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fluentmoviequoter · 3 days ago

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The Cat Gets It

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim finally meets your cat, Maverick, and it does not go as planned. Maverick hates Tim until he sees something special.

Warnings: just an angry cat and a lot of fluff

Word Count: 1.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

“This is my least favorite part,” you tell Tim as he walks you to your car. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You have to go home sometime,” he reminds you.

“Would you consider… Do you want to come to my place this weekend? We can watch a movie, just have a quiet night in,” you propose. “Not that I don’t love our usual dates, but…”

Tim smiles as you shrug and answer, “I’d like that. I’ll meet you there?”

You nod and assure him you’ll send the address before you kiss him goodnight. As you walk into your home, you look around and make a mental list of things you must do to prepare for Tim’s first visit to your home. You have been dating for a while, but he’s yet to come here. Or meet your cat, you remember as he meows from the back of the couch.

“Hi, Mav, buddy,” you greet, rubbing his soft fur. “We need to make this place extra welcoming for Tim, okay?”

He grumbles beneath you, but when you move your hand to scratch beneath his chin, he purrs and pushes against you. You’re excited to have Tim over, but you have no idea how Maverick, who is used to being the only guy in the house and your life, will respond.

“Hi!” you exclaim, wrapping Tim in an awkward hug before you invite him in. “What’s in the bag?”

“Just some snacks I remember you saying you liked,” Tim answers, passing the bag to you. “And cat treats.”

“You’re such a softie, Tim Bradford.”

Tim rolls his eyes and follows you inside, closing and locking the door behind him. You invite him to make himself at home as you walk toward the kitchen to prepare the snacks. A loud hiss pulls your attention back to the living room, and Tim lifts his hand in a show of good faith as Maverick arches his back and hisses again.

“Mav, stop,” you call. “Sorry, Tim, he’s never like that.”

Tim raises his brows like he doesn’t quite believe you. You pour the snacks into a large bowl with divided sections and carry it to the coffee table. You step toward Tim, and Maverick’s tail curls around him as he crouches. His ears flatten against his head as his pupils dilate.

“He does not like me,” Tim says quietly.

“I’ll put him in the other room,” you offer. “Sorry again.”

“It’s fine,” Tim assures.

You reach for Maverick, and he swats at you before running under the couch. With furrowed brows, you place your hands on your hips and sigh.

“He’s touchy,” you explain weakly. “He’ll probably hide under the couch until you leave, or I can receive permanent scarring by pulling him out.”

“I’m attached to your pretty skin, so I’d prefer the first option,” he responds.

“He- hopefully he’ll warm up to you.”

“This will get awkward if he doesn’t.”

You’re prepared to agree, then see the gentle smile on Tim’s face. As you sit beside him for movie night, only hearing hints of Maverick’s continued hissing, you silently plead with your cat to stop hating Tim because, even if you haven’t told him yet, you truly love Tim Bradford.

Throughout the next week, Tim comes by twice more, and Maverick reacts the same as before. He lunged toward Tim once because he touched your waist, and since then, Tim has kept at least a foot between you during visits. He sits on the floor, offers treats under the couch, and has private conversations with Maverick. Yet, Maverick continues to hate your boyfriend for some unknown reason.

“I don’t understand why he’s like this,” you say against Tim’s shoulder, content in a warm hug outside your front door.

“He’ll warm up to me, or he won’t, and we’ll deal with that,” Tim assures you, rubbing your back. “Maybe a few days in lockup would make him see how good I am.”

You chuckle, and after you wave goodbye to Tim, you turn and see Maverick watching you from the window.

“Work with me, Mav,” you ask through the window.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced,” Tim says as you open the door. “I just… can I come in?”

“Of course,” you reply, pulling the door open so he can enter. “Are you okay?”

Tim sighs as you close the door, and when you see his face, you notice the crease between his brows. He’s tired and stressed, and though you’re ecstatic that he came to you, your heart squeezes at the idea of Tim having a hard time.

“Come here,” you whisper, welcoming Tim into your arms.

He wraps his arms around your waist as yours circle his shoulders. With his face pressed against your shoulder, you rub his back and let him find comfort in silence for as long as he needs.

“Thank you,” Tim says as he straightens and steps back. “I went by the store on my way over here. Let me make you dinner?”

“After the week you’ve had? How about I make you dinner?” you counter.

“Meet in the middle and make dinner together?” Tim asks.

You smile and nod, offering your hand to make the deal official. Tim shakes it once, then kisses your knuckle and spins you quickly. The move makes you laugh before you catch yourself against his chest.

You stand together and feel Maverick’s tail swipe across your shin. You look down, surprised to see him circling your legs contently, especially while standing close to Tim. After a few laps around you, Maverick moves in a figure eight to walk around Tim, too.

“I think that’s progress,” you whisper.

“Maybe he finally saw that I care about you, and I’m not trying to take his place,” Tim adds. “Right, Mav?” Maverick freezes at the mention of his name, and Tim murmurs, “Too soon? I get it.”

Three days after the first successful visit, you invite Tim over again. You prepare a light dinner and set the table, only moving Maverick away from the place settings twice before Tim lets himself in. Maverick jumps from the barstool at your island and runs toward Tim, circling his legs and purring happily. Tim bends over and pulls Maverick to his chest, offering a small treat from his palm.

“Well,” you say as you take a picture. “It seems like my boys are finally getting along.”

“Maybe we finally bonded over our shared love for you,” Tim replies, gently rubbing Maverick’s ears.

“Tim,” you say, setting your phone down. “Put Maverick on the couch.”

“Why?” Tim asks defensively. “If it was too soon-“

“Please?”

Tim sighs as he moves Maverick to a couch cushion, and you smile as you rush toward him. Tim catches you effortlessly after you jump, holding you around the waist as your arms and legs circle him in a tight hug.

“I love you,” you say against his shoulder. His strong arms flex around your waist as you pull back to look at him. “I love you, Tim.”

He smiles and moves a hand to your face. “I love you, too. More than you know.”

“You dealt with Mav plotting your death, I have an idea.”

“No, you don’t,” Tim argues with a smile. Maverick meows loudly from the couch, and he adds, “See? Mav gets it.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

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honeyxbunny99 · 3 days ago

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Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt. 9

Charlie stepped between you and the gate and held up his hands. “Don’t you think if there’s a chance he could help—“

“I don’t want to be near him, I don’t want to see his face again! If you were older you could understand—“

“Fuck, would you stop treating me like an infant! I understand plenty!” His yelling caused your response to stutter and halt. “I understand that the man you thought you loved betrayed you. That he chose to hurt you over Joffrey and believe me I understand hatred!.. I understand that you’re being a selfish idiot by putting your pride first instead of your safety! There are people who care about you, (Y/n); me, Anna, your family, and yes even the hound! If you stay here you’ll die!”

His eyes were watery as you absorbed the weight of his words. “Then let me out.” You whispered, ashamed to ask. You wanted to cry with him but took your chance and held out your hand. Charlie’s eyes went between yours and Anna’s behind you. Charlie sniffled and slowly grabbed the large iron ring of keys from his waist. The keys were almost in your hand when the main iron gate slammed open and the three of you jumped in surprise.

“Fuckin’ knew it, ya little shit!” The man’s voice matched the anger in his face and he marched toward Charlie with his hand raised.

Charlie stammered and flinched before the man even arrived and the stranger quickly delivered a back handed blow to the boy. Charlie was flung back by the power of it against the gate and the man snatched the keys out of his hand. You gasped and grabbed the man by the shoulders and tried to pull him away from Charlie, but he reacted quicker than you could in your weakened state and when he turned around, his knuckles met your eye. You fell down hard and gripped your eye, watching your vision pool with blood.

“You were gonna let her out, weren’t ya?! You weak fuckin’ brat!” He scolded and pushed Charlie out of the way so he could unlock your cage.

“No, no I wasn’t—“

The man you guessed was the kennel-master grabbed an iron bar from the pouch of his bloodstained leather apron. “You want to try that again, boy?!”

“I’m sorry!” “Leave him alone!” You demanded, reaching again to try to stop the man as you watched Anna dart for the door. The man turned and kicked you down, his heel directly in your ribs. When the back of your head hit the stone floor you decided not to fight anymore. You heard one final blow land to Charlie’s arm and he cried out, dropping to his knees. The Kennel-master continued on opening the gate and ranting before he fisted his hand in your hair and dragged you into the cage.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Charlie repeated weakly as the kennel master separated the dogs into their own cells. You realized when you had the nerve to bring your eyes to the boy that he was actually apologizing to you. He sat slumped against the other side of your cage and reached a hand behind him through the bars. You dragged your knuckles across the stone to meet him there and matched his weak grip.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

The Kennel-master finished and hollered at Charlie, raising his weapon again and Charlie scrambled to his feet and out of sight without another word. You heard the final gate lock and brought a hand to the back of your head, relieved to find no blood. You were left with Dhalia, who came when you called her and began to lick your hand. She’ll be hungry soon. We all will be. Still, tonight she looked up at you with her familiar sad eyes and you pet the top of her head when she curled up beside you.

Charlie was right. You were being selfish, proud, and weak. In spite of all your talk, you did not want to die in here. Littlefinger. You pulled at your hair in frustration and groaned.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)!” Sandor’s voice at the entrance made you gasp and sent your heartbeat to an alarming pace. “(Y/n) are you in there, what the fuck is going on?!” His tone was angry and you flinched and trembled. You heard the gate rattle and the dogs began to growl and bark. “Damn it, Anna, get me someone who can open this fucking gate!” In spite of your fear you called out to her. “A-Anna?” You heard two taps on the gate and her exasperated sigh of relief. You heard Sandor’s gruff voice mutter something to her but you couldn’t make it out. Your mind was doing backflips trying to figure out why he was here and why he was so angry. Eventually the dog’s barking quieted and you tried to calm yourself as well. Suddenly Anna’s little paper book was tossed through the high window of your cell and you hesitated to take it. Dhalia sniffed at the open pages and looked up at you curiously. When you finally got the nerve to stand you winced audibly at the pain in your ribs and dizziness in your head. You walked over to grab the book and saw that it was folded open on the page with the heart once again. You felt anger and sadness rise up in your chest together as you stared at it. You readied yourself to throw it back. “I don’t want it—“ you stopped cold as you looked at the window and saw Sandor looking back at you past the bars. From the momentary silence, you’d assumed he’d gone, and you were horrified to find him so close. He wore the same frown as the day you met him.

How could she bring him here? It took everything in you in that moment not to tear the book to shreds, but you couldn’t break eye contact with the beast staring you down. His eyes scanned over you and you realized then how atrocious you must have looked. Swollen, bloody, unkempt, and dressed in rags. His stare felt punishing and you hated him more for it. Go on, look. Look what you’ve done to me. Boldly you took a deep breath and walked to the window, daring to toss the book through it right beside his face. He looked down at you, face illuminated only by the rising moon. He was so tall that he didn’t have to reach for a view of you, and you wondered for a second if what you’d heard was true. If the hound lurked around the kennels at night, watched over you as you slept.

“Anna dragged me here.” He finally spoke lowly.

“Sorry to inconvenience you-“ “Oh for fucks sake!” He cried out and latched his hands onto the bars and you instinctively took a step back. “I just wanted to check if you were hurt.”

You narrowed your gaze and flared your nostrils in anger. “If?… if I was hurt?” You smirked at the ridiculousness. “I’m lovely. Now leave.”

The hound stepped out of view but you held your breath in anticipation. Outside of the kennel, Anna held her hands up to stop him and he growled out, “Would you fuck off already?! Bloody useless…”

Anna opened her mouth in offense but saw how hurt and confused he was by this interaction. She boldly motioned for him to continue speaking to you and then retreated back on her way to the Red Keep. In the quiet of the evening, you could hear his strong breathing and his feet shuffle in the dirt right outside.

“Who did that to your eye, it’s fresh.” Finally came. You scoffed lightly and muttered, “No shit… It’s none of your concern. I don’t want you here, I don’t know why Anna brought you—She’s an imbecile.” You were still fuming with her.

“Obviously she brought me to protect you.” “Yeah, you’re good at that, aren’t you… My hero.” He growled in response and you heard his heavy steps begin to stomp away, “Fuck you!” “Fuck you!” You shouted, racing up to the wall. As you stood on your tiptoes, you watched him turn on his heel toward you but you weren’t afraid. “You’re the reason I’m in here, don’t you dare for a second forget that!”

“You think that I could?!”

“And yet you rush so nobly to my rescue— You’ve actually convinced Anna somehow that it was all real, that you still care for me—“

He gripped the bars by your hands furiously. “If I could go back and change it I wouldn’t! We would have died before we made it out of the Keep! I’m a big fucker, tough to kill but I’m still a man— One man alright? You want your head on a pike?! They’d make me watch it!!” He shouted in your face and being so close you actually saw tears in his eyes.

Your lip quivered and you bit down hard in attempt to still it. “We would have died together at least..” you couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “I wouldn’t hate you the way that I do now.”

His eyes widened in surprise and his grip loosened on the bars. His fingers brushed against yours before dropping out of view completely. The tears flowed as freely as the words did now for you.

“I have never had this much hatred in my heart. I hate you! I hate Joffrey and Cersei and Petyr Baelish and my father and that bloody kennel master and I hate myself!” You cried, sinking weakly to your knees. “Cersei was right… I should have died the first day I walked into the Keep… it would have been a mercy on so many.” You buried your face in your hands, reflecting on all the pain you’d caused. You were utterly defeated, your head buzzed with hunger and weariness. “I am sorry, Sandor Clegane, for all the pain I have caused you. But I never want to see you again. Just let me die…” Your voice was so soft you couldn’t be sure he heard it. You were too exhausted to care.

