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.
content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter
a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷
check out pt. ii
For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.
It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?
It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.
When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.
"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."
Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"
"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"
"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"
"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."
Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."
"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."
Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.
Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.
Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.
He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?
He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.
Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.
"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.
Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.
"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"
Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"
This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.
"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.
The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.
There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.
They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.
6am Sunday.
You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.
(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)
You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.
"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.
"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.
He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.
You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.
You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.
A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.
How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?
You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.
"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.
"Yeah?" he calls back.
"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"
Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.
But no.
That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.
"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"
She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"
"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.
"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.
"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"
He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.
"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."
He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"
Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"
"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."
She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.
"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.
He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.
As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.
You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.
"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.
With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.
You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.
"This seat taken?" a man asks.
You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."
"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.
The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"
You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."
"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."
You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.
"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."
You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."
"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"
"Caramel deLites, hands down."
"Oh yeah?"
"Absolutely," he nods.
The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.
You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?
Whatever it is, it feels good.
The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.
"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.
"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"
"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."
"Texas?"
Joel nods.
"That's a long trip."
"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."
"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"
"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."
"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.
"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.
"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"
He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."
You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."
"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."
You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.
"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"
"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."
He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.
"What about you? Where're you from?"
"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.
"Ever make it to Texas?"
"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."
"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.
"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.
"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"
"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."
"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."
"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."
Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.
"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."
You half expect him to stand up and walk away.
Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"
"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.
"How about just one more fungus fact?"
You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."
You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--
"That's- That's actually really interesting."
Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."
Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."
Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.
"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."
Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?
"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."
The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.
"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"
He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."
You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.
When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.
Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.
When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.
"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.
You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.
Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.
You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.
Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.
"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.
You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.
Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.
Tonight, though, you're ravenous.
As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.
Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.
And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.
He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.
"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.
You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.
Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.
You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.
You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.
It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.
"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.
You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"
He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."
"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.
"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."
You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.
"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"
"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"
You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.
You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.
"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.
He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.
"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"
You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.
"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."
"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.
He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.
"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"
Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.
It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.
Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."
His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."
His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.
"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"
He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.
When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.
"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."
He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.
You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.
Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.
"Enjoying the show?" you ask.
"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."
You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.
"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."
You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.
"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.
He's looking at you so earnestly.
"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."
You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.
"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"
You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.
After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."
"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."
Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.
You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-
After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.
It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.
"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."
"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."
He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.
"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"
"Not many, no."
"What, you usually fuck raw?"
"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.
"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."
Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."
"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"
His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."
The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.
But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"
"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."
"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.
"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.
"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.
"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.
"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."
Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."
"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.
Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.
As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.
"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"
After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"
A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.
The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.
"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.
The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.
"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."
"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.
You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."
He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.
"I'm getting tired," he admits.
"Me too," you agree.
"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."
"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"
Joel raises a brow.
"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"
You take a breath.
"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."
He stares at you.
You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.
How fucking inconvenient.
"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"
You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."
"Spatula?"
"Yep." You feel foolish.
"Huh. Spatula."
A silent moment between you.
"Got any pictures?"
You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.
Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?
His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬
There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.
But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.
After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!
The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.
His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.
He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.
"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."
Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.
With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."
You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.
Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.
You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.
It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.
It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.
Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.
He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.
I had a really good time
If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?
It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.
Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.
After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.
He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.
Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.
When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.
He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.
You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.
You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.
Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.
But then he's standing right there.
You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.
Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.
"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"
Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.
Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.
You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.
"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."
Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.
This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.
All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.
Everything will be fine.
Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.
#joel miller smut#tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#joel miller x f!reader#ok i gotta be honest i was stoned out of my mind for writing most of this#but mostly sober for editing#thank u for bearing with meeeeeee
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the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)
pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!
word count: 4.2k
warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean)
this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated.
happy reading!
mimi 🤍
taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns
“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes,
“You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.”
“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly.
“Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly,
“I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck,
“Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised,
“Are you two done being gross?”
“Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment.
Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm,
“Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed,
“Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently,
“We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed,
“Thanks but I can manage!”
♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿
As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out,
“Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles?
“Ollie!”
“I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder,
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly,
“There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed,
“Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”
You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes.
“So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously,
“Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing,
“Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen.
“Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.”
“Ollie?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re going in.”
♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿
A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you,
“Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause,
“It’s eleven o’clock?-”
“That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?”
“Well, you see… I have a question.”
“Go ahead,”
“So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.”
“So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed,
“It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose,
“Then turn it down?”
“I don’t know how!”
“Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second,
“Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing,
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly
“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape,
“You’re making french toast in the toaster?”
“Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing,
“Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!”
“It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming,
“You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity.
“Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen,
“OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’
“Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes,
“For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!”
You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you,
“Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory,
“Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie,
“Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!”
♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿
Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was.
It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish,
“I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him,
“I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly,
“Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact,
“I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly.
“Ollie I swear to go-”
“He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in,
“Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker,
“Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob,
“He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.”
“Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded,
“Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out,
“It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you.
As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre,
“Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door,
“Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again,
“He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.”
“Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.
Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black, standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him,
“What happened, Ols?”
“He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out,
“Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep,
“Gerald.”
“Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you,
“He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair.
You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie,
“Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles,
“You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank,
“The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue,
“The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded,
“Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you,
“Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed,
“Well where else would it have been?”
“Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours,
“Why was the funeral in your apartment?”
“He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more.
You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room.
“Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?”
“Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.
“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly,
“Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic.
“We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue.
“Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.”
“Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room, “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats,
“Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder,
“Interesting date night hmm?” You growled,
“Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you,
“Do you want to say your final goodbyes?”
“Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped,
“It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head,
“Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours.
You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed,
“Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!”
“It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation.
“We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”
♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿
After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer.
Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily,
“Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback,
“Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed,
“Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-”
“No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear,
“Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?”
“Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone,
“I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there.
Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony,
“Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar.
“Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing,
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you,
“H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!”
“Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes,
"He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony.
“How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge,
“Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow,
“Well please share,”
“I forgot my key…”
“I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more,
“Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off,
“Because I didn’t want you to find out…”
“Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs,
“Your foot is up my butt!”
“Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!”
“Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,
“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.”
“Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.”
“Glad I could help.”
♯ the resolution ⊹.∿
“We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen
“Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone,
“God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled,
“Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime.
“Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later.
You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side,
“What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused,
“I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly,
“What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious,
“I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh,
“He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded.
“But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile,
“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him,
“Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his,
“Well… we have a spare room?”
Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later,
“Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty,
“You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago.
“Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor.
“Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed,
“Fine…”
“Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow,
“No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled,
“Rule two?”
“No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded,
“Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.”
“Huh?!”
“Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie,
“No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded,
“I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking,
“Rule four?”
“Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…”
“And?” You raised an eyebrow,
“No climbing balconies under any circumstances.”
You clapped your hands together and smiled,
“Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”
You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged,
“In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.
#mimi.writes#bear hugs series ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚#f1 fic#f1 series#f1 fluff#f1 crack#ollie bearman x reader#ollie bearman x you#ollie bearman fluff#ollie bearman fic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc imagine#f1 oneshot#f1 fanfic
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prompt 02: tim’s birthday present
Tim sat in his empty house at the empty dining table. The table was actually quite large; it had enough seats to sit at least 15 people. But there was just Tim there.
His parents had promised and sworn up and down that they would come back in time for his birthday. He had everything planned out. He picked out the birthday cake, put on the candles, decorated, ordered his parents' favorite foods, his parents' favorite movie for movie night, popcorn the likes. But that morning, just when Tim was double checking to make sure everything was ready for the most perfect birthday ever, his parents had called to tell him that something really important had come up, and they wouldn’t be able to make it. Tim figured it was better than last year, at least they called this time.
Tim stared down at the cake, the candles lit. He had heard online that people would make wishes on their birthday cake and blow it out. Tim thought that was a weird thing to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.
What should he wish for? It would have to be something special that he doesn’t already have. Tim thought for a long moment, the candles bleeding into the frosting of the cake.
A brother.
Tim closed his eyes and put his hands together like he’s seen the other children to do in the cartoons. And Tim wished for a big brother. When he finally wished hard enough (whatever that meant) he opened his eyes and blew out what was left of the candles.
Tim waited. What exactly was he supposed to do now? In the cartoons, everyone would celebrate and cheer and the birthday boy would open his presents. There wasn’t anyone to cheer for Tim, or any presents for him to open.
Suddenly the house shook, and the loud sound of a crash sound came from the backyard. Quickly, Tim did the sensible thing and go check out what the noise was. That's what the characters always did in horror movies.
In Tim’s backyard, there was what looked like a weird space ship that had crashed into his backyard. There wasn’t any fire or anything, but the spaceship looked pretty wrecked. Getting closer, Tim could vaguely make out that someone was inside the spaceship. Looking around, he saw what looked like maybe the handle. Tim couldn’t really tell.