“I failed you.” His voice sounded crippled with emotions, a tremble in his normally strong voice. Your eyes were closed now as you had collapsed against the stone floor. All you could do was breathe and listen. “You were my new dream, the only good one I’ve ever had… I was supposed to protect you.. and I failed.”

You heard a crack of thunder and flinched, curling into a ball. The pitter patter of rain melting into the dirt suddenly surrounded your senses. You wished, in your desperate state, that you had Sandor’s cloak to shield you from the chill now present in the air. “Forgive me.” He finished before he couldn’t bare the sight of you like that anymore. He ran away and locked himself up in his room again.

That night, you dreamt of a house. A simple one like the one you were raised in, with a fire burning in the hearth of its place to keep warm. You were sewing up a blouse and when the fire began to die down, you walked over to your front door and saw Sandor chopping more wood for you. When he turned and saw you, he smiled and flexed his muscular arms. You laughed and beckoned him inside.

As soon as you turned back around, however, the dream was gone. Your eyes squinted against the bright light pouring in from every possible angle and you brought your arm up to provide more coverage. As you regained your senses you realized what had woken you. You gasped and pulled your entire body back when you saw Dahlia licking blood from your thighs. Your mind transported you to that alley, that hound. Not again, please not again. You stood and backed yourself into a corner, cowering in fear. The dog sniffed in your direction once more but walked away—not desperate enough yet. The familiar cramping in your stomach made you want to cry.

Your monthly bleeding was always a bad omen in your eyes. You were thirsty, hungry, bleeding, terrified. And no one would be coming for you, now. You’d made sure of that yourself last night, and now a part of you regretted it. You tried to stay strong throughout the day, but minutes passed like hours as you paced the room and tried to distract yourself. All the shops were closing up, you realized— vendors taking whatever merchandise they couldn’t sell. In the distance you saw young men training with swords and you began to picture poor Charlie sent to war. The tension all around was palpable and almost made it hard to breathe. I have to get out of here.

“Excuse me! Please! Anybody!” You would shout and cry until someone heard you. A little boy, 6 or so, finally scuttled up nervously to you. “Do you know where Petyr Baelish is?” You were ashamed to ask a child to enter a brothel. He shook his head and you wanted to slam yours. “The master of coin?.. Hang on, please don’t go!” You dipped below in desperate search of your papers. You drew a quick sketch of him and dropped it out of the window, relieved to find the boy still there. He nodded, smiling with a sense of pride when he looked up at you again. “Please you have to find him and tell him that the girl with the dogs says yes. You have to get to him as fast as possible okay? If you do I’ll give you a sweetie, alright? I’ve got lots in here but the dogs want them.”

He snickered, sticking his tongue out a bit. “Run along then, okay. Tell him I said yes and I need him alright?” The boy nodded and ran away with the drawing in hand. You closed your eyes and prayed. Please let this be the right thing to do. Old Gods, New Gods, if any of you are listening, please don’t let me die here.

The sun went down along with your energy and you cozied up in your corner, trying to fall asleep to the pacing and howling all around you. You caught yourself wishing Charlie would come, or even Anna. Over time, you’d realized you had no right to be angry with her. She was only doing what was best in her mind— she saw violence and panicked, and somehow felt safer with the hound around. Before all this you would have felt the same, and though you couldn’t quite understand it now, you wouldn’t condemn her for it. As for Charlie, you only hoped he was alright and staying out of trouble. It would be selfish to see him again, and it would be best for everyone if he were to stay far away. You had plenty of time to think that night, as Petyr never came.

With your final piece of paper you began to draw faces from memory and for some reason, the person you started with was the hound. You and your paper man watched the sun come up and felt hopeless. “What are we going to do?” You asked the drawing. You could hardly remember what transpired the other night, what was said. But you remembered his eyes. Sad and desperate and beautiful. You stared into their likeness on the page and sighed. “Monsters don’t know sacrifice…” you recalled the first night you spent together.

Perhaps he continues to serve as a punishment to himself. He’s going to fight and die in this war, and these sad eyes are going to be my final memory of him. If you hated him the way you claimed you did, his tears, his death, would have been a blessing. But you didn’t, not truly.

Dahlia approached you on the floor and began sniffing at the blood surrounding you. You cringed and stood on shaky legs and the dog growled at your movements. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as the fear sent your heart off to the races again. Just then you heard the main gate open, conversation of two men in the distance. You rushed to the bars, Dahlia snapping at you but remaining behind to lap up the blood on the floor. You stuck your arms through and waved wildly. “Please, please!” You cried out over the aggressive barks. “I’ll do anything just let me out of here!”

Petyr Baelish stepped into view, signature smirk gracing his features. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The kennel master opened the gate at his command and Petyr dropped a sack of coins into his hand. The man glared at you but you ran past him and into Petyr’s arms. He gladly took you in and began guiding you out past the beasts going wild on all sides. “That’s half of what we agreed upon. You’ve damaged her pretty face.” He dropped casually, ignoring the arguing from the man behind him. “Let’s get you home, (Y/n) (L/n).”

In the most garish room you’d ever been in, you were scrubbed down, groomed, and fitted in a silk gown with an open back by two beautiful girls. As one of them was applying a cream to your eye, you dared to speak your first words since you’d left that cage.

“Thank you, my lady.”

The woman smirked and let out a throaty chuckle. “Don’t know if I’ve ever been much of a lady. A woman, surely, but a lady?” She scrunched up her nose and shook her head softly, closing the small case. “That should make the bruising go away quicker… Doesn’t make it hurt less though.”

She was about to stand up but you graced her forearm to stop her. “Wait, is it.. Is he.. Is it safe here?” The fear in your voice betrayed you as you stuttered in front of the girl.

She sighed, looking you over and brushing the hair behind one of your ears. “You're in good hands, love. We’ve been expecting you for some time… Petyr’s taken a liking to you so you don’t have to worry for now. He’ll want you to heal before you join the rest of us.”

“Indeed I will.” She stood finally and smiled at the man entering the room. You looked at him through the reflection of the mirror before you and your heart and stomach flipped when you saw that a tray of food was being brought in alongside him. You turned around in your chair but stopped yourself from approaching, instead reserving yourself to stand and bow your head. Petyr raised a hand, “Now now, there’s no need for any of that. Just a short time ago you threatened to rip out my tongue, and now you bow to me?”

Heat flooded your cheeks and your eyes sank a little in shame. Still he continued to approach, and the girls left the two of you alone.

“Never underestimate how quickly circumstances can change…” Finally he was close enough that you could smell the air of cloves that surrounded him, and he used a gentle hand to raise up your chin to meet his eye-line. “Know who your enemies are, (Y/n). Learn how to turn them in your favor, and learn when to dispose of them..”

You couldn’t understand why he was telling you this but you nodded agreeably. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” His voice was kind now, as kind as it could be any way. Your eyes narrowed in earnest and you nodded again into his hand. He smiled and released you, directing you to the food. Sliced meats, cheeses, vegetables, you shoveled it all greedily in your mouth as Peter poured a chalice of wine beside you. “Slow down, (Y/n). It will all come back up if you force it down, and you wouldn’t want to waste my food, now would you?”

You chewed and swallowed slowly, wiping your mouth and accepting the drink he offered. “Thank you, I— I’m sorry for what I said before.”

“Let’s not lie to each other.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “When I saw you in that cage finally, I must admit I had doubts about this arrangement. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a creature so pathetic… Yet here you are again. Clean and smooth and,” he offered his hand and you took it, and he paused to sniff your wrist, “fragrant as a rose.. Still, you’re bleeding and skinny and black and blue.. And I’m sure you’re obviously still reeling from the whole ordeal. You see, (Y/n), I am about to have a large influx of customers. War is all about sex and power, after all, and that’s what my establishment stands for. Tonight the King stands bravely among his soldiers, but I’ve witnessed first hand the brutality, the tenacity of the Baratheon bloodline and they may very well breach our wall. The night will be loud and horrid, and no matter what at the end of it the men will come. I am going to keep you from all of that. You needn’t fear their bloody hands on you tonight… but (Y/n), when I finally do ask you to touch and be touched,” he had sat you down in the middle of his speech and now his fingers slid delicately up the line of your spine, sending a chill that made your shoulders tremble. He smiled at your reaction, bringing his face closer and using the hand that never left you to move your hair and lock gently around the base of your neck. He spoke lowly, “you will obey. You belong to me now. Say it.” “I belong to you.” You looked him in the eyes for good measure.

“Good girl… Now please, eat, drink, sleep. I would stay in your room for the rest of the night if I were you. We will see each other in the morning…” He stood and walked to the door. “Dream of all the money you’re going to make, all the freedom you’re going to have.” He said before ironically locking the door behind him. You couldn’t care to think about anything beyond tonight, so his words did little to haunt you. You ate again, barely tasting the flavors before they were down your throat.

As Sandor watched the black water erupt in green fire like he’d never seen before, he felt small again. Terribly, helplessly small. Joffrey smiled out looking upon the men burning and drowning, thinking they’d already won. The hound knew, however, it couldn’t be that easy. He was supposed to die here tonight as a penance for all the evil he’d done. He watched a large ship grow nearer and grabbed a drink bag from a servant boy, chugging one final drink down before he descended to where the rest of the so called soldiers huddled and prayed. Perhaps if he defended (Y/n) one final time, died keeping out the people that meant to take this city, she could find the forgiveness in her heart. He heard the commotion of Stannis’ men arriving on the beach and growled, knowing if they found her, they’d kill her when they were done using her. As the door opened and they began their march to defend the city, to defend his princess, he threatened, “Any man dies with a clean sword, I’ll rape his fucking corpse!!”

He cut down many of Stannis’ men easily and was showered in the blood he missed so dearly. Killing was like a drug for him— one he was careful not to get addicted to. Watching someone come near who meant him harm and then cutting them to useless pieces made him feel all powerful, all knowing. It was a high like no other and he chased it, feeling he would die doing what he was born to… Then the fire came for him.

Men charged the beach with torches and his armor suddenly felt paper thin. His body fought back on autopilot, but his mind raced with flashbacks of his own burning flesh— Gregor’s toy burning beside him in the fire of their home because it had never been about the toy. His brother would seize any opportunity to hurt people. Sandor heaved big breaths as he looked around and saw the fighting again. No, not a battle anymore, another failure. Stannis’ men were more bloodthirsty than his own untrained citizens with swords they’d not broken in. He saw the way they hammered at the Mud gate and fled the beach. They’re going to break in, he thought. We’re losing.

He demanded wine from the servant, spitting out the water and looking out as the fire seemingly spread everywhere down below. They’re going to take her.

“Can I get you some iced milk? And a nice bowl of raspberries too?” Came out of the bastards freak uncle.

He drank again. “Eat shit, dwarf.”

“You’re on the wrong side of the wall.”

“I lost half my men!.. The black waters on fire..” he spoke the obvious, still entranced by the horrors he was considering.

Joffrey piped up from his cowardly position, voice shrill like an old woman’s. “Dog, I command you to go back out there and fight!” Sandor decided then and there that he was finished taking orders from a little boy, a little monster. Why couldn’t he have walked away before and save her all this pain. He drank again to numb the pain and shook his head in defiance as he swallowed it down.

“You’re Kingsguard, Clegane. You must beat them back or they’re going to take this city. Your King’s city.”

“Fuck the kings guard.” He spoke what he had held only his mind for so long. “Fuck the city.” The one that knew of the girl in the kennels and did nothing. “Fuck the King.” He stared the boy right in the eyes as he said it, almost daring him to respond. When he didn’t, he turned his back on the Lannisters and went off in search of his bride.

#sandor clegane #the hound x reader #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane smut #the hound smut #rory mccann #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones

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fangirlwriting-stories · 3 days ago

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Atychiphobia

Summary:

Atychiphobia is an intense fear of failure. Fear of failure is self-limiting and causes severe stress and anxiety. It can impair your present relationships, goals to succeed, and productivity.

Ford Pines gets paid a visit one night from a certain dream demon.

Author's Note: I’ll have you all know I started with the intent of like, a 6k one shot. It’s now eight chapters and 28,000 words with an inspiration playlist and it took me two months to finish. It is done already though, so I'm gonna post one chapter every Saturday morning until it's all out. I hope you enjoy it!

...

It’s during a dream that Ford first meets Bill.

It starts off as a really good dream, too. He and Stan have finished fixing the Stan-O-War and are casting off to the open sea. Ford can see scientific anomalies and monsters in the distance for him, and treasure and cute girls for Stan. Stan’s talking excitedly about all of the adventures they’re about to have, and Ford has mapped it out so they’ll still be home in time for dinner.

But just as they’re about to sail out of sight of Glass Shard Beach, Ford hears a cackle of laughter from beside him, and not like Stan’s normal-sounding laughter.

“Stanley?” Ford asks, turning in confusion.

Stan turns to face him too, but his smile is way too wide, and his eyes are yellow with slitted pupils.

Ford yelps and leaps backwards, only for definitely-not-Stanley to reach out and grab him by the shirt.

“Careful there, Sixer,” says a voice that also doesn’t belong to Stanley. “You might fall!”

Ford looks behind him and finds that the edge of the boat is a lot closer than he remembers it being.

Not-Stanley yanks him forward, and Ford yelps again, landing on his hands and knees on the deck. He looks up and sees Stan grinning unnaturally down at him.

“Stan?” he asks weakly. Not-Stan laughs.

“Nope!” he calls, and then from Stan’s eye emerges a top hat, and then a bright yellow shape, and then Stan vanishes completely. In his place is a floating yellow triangle with a top hat and bow tie.