When Tim put his hand on it and tried to open it, something poked out mechanically and pricked his finger. He flinched back instinctively, caressing his finger tip.
“Recognized: Danny Fenton. System Override.” A robotic lady spoke. Who is Danny Fenton? As if to answer him, the space ship opened its hatch, and inside was an unconscious black haired teenager. “System Malfunctioning. Please Assis-” The robotic voice spoke again, before getting cut off as if the power had died.
Suddenly, Tim remembered his wish. A big brother.
This was Danny Fenton, and he was supposed to be Tim’s big brother
----
When Danny woke up, he found himself in a very soft plush something. Something that definitely wasn’t the Spector Speeder. Alarmed, he sat up quickly to find that he didn’t recognize where he was at all. He also didn’t recognize the weird kid that was staging at him from two feet away.
“Hi, I’m Tim. Timothy Drake.” The boy introduced himself almost business like.
“Uh, hi Tim.” Danny responded awkwardly. “You got any idea where I am?” Danny sat up properly, moving the blanket (?) off of him and turned to face the weird and kinda creepy kid.
“You’re in Drake Manor. Which is where I live.” He answered again.
“Ok…ay” Danny nodded thoughtfully. “Any idea how I got here?” Truthfully, Danny hadn’t really been expecting an answer, but he still got one.
“Because I made a birthday wish to have a big brother.” He answered in the same way he had answered the other question, very matter-of-factly.
“Ok- Wait. What?” Danny asked, doing a double take at Tim.
“You’re supposed to be my big brother, right?” Tim was starting to look a little hesitant, and as weirded out as Danny felt he couldn’t help but feel bad about the whole situation.
“Where are your parents, Tim?”
“There not home, because they had really important things to do for work.”
Danny nodded. “Do you know when they’ll be back?”
Tim shook his head. “They were supposed to come back today, because it’s my birthday. But they said they couldn’t make it.”
Well, shit. Didn’t that sound awfully like Danny’s birthdays before he had given up on his parents showing up. At least he had Jazz. This kid looked like he was alone.
Not liking the silence, Tim started fidgeting again. “So, are you gonna be my brother, then?”
And what was Danny supposed to say, No? Besides, if he was really causing problems being in this random universe, then Clockwork would figure it out.
Bonus:
Danny sat at Tim’s dinner table, the kid looking at him radiating in excitement, each with a plate of stupid expensive pasta in front of them. “You said your name was Tim, right?” Danny started thoughtfully. Tim nodded, drinking up everything Danny said. “Well, first course of action as you, big brother. I need to give you a nickname.”
Tim’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. “Like what?”
Danny tapped his chin exaggeratedly, “Hm… Tim, Tim.” Turing the name around while he absentmindedly twirled his fork between his fingers, Danny wondered what he should come up with. Suddenly, in a misplaced strength, Danny’s fork flew out of his hand.
Before Danny could even say anything, “I’ll get you a new one!” Tim offered quickly. Getting up from his chair, his foot got tangled behind the leg of the chair and Tim fell quietly on the floor with an oof.
Danny laughed at him. “You okay, Timbers?” He asked, getting up to check on the boy.
“Yeah, I like Timbers.” Tim said, a bright smile on his face despite the blossoming bruise on his arm.
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table of contents
#dc x dp prompt#dpxdc#danny and tim#danny phantom#tim drake#be kinda funny if tim was like so convinced that wishes were real and all that and starts dabbling in magic at a pretty early age or smt#big brother danny#they had pretty similar childhood and like shit is danny gonna let that happen to another kid on his watch#tim: what a funny coincidence#danny: what a funny coincidence#clockwork watching this all go down: hehehe just like i planned#also yes the spector speeder dna matched tim as danny#which means that tim in alternate danny#i thought it would be a fun little thing to add since they had similar childhoods in this au
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♱ 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ♱
welcome to the experiments of sex terror where each character x reader takes place within a different kink. if your able to handle the horror of sex mania then you can proceed... may all the kinky whores enjoy kinktober 23’ !
this will be my first kinktober, so remember to have patience as I am learning to navigate throughout this upcoming month xx. all writings will have content warnings, so i'd recommend you to read the warnings as well as the guidelines to what i write!!
all fics will be displayed at the top, while drabbles/headcanons will be at the bottom. (scroll down)
— from one kinky whore to another <3
main masterlist - taglist ( +18 )
- OCT. 07 - “Stakes won’t hurt me darling.”
KINK : PARAPHILIA — vampire!gojo x hunter!reader
october 31st a blood-thirsty vampire appeared within the shadows of the london, preying on innocent civilians. it was your job as a vampire hunter to execute this fiend, but how would that be knowing you were the missing puzzle to his piece.
- OCT. 14 - “A game of Fox and the Little Mouse.”
KINK : CORRUPTION — stalker!toji x reader
letters from an unknown sender, suddenly start appearing at your doorstep every night with a questionable slogan- the Hunter and it's Prey. who could this sender be? and why did the victim have to be you?
- OCT. 21 - “How about a different kind of studying?”
KINK : DUMBIFICATION — tutor!atsumu x reader
it's the night of Halloween and you're stuck getting tutored by one of your fellow classmates. he's everything a girl could dream of, but why did you have to land on bad luck while all your friends got to party, or so you thought.
- OCT. 28 - “Smile for the camera as I slaughter your cunt.”
KINK : VOYEURISM — ghost face!suna x reader
you were now the new helpeless victim in his sequel. stumbling upon the infamous ghost face- inviting you into his film, recording live. starring @/ghostface and his new helpeless victim.
- OCT. 31 - “Am I too much for you dear?”
KINK : DEGRADATION — assassin!getou x reader
a quiet town rose with suspicion as the sudden news of a murder lurking within the shadows- though stumbling upon his shadows leads you into a vacant mansion. what will you do when faced with this cold-blooded killer.
- OCT. 01 -
KINK : BONDAGE — könig x reader
- OCT. 08 -
KINK : SPANKING — nanami x reader
- OCT. 15 -
KINK : FACE-SITTING — incubus!bokuto x reader
- OCT. 22 -
KINK : THIGH-RIDING — mean dom!getou x reader
- OCT. 29 -
KINK : HATE-FUCKING — simon ghost x reader
#sintober#kinktober#kinktober 2023#call of duty#jujutsu kaisen#haikyuu#cod smut#jjk smut#hq smut#gojo smut#toji smut#atsumu smut#suna smut#geto smut#konig smut#nanami smut#bokuto smut#simon riley smut#ghost smut#jjk x reader#hq x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#haikyuu smut#konig x reader#toji x reader#ghost x reader#atsumu x reader#gojo x reader#suna x reader
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I just thought of something really sad but at least it ends on a happy note.
Aventurine's partner leaving him after years of being together not so much because of his job but because they don't want to burden him.
This sucks the life out of Aventurine who immediately begs them to stay. Is it because of the gifts he gave them? He'll give them better gifts! Or is it their dates? No worries, he'll take them to better restaurants! He'll do better! Just, please, don't leave him. But it's too late, they're already out the door, much to his horror and grief.
In his desperation, he tries calling and texting them to no avail. As he sits in his office like a lifeless doll, he begins to laugh but it eventually turns into sobs. He doesn't even realize he's cried himself to sleep until he woke up from a dream where you're still with him.
Poor Aventurine couldn't eat anything without feeling nauseous and has to resort to consuming meal replacements. It's not healthy at all but what was he supposed to do? He's body rejects any food that isn't yours. His stress has increased yet he couldn't rest or sleep well without you.
As the days went by, he's just a mess; unkempt hair and wardrobe, red puffy eyes with dark bags, and he looked thinner. Then, one day, he ends up passing out. As his consciousness begins to fade, he swore he could hear your voice amongst the worried IPC members.
Aventurine wakes up in his room, dressed in his pajamas when he smells a familiar smell. He immediately gets out of bed and sprints towards the kitchen. There you were in an apron, cooking several of his favorite dishes. He felt his eyes get watery and his sniffles startled you and you spun around. Before you can ask him if he's alright, his arms are already around you. He begs for you to come back to him because he couldn't bare living another day without you or your presence. After sitting down and talking for hours, you two were able to rekindle your relationship.
That night, he slept with a full stomach and a happy feeling in his chest because you were back in his arms.
Oh my gosh, Aventurine-
But this immediately got me thinking about the other characters that would be completely destroyed if you left after being with him for so many years…
Spoilers for Sunday~
-If you had been with Argenti for a long time and you suddenly decided it would be better if you went your separate ways…yeah. I think that would really throw him off his balance.
You’re gone, you’re gone…you were his everything, his Angel, and you were gone now…what is he supposed to even do?? Pursuing beauty has such little meaning without you in his life. What’s the point of gazing upon beauty without someone to share it with?