“Wow, have I been waiting to meet you, Sixer!” the triangle says. Ford stands up. He wants to take a step back, even though that didn’t work out so well last time.

“Only Stanley gets to call me that,” Ford says.

The triangle laughs, like that’s funny.

“Who are you?” Ford demands, clenching his hands into fists and trying to be brave. “Give Stanley back!”

The triangle laughs again. “Wow, you’re the first Sixer I’ve met who’s ever said that,” he says.

“What?”

The triangle looks at him, and despite the fact that he doesn’t have a mouth, Ford gets the distinct impression that he’s smiling.

“Aww, you’re just a little shrimp, aren’t ya?” he says. “No wonder you want your other half around.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Ford says weakly.

“Oh, my bad,” the triangle says. He holds out a hand. “I’m Bill! I don’t think we’ve met in this dimension yet!”

“In this what?” Ford asks, ignoring the hand. He’s still trying to figure out how the triangle is talking without a mouth.

“This dimension, Sixer! This is a fun one! You’re a tad young, but no way that can stop you for long!”

“I— huh?”

“I’ve met you in too many dimensions, you never let anything stop you!” Bill continues, as if Ford’s confusion doesn’t exist. “You’re too smart for that!”

Ford blinks. “Thanks?”

“Don’t thank me, I’m just pointing out facts! You’ve got a lot of potential, kid! I’ll be keeping an eye on you! Wouldn’t want to let it go to waste!”

Ford doesn’t know what to say to that, but it doesn’t end up mattering, because that’s about the time he hears “Hey, Sixer,” and feels a poke on his cheek.

Ford groans and rolls over in bed, burying his head back in his pillow.

“Sixer,” says the much more familiar voice of his brother. “Wake up, Grauntie Mabel’s making pancakes, we’ve gotta get down there and stop her from adding glitter.”

And well, that is a real concern, so Ford manages to pull his head up with another groan and a grumble, and rubs at his eyes.

“I’ll hold her off as long as I can,” Stan says, from his spot right next to Ford’s bed. “Just get downstairs quick!”

He runs out before Ford can say anything else.

Ford yawns, stretches, and forces himself into a sitting position.

“What a weird dream,” he mumbles to himself as he slips his feet out of bed.

…

He doesn’t put together that the triangle demon Fiddleford and Stan say they saw talking to Bud Gleeful is Bill until they’re inside Grauntie Mabel’s head. But strangely enough, Bill doesn’t act like he knows him at all, and things are a little too urgent at the time for him to think much about it.

And after they’re done stopping Bill, well, things hardly get less urgent. Ford doesn’t have any time to think about the fact that he had a weird dream about Bill being nice to him until after they’ve stopped Bud and have headed back home to the craft store to relax. Grauntie Mabel promises to make a breakfast for dinner of pancakes with edible glitter, which Ford and Stan consent to as a fair compromise, and they all end up in the kitchen, laughing and reminiscing on all the crazy things that have happened the past couple of days.

But it’s only after Grauntie Mabel has gone to feed Waddles dinner that Stan says, “Man, I should have known the evil demon trying to take over Grauntie Mabel’s head was a distraction. Classic bait-and-switch.”

And Ford’s eyes widen as he realizes he’d completely forgotten about Bill in the events of the last couple days.

“Uh, hey,” he says, turning to face Stanley. “Stan—”

“Alright, share those, I’m not making any more tonight,” comes Grauntie Mabel’s voice, and she yanks away the last two pancakes that Stan had been about to reach for. “You each get one, and head up to bed, it’s way too late as it is.”

“But Grauntie Mabel,” Stan whines. “We defeated an evil fake psychic today! Can’t we stay up a little later as a reward?”

“You can stay up later at the karaoke party we’re having on Saturday to celebrate,” Grauntie Mabel says, waving her hand towards the steps. “Come on, we’ve all had a very long couple days. I’m an old lady, I need my beauty rest. And so does Waddles.” She reaches down and rubs the pig on the head, who gives a satisfied oink as if to confirm.

“Does it have to be a karaoke party?” Stan mutters, but he shovels another couple bites of pancake in his mouth and then pushes his chair back.

“Goodnight Grauntie Mabel,” Ford calls quickly, pushing his chair back to follow Stan. “Uh, hey,” he calls to Stan as they start up the steps. “Can I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” Stan asks, glancing over at him.

“Had you ever, like, seen Bill before? Like, before you and Fiddleford found him talking to Bud?”

“No, why?” Stan asks. “You see him in the journal or somethin’?”

Well, that too. And the author’s paranoid scribblings about never trusting or summoning Bill at any costs just made Ford more confused about the dream he’d had before. But if Stan doesn’t know anything about him, then he must not have gotten a similar dream. Which is weird. Bill mentioned Stan in the dream, so he clearly knows about him. Why would he only talk to Ford? Did it have something to do with Bill calling him smart and talking about his potential? Did he not view Stan the same way? But then, the Bill from his dream had acted very different from the Bill who invaded Grauntie Mabel’s head. Then again, if he’d been working for Bud, maybe he was just doing what Bud told him to? Stan said they’d made a deal of some kind. But if the author clearly thinks he’s not trustworthy, that’s probably not something Ford should just write off.

“Ford?”

Ford blinks, and Stan’s staring curiously at him.

“You good?” he asks. “You just kinda… stopped talking, there.”

“I’m good,” Ford says, mostly on instinct. “Just… thinking.”

“‘Bout what?”

Ford bites his lip. “Nothing,” he decides on. He doesn’t know what he thinks about anything yet, and Grauntie Mabel’s right, it’s been a long couple days. He doesn’t want to bother Stan with questions about Bill right at the tail end of their victory. “I’ll tell you in the morning, okay?”

Stan looks at him for another moment, and then shrugs. “Okay,” he says, and then starts back up the stairs again towards the attic. Ford follows him, trying to put Bill out of his mind for the night. Besides, they’ll have plenty of time to figure things out now that Grauntie Mabel’s not sending them home.

Ford’s planning on heading straight to bed as soon as they get there, but as they walk into the attic, Stan says, “Hey,” and when Ford turns around he sees him holding up a hand.

“You were awesome today, Sixer,” Stan says with a bright smile. “I’m never gonna forget the look on Bud’s stupid face. High six?”

Ford grins at him, and slaps Stan’s hand with his own. “High six,” he says.

Stan grins wider as he starts back over to his bed, and as he climbs under his covers, adds, “See? You don’t need the journal to be awesome. You can do amazing things all on your own.”

Ford looks away as he climbs into bed to hide his smile at that one. “You were pretty awesome too, you know,” he says after a second, turning to face Stan again. “With that grappling hook.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stan says, in a falsely cocky voice, putting his hands on his hips. But the smile on his face as they start over to their beds shows that he appreciates it.

Ford laughs a little. “Goodnight, knucklehead,” he says, laying down and pulling the covers up to his chin.

“Night, dumb-dumb!” Stan calls back cheerfully.

Both of them fall asleep smiling.

…

Ford’s not sure how much time has passed when he opens his eyes again, but it’s still dark in the attic. Ford glances up towards the window for any sign of a coming morning, but oddly enough, he can’t even see the stars that are usually visible through the window.

Ford pushes the covers back and sits up, turning to face the window. Is this more Gravity Falls weirdness?

He walks quietly over to the window and peeks out, but nothing’s outside of it, just a long black expanse.

“Um,” he says, starting to get a little nervous. He turns to the bed on the other side of the room and whispers, “Stanley.”

A grumble comes from the bed. Ford walks over and pokes Stan in the shoulder. “Stanley, wake up—”

Stan spins over in bed, sudden and visceral, his bones cracking audibly. Ford screams and leaps back a step, before Stan’s eyes snap open to reveal bright yellow irises.

“Heya again, Sixer!” yells a now-familiar voice. Stanley’s body peels back in a way that’s not much better than the bones cracking, and Ford looks away, feeling nauseous. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Bill float up from what was Stanley a second ago.

Bill turns around and laughs, poking the mush left on the bed. “Man, he’d look good as a corpse!”

“Stop it!” Ford screams, turning around completely and shoving his hands over his ears.

“Aw, come on, Sixer, I’m just having a little fun! Tons of other versions of you thought that was funny!”

Ford just shoves his hands over his ears tighter, though it doesn’t seem to do anything to block Bill’s voice.

“Not your style yet, huh Sixer?”

“Stop calling me that!” Ford says, turning around and keeping his gaze firmly away from the other bed. “Only Stanley gets to call me that!”

Bill laughs again. “Man, I always forget how tight you two are at first. Just weird to see, lemme tell ya.”

“What are you talking about?” Ford asks, clenching his hands into fists. “And why did you invade Grauntie Mabel’s head? And why did you act like we’d never talked before when we found you?”

“Woah, slow down, Sixer, one question at a time,” Bill says, amusement bleeding into his eye. “Look, Shooting Star was nothing personal. Just the terms of the deal, you know? Besides, you and your useless brother beat me in the end. No harm no foul.”

Ford grits his teeth. “Okay, I’ve decided, I don’t like you,” he says. “Leave me alone.”

“Oh, calm down, Sixer,” Bill says. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t like your version of help,” Ford says coolly. “You almost hurt my Grauntie, and you’re mean to my brother.”

“Hey, sorry bud,” Bill says, holding up his hands. “Old habits die hard. I learned it from you, you know.”

“Why do you keep saying stuff like that? Stanley’s not useless, you’re just being mean!”

Bill laughs again, sounding harsher and meaner than before. “I always forget how little you humans know about the multiverse. Come here, I’ll show you!”

“What do you—” Ford starts. But before he can finish, Bill grabs him by the arm and yanks him upwards, through the air and towards the attic window.

Ford yelps and tries to shield his face from the glass, but they pass right through, and when he opens his eyes he sees a car driving away from their house. He doesn’t recognize the car, but Bill points at it like it means something.

“I’d imagine you’ve got about six years left before that brother of yours realizes what you really are and kicks you to the curb,” Bill says. “That’s him in the car, getting far away from you. Can’t blame him, really.”

Ford scowls and yanks his arm away. “You’re a liar,” he says. “Stanley wouldn’t do that.”

“I’ve got a couple dozen dimensions that prove you wrong, Sixer,” Bill says, grabbing his arm again. “You want to take a tour?”

Ford tries to yank his arm away, but Bill just tightens his grip, and the world around them shifts again. The type of car changes, but it’s still driving away from their house, and when Bill yanks them down next to the car, the person inside really does look a lot like an older version of Stan. He looks angry, and he’s glaring out the window ahead of him, not seeming too interested in what’s back at the house.

“That doesn’t mean he’s leaving,” Ford snaps, glaring at Bill, since he can’t seem to pull his arm out of his grasp. “That’s what Stan does when he’s upset, he needs space.”

Bill laughs again. “Sure seems like a lot of space, then,” he says. He snaps his fingers, and time seems to rewind around them, until the car stops with the older-looking-Stan outside of it. Ford watches as he shouts up at the house: “I can make it on my own! I don’t need you! I don’t need anyone!”

Then, without another word, he climbs in the car and drives away.

“Stop it!” Ford snaps at Bill, trying to ignore the squirming nervous feeling that’s taken root in his stomach. “You’re a liar, Stanley wouldn’t just leave me!”

“Oh, he wouldn’t now?” Bill asks, and he pulls them both away from the scene again, quickly through a bunch of other ones— other dimensions, Ford supposes? They’re moving too quickly for Ford to really look at what’s happening, but he gets a couple of clear images— Stanley punching him in the face, shoving him away from him, shoving him towards some kind of futuristic looking glowing triangle, yelling something in his face and then storming off and not coming back, and not coming back, and not coming back, and—

“Stop it!” Ford screams, squeezing his eyes shut. “Stop it, stop it, I don’t wanna see!”

“Well, that’s not a good attitude to have, kid!” Bill says, still sounding incredibly amused by everything. “I’m just trying to prepare you! It’s gonna happen eventually, you should be ready for it!”

“It’s not, it’s not!” Ford protests, trying to pull his arm away from Bill’s again. “Stanley’s not going to leave me, you’re a liar!”

Bill laughs again, but there’s something darker about it, and that something almost forces Ford to open his eyes. Bill’s eye is glowing bright red now, and Ford doesn’t like the manic energy in it. He tries harder to pull his arm away, but his wrist starts to strain in a way he doesn’t like.

“‘Course he is, Sixer!” Bill calls brightly. “And you know why?”

He lets go of Ford’s hand, and Ford screams as he starts to fall into the air, but before he can get very far, Bill grows ten times larger and catches Ford in his left hand. Ford tries to run and leap off the edge of the hand, but Bill just casually dumps him into his other one, and then back into his first, until Ford lands in his right hand dizzy and stumbling. Bill shifts his grip until he’s grasping Ford tightly, and then brings him right up to his bright red eye.

“It’s because your brother realizes what you really are,” Bill says, his voice suddenly deeper and angrier. “A washed up miserable failure who squanders all your potential. A lonely freak whose most unique trait is something he didn’t even earn.” Bill shifts his grip and pushes Ford’s arm up into the air, presenting his six fingers on full display. It’s probably Ford’s imagination, but he can swear for a second he hears Stanley’s laughter.

“You’re nothing special, kid,” Bill says, leaning his enormous eye right into Ford’s face. “And sooner or later, your brother’s going to realize it too. I’m just making sure you’re ready for when everyone finally knows what a failure you are.”

“I—” Ford manages, trying to lean away. “I’m not! You’re wrong!”