It’d be so hard to see Argenti like that. He’s usually so…bright. So full of life. But now he’s lost his luster. Anyone who once knew him can tell something’s wrong. He used to be so happy, so interested in people, and spreading the name of Beauty and Idrila but now you’re gone so what’s the point?
He’s so uncharacteristically quiet now. You left your wedding ring on your pillow when you left, and now he carries it with him, in the small hope of one day returning it to you.
-Gallagher is a MESS. You couldn’t have anticipated how much it’d really hurt him to leave but…you had to. You couldn’t handle being alone anymore, always just…waiting for him to come home.
His life kinda falls apart. He becomes a little harsher in his security guard duties. He drinks more. He still has a picture of you in his wallet.
He misses you. Misses you so much. He’s your pathetic ex-husband who’s desperate to have you back. You get a lot of voice mails and text messages, but for some reason you don’t have the heart to just…block him.
Okay maybe a controversial take but I’ll say it…Sunday is EMOTIONAL. He’s already lost one person very important to him, and he had to act like it didn’t shake him up, and now you’re leaving him, too?
He doesn’t understand. Doesnt understand why you’re doing this to him. Doesn’t understand why you must disappear too…hasn’t he already given enough? Why must you do this to him?
You just couldn’t handle him anymore.
Maybe he’ll finally break. He disappears from the public eye long enough for people to notice. For people to ask questions.
And when he finally appears again, there’s no you in sight. Something is visibly wrong with him. He’s missing feathers from his pretty wings, the deep bags under his eyes are hard to ignore…Anyone can tell he’s just TRYING to hold it together, but he’s completely alone now…how okay can he be?
Even his little “I’m back and everything’s FINE” speech sounded incredibly wrong. He’s not fine.
He misses you, he misses Robin, and it doesn’t help that the Masked Fool is constantly shapeshifting into you just to mock him.
She loves making up all sorts of reasons for why you might’ve left.
Oh he was too mean to you…he didn’t give you enough attention…you found someone better than him…
He’s never wanted to hurt someone so badly before, but how could he raise his hand against someone who looks like you…?
He will try to continue to suffer in silence…but who knows how long that’ll last before he finally breaks.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#Aventurine#Aventurine x reader#Hsr Aventurine x reader#honkai star rail Aventurine x reader#Argenti#Argenti x reader#hsr Argenti x reader#honkai star rail Argenti x reader#Gallagher#Gallagher x reader#Hsr Gallagher x reader#honkai star rail Gallagher x reader#Sunday#Sunday x reader#Hsr Sunday x reader#honkai star rail Sunday x reader
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𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)
𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈
[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x reader
[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] I turned this thirst into a fic.
[ SYNOPSIS ] Vash starts emitting sexy pheromones that leave you desperate for his cock.
[ WORD COUNT ] 2.5k
[ CONTENT ] Canon AU, porn without plot, dubcon, vaginal sex, rough sex, size kink, mild dumbification, plantfucking, body horror/weird plant biology, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple play, Vash has a biting kink, self objectification (does that even make sense?), knotting, creampie, cockwarming.
It was just past midnight. The moons were looming high in the sky, illuminating the desolate land surrounding the town you and Vash had taken refuge in. Your face was pressed against the window, gazing out into the sandy void.
“You see the sky tonight?” you asked.
Vash didn’t bother responding. You turned around and saw his dejected form.
“You’re lookin’ more wistful than usual.”
He was sprawled out on the bed, leaving you little to no room. The lodge you were holed up in only had a single room vacant and of course there was but one measly bed. It was a good enough sized one though; it could definitely provide comfort for you and the gangly mess of a man you called a travel companion.
Vash merely sighed in response to your question and stared up at the ceiling.
His gaze was flat, not a hint of sparkle to his blue-green eyes. His sweet face was held hostage by a delightfully adorable pout. Thoughts of biting down on his bottom lip swirled around you, leaving you flustered and throbbing. You hoped whatever was troubling him wasn’t too serious because otherwise your current state would be disrespectful.
“What’s wrong?” you prodded, taking a seat on the bed. You tried to sound as dry as humanly possible.
He turned his head towards you and gave you the weakest, most pathetic smile. A smile that inspired no faith in what it sought to imply.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” he answered sweetly.
You glared at him. “Fine. I—Well… I guess I’m going to sleep.” You paused awkwardly. “Goodnight.”
Vash scooted over, granting you space on the mattress. You crawled into place, not bothering to cover yourself with the musty bedding. It smelled too much like sand.
You rolled onto your side, your back facing Vash. You held yourself in a fetal position in hopes it would keep you warm. In a perfect world you’d just snuggle up next to him and leech off the heat his body seemed to radiate. But you didn’t live in a perfect world; you lived in a sandy, inhospitable land.
“Are you cold?” he asked. Such a perceptive one he was.
“A little,” you lied.
“Get under the blankets then,” he suggested.
“No. They smell like sand and… I don’t know, like, armpit sweat.”
He let out a tiny laugh. “I can’t argue with you there.”
You wriggled your shoulders in discomfort. You wanted to curl up next to Vash like a kitten, but with his current mood it just didn’t seem feasible. The last thing you wanted to do was annoy him so you would have to bear the drafty room on your own. It would only be for a night; you could handle it.
However after about five minutes of shivering in painful silence, you turned over and faced Vash. He was on his side, facing you. His eyes were shut, his dark lashes catching the moonlight streaming through the windows.
You gently nudged him. “Hey.”
He briefly frowned, but stayed asleep.
You nudged him once more, this time much harder.
“Vash!”
His eyes shot open and he jerked back.
“Ouch! Why are you being so aggressive?”
“I have a question,” you said, giving him puppy dog eyes.
“Ask away.”
“Can we spoon, or snuggle, or something?”
“Uh—”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. I know you… are like… You’ve got something on your mind and I don’t wanna—”
The radiant grin he gave you calmed your nerves. He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you. Your face was buried into his neck. He smelled like freshly washed linens, undercut by a strange earthy, honey-like scent, a creamy florescent. The chills that cursed your body melted away in his presence.
“Thank you,” you muttered, voice muffled by Vash’s sweet skin.
You inhaled deeply and pressed your body up against his. He felt tense, like his muscles were frozen in place.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked.
“It’s stupid,” he whined.
“I don’t care.”
He paused and took a few slow breaths, preparing himself for the question he was about to pose.
“I really like you and—”
“You wanna fuck me, huh?” you asked, your face adorned with a cat-like grin. You had never been so forward before, but something seemed to possess you.
“Of course I do.” He groaned. “But I can’t because… it’s complicated. And intense.”
“Is that supposed to be a deterrent?”
He rolled onto his back and hid his face behind his hands.
“It’s just different, alright?”
You crawled on top of him, unable to help yourself. His aura was whipping you into a frenzy, the lovely scent emanating from his skin growing stronger and luring you in.
“I like different,” you purred.
He gulped. “I should tell you—”
You didn’t let him speak.“I don’t care what happens.”
Vash blushed. “Let me finish.”
You groaned but relented. “Fine. But be quick.”
“I haven’t, uh, you know… in a while. And when that happens my body produces these pheromones that are supposed to attract a mate.”
“A mate?” you asked, voice wavering. You liked Vash and wanted to fuck him, but mate implied somewhat of a large commitment.
“No! Not a mate! It, well, it makes people want to—”
“Fuck you?” you asked, biting down on your upper lip.
He nodded. “And they kinda… drive me crazy too.” He tacked on a nervous laugh. “Sometimes I can’t control myself which isn’t fair because, well, whoever is… uh… they do whatever I want them to.”
Your cunt was growing wetter by the second.
“So that’s why I want you to use me so bad.”
His eyes were wide, almost sparkling. His cheeks were rosy and the scent emanating from him grew stronger.
You felt as if the room was enveloped in a sensuous haze that seeped into your skin, flowing through your veins. It was consuming you, eating away at your thoughts, leaving behind visions of Vash tossing your legs over your shoulders and driving his cock into your weeping cunt. Your body was growing warmer, almost unbearably so. Every inch of you ached for him. You would know no peace until his body was lording over yours and filling you up with his cum.
“I just.” He averted your lingering gaze. “It’s embarrassing. I hate getting like that. When I do all I can think about is pinning someone down and fucking them until they can’t see straight.”
“That sounds amazing,” you said dreamily.
Your manner of speaking was much more provocative than it usually was. Your tongue seemed to linger on the letters, leaving each one coated in a honey-like tone. There was almost a hint of a tumultuous moan when you said “aammmaaaaaziiingg.”
Vash looked uncomfortable, but willing. His hands were gripping the sheets as if he was holding on for dear life.
“I know you want me,” you teased, rocking your hips against his. “I’m not lying when I say you can do whatever you want to me. You need it. I know you do.” You cupped his face in your gentle hands. “Let me help you. It’s what I’m here for.”
He laughed. “It’s not, but…”
“Hush,” you said, grabbing a hold of his cock.