Bill cackles. “I got a couple dozen dimensions that prove me right, Sixer,” he says. “But don’t worry, we can continue our tour another time. Besides, you’ve got stuff to do.”

And with that, he tilts his head back, turns his one eye into a large, gaping mouth, and then tosses Ford up towards it. The mouth snaps shut around him, and Ford screams.

…

He wakes up gasping and panicking, grasping for anything around him, some kind of way to pry Bill’s mouth open. But his hands only meet empty air. It takes him a second to realize he’s not being eaten by a dream demon, and is instead back in the attic.

He leans forward and drops his head into his knees, his breathing still way too short and shallow and panicked.

“St-Stanley?” he calls, trying to make it loud enough to get his brother’s attention. There isn’t any response, and that increases Ford’s panic enough that he yanks his head up.

The sun is shining in through the window, and the attic is empty.

Ford scrambles from the bed and towards the steps, making his way down them as quickly as he can with how badly his legs are shaking.

He hears Stanley’s voice as he reaches the bottom of the steps, sounding like it’s coming from the kitchen.

“I’m just saying, reheated they’re never as good,” he says. “Just how it is.”

“Oh, I see,” comes Grauntie Mabel’s rather amused voice. “Well, if you want to make fresh pancakes every time you want to eat them, you go for it, but in the meantime, you’re asking an awful lot of me, buddy.”

“Excuse me, I’m the child? That’s my job.”

Grauntie Mabel snorts with laughter. Ford doesn’t want to interrupt them, and instead he leans back against the wall at the bottom step, trying to take a deep breath in.

“Just a nightmare,” he whispers to himself. “Calm down, it’s just Bill trying to mess with you. You’re okay.”

He stays there for a little longer, until his legs stop feeling quite so shaky, and then he pushes himself up. He takes one more deep breath, and starts slowly towards the kitchen.

Stan is sitting with his back to him when he walks into the entryway, but Grauntie Mabel smiles at him from the place across from the door.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” she calls. “You’re up later than usual. Want some pancakes?”

“Don’t bother, they’re reheated,” Stan calls, while shoveling another bite in his mouth, which makes for a bit of a confusing message.

Ford just nods in response to Grauntie Mabel, and when she climbs up to get a new plate and get the pancakes from the fridge, he walks forward and sits down in the open chair next to Stan.

“Hey, Sixer, great news!” Stan calls, grinning up at him. “Now that we have an actual house back, Fiddleford’s dad is letting him come over and play again! He called a little bit ago, he says he’ll be here after lunch!”

Ford gives the best smile he can manage. “That’s awesome,” he says, hoping Stan can’t see right through him.

Stan has always been able to see right through him.

His smile dips into a concerned frown. “Hey, you good?”

“Just a bad dream,” Ford admits. “I… can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Stan says, turning to face him a little more directly as he gives him his attention.

“Would you… I mean, if I…” he trails off, the same desperate panic from his nightmare starting to crawl its way up his throat again.

“Would I, if you…” Stan prompts.

Ford looks up at him, takes in Stan’s earnest concerned face, and realizes he can’t get the words out.

“Would you mind if we skip the monster hunting today?” he asks. “I think I’m a little beat after all the stuff with Bud.”

Stan looks at him a moment longer. “Sure, no problem,” he says after a second. “But are you sure that’s what you wanted to ask?”

Ford clenches his hands into fists under the table. “I’m sure.”

“Fresh reheated pancakes, at your service,” comes Grauntie Mabel’s voice, and Ford takes the distraction, turning with a smile and taking the plate from her.

“Thanks, Grauntie Mabel,” he says, and cuts up and shovels a bite in his mouth as quickly as he can.

Stan doesn’t say anything else, which is fine, because he doesn’t need to. Ford can manage this all by himself, because Bill’s wrong. He’s not a failure.

He’s gonna prove it, too.

#gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #fiddleford mcgucket #mabel pines #dipper pines #relativity falls au #my fic

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soulsty · 6 months ago

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I am slowly losing my grasp on reality

#houseki no kuni #houseki no shitpost #hnk #land of the lustrous #lotl phos #phosphophyllite #the world as I know it is shifting before my very eyes #love hate and sorrow all mix together in my mind #forming something indistinguishable from human emotions #as I look upon my backyard the intense pounding that constantly lies in the back of my head subtle enough to ignore #becomes more and more intense #i fall to my knees and clench my head in my hands #suddenly a voice speaks behind me and it says to me #“if y e s spells yes #what does e y e s spell?”#I fall into a crumple on the ground and begin to shake #I weakly look behind me to see who that was and-#no one #only leaves and the grass billowing in the wind #the pounding increases again and I return to a shaking mess lying on the floor #love #hate #sorrow #the words repeat in my mind as hours pass #I fall asleep #and when I awaken #e y e s... spells eyes

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darkbluekies · 3 months ago

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In the dungeon

yandere!king oc x fem!reader

Summary: after disrespecting him, you've found yourself in his dungeon. Edmund comes to visit you because he has heard that you haven't eaten in three days

Warnings: self starvation, punishment, toxic relationship,

Word count: 1.1k

He doesn't like it, but what choice does he have? If people found out that he doesn't punish his own wife, what would they think of him? That he's not a well respected leader because he can't even punish his own wife? No, he can't have that. He has to do it. But by doing it, he also feels pain, so it's a punishment for both of you. That's how he explained it.

You had disrespected him, belittled him and his masculinity. And now you're here. Easier said than done. Saying the words to him was easier than doing the time for them.

Your head hangs low as footsteps echo down the spiral stone stairs. You don't look up to see who it is, don't care who it is. Another guard to switch swift.

“Oh, my love …”

You look up. Edmund is standing on the other side of the metallic bars, wearing his clean, colorful clothes made out of the finest satin. He places a plate with a silver cloche on the bench beside him. You pull yourself up from the floor slowly, back sore from resting against the stone wall for eternity and stomach empty. Edmund's ice blue eyes follow your every step. It's not often that they contain any type of emotion, but seeing you like this brings out a deep worry that seems to make his eyes glow.

You drag yourself over to the door, which is nothing more than metallic bars. You hold onto one of the cold metal rods. Edmund places his hand over yours.

“The guards have told me that you haven't eaten in three days”, he says softly, as if you could break if he raised his voice even a decibel louder. “You can't do that, Y/N. You can't worry me like this.”

As if he would have eaten that stale bread and drink that moldy water, you think.

“Can I come up now?” you whisper. “I want to get out of here”, you cry weakly. “Edmund, please …”

Edmund shakes his head carefully.

“No, not yet”, he answers with a heavy sigh. “It's going to be okay, darling”, he reassures you softly, kissing the hand he's holding. “Soon, you'll be back with me, okay? Believe me, I want nothing more than to let you back upstairs and have you in my arms, but they would think I was incompetent in my role.”

He wipes one of your tears apologetically.

“Do you care more about your power than you do me?” you whisper.

He looks taken aback, unable to know what to answer.

“Don't be like that”, he says. “You know I love you more than anything else.”

But not enough, apparently, you think and sniffle.

He looks behind you, around the cell.

“I brought some food from the kitchen”, he says. “I want to see you eat it before I leave.”

He gestures for the guard to unlock the door as he bends down to pick up the plate. You back away from the door, finding your safe spot on the floor by the opposite wall. Edmund walks over, checking the floor before hesitantly sitting down.

“Do you have to sit on the dirty floor?” he mumbles dislikingly.

“I like it”, you reply.

“Alright, alright.”

Despite grimacing and dusting of his satin clothes, he makes himself comfortable on the hard, dirty floor and opens the cloche. The smell of boiled potatoes and marinated meat meets your nose, and the sight is even more exquisite. He takes out a silver fork from his pocket, stabs one of the potatoes and holds it to your lips. You open your mouth, letting him feed you. It tastes better than you remember it to. It has only been a week since you got locked down in the dungeon, but without anything to do, without necessities and comfort, the hours creep by. For all you could care, a month could have gone by. The only form of company you've had have been the rats crawling around on the floor, just big enough to squeeze through the metal bars. They bite.

“Tasty?” Edmund asks.

You nod. Anything that the kitchen prepares is delicious — or at least a thousand times better than the rock hard bread and dusty water.

“Good”, the young king says, pleased, feeding you another fork full of meat. “It makes me feel better to see you eat.”

Eating the food he has brought for you reminds you of how badly you want to vet out of here … and how much your comfort relies on Edmund.

Edmund wipes away a sauce smudge on the corner of your lips and sticks it between his lips to lick it off. You doubt he would do that to anyone else. Ever. He has certain liberties with you which he has with no one else. He can hug you, touch you, smile at you, joke with you. You give him life in a way no one can.

“You should see how restless my hours without you are”, he sighs and rolls his eyes. “I'm a walking bomb without you. I almost feel bad for my secretary.”

“Then let me back up …”, you whisper, a last attempt to try to plead with him. “Please.”

“I can't. Not yet. I've already given you special treatment and advantages no one else has gotten. If I let you back upstairs before an appropriate time my authority will be questioned.”

“I'm sorry, Edmund.”

Your voice is barely audible. His hand stops dead in its track on its way to your mouth. A drop of sauce falls down on the floor. You can see that it hit him right in his heart, shattering it.

“Oh, I know”, he reassures you and feeds you the piece of meat. “I know, darling. I believe you.”

You chew slowly, swallow slowly. The food seems to get stuck in your throat.

“Good girl”, Edmund praises. “You can hold out a little while longer, can't you? Just a few more days?”

You nod in defeat. What other choice do you have now that your pleading didn't work?

Edmund stands up. You follow him panicked, quickly reaching out and grabbing his hand.

“No!” you shriek. “Dont leave me. I don't want to be alone!”

“It's getting late”, Edmund answers. “I thought that I would let you get some rest.”

“No … not alone … please. Please stay. Just a little while longer.”

He thinks for a second. “Okay.”

You breathe out in relief. He sits down with his back against the wall, letting you fall asleep against him, wrapped in his warm, strong arms. Leaving him alone with his thoughts — his conflicting, torturing thoughts.

When you wake up the following morning by the sun shining through the little window pane you're alone, lying on the floor, covered by a colorful cape made out of the finest satin.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere king #yandere x female reader #female reader #yandere oneshot #yandere royal

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kuroosamuu · 15 days ago

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megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #megumi imagine #jjk imagines

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morose-melodies · 3 months ago

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a story to tell | yandere capitano x reader

summary: the captain appeared at the front of your house, bloodied and offering you a flower.

content warning: size different, mentions of a carcass and mentions of killing.

capitano stood at your front door with a flower in hand.

blood dripping from his mask and onto the snow underneath him.

the majority of his clothes were tainted red, the glove on his right hand slightly torn; you stood behind the door frame, your eyes wide with fear.

"don't look at me with such a fearful expression... am I scaring you?" capitano questioned, and you nodded, "are you hurt?"

"no," he then extended his hand towards you, holding the flower out for you to take.

the flower in his hand was red; perhaps it was his blood, or it was naturally like that. it was a kind gesture, you just couldn't look past all of the blood.

capitano lowered him onto one knee.

his head low as he waited for you to say something, but all you could do was stare, confused as to why a great fatui harbinger was bowing to you.

you hesitantly reached out and took the flower from him, an unsure smile on your face.

you examined the flower in hand, running a finger across the very red petals. you looked back down at capitano who was still kneeling before you and letting curiosity get the best of you, you slowly lowered yourself onto the ground, beside capitano.

"excuse me? what are you doing?" you took a cautious look around, noticing the eyes that watched shamelessly.

this was only your second time meeting the great harbinger. you couldn't understand why he was kneeling to you, or why he was covered in blood or why he had brought you a flower.

you watched him with curious eyes, watching how he breathed slowly, how his eyes never left your own -- you watched him as he watched you.

you reached forward, your hand running across that blood-stained armor of his, lower and lower, until your finger grazed one of his own. you took his hand into yours and stood.

tugging weakly, you urged him to stand with you and that he did.

"... thank you for the flower. do you want to come in?"

"that would be nice," capitano replied, before walking through the front door, he walked down the hallway, leaving a trail of mud behind him.

though you were once holding his hand, it seemed he was holding yours now.

"are you sure you're not hurt? i-i can clean your wounds," you offered, still following behind him as he welcomed himself into your living room and seated himself on your couch.

"I am not hurt. I've come to see you," the captain explained to you, looking at you from his mask, "does that displease you?"

"uhm..." you weren't sure. this was a very odd situation, and he was getting blood on your couch, but this was the harbinger same that took time out of his day to save you from a group of treasure hoarders, "no, it doesn't. I'm just curious..."

"ask me anything, I will answer truthfully," he offered to you, tugging at your hand as if urging you to sit beside him, to be near him.

so, you seated yourself on the couch beside him.

"what happe-"

"I remember the trail to your house so well," he cut you off, answering the question he knew you had for him, "i recall bringing you back after meeting you for the first time. what a lovely home you have," he commented, looking at you.

"you never left my mind, I must confess," it sounded as if he spoke with a small smile, "when passing the very trail to your house, there was danger near. I couldn't allow you to fend for yourself, not when you're such a kind soul."

and so, he explained to you that were was a group of monsters near your home feeding on the carcass of a dead creature. he had killed them to stop them from venturing anywhere further to you.

"and after all, I found that flower and thought of you," his grip on your hand loosened because he knew you were no longer afraid and didn't fear you running off.

though... capitano had told one little lie. it was nothing serious, but he failed to mention that he practically guarded you day in and day out, passing by the trail to your house every house to assure himself of your safety.

why he did this? he wasn't exactly sure himself but he was grateful that he did. who knew what would have happened if he hadn't come to save you.

"well, thank you. thank you so much," you stood from the couch, smiling at him but that smile dimmed a bit when you noticed he was still holding your hand, "uhm, since you're here... would you like some tea? I can make some, you could also clean yourself before you leave..."

the captain smiled to himself, and nodded his head, "that would be nice."

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere scenarios #capitano x reader #yandere capitain #yandere capitano x reader #the captain #capitano

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luveline · 1 year ago

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I would love to see more of badass reader x Spencer, but maybe reader gets hurt on a case (like a concussion or something) and only wants Spencer and we get to see more of reader’s soft spot for Spencer. Idk if that made sense or if that’s anything you’d be interested in writing. Love reading whatever you write!💕

thank you for your request and for reading babe!! —your singular soft spot for spencer rises to the surface when you get hurt in the field. fem!reader, 1.1k

Emily's foot tap tap taps hospital linoleum. The nurses are getting worried about you —your CAT scans are fine, but you're lethargic. Mildly concussed with moderate symptoms, you winced at the lights, told Emily to turn them off, and haven't said much since.

She frowns. It's not nice to see someone who's usually so closed-off openly pained. "You okay?" she asks.

"I wanna see Spence," you murmur.

Emily nods slowly. She's had this conversation with you already. You have a spot of amnesia, nothing to worry about, decidedly temporary.

"Why hasn't he come to see me?" you ask. Your voice trips and tumbles, your eyes glowing with a glassy sheen. "I thought he'd come to… make sure I was okay. But he doesn't want to see me."

"Spencer's on the way here. He was an hour away with Hotch, remember? They're on their way."

You twitch like a displeased cat under your sheets and turn away from her, sniffling weakly. Your shoulders heave with slow tears. Emily gets up to rub your back but thinks better of it when you stiffen. She doesn't understand how you function, doesn't know what it is about Spencer alone that you can be vulnerable with him and not the others, but she won't judge you for it. She just wishes there was more she could do.

It's an untold amount of time between your tears and Spencer's awaited arrival. You're worse than lethargic, depressed, hand lax behind your back and unresponsive to the sound of the door.

"She's asleep?" he mouths. His hair is limp either side of his face, flattened by anxious hands.

"Upset," she mouths back through a frown, drawing a tear down her cheek with her pinky finger.

He doesn't give Emily a second glance after that.

"Hey," he says softly, rounding your hospital bed, touching the tips of his fingers to your hip and drawing a gentle line up your side. His head dips down, bending at the waist to see you better in the dim lighting. "Hey, what's wrong?"

You make a small keening sound from the back of your throat. It's so cleaving that Emily wants to leave, so painful that she wants to stay. You're her friend too. Emily cares about you, even when it hurts to do so.

"I don't feel like me," you say.

Spencer doesn't shy away either. His expression is open, reassuring as he pops into a semi squat that can't be comfortable. His hand closes around your arm, thumb feeling the naked skin there sweetly. "It's normal to feel confused after a head injury. I promise it won't last."

"I don't feel well," you say, small, like a scared kid.

"I know."

You reach for him. Emily knows Derek would never believe it, your hands stretched out almost desperately, the pleading noise yanked from between teeth normally gritted. Spencer wraps long arms around you with the ease of someone who's done it before, maybe exactly like this.

"It's okay," he says. He's speaking with pep he doesn't feel. Emily can see he's stressed in the high pinch of his shoulders, but he's putting on a show for you. "You don't have to be scared. It's okay."

The perpetual line carved between Hotch's brows seems deeper as he enters the room. Neither of you look up, your back loosening under the lazy back and forth of Spencer's hand.

"Concerning, right?" Emily asks.

Hotch ignores her, but not for lack of agreement. "What do her observations say?"

"Mild to moderate head injury, post-concussion amnesia, fractured index and middle finger on her left hand."

"Where are her clothes?" he asks.

"They can't check her out until she gets her fingers cast and all she brought in her go bag was slacks."

"I'll get her some pyjamas," Hotch says.

Emily's not sure what's funnier, the idea of you in pyjamas, the image of Hotch choosing a pair, or the word pyjamas in his stoic murmur. He lingers to make sure you're okay, his eyes tracking the tremble of your arms as Spencer talks too low to hear in your ear, having sat down on the bed and curled himself around you protectively.

You moan something sad and Spencer laughs, your hospital gown crinkling as he massages the top of your shoulder. "Why would you say that?" he asks lightly. "You think you know better than me? Really?"

"Of course not," you say. If it were anyone else, you'd have knocked them off the bed already.

"I don't remember you having an eidetic memory," he furthers.

You actually manage to laugh for the first time since your initial injury. "I don't remember anything right now," you say.

Emily leans over to Hotch. "You know, when we first came in, I suggested to the nurse that she might have amnesia because she kept asking me where she was, and she looked me dead in the eye and said, well, good thing you're not a nurse."

Hotch scoffs a laugh. "It's a little surprising even now. Seeing them together, you'd never think it."

"Think what?" Emily asks, fond rather than judgemental. "That she's as emotional as a China teacup?"

"I'll remember for both of us," Spencer murmurs, stroking your face. "Okay? So calm down."

Derek once told you to calm down and felt the cold of your icy attitude for a ragged week. Spencer says it and you take a visible deep breath, your head laying back in your pillows, his hand quick to cup the side of your neck. "Okay," you say quietly.

"It's not just that," Hotch says, failing to explain further.

He doesn't have to. Emily knows what he means. You can be snippy, aloof, unfriendly. But it's not just your softening that's surprising, it's Spencer's growing confidence. The ease with which he handles you, hands unabashed in their comforting.

"Want me to find you something to wear?" Spencer asks.

"We got it," Hotch interrupts. "Take it easy, Y/N. Rest."

You nod obediently. He and Emily leave, hearing a last snippet of conversation as the heavy door closes behind them.

"You wanna sign my cast, when they do it?" you ask hopefully.

"Are you kidding? I'd love to. I've always wanted to sign someone's cast, and it's good for your morale."

"Will they be in a cast long, do you think?"

"They should be healed in about six to eight weeks, but you may not regain full strength for another two months afterward. There have actually been studies…"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it

Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words

Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath.

“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes.

In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job.

“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him.

You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?”

Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly.

“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?”

“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”

But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead.

“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before.

James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?”

“Everywhere.”

“By your eyes?”

“No.”

He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?”

“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.”

“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels.

James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.

“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus.

“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.”

“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up.

You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained.

You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.”

Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now.

“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?”

“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now.

“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.”

“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.”

You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.”

James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.

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hoshifighting · 2 months ago

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can't stop thinking about dumbification w wonwoo....he's one cocky mf and I just KNOW he'd be so filthy😩😩

what are your thoughts??

dumbification with wonwoo WARNINGS: smut, dumbification, fingering, squirting, dirty talk.

tbh you never expected this kind of shit to happen with him, least of all. wonwoo—who barely blinks when u flirt or tease, as if he's above it all. but now, fuck, he's got you on your back, legs spread wide and trembling, fingers pressing so deep inside you that your mind is starting to blank out, and all you can think about is how good it feels. you’re already a mess, whining and squirming, trying to catch your breath while he's got that stupid smirk playing on his lips like he’s enjoying every second of watching you fall apart.

“shit, look at the mess youre making of yourself baby girl, so fucking wet f'me” he mutters, voice raspy, fingers pushing in and out of you at a slow, agonizing pace. “can’t even think straight, hm?” you try to form a response, something snarky or witty, but all that comes out is a whimper, hips lifting to meet his touch, desperate for more. he’s dragging this out on purpose, you know it. trying to push you past the point where you can keep that sharp tongue of yours and turn you into nothing but a mess beneath him.

“wonwoo,” you manage to gasp, voice catching as he curls his fingers inside you just right, brushing against that spot that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. “please—" he chuckles, deep and dark, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your neck as he leans in closer. “please, what?” he taunts, fingers slowing down to a maddening pace, just enough to keep you on the edge but not enough to push you over. “you want more? or are you already too fucked out to handle it?” you shake your head, trying to clear the haze, but it’s impossible. the heat pooling in your belly is making you splash, fever spreading through your limbs and making your mind go blank “answer me,” he commands, his free hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. “use your words, baby. or is that too hard for you now?”

your brain is a foggy mess, but you try to focus, try to form some semblance of thought. “fuck—more, please, i—” your voice cracks, the words barely coherent, but it’s enough for him.

“good girl,” he purrs, and his fingers speed up, pumping into you harder and faster, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the air. “see? you can be good when you try.” it’s embarrassing how fast you lose yourself after that. the pleasure is too much, too intense, and all you can do is lay there, legs twitching, hips bucking, completely at his mercy. you’re babbling now, words that barely make sense falling from your lips as you beg for more, beg for him to let you come, to end this delicious torture. “you like it when i make you stupid, huh?”

you can’t respond. not in any way that matters. the only thing you manage is a broken moan, hands clutching at the sheets like a lifeline as the heat builds inside you, threatening to consume you whole. you’re so close, teetering on the edge, and he knows it. “go on,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear. “show me how dumb i can make you. show me how fucking good i can make you feel.”

t hits you all at once. your vision goes white, body convulsing as the orgasm tears through you, so intense you barely register the flood of wetness soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. you’re shaking, gasping, unable to form a single coherent thought as the pleasure washes over you. wonwoo watches you fall apart, “fuck, that’s it,” he murmurs. “look at you. didn’t think i’d get you this messy.” u’re still trembling, still trying to catch your breath, and all you can do is nod weakly.

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markiecake · 6 months ago

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📹

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

tags/ warnings: smut (minors dni !!!), mirror sex, markie films while he fucks you, calls you his camgirl at one point :3, spanking (like once), pet namessss (good girl, baby, angel, etc u know the drill), praising !!!!, creampie

you couldn't help but feel just a lil bit embarrassed :(

you were looking back at yourself in the full body mirror in front of you, and you looked pathetic to say the least.

mascara streaming down your cheeks, hair stuck to your face, drool down your chin.. you were a mess 😵‍💫

a spank to ur ass snapped you out of your trance, and your eyes were redirected to mark, who was behind you.

"there she is," he laughed from behind you as he held his phone in his shaky hands.

he always talked about filming the two of you, because he's away all the time !! of course he needs something to get off to while he's gone !

the flash from his camera was making you squint as you continued to look in the mirror.

"i told you i'd stop if you- fuck- didn't look in the mirror, didn't i?" he spoke through grunts, "so watch, baby."

and at this point you were so close, the want for pleasure took over your pride. your head was spinning as you watched yourself get closer and closer to cumming.

although he had to keep it somewhat together for the sake of filming, mark was just as much of a mess as well. his hair was sticking to his forehead, one hand focusing on his phone and the other on your waist. he prayed that his phone would pick up your sounds as well.

"taking it so well, baby. my sweet girl, my best girl." he began to rant under his breath. you were reduced to whimpers as his thrusts became sloppier overtime.

"m- markie," you whine, "soso close, please-"

"yeah? you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he asked, to which you weakly nodded, "go ahead, angel. show me how much of a pretty camgirl you are."

you thought your brain was going to melt as he somehow sped up, making you see start. you reach back to grip at his arm as you watch yourself lose control.

you just about scream as you cum around his cock, your nails digging into his arm. you let out loud moans, as well as small whimpers of mark's name, repeated like a mantra.

your body shook, while mark was showing absolutely no signs of stopping yet.

"you gonna let me cum in you, love?" he asked, "let me make a mess of you? yeah?"

you nodded quickly, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. you could barely put two words together at this point, being so lost in the feeling D:

one final thrust made his hips still, holding your waist with an iron grip as he still somehow managed to capture every single moment.

we all know mark has the biggest breeding kink in nct (IT'S TRUE !!!!), so he definetly didn't want to waste a second of this.

he slowly pulled out, and moved the camera down to your used pussy, where his cum slowly dripped out. he heard you whine of "markieeee" when you saw what he was doing, but he just smiled to himself.

this was going straight to his favourites.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee hard thoughts #mark lee hard hours #nct dream #nct x reader #mark lee smut #nct 127 #nct smut #nct drabbles #nct #mark x reader #nct mark

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d-targaryenshoe · 9 months ago

Text

Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 1515

Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?

As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed.

The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning.

You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind.

But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.

You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber.

To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond.

And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.

You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony.

Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her.

With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with.

Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible.

As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement.

"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"

You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"

Eloise shrugged.

"We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.

"Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon."

As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.

Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today.

As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.

"Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."

Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile.

"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear."

She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony.

Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family.

She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe.

As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."

Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words.

They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support.

As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months."

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."

Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework.

"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always."

Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.

It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.

As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment.

Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.

"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?"

Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne.

They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.

"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby."

Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed.

Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.

The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.

As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you.

It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat.

The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.

Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond.

The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family.

Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music.

Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.

As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement.

You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes.

The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.

Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps.

They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.

It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.

As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion.

He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."

"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"

Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.

"That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that."

"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."

He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.

As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 2 years ago

Text

Yuu is Loopy and Doesn't Recognize Them

Based of this meme I saw and I couldn't get it out of my head

GN. Yuu isn’t drunk but is loopy on potions/meds. A bit Suggestive??? Leona calls you Scavenger/Pillow Enjoy

Riddle

Riddle swore that when he sees Ace again, it will be off with his head. The brain dead idiot is responsible for landing you in the nurse's office. Thankfully, according to Professor Crewel, you will be okay and were ready to go back to Ramshackle.

Being the responsible boyfriend he is, he made sure to take your arm and guide you through the mirror to Ramshackle and into the creaky dorm. You were obviously still a bit out of it as you stumbled through the hall and didn’t appear to hear anything he said. As he approached the stairs, wondering how he would get you into your room did you speak.