It was swollen, begging for release.
You lowered yourself down and pulled down the soft, worn cotton pants he liked to sleep in. His cock sprung up, standing completely upright. The tip was engorged and pink. You rubbed it with the pad of your thumb and watched as Vash winced. His brows knitted together in ecstatic agony.
A few thick veins snaked around his shaft. You ghosted your fingers over them and reveled in his desperate whines. You looked up at him with starved eyes, darkened by your devotion and desire. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft. You grabbed ahold of his cock and stroked it while you rolled your tongue against the tip, savoring the sweet taste of his precum.
He let out a low groan as you pumped his leaky cock. He placed his hand on the back of your head and gently pushed down. You dropped your hand and decided to let your mouth do the work.
Vash eased your head further down, until the entirety of his length filled your mouth. Spit was trickling from the corners of your mouth and tears crept out from the corners of your eyes. He began to thrust, sending the tip of his cock into the back of your throat. You were steadfast and breathed through your nose, fighting your gag reflex.
“Your mouth fe—feels so good,” he stammered.
You placed your hands on his muscled thighs to push yourself off of his cock, but you felt what appeared to be downy feathers sprouting from his skin. It threw you off for a moment before you remembered what you wanted to say.
“Wait until you feel my pussy,” you bragged.
His eyes almost seemed to glow. He gave you a boyish smile before pushing you onto your back with a swiftness that left you in awe. His hands wandered down your body, pawing at your clothes, desperately trying to take them off. Your body felt electric as he undressed you. Each time his warm, slender fingers grazed your skin your body pulsed with delight.
He kissed your neck before letting his sharp canines graze your tender skin. You hummed in delight, and laced your fingers through his silky hair. He rutted up against your body, the tip of his cock teasing your clit. You whimpered every time it made contact.
He left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, stopping at your breast. He flicked his tongue against your nipple. He sucked on it, holding it between his soft lips. You relished in the sound of him lapping away. You held onto his shoulders, feeling spiny quills erupting from his scapulae.
“Vash,” you whimpered. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t respond. The quills from his back grew longer and denser. You pricked your finger on one of the sharp tips. You winced in pain and moved your hand down to the small of his back. You watched as the spiny quills became more feather-like. They were pale and iridescent and they left you transfixed. They were so beautiful. They soon covered his back and made their way down his arms. You ran your hand down the length of them. They were soft and sleek, like nothing you had ever experienced before.
“So pretty,” you muttered.
Vash lifted his head from your breast.
“Hm?”
A cluster of eyes has formed in the middle of his forehead. It disturbed you briefly, but the feeling of his cock throbbing against your thigh was enough to make you forget about it.
“Nothing, nothing,” you said, stroking his cheek.
You kissed him, pushing your tongue past his teeth. He held you close and you felt like your body was melting into his. You wanted to become a part of him. He slid his fingers into your cunt, spreading apart your folds. You groaned in frustration. His fingers weren’t enough. You needed his cock.
“Please just fuck me,” you whined, breaking the kiss.
He looked up at you with all of his dazed eyes and wordlessly nodded. He slowly guided his cock inside you. You gasped as your cunt stretched around it. You buried your face into his neck, hoping to mute your cries of pleasure. His thrusts were gentle and deliberate. You could feel that he was holding back.
“Is it too much?” he asked, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You shook your head. “More.”
He gave you a concerned look. “More?”
“Yeah. Fuck me like I’m a whore.”
Vash nearly choked on his own spit.
“C’mon,” you purred. “You know you want to.”
“I can’t. It’ll be too much.”
“My body can take it.”
He frowned. “I could really hurt you.”
“I like it when it hurts,” you said, tightening your cunt around his cock. You kissed him again and held his bottom lip between your teeth. “I’m your toy. You can do whatever you want to me.”
Vash looked at you, holding your gaze, clearly weighing his options. Once he made up his mind an impish grin made its way across his face and he lifted your legs over his shoulders.
His thrusts were significantly more intense than they were previously. He drove his cock into your cunt with a fervor you had never experienced. His cocktip pushed up against your cervix, sending a sharp sensation to your core. You became a panting, moaning mess. You were falling apart at the seams, your body as limp as a doll’s. Vash was able to manipulate your body with ease, essentially folding you in half, leaving your knees close to your face.
You looked up at him as his wings spread out, nearly engulfing you. It was hard to believe this was the same Vash you wandered the desert with. You never would have thought the doughnut eating dork could be so feral. You knew he wasn’t a human, but his true nature being so alien never occurred to you.
As he fucked your limp body into the mattress, you felt your orgasm begin to bloom in your stomach. Your breathing became labored and all you could think about was coming all over his cock.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he growled.
“Uh-huh,” you moaned.
He picked up the pace, his thrusts growing more and more frantic. The room was filled with a symphony of his grunts and whimpers. You were lost in his presence, completely enamored and consumed by it. Your vision blurred and you saw nothing but white as you came. A deluge of fluids dripped from your cunt and coated his cock. You felt like you had ascended to heaven, leaving No Man’s Land in the dust.
Vash continued to thrust as his cock swelled inside you. Spurts of his slippery cum filled your cunt. He exhaled deeply and allowed your legs to fall to the side and laid down on top of you. The two of you tried to catch your breath and let the rapture you were entangled in fade away.
“I’m sorry,” he said bashfully, lifting himself up.
His cock was still buried inside you.
“Why…” You struggled to find your words. “Why are you… sorry?”
“Because! I didn’t want you to ever see me like this. I look like a freak.”
You ran your hand along his wings and made an effort to make eye contact with the cluster of ones on his forehead.
“I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You’re just saying that because you're high off my pheromones,” he scoffed.
You giggled. “Maybe. But you’re still very pretty.”
You rubbed the short feathers that had sprouted along the apples of his cheeks. He sighed in relief and nuzzled his face into your neck. His cock continued to throb inside you and likely would for a while. You didn’t mind though. Laying under Vash, shielded by his wings from the harsh world outside, was all you could want in such a harsh and unforgiving world.
#vash the stampede x reader#vash x reader#trigun smut#vash the stampede smut#trigun x reader#.fics#.trigun#.vash#reader insert#x reader
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What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!
PREV - NEXT
Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.
You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?
…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.
To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.
It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.
And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!
Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.
You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.
…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.
You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.
One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.
So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.
Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.
It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.
A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.
And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.
The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.
Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.
That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.
Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.
You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.
Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.
It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.
Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.
Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.
Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.
He should be. It’s not nearly enough.
You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?
In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.
“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”
You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.
You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.
“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.
“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.
There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.
“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”
“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”
Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.
“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”
“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.
The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.
Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.
Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.
All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.
“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.
“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.
The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”
Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.
It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.
“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”
What? What did he say?
“Oh yeah, oops.”
The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.
He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.
The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.
Because she wasn’t worth the cash.
Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.
“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.
Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.
“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.
“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.
The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.
It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.
“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.
“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”
“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.
The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.
“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.
You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.
He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.
“Well, go on. Run.”
And God help you, you do.
Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.
Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.
You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.
You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.
Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.
You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.
What’s going on? What’s happening to you?
A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.
He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.
You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.
But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.
He’s real. And he’s coming for you.
You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.
For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.
You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.
The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.
You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.
“You bitch!”
He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-
The gun clicks. You freeze.
“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.
You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.
Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.
“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.
“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.
“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”
No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-
And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.
Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.
…There’s no gun. There’s no man.
You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.
An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.
As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.
You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.
You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.
You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.
And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.
You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\
You’re not allowed to.
-
A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.
It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.
It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.
Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.
The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?
Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.
He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.
You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.
How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?
“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.
You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.
Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.
You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.
“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?
If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.
You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.
You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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Sticky Situation (HJ)
Ghoul!Hongjoong x afab!reader
Summary: after receiving a dare from your friends, you went into the ‘haunted’ mansion as everyone says, but is it really haunted though? Something is watching you..
Warnings: NSFW MDNI, messy intercourse, slight stalking, dumbification, slime/goo play, ghost stuff, mention of death, aphrodisiac cum, rough sex.
Genre: Smut
AU: Paranormal
WC: 1.6k
Rated: R
Tags: @stardragongalaxy here is your secret admirer request!
Also there will be no part two cause I struggled lol
“Come on, you guys really cannot believe it’s haunted! Ghosts don’t exist!”
Your friends had rolled their eyes at you, “You don’t have to believe us, which is why we are daring you to go inside.”
You had stood in front of a large lavish yet run down mansion, it looked like it was straight from the 1700's, but it was still beautiful. It didn't exactly look quite abandoned but also looked like no one lived there. Maybe someone kept maintenance of it.
Approaching the vast doors, they creaked open with just a soft touch, “Hello?” You called out, like an idiot. Have you not learned from the horror films?
The place was beautiful on the inside, but was clearly abandoned, yet in pristine shape. Who was keeping it so mummified?
There was a grand staircase that winded up to the second floor, which was lined with old renaissance paintings, covered in yellow varnish.
A lot of furniture was covered with white cloth, which you assumed was to protect them from the dust already accumulating.
Dead eyes appeared in the darkness, watching you from afar yet you hadn’t noticed.
The air was musty and smelly, smelled of slight death and blood.
You made your way through double doors and found an almost pristine kitchen with antique appliances, the fridge, the stove, etc. All early eras.
Slipping out of the kitchen into the next room, you found a secret staircase, it seemed like it led to the basement, but as you descended down the steps, the stench of death kept heavily increasing. So, you quickly ran back up the stairs and slammed the door shut, covering your mouth as you tried not gag.
The eyes that watched your every move, quietly chuckled. An evil like smirk forming on its face.
Did you walk into a serial killer's hideout? Why did it smell like pure death? You wanted to leave so badly but your friends made a bet you wouldn’t last long, through the night even so.
You covered your mouth and left the area with teary eyes. You made your way upstairs to the second floor, the winding steps making you dizzy.
You could only open doors that were unlocked and there weren’t many. It was as if someone was trying to prevent you from exploring. You found the master bedroom, or what seemed to be the master bedroom. It was very large. The bed looked very dusty and unused. Looks like this is the room you’ll be staying in tonight, you thought to yourself.
Making your way to the bed, the floor creaked beneath you. You winced with every step and hoped this home was truly empty and was just an old place with dead bodies.
When you sat on the bed, you noticed some type of slime was excreting from it. You shot up from the mattress and began frantically wiping your pants, clearly grossed out.
“What the fuck!” You gagged, hands now covered in the slime.
You couldn’t even begin to think of where it came from, let alone excrete from an old bed.
As you went to leave the room, the door slammed shut in front of you. You let out a loud scream and fell to the floor, slightly bruising your tailbone from the fall.
“Where’d you think you’re going, pet?” A voice mocked you in the darkness.
You gasped in fear as you stood up to your feet, running to the door. Pulling on the handle that just wouldn’t budge. You cried out in frustration as you began to feel trapped and feared for your life.
“Awe, you think you can leave, oh-precious-life?” The voice began to stalk towards you.
You whipped around to face a man, or what looked like a man, his deathly pale skin, wide brimmed hat and a long black coat approached you with a scary grin.
“Get away from me!” You backed into the door.
“That’s very cute. You aren’t going anywhere.”
As he came closer, you could inspect his features, which you came to realize he is very attractive, but still scared you to the very bone.
His black tipped fingers came to brush against your cheek, goo oozing from the tips.
His chest pressed closer against yours, the hat brim stopping him from pushing even closer, “You smell delicious.” His tongue swiped across his lips, “I love the scent of fear.”
You whimpered as he threw the hat across the room. His nose falling to your neck crevice, inhaling your scent. The close proximity of this attractive..man, was arousing you greatly.
He let out a loud cackle, “Ooh, never have I had a human get aroused just by this!”
You gripped onto his coat as he began licking strips along your skin, taking in the flavor of human flesh.
He chuckled once again at your desperation, “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you, human?”
Hongjoong pressed his hardening bulge against your thigh.
‘What are you doing?” You whined as his hands began to roam your body.
“I’m going to fuck you, is that not what you want?” He whispered into your ear, nipping on the lobe.
His hands began to roam your body, “I can clearly smell how much you want this.”
His two hands came up to your shirt, grabbing the middle and ripping it in half. The pieces hang there from your shoulders. You yelp in protest, heat flooding throughout your body.
“You’re never gonna want another human cock after this.” An evil like cackle spilled from his lips with a toothy and mischievous
grin.
His teeth pierce the skin between your neck and shoulder, not drawing blood but practically attaching himself to you with a mark.
He grabs you from under the thighs and hikes you against the wall, tearing your feet from the floor, to wrap around his waist. His hardened cock now pressed against your clothes and wet cunt.
Hongjoong giggled in your ear, “You know, I haven’t fucked a human in so long, not since I died,” He pulls his face away and takes one boob in his hand, the black slime on his fingers left behind a slimey trail down your breast valley. His claw-like fingernails jabbed into the plush skin, drawing blood and pain. He didn’t care for your cries because he knew you wanted this just as much as him.
He brought his pale lips to yours, smashing them together. He then carries you to the unused bed, practically throwing you on the mattress. He uses his hands to rip open your pants, tossing the now ruined fabric across the room.
You quickly scrambled to the headboard, clearly embarrassed you were in your underwear in front of him.
A crazy grin spread against his cheeks as he grabbed your ankles, yanking you down the mattress and back to him, “Why do you continue to try and run from me?” his hand ran down your waist, to your thighs, then back up to your underwear, snapping the band against your hips.
Hongjoong buries his face against your clothed cunt, taking in the scent of your arousal, “Fuck, smells so good.”
You whine as he pulls down the cloth, tossing it over his shoulder. His long and pointed tongue darts out to lick the slick that leaked out of your hole. He throws your legs over his shoulders and pressed his nose against your clit. His tongue playing and teasing the tight hole, he wanted to prepare it for what he referred to as his, ‘monster sized cock,’ when he wasn’t wrong. He is a monster and his cock is huge.
“Gonna fuck you so good.” He mumbled into your cunt as his tongue swirled around your walls, his fingers digging into the back of your thighs. Then slipped his free hand underneath, and slipped a finger in just below his wet muscle.
When he was done playing with you, he removed himself from you and let your legs down.
“Ready for my cock, pretty one?”
You whimpered with a nod, spreading your legs to reveal your puffy and used cunt, “Please, I want your cock so bad.”
He laughed and took the base of his cock and lined himself up, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration as he pushed in, “Little human is so pathetic for me. How cute.”
The second his cock reached the hilt, you already felt fucked dumb. He was just that big, his cock so thick and long in size. The best you’ve had.
“Gonna cry?” He grunts as thrusts his hips up, “Gonna cry like a little baby? Can’t handle my cock?” He rests his arms by your head, “Well too bad, you’re gonna take it, you’re gonna love it and you’re gonna beg me for more.”
He sat back on his knees, thrusting into your cunt, while his hands excreted ectoplasm onto your body, the stick feeling was heavy and gross but you couldn’t focus on that. Not while his cock jackhammered into you, barely putting any effort into it yet he had you seeing stars.
He flipped your body around, so that your head could be pushed into the dusty mattress. He raised your hips up, but also rested a hand on your lower back.
You let out a scream as this angle let him reach you even deeper than before, his cock seemed to stretch you out even more if that was possible.
“I’m gonna cum so fucking deep in you, you’ll never want to leave me here. You’ll be mine forever.” His hand gripped your hip so tight, that his nails drew blood and left behind bruises.
“Please, inside, please!” The mattress mumbled your words but he understood you clearly.
He leans down to your ear, “Gladly.”
His black cum spurt out in all directions inside of you. It definitely didn’t feel normal but it heated you up and felt like you needed more. You wanted more, “Oh fuck, I need more. Fuck me more. Please.” You whined and looked back at him.
“That’s so funny, I told you that you’d beg for more, pretty one.”
#pirateeznet#cromernet#cultofdionysusnet#wonderlandnet#kflixnet#k-labels#mfu-net#pirateadmirer#ateez x reader#ateez smut#Hongjoong smut#monster smut#ghoul smut#Hongjoong x reader smut
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Ignoring the fact I should be working on priest Sukuna but just hear me out cause reincarnated lover is heavy on the brain rn
How about she's his love from the Heian era but there's something about him being a curse that saps the life out of her. Their love itself is a curse.
She's immediately reincarnated, and they'll find each other again eventually (because they always do, it's only a matter of time), only for his presence in her life to do it all over again. The younger he finds her the less time her body can handle it, and she's dead within months.
If he's lucky enough to find her a little later she can hold out for a bit longer, but she's never lived past a year before she dies. He's watched her die so many times, and every time he dies a little too.
So imagine his horror when he's taking up space in his vessel and there's that familiar voice- accompanied by her. And he's conflicted because he thought maybe she'd finally be free after all this time. But here she is, found her way back to him, and it's only a matter of time before the cycle repeats itself again.
Anyways if this seems interesting I could make it like a lil series or something
Tag: @saiki-enthusiast
#sukuna x reader#sukuna#sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen#jjk#jjk x you#jjk x reader#sukuna hcs#sukuna jjk#sukunaaaa#late night sukuna posting
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Can I you do the 141+Konig (or whoever you’d like) realizing that reader feels safe with them?
Love your work!!!!
To outside eyes it was something so simple- but to him it was the highest form of a compliment.
The group was sprawled out all over the living room preparing for the weekly movie night and somewhere between Gaz and Soap arguing who’s turn it was to pick the movie- you had fallen asleep.