“Where are we going?” You slurred rubbing your temples with your fingers. “To your room,” Riddle answered. “Rose, can you hear me now?” Riddle asked, voice tinged with worry. “Why are we going…” you paused trying to formulate words, “…to some room?” Riddle raised a brow and spoke slowly, relaxing his grip on your arm as he did so. “You need to get some rest, don’t worry I’ll make sure you sleep well, okay?"

To his confusion, you suddenly pulled away from him and stumbled back a little. “Ah, Rose what are you—“ “Sorry you seem really nice and all but I have a boyfriend.” “Huh?!” Stumbling backward away from Riddle you practically fell onto the couch behind you. “Sorry I’m not gonna sleep with anyone, I have a boyfriend…” You slurred again, making Riddle stiffen before going pink and letting out a chuckle.

“Rose, I am your—“ “Goodnight” You whispered before promptly passing out on the couch. Riddle just stood there for a moment stupified, before softly chuckling to himself. You really did love him, huh?

Leona

“What's wrong with you?” Leona asked upon seeing Ruggie drag his seemingly blitzed-out partner behind them into his room. “I dunno what happened but Professor Crewel said to let them rest,” Ruggie responded. “So you brought them to me?” Ruggie’s face fell, he knew damn well if he were the one to take you home that Leona would have complained. “Well, they’re your problem now shishishi! Good luck”

Letting out a yawn, Leona looked over to where you stood wobbling. “Come here, Pillow.” The lion leaned up and pulled you toward the bed. You weakly tried to pull your hand away. “Eh? What gives?” Leona’s ears twitch as you stumble back. “My boyfriend will get upset if he sees you holding my hand. “Oh yeah?” The lion smirked.

“Yeah, and I’m not a cheater either so leave me alone.” You mutter, eyes fluttering as you fight off sleep. Leona pulls you closer to him easily. “I am your boyfriend.” The shocked expression that arises on your face is one he will never forget. “No way that's awesome!”

“Yeah yeah, get to bed, scavenger.” He smirks, pulling you into his arms. As you fade into unconsciousness, he watches over you. Just how did he get so lucky?

Azul

Azul didn’t know who he should be mad at: Jade for feeding you some mysterious mushroom concoction that he sure would have no side effects or you for actually agreeing to test out Jade’s new drink. Regardless you are now in the VIP room of Mostro Lounge as Azul goes through some of the potions he has on hand.

Sitting on the VIP couch you watched as Azul kneeled beside you. The mer fussed over you as you seemingly stared through him. Despite his lips moving you couldn’t hear anything he said. “Um, Angelfish are you alright?” Azul asks nervously as your eyes bore a hole through him.

“You kinda look like… my boyfriend…” you slur. If he wasn’t worried sick, he would have actually found the situation humorous, dumbfounded he responded. “Well, what does he look like?” “He’s so beautiful, man.” You sigh.

Azul feels his cheeks heat up as he uncorks a curing potion, wondering how he’s going to get you to drink it. “Like… I love him so much… He’s so pretty and soft and I wanna hold him…” “… Come now love, try and drink this and then rest…” The mer stutters and holds the bottle to your lips. Thankfully, you downed it pretty easily and promptly fell asleep muttering about how much you loved your boyfriend the whole time. Azul’s face was several shades of blue.

Jamil

Vil ended up poisoning you pretty badly during his overblot, and Jamil has been worried sick, to say the least as he sits beside your bed in the nurse's office, impatiently waiting for you to wake up. As you begin to stir, all of Jamil’s attention snaps to you.

“Yuu?” He calls out, giving you a few moments to stir and wake up. You blink tiredly at him before sitting up and looking around. Jamil wanted to crush you into a hug and ask if you were alright but knew that it may overwhelm you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, taking your hands into his as the heart monitor continues to beep. You blink owlishly and look at your hands. “I have a boyfriend.” You say after a while. Jamil didn’t know if he should be annoyed or amused, but it did flatter him to know how loyal you are to him.

A mischievous glint appears in his eye. “I am your boyfriend.” Your eyes widen as the heart monitor picks up, beeping loudly as you smile. “I love you…” You slur, trying to lean into your lover's touch.

Vil

After a certain Shroud’s overblot, you were left hospitalized in a coma for a week. Vil was worried sick and visited you as much as he could, if he couldn't be there, Rook would watch over you for him. When he saw a text notification for Rook saying you were awake, he went to visit you immediately.

Rook didn’t have time to warn Vil about your condition as he walked in and immediately held your face, looking deep into your eyes before hugging you, body shaking as he held onto you. “You’re awake…” He says after a long pause.

You pull away from Vil, and the blond gets ready to scold you for your reckless behavior until he notices your expression. "I have… a boyfriend named Vil… sorry…" you babble before passing out again. Vil would make sure to scold you later

Idia

He was confused when he saw Ortho holding your hand and guiding you to his room. He didn't know how to explain it, but as he watched you through the camera feed something about your movements felt… off

Once Ortho dragged you into his room did he figure out what was wrong? "It's the side effect of their medication," Ortho said after explaining how you ended up in the nurse's room— why did they even discharge you in this state??

Idia groaned and started to clean off his bed to make room for you, before getting up and helping Ortho to guide you over to his bed. "Come on Yuu-shi the sooner you sleep the better." You didn't budge. Instead, you stared through him. Idia stared back awkwardly.

"You seem nice but I already have a boyfriend and I love him." Idia's hair flushed pink. "Eh? What did you say?" "I love my boyfriend and only him so I can't sleep with you…"

You instead sit down slowly and lay on the floor, immediately falling asleep much to Ortho's confusion and Idia's embarrassment.

Malleus

"Oh dear, what happened to you?" Malleus asked as you stumbled up the path to Ramshackle. It was supposed to be your nightly walk together but you didn't look so good.

You didn't respond as you allowed Malleus to help guide you into Ramshackle and onto the couch. After a moment Malleus asks again, "Mind telling me what happened to you?"

"No worries, I happen to have a recovery spell I can use…" Malleus hums, preparing a spell. "You sound like my boyfriend…" Malleus chuckles. "Is that so Child of Man?" You lazily nod. "He's my most favorite person in the entire world…" you yawn, and Malleus can only admire you, lovestruck.

"I don't think Jade made me the right tea…" you mutter as you lay down. Malleus makes sure to note that he would have to pay a visit to Jade later as he frets over you.

#not requests #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader

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livelaughlovesubs · 6 months ago

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Nini I want to fuck a demon boy so bad I can't. I'm so sleep deprived and this is the only thing on my mind. The idea of this powerful demon who's not used to being challenged, just ending up ass up face down on the floor, bed WHEREVER. It's not important. Ending up like that is just peak. Also I like to think they'd have sensitive tails. So. Like. I totally.

Wanna make them fuck themselves with their own tail. I think that'd be great. I think it would be awesome.

I want them to get so flustered at the idea of doing it, but do it anyway just coz I told them to. I can almost imagine them finding their own prostate with their tail, and really they can't decide which sensation to focus on. Feeling themselves clench around their own tail, or the way the slightly pointed end slams into their prostate. And bonus points if they cum and you overstim them by grabbing their tail and fucking them so much harder than they could themselves. Hooray, now they've got

your hand around their already much too sensitive tail

said sensitive tail is being slammed into their ass

it's gotta feel so good, they'd probably be so tight around themselves

your hand is gonna slip a few times, which is gonna end up in stroking their tail, which has got to feel like heaven for them

not to forget that you're thrusting their tails directly onto their prostate without letting them breathe

I just. I don't know. I think they'd look so pretty, flushed and begging to stop, even though it's them that keeps weakly trying to thrust their tail back into themselves. Also, they'd look so pathetic, sobbing from the overstimulation. I'm a sucker for tears trailing down their faces, eyes red and a little puffy. It'd almost make you wanna be nice to them. Almost.

But yknow, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. And sometimes what a girl's gotta do is fuck a demon stupid with their own tail. (I don't have the same way with words as some people, but like do you see the vision)

~a sleep deprived,🧁anon

You are so smart holy shit. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Fucking a demon with their own tail? Why didn’t I think of something as great as this??! Lemme write down my thoughts for a sec- (btw I thought you are like, very religious?)

Dom!reader x sub!character

You had a long day behind you, and there was nothing sweeter than the thought of finally getting some sleep. All you wanted was to have a good rest, but to your demise you woke up in the middle of the night with something heavy on top of you. “Ops, I didn’t mean to wake you up. Oh well this will do too.” What the hell? It was a fucking person?? First thing you did was push him off of you and turning on the lights, then you thought this was some kind of weird joke. He had two horns growing out of his forehead, as well as a super long tail with a heart shaped tip. Not to mention the pink, glowing tattoo on his pelvis. When he opened his mouth again, you thought you didn’t hear right. “I’m an incubus, pleasant to meet you~ now let me feast on you, pretty please?”

An incubus, so, in other words a demon. What in the- never mind. He said he wanted to feast on you? Heck no, he woke you up in the middle of the night and is expecting you to have the energy to fuck him? As soon as he got up to try make a move on you, you flipped him over and tangled your hand in his hair, then pressed his face into your pillow. “If you are that desperate do it yourself.” Of course that little slut was into that.

He reached for his dick, but you slapped his hand away and instead grabbed his tail. “MhMngh- aaAAHhnn~!” A surprised yet blissful moan escaped him, face all red as lust fills their already sinful body. Anticipation swelling inside them at the thought of what you might do with them. That’s when they felt their own tail poking against their butt… wait wha? In the mean time you stroked it gently while whispering, “I want to watch you fuck yourself, who knows, I might reward you afterwards.” Suddenly all their previous confidence vanished as embarrassment took over. With their own tail..?? How did you even get that idea! Not even something as perverted as them had such outrageous ideas..!

In the end they could only obey without protesting, trusting their already super sensitive tail into their tight, wet hole. Each time they accidentally hit their prostate, they’d yelp and whimpers. Pretty tears are already rolling down their even prettier faces. Eyes half lidded as they whine, “mhm! Ah-ahhHh.. nghHnn~!!” All while their poor, useless dick is twitching around on its own, making a mess everywhere <3

Gojo, Sukuna, Dazai, Fyodor, Nikolai, jouno, Scaramouch, Kaeya, lyney, Ayato, Aventurine, Sampo, Jing Yuan (?), Douma - your favourites

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pboogerswbb · 19 days ago

Text

TOO LOST IN YOU

Paige Bueckers x reader (no use of y/n)

reader is a bartender at ted’s! and had a falling out with paige after fucking on and off for months. now paige is back at ted’s, needing her again.

part 2

Warnings: SMUT! also toxic!paige and language etc. you know the drill

A/N: wrote this because i'm stubborn and competitive and that one anon (who since apologised ily lol) thought english wasn't my first language lmao. also, this COULD become a multiple part series if people want but idk, idek if i'll ever write anything else lol. but we'll see! please let me know, would love to hear you guys' thoughts :) ily. ALSO the title comes from the song Too Lost In You by Sugababes (which will be the inspo for the series if this actually becomes one). SORRY THIS IS SO LONG OMG

“Yo I’m about to get fucked up tonight” A strong voice comes through from the bar entrance.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. Before I even lift my gaze I’m brought back to the memories of her talking into my ear mid shift, hands on my waist, soft whispers in my ear telling me how good I looked. Or the flashing images of her in my bed on top of me, sweat dripping down her back, talking me through it inbetween groans. The images I replayed over and over in my head, a lot more than I’d like to admit - more than was okay for someone who had called the whole thing off between us anyway.

In a panic I quickly bent down to hide behind the bar, pretending that scrubbing the sticky liquor stains off the floor was of the utmost importance. All just to get away from having to serve her.

“Hey, can you get this one, I’m dying for a break” Natalie, my co-worker, says - clueless to the hiding or the cause of it. For a moment I consider faking a heart attack, throwing a glass at her, or simply screaming “no”. But her round eyes (and the fact I needed to keep this job to pay the bills) softened me. With a deep breath I nod and stand up behind the bar, as Natalie walks off. Leaving me face to face with her.

She’s standing in front of me - Paige. It had been weeks since I had seen her last, doing everything in my power to avoid her. My eyes can’t help it though when they travel from her long fingers to her veiny hands to her broad shoulders that I swear had filled out even more in the weeks I hadn’t seen her. My gaze roams over her neck and my knees almost buckle at the memory of burying my head there, leaving open mouthed kisses on her pale skin. The way it bruised and reddened. The navy blue Uconn trackies made her skin even brighter, and I swear she glowed a little. Finally, my eyes land on her bright blue eyes that are already staring at me, heavy lidded, needy even. The way they always looked when she made her way to my dorm in the middle of the night, needing me.

Her eyes widen. “Oh… didn’t know you were working today” Paige says. It’s a lie. It’s clear in the strain of her voice, the way her fingers twitch. Last time we talked I told her I never wanted to see her again. But right now as she towered over me forcing me to tilt my head up to meet her gaze, I nearly forgot why.

“Whatchu want?” I ask, ignoring her statement already instinctively reaching for the grenadine. I knew her too well to pretend anything else. My stomach twisted uncomfortably thinking about how we had left things between us.

Paige pretends to think. “Uhh… a dirty shirley.” Her words are slightly slurred. She’d already been drinking. I move my eyes away from hers, unable to take the severity of her stare. The tension is broken, however, by a very drunk KK crashing into Paige and leaning over the bar. “also shots” KK adds and nudges Paige who smiles weakly, her eyes never leaving mine. With the way she looked I might’ve thought she had missed me - but I knew better. Paige Bueckers did not yearn for any girl. Certainly not me.