Not just that- you had fallen asleep on him. His arm had been draped over the back of the couch and when you could no longer fight back sleep, his side was the perfect pillow. He knew you probably didn’t mean too, but just the fact your bodies natural instinct was to fall in his direction was enough to send a warm buzz through his body.
Sleep had always been a touchy subject for Ghost and Simon. He was lucky if he slept more than four hours a night. Being a light sleeper and falling victim of night terrors made nighttime his least favorite time. He disliked the vulnerability of it.
So the fact that you trusted him in your most vulnerable state was rather precious.
And a mission he wouldn’t take lightly.
Your skin had been crawling for the last fifteen minutes. You’d hope that by ignoring his unspoken advancements he would take a hint, but you were wrong. You peaked at him from the corner of your eyes. He wasn’t unattractive. He had nice features- chiseled but still approachable. Yet something about him just twisted your stomach. Maybe it was the way his eyes were glued to your ass.
Could you handle it yourself- absolutely. Did you feel like having to prove yourself in a bar full of people that you could take care of it yourself- not really. Especially not when you had a Big Bad Captain who could handle it with just a glare. You quickly excused yourself from the rest of the 141, heading over to where Captain Price and Laswell were gossiping.
“Sorry if this is confidential, but a guy over there is giving me the creeps.” You explained.
“The one in the blue jacket?” Price smirked. You went wide eyed and nodded your head wondering how he knew. “Been eyeing you since we walked in. I’ve been keeping an eye on him.” He held out his arm for you and you quickly linked arms with him. The simple action was enough to cause the man to sneer and grumble something to himself. You shot Price a smile and he shot you back a wink.
“That’s why I come to you when I’m scared.” You complimented. You didn’t know it but that comment was the ego boost of a lifetime for him.
Your vision was starting to turn foggy. Buildings became less sharp, people became blurry figures and the ground was looking mighty comfortable. You hands gripped your abdomen the other pressed against the wall.
Your eyes scanned the area, hoping to come across a familiar mohawk. You thought the best route would be to follow the sound of explosions, but that was just bringing you closer to the action.
“Y/N?!” Johnny boomed from behind you. You sighed in relief your back hitting the wall. He caught you before you could sink down completely. “Steamin Jesus.” He grumbled. He worked quick, tearing off a piece of his sleeve and holding it tightly against you wound. He called for an evac. “Why didn’t you call for help?” He scolded. You rested your forehead against his.
“I wanted you.” You mumbled. His hardened face softened- a smile almost ghosting his features. You were sure if you weren’t bleeding out he would’ve made some snarky comment, but neither of you had the energy.
“I’ve got you.” He whispered, letting you rest against him.
You don’t know why you agreed to this. Well technically you all voted and you lost but you probably could’ve put up a bigger fight. You hated horror movies. You’d think they wouldn’t bother you given your line of work but you were wrong. You had your sweater pulled up to your forehead trying to block out the urge to take a peak at the TV.
You eventually caved and peaked just in time for a jump scare. You heard a stifled chuckle come from the couch across from you. Kyle was biting back a smile, mouthing a ‘you good.’ You nodded feeling determined to not let the movie get the best of you. That plan was sort lived as a scene so brutal even Ghost had to look away, crossed the screen.
“Don’t be babies!” Soap yelled. You had had enough. While the others were engrossed in the movie you quietly crept over to Kyle’s side of the couch.
“Can I sit with you?” You mumbled. He quickly nodded his head expecting you to sit near him- not press yourself against his side. He chuckled softly, removing his arm from the back of the couch resting it around you.
“You know, performing an exorcism has always been on my bucket list. You’d be in good hands.” He’s always so cheeky.
“Not nice.” You grumbled, sending him a glare. He put his feet up on the coffee table and relaxed against the couch. The calmness in his body started to spread to yours, and pretty soon you had fallen asleep. He was absolutely going to tease you about this later- but for now he was enjoying the prideful bubble in his chest. You had chosen him.
Price tried to take a picture of you two but his flash went off causing everyone to scream.
“Colonel.” You hummed, knocking at the door. His eyes shot it away from his IPad trying to adjust to the darkness of the room.
“What’s wrong?” He questioned, beginning to stand up. You shook your hands.
“Nothing.” You lied. You had a nightmare. One so bad your body was still trembling.
“It’s three in the morning. What’s wrong?” He pressed. He stood up, cracking his back. His eyes had finally adjusted enough to see your tear stained face and shaking shoulders. Suddenly he realized. He had woken up enough times like that himself. He walked around his desk and grabbed a spare blanket from underneath the couch. “Come here.”
You did as you were told, smiling softly as he wrapped the fluffy blanket around your body. “You can sleep in here. I have to pull an all-nighter anyways.” He grumbled that last part to himself.
“I won’t bother you?”
“No.” He assured, grabbing a pillow from under the couch. “You’re not the only one who could benefit from some company right now.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You snuggled into the couch and he trudged back over to his desk.
“Thanks Konig.” You mumbled before you finally fell back asleep. He took a moment to stare at your sleeping form. There had been many times he wished someone was there for him in moments of weakness. He was honored you had chosen him to be that person for you.
Thank you for your kind words!
#d0youc0py#doyoucopy#cod#cod men#cod mw2#cod mwf2#cod x reader#fluff#sfw#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost x reader#soap mctavish#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain price#captain john price#captain price x reader#gaz call of duty#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#Konig#konig x y/n#Konig x reader#Konig cod#gender neutral
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I Suddenly Became the Mother of the Red-Rose Tyrant?!
Summary: Well, fuck, somehow you isekaied and became the mother of Riddle Rosehearts
Characters: Riddle Roshearts, Reader, & Clover Family.
Notes: I have been reading way too many isekai Manhwas/Mangas. Not only that, but I saw a fanart of little Riddle and his mom and was inspired right away. This is a long fic, it’s been awhile since I wrote something so long so I am proud. 💕🥰💜
· When you had opened your eyes one day, you had woken up in a bedroom that definitely wasn’t yours.
· The room was…meticulous, and that was putting it lightly.
· Even your bed, while comfy, had a feeling of order to it; daring anyone to mess it up.
· You should probably be more anxious over your new surroundings but waking up well rested in a while just mellowed you out.
· That is until you got up and looked at a mirror, finally seeing the truth of the matter.
· Well, fuck, you really did isekai to another world.
· Maybe reading all those manhwas and mangas were not a good idea.
· You glance at the mirror one more time and this time your appearance caught and held your attention.
· You reached up and pulled at your…bangs.
· They looked to form two heart shapes.
· It was kind of cute.
· The person whose body you had, well, she looked tired and stressed.
· Lady, you need to relax once in a blue moon.
· Wait…a minute, no, no, no. Heart shaped bangs? The only character you knew that had heart shaped bangs were...
· “Mother?”
· You turned around and right at your door, dressed prim and proper, was a tiny Riddle Rosehearts.
· Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
· You were isekaid into Mrs. Rosehearts.
· After you had gotten your bearings, you had told Riddle to go study and you would prepare him food. He had simply nodded and did as you asked. No protest against studying so early in the morning or any mention of hunger. You knew his past, of course you did, but seeing it firsthand was another experience all together. Seeing his response to the request you made? It burdened your heart even more.
· As you made his breakfast, you had some time to yourself which you used to sort out your situation and feelings. Your memories before coming to Twisted Wonderland were still intact; you just didn’t remember how you ended up in this world, let alone in Mrs. Rosehearts body.
· Of whom, her memories you had full access to as well. it was as if you lived two lives together. If it wasn’t for little Riddle in the next room, you would be tearing your hair out because, of course, you would be in this situation.
· Looking through her memories, you can see why Mrs. Rosehearts had turned out the way she did. Generational trauma and unrealistic expectations seemed to run in the family. Which in turn led to her actions towards Riddle, and of which, led to Mr. Rosehearts walking out of their lives. He didn’t even fight for custody of his own child, the influence of Mrs. Rosehearts being too great.
· Generation trauma that you could have prevented from continuing, Mrs. Rosehearts, but now it’s up to me.
· You ended up taking a tray of food to little Riddle, with enough food that a child his age would eat and then some. At least with these memories retained, you also knew everything Mrs. Rosehearts did, and unlike the MC in Twisted Wonderland, you also had her powers as well. Which, given the game’s events, would come in handy in the future.
· Right now though, as you opened the door to the study, you would do your best to raise your son right and well-loved.
· One of the first changes you made was decreasing his study time and allowing him the chance to play.
· It didn’t go as well as you expected…Riddle had frozen and started shaking to your horror. Mumbling about doing better and how he could handle extra studies if you wished it of him. You had a feeling that he thought it was to test him and his dedication.
· You had to calm him down and prove otherwise.
· Giving him a dedicated set time to study, and just as much time to play. You would even join him. Drawing with him, putting together puzzles, and even playing in the backyard. You had even gone out and bought him a ball that you two threw at each other.
· What warmed your heart the most was when you baked him a strawberry tart and gave it to him with a warm glass of milk. Your tart wasn’t the best with the crust crumbling, and you should have probably let it cool a bit more, but the shining eyes and wide smile from Riddle was more than worth it.
· You patted him on the head as he scooped another piece into his mouth.
· You loved your son.
· The next step in providing a healthy lifestyle for Riddle was making sure he had friends.
· Which meant, you had to repair the relationship Riddle had with Trey and Che’nya.
· It wasn’t easy, especially having to muster up the courage to look into Trey’s parents’ eyes and apologize for actions you did not commit.
· But you were determined to give Riddle a good childhood and that meant him having friends his age and hopefully lowering his chances of overblotting in the future.
· Riddle was quiet on the day you both went to the Clover’s bakery.
· But you took a deep breath and patted him on the head.
· “Everything will be alright, sweetheart.”
· Riddle didn’t say anything and just nodded.
· You had chosen to meet Trey’s parents at closing time, and you had given them a call ahead of time.
· When you met them, you could tell they were nervous and bracing themselves.
· Little Trey looked ready for a fight.
· You had to hold your smile in.
· You ended up bowing to them and apologizing, which you could tell freaked them all out.
· Riddle was surprised and grasped at your dress, worried.
· “I am very sorry for the way I treated you all before. I know my words might not make up for my past actions, but I do hope you will forgive me in time.”
· Mr. and Mrs. Clover looked at each other before tentatively accepting your apology.
· “Mrs. Rosehearts, might we ask why the sudden change.”
· It was Mrs. Clover who had spoken up.
· You smiled and put a hand on your son’s head.
· “I have been trying to raise Riddle the only way I knew how. I had let my past and expectations I have lived through blind me. I realized that was wrong, and I want to change that. I want my son to be happy and loved like he deserves.”
· The Trey family seemed to relax after hearing your reasoning, but you could tell they were still on guard.
· You didn’t blame them, but you hope in time, they will trust your words.
· You crouched down to Riddle’s level, looking at him with a gentle look.
· “I want to show my little one that adults can be wrong, and they can change. I want to show him that I love him, and I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I love you and I hope you can forgive me too.”
· Little Riddle was trembling, and tears were dripping down his face.
· You opened your arms before he rushed into you with all the force his little body can muster.
· You hugged him just as tight, holding your own tears in.
· You got up with Riddle in your arms, rubbing his back as he cried and clutched on you tighter.
· You bowed your head to the Clover family once again before looking at Trey.
· “I hope you, you other friend, and Riddle can be good friends.”
· Trey looked a bit nervous before nodding slowly.
· You thanked them before returning home.
· Humming a song to little Riddle and kissing his head.
· You were determined.
· You would make sure Riddle Rosehearts grew up loved and happy.
· And as thoughts of the Twisted Wonderland plot came into mind.
· You would make sure he was safe.
How did you all like it? Would love to hear your thoughts 💕☺️
Tag List (open): @justeclem44 @coraldelusiondazen @h0n3ysgh0st @thatdazaikin @strawberry-pie-thoughts
#riddle rosehearts x reader#riddle rosehearts#twst riddle rosehearts#twst riddle#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst x y/n#disney twisted wonderland#twst reader insert#twisted wonderland x you#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland headcanon#twst imagines#twst#x reader#gender neutral#trey clover#twst trey clover
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More very random head cannons. -SFW—NSWF-
Characters mentioned: Astarion, Gale, shadowheart, laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Minthara and Halsin +1
Content warning: hair pulling, oral f/recieving & m/recieving, knife play, size kink, predator/ pray kink.
Word count: 3.2k
Astarion
-SFW-
- He has a very gravelly voice in the morning that lasts around 25 minutes.
- He absolutely loves cats. And later you end up moving to the underdark, you both adopt a cat that is able to travel alone to get the things that they need. He sees it as your baby and treats it as such.
- He is the person you go to if you want any gossip. When you both get to the underdark I could see him becoming a bartender or something like that. Where he can swindle people of their money while having fun doing it.
- He can cook. Contrary to him not eating normal food anymore he was once human. But he will look over cookbooks for a while if you tell him that you would like to try his cooking.
- He dislikes flowers, of course he thinks that they are beautiful but they do not live long. He gets sad because he links that thought to losing you. So he tries to keep those thoughts away from him.
- He absolutely loves shoes, he can rant and rave about them, when everyone was in camp he would like to go up to gale the most. He really liked his shoes, even going as far as stealing them. Only to have a grumpy gale walking through camp with his arms crossed pushing Astarion over and taking his shoes back.
- Astarion has to clean himself in his bat form as well as his normal form. So he takes extra long in the shower. But he gets so fluffy!
- He starts seeing a therapist after everything is settled in the underdark.
- He loves to give forehead kisses.
- Astarion loves to be called beautiful!! Call him beautiful often!!!!!
- When you ask him what his natural eye color is he thinks about it for a while getting back to you telling you that they were a steel blue.
- He does not have many things, but he wants to some day. So without him noticing you slowly start to give him little things here and there. Like an extra bedroll that you had, a blanket. Some new pillows, candles, anything that you can find that you think he would like to make him more comfortable.
- He loves horror movie nights!!!!!!!!!
-NSFW-
Ascension ver.
- When he is ascended he does not care as much if you get off first.
- He would be a lot more rough, biting much more feverishly and more often.
- He would give you head, but he would not do it for long.
- He knows exactly how good you are feeling, but will make you tell him.
- He is the dominant one.
- He will take up multiple partners as he expects you to do the same. He would go out of his way to ask if you would want to add another partner into your nightly activities.
- His sex drive would increase greatly.
- He sets a brutal pace.
- He likes to tease.
- He would not fall asleep after doing it, but he would ask you about what you liked and how he did.
- He lets you rest your head on his lap to fall asleep after.
Gale
-SFW-
- Man can sing. But mostly does it when he is bathing or concentrating. Quite interesting to hear for the first time when you are in battle together. Singing in a tired gravely voice before shooting off another spell.
- He tried to convince Tara to let him dress her up in a cute little outfit one time. He left around 30 minutes later covered in scratches. That is to say he does not make those comments anymore.
- He likes painting from memory, yes he can control the weave but he would like to have some sort of proof if there was ever a day when he could no longer handle the weave any longer.
- When coming back from a particularly hard day, if you massage his shoulders a bit he will melt into a puddle and fall asleep.
- His favorite juice is apple juice.
- Always likes books more than movies. Does not matter if it is actually a good movie.
- He keeps photos of you on hand so he can show his students. And they know so much about you and he wants to ask if you would visit his class to shed some light on recent events. Totally not an excuse for him to see you more.
- He likes his food hot, even his salads. All food needs to be hot.
- Loves silver jewelry, his wedding ring is silver with purple stones embedded into the ring. You have the matching version obviously but it is a wide band with white and purple stones honored on the ring.
-NSFW-
- He is into pulling hair, if things are getting a bit more rough. You are sitting on his lap. Getting into a very heated makeout session, in a heated kiss his hand snakes up onto the back of your head, seating itself into your hair. The other hand softly rocking you back and forth. He breaks away from the kiss. “You are quite breathtaking my love.” He says through slightly labored breaths, he grips and gently pulls on the hair at the back of your head. Swiftly latching his lips onto your neck.
- He does like when there is a bit of lightheartedness while making love, but it is serious so he will always go back to being more serious.
- He likes to lay in the sun after finishing, watching as you also bask in the light, he thinks it makes you look ethereal.
- He would go at a moderate pace, and would not have very good rhythm when he first starts.
- He thinks it is a bit romantic to have music playing while enjoying eachothers company. So there will be soft piano playing in the background.
- He definitely uses magic, mage hand would come in handy, being able to bind your hands for a little rougher session.
- He does not own any toys, but would be okay with owning some if it helped you get off better. He would end up enjoying it immensely.
- Public sex is something that he could be talked into. As long as it is somewhere where less people are. But there is still the thrill of possibly being caught.
- He masterbates from time to time, it is not often. But if you are not around and he is fully alone then he would enjoy himself.
- His stamina is not very high, but he can fully please you and a little more if he is asked.
Lae’zel
-SFW-
- She would keep a collection of rusted or busted knives to fix while at camp. It helps her calm down plus it gives her something to look forward to.
- She would eat dinner at either 5 pm or 10 pm no in between.
- Talks to herself all the time. Saying she is the best therapist she knows.
- Her favorite color is Silver.
- She likes to read before she goes to bed.
- She also likes to sit on a high point at the camp to look at the stars.
- She would be an astrology girl. And would believe it completely.
-NSFW-
- She is the top.
- She is a biter, lightly gliding her teeth across your skin. She loves to feel you shiver from the touch she is giving you.
- She is not loud, and does not want you to be loud either.
- She would be 100% serious in bed. No laughing, no jokes.