I smile widely at KK. “You wanna be more specific?” I ask, making the shirley with a rehearsed ease. I had made quite a few since Paige had taken a liking to me earlier in the year, coming over to Ted’s almost every night, sitting in the corner with her teammates watching me, tipping me way too much with that smug grin of hers. It would’ve pissed me off if she wasn’t so insanely, out of this world hot.

“Anything strong” KK snorts and I let out a chuckle, reaching for the vodka. “You got it.”

I set the drinks on the counter but Paige is quick to grab hers, her fingertips pressing into mine for just a moment. I nearly whimper at the contact, seeing how Paige’s jaw flexes and cheeks blush. She felt it as much as I did, the tension from the last time we slept together.

“Thanks…” Paige murmurs uncharacteristically quiet. KK rolling her eyes and scoffing, grabs the shots for her and the team. “Bro” KK shakes her head at the interaction, leaving the blonde alone with me to pay. I try to ignore the burn between my legs, watching her long fingers shuffling through cash in her wallet. It would take a gun for me to admit I had been thinking about those fingers during lonely nights and fuck, even nights spent with other people. No matter what no one ever measured up to how those fingers knew exactly what to do, which buttons to push.

“Keep the rest, ma” Paige says, snapping me out of my daydream. My mind is too hazy to take in the nickname. I can’t get a single word out before she’s already turning away, dirty shirley in hand and a stupid grin on her face. She had got to me and she was enjoying every moment.

–

Paige dangled over the bar, her eyes wide and searching, finally setting on me walking out from the back. She’s pushing her blonde hair off her face with a sloppy, uncoordinated movement, clearly feeling the alcohol. I stop her before she can speak though.

“If you want another one you gotta ask Natalie, I’m off my shift,” I tell Paige, refusing to give her my attention the way I knew she wanted.

“I know, you’re off this time every week,” Paige chuckles and leans forward with her elbows on the bar. She was in a Uconn tee now, her biceps flexing. It takes all my willpower not to stare. “We should talk.”

“We really shouldn’t,” I say sternly, taking off the name tag I had been wearing. “Pretty sure I said I never wanted to talk to you again.”

“Sure and you also called me a bitch but never stopped us from fucking before either,” Paige says, a slight annoyance in her voice, preferring to have her way. She’s licking on her grenadine stained lips, chasing my gaze. I finally meet hers, ignoring the aching I felt looking at her eyes on me. I knew how this ended up unless I left. Now.

“I have class tomorrow,” i sigh, walking around the bar towards the exit and throwing on my jacket. Before I know it Paige’s hand grips my arm holding me still. I can smell her around me. Grenadine and alcohol sure, but also the scent of her. The scent I looked for everywhere. Her eyes were pleading, like I was water and she was on fire. I almost forgot why I hated her, just for a second.

“Lemme drive you ma,” Paige pleads.

“You can’t drive, you're drunk” I scoff, brushing her hand off of me. A feeble attempt as Paige’s free arm quickly snakes around my waist and pulls me in, her scent so strong now it’s making me dizzy.

“But I need to talk to you, been driving me crazy,” She murmurs with a slight whine in her voice. For a moment I waver, her hand firmly on the small of my back, all her height towering over me. It made my head spin.

Paige takes it as a sign and leans closer, pulling me in tighter but I place my hand on her chest holding her back, suddenly aware of how empty the bar was and how the most famous person on campus probably shouldn’t be doing this in public. I notice the way her chest is heaving, mine doing the same. The fabric of the shirt underneath my fingertips felt all sorts of wrong, I needed it off of her immediately. No, I had to be stronger than this.

But I wasn’t.

“Do you need a ride back to campus?” I ask her and swallow. The way her tongue slides over her lower lip as she watches me forces a deep blush to set on my face.

“Yeah, bad,” Paige murmurs and I push her hands off me, wordlessly heading to the door with Paige following close behind. She hurries past me to open the car door for me. I would think it was sweet if I didn’t know that it was just one of her plays. One of the ways she made girls like me think she actually cared. She didn’t. She just wanted to fuck.

The air is tense as I start the car, praying Paige doesn’t notice the slight tremble of my hand. I’m not sure if it’s anger or how weak her touch had made me feel. Either way I had to get rid of her fast. Paige slouches on the passenger seat, watching me with hooded eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. Her legs were spread wide apart, sweatpants pulled low enough for her the logo Nike Pros to peek out. For a second all I want to do is pull up somewhere desolate and climb on top of her - from the smirk on Paige’s face I can tell she’s having the exact same thoughts.

The quiet hum of the car motor soothes my nerves until her voice cuts through the air.

“Been missing you y’know-” Paige starts but I interrupt, knowing she had the tendency to talk herself right into my bed.

“Told you I never wanted to talk to you again, remember?” I say with a slight shake in my voice.

“Baby c’mon, you weren’t serious about that,” She groans, her voice filled with amusement.

“What, the screaming didn’t seem serious to you?” I sigh, my eyes strictly on the road. Paige let’s out a chuckle and leans forward on her seat.

“Ion remember non of that, just remember how bad I wanted to fuck that attitude out of you,” she chuckles and the car slides into the passing lane momentarily as i slap her only half seriously across the chest. I pull over on the road, parking the car. The amusement in her tone pissed me off bad. I had enough.

“Get out” I tell Paige sternly, rage and annoyance swirling inside me. She had no right to be making light of the situation. Not after what she did, how bad it had hurt me.

Paige lets out a laugh. “Man you’re crazy” she tells me turning to face me. I face her too, the anger turning my cheeks even brighter.

“I’m fucking serious. Get out,” I repeat my voice rising a little but it doesn’t have the desired effect. Paige just chuckles and shakes her head. I wanted to strangle her, she drove me crazy.

“KK always telling me I pick the crazy ones, I’m thinking she’s right,” Paige groans, not taking any initiative to get out of my car. I unbuckle my seatbelt and groan. I lean over Paige manspreading on the passenger seat, reaching for her door as she grabs my wrist, my face so close to hers I could smell the alcohol on her breath. The air in the car shifts, my annoyance turning into something that made my legs feel weak, as she licks her lips, her eyes on me. “M sorry ok,” Paige says, her voice low and hoarse now. Her eyes plead again.

And I fold, again.

“I don’t wanna hear a word from you, mmkay?” I say clearing my throat and pulling back from her before I made some really, really bad choices.

“Yes ma’am,” Paige grins, satisfied by the effect she had on me.

I start the car and in silence we drive back to Storrs, the streets quiet on the dark tuesday night. Paige fiddles with the zipper of her hoodie, her nimble fingers needing something to do - always looking for something to toy with.

I tried to shake the feeling of each cell in my body screaming for her, needing to feel her skin against mine. I knew we weren’t good for each other. She wasn’t good for me. Part of me wished she came to tell me she’s done fucking around. That I’m all she wants, better than all the countless other girls that spent nights in her bed. That I was different, special. Worth letting everyone else go for. Frankly, even if she told me all those things, each word I wanted to hear, I wouldn’t believe her.

When you were with Paige, it never felt like you were one of many though. She knew how to make you feel like you were the only one. It was in the way her blue eyes roamed my face, in the whine of her voice - like she would die if she didn’t have me. She’d remember your favourite movie and your mother’s name and the way you liked your coffee. All just to go see some other bitch later and repeat the same routine with her. Even with the girls she fucked, she had to be the best. Not because they meant anything, but because that’s who she had to be - the best. A winner.

Paige stretches her arms behind her head, the grey Uconn tee hiking up just enough for the skin on her lower abdomen to peek out as I park the car. Jesus. I quickly look away.

There’s a moment of silence, Paige staring at me intently.

“Look, I-” she starts but I quickly climb out of the car, not wanting to hear it. She’s quick to follow me though, her long limbs catching up to me faster than I liked.

“Ma, c’mon-”

“Don’t call me that,” I say, doing my best to sound stern as I head towards my dorm in a hurry, Paige right next to me. The campus was empty, most students already in their dorms, spending the night in.

“Bro you gotta listen to me-”

“No I don’t, you got your ride home now fuck off!” I yelp, entering the building as Paige holds the door open for me, still persistent on following me. “You said you’d keep your mouth shut so… keep it shut Paige.”

“Well… I lied” She murmurs rubbing the back of her neck, still on my tail all the way to my door. For a moment she watches me struggle with the lock, my hands shaky from the mix of anger and how bad the need between my legs had grown just from being near her. Paige reaches over, unlocking the door for me, her hands brushing against mine. I close my eyes and sigh - I really had to get it together.

“Well yeah you do that huh,” I say bitterly entering my dorm. Paige leans against the doorframe, not letting me lock her out.

Paige chuckles and shakes her head. “Bro you’re being so dramatic, we both knew what this was when we got into it. It’s not like you didn’t fuck around too!” Paige raises her voice, slightly amused, slightly bitter.

The truth was, I hadn’t slept around. Since Paige first fucked me, she took over me, consumed me. I would never admit this to her but I couldn’t even think about anyone else.

“God, you can be such a bitch I swear to-” I groan loudly, rolling my eyes but Paige interrupts me, stepping into my room.

“Me?! You’re the most psycho bitch I ever met-”

“Psycho bitch?!” I’m screaming now, my body hot with rage. “It was you who told me you weren’t fucking anyone else with some other bitch’s bra under your bed! Not me!”

Paige groans and shuts the door behind her, throwing her head back in frustration. “It’s just something people say! You were in those purple panties too ma, I’m not responsible for the shit I say when you wear those,” Paige argues. I chuckle, turning to face her. She was staring at me, heavy lidded and jaw sharper than usual from grinding her teeth together. Paige was getting pissed off, wondering if any pussy was worth this much trouble.

“You’re a fucking sociopath P!” I yell at her as she takes a step towards me, her eyes darkening. The blue in her eyes nearly gone from the way her pupils were blown out.

Paige grins smugly at me, licking her lower lip, looking me up and down. “Yeah? What else?” she says smugly, her big hands coming to hold me by my waist. The moment my eyes meet hers I knew it was over for me. Suddenly my legs felt weak, and my head spun.

“An asshole too,” I answer, my voice breathy and more quiet. My body was immediately responding to her touch, Paige’s fingertips sliding underneath the hem of my shirt sending goosebumps everywhere.

“Yeah?” Paige grins, with a smug tone. I nearly fall over.

“Yeah,” I repeat, my chest heaving.

“That’s too bad ma…” Paige murmurs, her eyes roaming from my eyes to my lips, down my body.

I furrow my brows, fighting to not let out a whimper as her fingertips rubbed up and down against my sides, carefully over each rib. Up and down.

“It’s too bad 'cause I’ve been dying to fuck you,” She says with a low voice, eyes returning to meet mine. “Shit baby, watching you tonight, the way your ass looks in those jeans? Fuckin' killing me,” she adds shaking her head. Paige’s hand drifts down from my waist to my hips, all the way to my ass. Gripping it hard as she groans.

I can’t fight the whimper that spills from my lips, the way my eyes flutter shut just for a moment. Paige grins, watching my reaction. She pulls me closer by my ass, my body pressing against hers as she towers over me. Paige leans down, nuzzling her nose against my ear. And I don’t stop her. I bite my lip, feeling the way my panties were growing damp already. Only Paige could have this kind of effect on me - one touch and a few words and that grin and I was hers. She knew it as well as I did and I hated her for it.

I was too weak to hate her right now though. Too far gone.

“But since you hate me so bad…” Paige whispers into my ear, her lips brushing against it as she leaves a few wet kisses right under it. “I should probably leave.”

In a haze I reach up to wrap my hands around her, my hand pressing against the back of her neck to keep her there. To make sure she didn’t go.

“No…” I nearly whine. Paige chuckles against my neck, kissing it slow and soft. Her hand kneads my ass again, like she had been dying to feel it.

“No? You want me to stay?” She says, teasing.

“Want you to stay,” I murmur, tilting my head to the side, my eyes shut now.

“Want me to get you right ma?” Paige asks hoarsely. My body feels like putty as she holds me against her, like she could do whatever and I could do nothing but watch. I didn’t feel in control. I never did with her.

“Y-yes,” I finally admit with a sigh.

Paige pulls away from my neck, her lips ghosting mine. Her breathing was heavy. She needed this just as bad as I did.

“Attagirl,” she murmurs and finally presses her lips against mine. I moan against her, Paige’s lips slide against mine hungrily - like all these weeks apart she had been underwater and I was air. She could finally breathe.

With a swift movement, Paige pulls my shirt off, leaving me in a bra and jeans as her lips return to mine with a groan. Paige’s tongue slides against my lower lip, begging for access. I open my mouth, my tongue meeting hers, my hands pulling on her t-shirt, feeling the muscles on her abdomen, earning a small whine from her.

“Fuck,” she whimpers and walks me back without breaking the kiss. The backs of my legs hit the edge of my bed, forcing me to fall over. Paige watches me hungrily, her mouth ajar just slightly as her eyes roamed my body. “So fucking sexy,” she groans, pulling her shirt off over her head before climbing on top of me in her sports bra.

Paige starts kissing my neck roughly, sucking and nibbling enough to leave bruises to remind me of her later. Her leg finds its way between my legs, quickly pressing against my core as her free hand roams my side, fingers sliding underneath my bra and kneading my breast.

“Fuck, P…” I whimper arching my back off the bed. The friction provided by her leg was the opposite of relieving, making me more aware of all the layers of fabric between our bodies. “Need these off,” I murmur breathlessly, my hands pulling the blue sweatpants down desperately as Paige’s open mouth moves from my neck to my jaw.

“Whatever you want baby,” she whispers, kicking off her pants. She was now on top of me in a sports bra and Nike pros, a silver chain dangling against my chest. Paige leans back a little, eyes roaming my body, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe I was real. Her blonde hair was down and tousled from the way I had been gripping it. She grabs a hair tie from her wrist, tying it back messily, licking her lips.

“Baby, I need to taste you or I might die.”

With that Paige brings her lips back to my neck, making her way down with a trail of wet, sloppy kisses between my breasts, down my stomach, my hip bones, her hands unbuttoning my jeans, shaky with need.

I watch as she gets on her knees on the floor between my legs, her blue eyes my face as she pulls down my jeans painfully slowly. I buck my hips, needing her mouth on me so bad I felt lightheaded. Paige’s hands pin my hips down with a grin, eyes moving to my panties and the visible spot that had grown wetter under her gaze.

“Fuuuckk ma,” she groans, finally bringing her lips to my core, kissing over my panties.

I whine and grip the sheets beside me, trying to buck my hips closer but Paige shakes her head, still holding my hips still firmly against the mattress. “Thought you hated me,” she murmurs against my core. I wanted to cry, needing her lips on my bare skin. The feel of her mouth through my panties wasn’t enough.

“I do,” I whine, squirming in frustration, throbbing with need. I wanted to hate her, I really did. But when she was between my legs, pinning me down, a chain on her neck and that smirk on her face, I simply couldn’t.

Paige brings her hand to my hip, finally pulling my panties down to my ankles, her eyes never leaving my core. With a bite of her lip, she brings her finger to my cunt, already soaked, all for her. Her fingertip presses against my clit menacingly, enough to make me gasp.

“If you hate me so much then why are you this wet huh?” Paige teases with a gravelly voice, starting to circle my clit slowly, drawing out whimpers from my lips. My legs immediately trembled, and I watched her with heavy eyes and furrowed brows, nearly unable to think yet alone speak.

“You’ve been such a bitch all night shoulda known you just needed to be fucked,” she chuckles, pressing her fingers harder against my clit, making me let out a moan. It had been weeks since we last did this yet the way she touched me seemed practiced and effortless, like she had been doing it every single day of her life.

“Fuck you,” I moan arching my back as Paige bit on my inner thigh, the veins in her forearm turning visible from the strain of rubbing my clit.

“Nah ma,” she breathes out, shaking her head. “I’mma fuck you. Just need to taste this pussy first,” Paige groans and leans over, both her hands gripping my inner thighs harshly, forcing them apart as she dives in face first, her lips quickly attaching to my clit.

“Shit. Paige, I-” I moan, unable to come up with any comprehensible thought, Paige’s tongue lapping me up like she really would die if she didn’t taste me. Paige’s eyes are fluttering shut and she’s moaning against my cunt, unable to get enough.

“Fucking missed this pussy so bad,” she murmurs against me, wrapping her lips around my clit and sucking. “Taste so fucking good, never gonna get enough of you,” she rambles on, making a quick mess of me. It doesn’t take long for the coil in my stomach to tighten, my hand gripping onto Paige’s blond hair, falling out of the bun now.

“Paige-” I whine, throwing my head back, feeling her tongue swirling in my folds. The sheets underneath me were growing damp, wetness dripping out of me from how good she was eating me out.

Paige pulls away spreading my folds apart with her fingers. “Shit ma she loves me huh,” she groans at the sight of me dripping all over the bed. Her words make my eyes roll back. Without warning she pushes two fingers inside me, all the way, as deep as she could.

“OH fuck P” I gasp loud, bringing my eyes to her face, glistening with the mess I had made on her. She groans, my cunt tight and wet around her fingers as she curls them against me, her bicep flexing as she does. I moan loudly, throwing my head back, my legs shaking bad. Paige’s thumb rubs against my clit harshly as she pumps her fingers into me, other hand holding my squirming body still.

“P… mmph, please,” I cry out, not even sure what I'm pleading for.

“Shh,” Paige coos, her hand reaching up to cover my mouth and shut me up. “Listen ma,” she says and groans. The room is filled with the sound of my wet cunt, as her fingers slam into me faster, curling harder. My cheeks burn up, almost embarrassed at the state that she had me in.

Paige grins watching my face. “Don’t sound like you hate me, huh,” she murmurs, a bead of sweat dripping down her face. “No one else gets you this wet right? No one fucks you like this,” she groans, hand moving from my mouth to gripping my jaw, making me watch her finger me.

“Mmmh,” i whimper and grip the sheets harder, overwhelmed with the fullness her fingers were causing. I wanted to look away, unable to take the way her arm looked, muscles flexing, veins prominent, as she worked me. It was all overwhelming me as the pleasure built enough to make me shut my eyes.

“Answer me,” Paige commands, her voice stern and her hand moving faster.

“Shit… No one.. No one fucks me like this,” I cry out, unaware of what was coming out of my mouth. Too fucked out to care.

Paige moans. “Shit, that’s right. No one baby, only me,” she murmurs, her mouth returning to my clit, tongue working against it as her fingers fill me up, overwhelming me and getting me to my peak.

“P- I’m close,” I cry out, my legs nearly shutting but Paige grips my thigh with her free hand, spreading me open for her.

“That’s it ma, s’ good for me,” Paige coos working harder, her fingers curling inside me, tongue flicking against my clit. “Come for me baby,” she praises, groaning against me.

“Oh-” I whine and my head lulls back as my core tightens around her, my legs trembling, Paige fucking an orgasm me to my orgasm. Who cared she slept around, who cared I was supposed to hate her. In this moment, it was just me and her. And no one made me feel like she did, no one took care of me like this.

“Perfect fucking pussy, all for me,” Paige groans against my cunt, working me as I released all over her, the pleasure washing over me in waves. My moans turn to whimpers as I slowly come down, her movements slowing too.

I let out a breath, feeling the aching emptiness inside me as Paige pulled her hand away. She watches my pulsing cunt, mesmerised and hungry. The thing about Paige, one was never enough for her. Her lips kissed around my clit before pulling away, licking her lips from my mess.

“Missed how you taste baby,” she murmurs while I lay back, trying to catch my breath. Paige brought her fingers against my lips, sliding them into my mouth. I wrap them around her fingers, tongue swirling against her, tasting myself. Paige hisses, watching me sucking on her fingers. With a groan she climbs back up, kissing me hungrily. The taste of me, and her saliva all mixing together.

Her lips move against mine, the kiss filled with something more tender than pure lust. My arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in as we move up towards the headboard of the bed. Paige breathes heavily through her nose, kissing me with all the need she had, her hand holding my face by my jaw. I move my hand from her shoulder, down her arm, squeezing her bicep, all the way to the band of her Nike Pros, tucking on them.

“Need to feel you P,” I admit in a moment of weakness, my heart fluttering with how good it felt to be underneath her again. I needed all of her.

Paige pulls back a little, breathing heavy and I swear her eyes are filled with tenderness for just a second as they meet mine. Her fingertips trace my jaw and lower lip before letting go and pulling down the fabric I was tugging on, lips parted from need. My eyes roam her sports bra covered chest, down the muscles of her abdomen finally to her core. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly going dry.

I reach up and flip us over, with some help from Paige who was much stronger. She grins, watching me on top of her, straddling her thigh as I lean down and kiss her hard. Paige is quick to place her hand on my ass, gripping it harshly and hissing at how good it felt to touch me. My hand trails down her abdomen, fingertips itching to feel her cunt but she grabs my wrist, shaking her head.

“Ride me ma,” she says, half commanding, half pleading. I open my eyes meeting her eyes and I realise, she is fully pleading.

“Need to feel that pussy on mine.” Shit.

Too weak to fight or to make her beg, I maneuver myself between her legs, angling her body just right, Paige’s other leg up in the air in my grip. Paige watches me, leaning back against the bedframe, eyes half shut and mouth agape, looking so good I could’ve burst.

Finally, I lower myself against her, feeling the slick of her cunt press against mine.

“Ohhh shiiit,” Paige groans, watching our cores grinding against each other. I whimper, pressing on her lower abdomen to find just the right angle.

“Oh,” I whine, feeling her pressing against my clit just right, my body immediately trembling, still sensitive from my previous orgasm.

Paige’s head lulls back at the same time, as she lets out a guttural groan, gripping my ass and forcing me to start moving my hips.

I do so, slowly, drawing it out for her - just the way Paige loved and simultaneously hated. Her breathing was getting heavier as she watched me. “Just like that,” she whimpers, trying to keep herself together. It never lasted for long.

I moan, grinding my cunt into hers, watching her face scrunch up in pleasure. Her hands snake around me, unclasping my bra with ease, letting my tits fall out as she groans.

“Look so fucking good for me,” she murmurs, a slight whine in her voice as she leans forward, her mouth attaching itself to my nipple, tongue circling it as i ride her faster, mind spinning once more. “Such a bitch huh who knew you’d be so good for me,” Paige whines and I grip her shoulders, steadying myself, letting my nails dig into her skin as she hisses.

“You’re the bitch,” I whimper breathlessly, letting out a gasp when she bites my nipple. Paige’s hand are digging into the skin of my ass, forcing me to move faster, her hips bucking into me. She chuckles, breathing heavily, head falling back against the bed frame. “Shut the fuck up and ride me ma,” she hisses, gripping my jaw and forcing my gaze to lock on her face.

I hiss, furrowing my brows as i look down at her, moving my hips desperately, our cunts grinding together harshly, igniting that familiar burn inside me.

“Pisses me off, pretending you don't want me. Pretending you don’t want me to fuck you, it’s bullshit,” Paige groans, fighting back her own orgasm now. Her voice shook and the muscles in her abdomen were contracting as she looked up at me. “Look at you now riding my shit, being a slut for me,” she rambles on. “You’re my slut ma,” Paige moans bucking her hips into mine, eyes fluttering shut from pleasure.

My nails dig into her skin harder, my whole body trembling. I was close, and her words only made me ride harder, grind against her faster, the slickness of her cunt making me wetter. Paige’s hand squeezed my jaw, forcing my eyes open.

“Tell me.. Shit- tell me you’re my slut,” Paige whines. She’s desperate for it, barely aware of the words coming out of her mouth. I can tell she's close

“Mmph, P-” I moan, my cunt throbbing.

“Aw shit- I- Tell me,”

“Fuck I am, I’m your slut P, please,” I mewl, my eyes growing wet as they shut.

“That’s right ma, fuck- ride me so good you’re gonna make me come,” Paige murmurs out inbetween moans, hands gripping my jaw and ass so tight I’m nearly bruising underneath her grip.

My whole body shook and I cried out, barely able to keep grinding my cunt into hers, her clit pressing against mine. But when I heard the moan that slipped from her lips, and felt her mouth attach to my neck, I knew I’d do anything to get her to fall apart beneath me.

“P- I’m-” I cry out but she interrupts me.

“Me too baby, shit- ride me so- aw fuck- fucking good,” Paige rambles on, barely able to form sentences as she moves underneath me, the friction growing unbearable between us as she lets out a guttural moan, her body coiling underneath me.

“Fuck-” Paige finally moans.

That’s enough to get me there too, coming against her cunt, fingernails leaving marks on her shoulders as I kept grinding my hips, movements turning sloppy as i whimpered on top of her, riding down waves of pleasure.

My body trembles, eyes still closed when I feel Paige’s hands wrapping around my body and pulling me down. My naked body presses against her skin as she soothingly rubs my back, nuzzling her nose into my hair.

I sigh, listening to her trying to catch her breath. After a while, she breaks the silence.

“Meant it when I said I missed you,” she murmurs into my ear, still out of breath. I bury my head into the crook of her neck, brushing her hair gently. It was moments like these that got me confused. You didn’t do this just for someone you fucked. Except Paige did.

“Don’t like fightin' you,” she whispers, pressing a kiss on my temple. I feel my heart fluttering in a way I didn’t want it to. But I’m too tired to fight it. I press a kiss on her jaw, gently and pull my head back to meet her gaze. She looks completely fucked out, mascara smudged under tired eyes. Her hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my face before she leans over and kisses my forehead, as tenderly as humanly possible. Maybe this was her trying to show me I was in fact different, that she was done with the other girls. She just wanted me.

“Don’t like fighting you either,” I whisper, resting my chin on her chest. Paige’s eyes are filled with relief, as she smiles weakly.

“I’mma get us some water, okay ma?” Paige hums and I nod, letting her crawl out of bed from underneath me. I watch the blonde pull her clothes back on and turn to me, smiling affectionately. She leans down and presses another kiss on my temple, smoothing over the blanket to make sure I was comfortable. “Just a sec,” she whispers before walking into the kitchen. Surely you don’t do that just for a girl you fuck. There’s no way you look at someone like that and proceed to sleep around with other people. My heart flutters as I let my mind wander, finding myself fantasising of getting to call Paige mine. All mine.

Just then I heard Paige’s phone buzzing on the bedside table. Without my better judgement, I reach over, seeing countless missed calls and messages from a girl, asking where she was and when she’d be over. My heart sinks, the reality quickly bringing me back down from my daydreams. Paige wasn’t here because I was special. No. She was here because I was whipped, and she knew it. And I had given her every single thing she wanted.

taglist (ppl who commented on the teaser or urged me to write lol): @thaatdigitaldiary @wbbismypassion69 @uwupaige @lovegalor333 @celestixldarling @mrsbueckerss @t0ygirl @thesecondgaycousin @jnkfaist @rosemariiaa @sierrale8ne @janaelalfysblunt @tndaqlifwy @xxloveralways14 @vbueckers @bueckersfive

ty everyone enjoy this idk if i will write again lmao

#too lost in you #paige bueckers #lilas writing #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x female reader

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