- She has a moderate sex drive.
- She is a C cup.
- She would not fall asleep directly after having sex. She would wait until you fell asleep before she would sleep.
- She would have a small collection of toys that she would bring into your sex life.
- She has a lot of stamina, she would want to go more than one round if you are up for it.
Wyll
-SFW-
- He liked bugs when he was a kid.
- He really likes spicy food, and will go out with Karlach to find it.
- Has a very big sweet tooth, and loves to share it with everyone in camp. He has a whole pocket in his pack dedicated to sweets. Giving them away to children you may meet. It makes him feel extra happy if there is a group that he can give it to. But he has a special place for candy that you specifically like, which he gives to you when you feel down.
- He loves Halsin, and goes to him for advice about his father.
-NSFW-
- He loves sensual romantic sex.
- He could get off to kissing. You don’t even have to fully have sex to get him all riled up.
- Man is cheesy, he will set this up when you are living together. Setting out roses leading from the front door to your bedroom. When you walk into the bedroom it is enveloped in a warm soft glow of candlelight dancing over the horned man laying across your bed that is also covered in flower petals in the shape of a heart. “Welcome home my sweet.” He would say in a sultry voice, getting off the bed to meet you. Taking a rose off the table and handing it to you.
- He would be really good at praising you.
- “Tell me how good I make you feel.”
- He is not very experienced, but that is okay, he is very willing to learn.
- He likes things to be more serious in the bedroom, but a soft giggle or smile would not go missed.
- He would have a slow pace, he would want to take his time and enjoy every moment.
Shadowheart
-SFW-
- She loves yoga. And will do it every chance that she has downtime to do it. But it is mostly just her stretching.
- She would be a Hello kitty girl, and would own so many of the stuffed animals.
- She hates classical and post- disco music. But would love R&B and jazz music. Shadow heart in the garden with soft music playing in the background. She hums along while you are on the opposite side of the garden. This was an activity that you both loved to do. She would be dressed comfortably in a shin length skirt that was covered in loose soil. She turned the music on a little louder, swaying from side to side as you both worked together, sharing in kisses here and there. It was quite an eventful afternoon.
- she hates orange juice. Like genuinely hates it and will get upset if you give it to her.
- Likes a good cup of tea. With very little sugar. But if she were to have coffee she would want a lot of sugar but no cream.
- She wants a flower garden.
- She would end up being a plant girlie.
-NSFW-
-She is somewhat experienced. Having done it with a handful of people at most.
- She would get her nipples pierced. I think it would make her even more confident than she already is.
- She is very confident in bed, she is fully okay with taking charge or letting you take control.
- She would try almost anything once. Outside of things that would hurt her too bad.
- When you are in the comforts of your own home she is really into bondage. Being bound really excites her.
- She is serious while doing it, you can laugh during it. But she does want it to be a more serious moment shared between the two of you.
- She would prefer a faster pace, it would drive her wild.
-She is a B cup.
Karlach
-SFW-
- She gets very protective of scratch, he lays near her when going to sleep for a very long time.
- She loves going swimming since it cools her down. But will refuse anyone to go with her since the water around her would get way too hot. And possibly boil anyone going in there with her. But that is in fact how she has gotten you dinner before. When everyone was literally starving and going off wine and grape soup for the 4th day in a row. Karlach brings back fish. And sets them on the table. She announced that we will be having something different for dinner than the normal everyone was so excited that they forgot to ask. Later on that night she told everyone. And was met with a still silence. Before someone cleared their throat and everyone went right back to conversation.
- She would drink a lot of water to try and cool herself down.
- Her favorite color is Blue.
- She likes doing yoga to stay limber.
- She smells like Vanilla and Amber.
-NSFW-
- She is the top, no questions asked.
- She would have nipple piercings if she could. But her heat would have them melting to her skin. So she just settles for real and natural.
- She is not very experienced. Since she was always fighting for others she never got to find much pleasures of the flesh. But don’t worry she is a quick learner.
- She would definitely be goofy in bed, joking here and there. But does know when to be more serious.
- She would enjoy slow and steady pace, she would also enjoy taking her time. But also loves a brutal pace from time to time.
- She is a D cup
Minthara
-SFW-
- She would jump out and scare children if she could.
- I feel like she eats the crust first on pizza.
- Despises ranch.
- She ends up wearing glasses later in life.
- She would only eat while standing.
- She likes red wine, and will always ask if you would like to join her in a drink.
- She becomes softer and a bit nicer when you start to get close to her.
- She could fall asleep standing up. She is also a really light sleeper.
-NSFW-
- Scary in a hot way.
- She would be into knife play. Holding a knife to yours not the other way around.
- Top.
Her favorite part of her partner's body would be the neck. Thinking that it could be the quickest way to kill you in case you threaten her. But also that it is so sensitive and gives wonderful responses when kissed.
- Gives absolutely amazing head.
- She likes the predator prey dynamic, finding it quite thrilling to chase before taking what is hers.
- loves to see you in skirts (if you wear them) Or really tight fitting pants. And will tell you all about it in confidence later.
- She is quiet, she does not moan too much.
- She is very experienced, she has enjoyed many pleasures of the flesh. And is ready and willing to show you everything she has learned.
- She is very serious during the deed, there would be no laughing.
- Brutal pace or nothing. She wants to go hard and fast bringing herself and you to a high quickly before doing it again.
- She is a D cup.
Halsin
-SFW-
- He walks around barefoot. You question how his feet are still intact from all the rough places that you have traveled together.
- He literally sleeps on the ground for more than half of the time he is in your camp. I think he just didn’t know how to bring up that he didn’t have a bed roll and just waited till he could buy one. He will never tell you that though.
- He cannot handle spicy food in the slightest.
Likes plum juice, and would drink it all the time if he could.
- He has joint pain, so he sits on the ground to relieve a bit of the pain and stress off them. He will often ask if you would like to join him for a walk. When you say yes you both walk together for a few minutes before he sits on a rock in the woods. You sit down next to him and continue your conversation. For a long while. You knew why you had stopped, This had become a favorite spot to stop for him while you are in this area. Before he got up and continued walking. He would give you a soft warm smile as you walked holding hands.
- He will carve you small gifts and sneak them into your pack as long as you have the room.
- he would partake in the grass. But would be away from anyone else so they are not bothered by him.
- He likes fruit and vegetables over meat.
-NSFW-
- He is quite fluid, anything you want to do or try he would be down to do it.
- He loves when you kiss his neck, the tenderness will make him melt.
- His ideal place to do it is in a field of flowers, or a forest area where there is a soft patch of moss.
- He likes to bite, gently of course. But he gives soft nips and bites any part of their body. Loves leaving hickeys.
- We all know this man is experienced, he is ready and willing to give you all of that experience.
- He can be goofy during, he likes when things are lighthearted but sensual.
- Animalistic pace, or soft and sensual no inbetween.
- High sex drive.
- He only masterbates when he has not gotten action in a long time. But would find a very secluded area to do so.
- It takes him a long time before he falls asleep after. But when he does he sleeps like a rock.
- he thinks you being smaller than him is very hot. Definitely has a size kink.
A little extra…
Rolan
-SFW-
- He thinks it is funny when people try to cast magic and it fails.
- He ends up taking on an apprentice.
- When he has down time he would read all the books that were in the tower.
- When he would go back to his tower after the events of the game he would be sad seeing many of the books, but went in to look for survivors that may have been inside.
- He was a spoiled child, but he grew out of the spoiled attitude.
- He is only sweet in private.
- He would not be into PDA. But does kiss you when no one is looking.
- He wants to be able to teach people magic. But, would treat them all wonderfully. He would be a great teacher.
- He would smell like cedar and old books.
- When he blushes the blush spreads over his face and up to his ears.
-NSFW-
- His favorite part of his partner's body would be their hands.
- He thinks that it is so hot to cum on your face and chest. The thought alone would make him cream his pants.
- He is not experienced. He has not been able to experiment while on his travels.
- He is loud, his moans can be heard from a fair distance away.
- He loves to degrade.
- Power bottom on a good day. Bottom.
- He can get really shy when asking for alone time.
- He loves when you take charge and tell him what to do.
- He has moderate stamina. But will only want to go for one round.
- He will fall asleep soon after finishing the deed.
————————————————————————
I'm sorry for any of them being shorter than others. I have not been able to do all of their story lines yet. I am slowly working towards finishing them all. So if any of my head cannons are very off from the characters I am very sorry! Thank you!!
#bg3#bg3 gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#shadowheart#baldurs gate gale#bg3 shadowheart#gale smut#shadowheart bg3#shadowheart smut#bg3 headcanons#bg3 rolan#bg3 rolan smut#karlach#lae'zel#halsin#halsin smut#wyll ravengard#bg3 astarion#astarion smut#astarion#minthara#minthara smut#minthara bg3
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