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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

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You Have A Type, Don't You?

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Based on this post

I wrote this instead of doing any of the work I need to do! I'm gonna go do that now lol

Warnings: innuendos, minor references to sex, the barest hints of jealousy

Word Count: 1,601

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AO3

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Your pencil scratched across the paper, drawing Astarion over and over again on a single page. This wasn’t anything surprising; you drew all of your companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel - they all had pages of their own, but it was usually only one drawing. Some had even posed for it. It was just a way to relax, and their faces always lit up when you showed them, even if they tried not to show it.

Everyone needed a break from fighting and exploring day in day out, so you decided one more day here wouldn’t hurt. As such, you’ve spent the better half of the day just drawing. At first it was little doodles of Scratch, but then you realized you hadn’t drawn the vampire spawn yet.

Most of the expressions you captured came from memory. You’d occasionally sneak a glance for quick reference, pretending to stretch or get distracted by some birds. But at some point, he’d disappeared from camp. You just assumed he’d gone off hunting.

That assumption was proved quite wrong when a voice tsked over your shoulder, almost directly in your ear.

Startling away from the sound, you whipped around to see Astarion crouched down. He wore a self-satisfied smirk and settled down into a full sit on the ground.

“It seems someone is infatuated,” he teased. “So who is it? Someone we saved from peril, perhaps?”

Oh. Right. It had completely slipped your mind.

You cleared your throat as your cheeks warmed and smiled. “Y-Yeah, something like that.”

He chuckled. “Come on, darling, there’s nothing to be shy about. Spare none of the juicy details. What’s he like?”

“He’s, well,” you stammer, “he’s interesting.”

He scoffed. “That’s hardly juicy or a detail. Or is he just another pretty face?” He leaned forward, trying to get a better look at your drawings. You wanted to pull them away and hide them, but why? All the others had drawings done of them, and you loved showing it off when they were done. Why was this any different?

“No, he’s a lot more than that,” you admit quietly. You weren’t good at lying - usually Astarion took the lead any time you had to - but maybe if you didn’t tell a complete lie… “He’s funny, charming. His laugh lights up my world. He’s had a rough go of it, but he doesn’t like it to show.”

“He must like you if you know,” he hummed. Your heart leapt into your throat as he pointed to the pin pricks drawn on the neck. “Is he a vampire, too?” He chuckled, but it sounded strained. “You have a type, don’t you?”

You scoffed even as warmth flooded to your cheeks. “No! I do not have a type.”

“No, of course not,” he played along. “Certainly not for creatures of the night who bite into that pretty little neck of yours.” Despite his smile, there was a tension in his eyes. “I don’t mind, dear. I’d be more than happy to scrounge around some nights so you may indulge your new lover.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to do that, Astarion,” you assured. “He’s not… We’re not together.”

“No?” You shook your head again. He opened his mouth to give you advice or console you, but you cut him off. It was better to end this fantasy now, before it began to hurt too much.

“It doesn’t matter. Besides, you shouldn’t be sneaking around so you can look over my shoulder. I could have been drawing something terrible.”

He laughed. “All the more reason to risk a peek. You’re so good, it would be nice to know you can be tempted.” Then he scowled. “Unless it’s something terribly dull. You deserve much more than missionary.”

If your cheeks weren’t already blazing hot…

“In any case, I was only wondering when you’d draw my portrait. You seemed more than happy to provide the others with a likeness. And…” He looked past you, seemingly far away. “I haven’t seen myself in two centuries. One gets curious, especially when you’re as vain as me.”

If he heard your heart start racing, he didn’t comment on it. Drawing him would make him realize it wasn’t some other vampire crush you were drawing. But, it had been a while since your adventure began, and you’d drawn everyone else. You swallowed down your anxiety. “Yeah! Of course! Did you wanna pose, or anything?”

He blinked and suddenly he was back in the present. A sly smirk covered up whatever emotions could be lingering on his face. “If your little vampire friend doesn’t get too jealous. I would actually like if you could draw me just,” he paused, “smiling. It would be nice to know what everyone else sees. Make sure I’m not off-putting, you know how it is.”

Once he was sitting comfortably, you turned to a fresh page and began drawing. The paper was hidden from his view, but he watched as your hand, wrist, and arm all moved in tandem like a clock’s gears to create an image. Your eyes moved between the sketch and him multiple times. Sometimes you’d glance up and draw for almost a minute. Then other times you kept going back and forth, constantly checking for reference.

Watching you work was fascinating. All your surroundings faded away. Karlach being her usual loud self, Wyll dancing, Gale cooking, Lae’zel sharpening weapons - nothing could turn your attention from him. He almost felt subconscious with the intensity of it. Your eyes studied him, taking in every single feature, and translated it to your journal. What did you see when you looked at him, he wondered. What did the world see? It had been so long, he couldn’t even remember his face. All he knew was he was attractive.

With a final few marks, brushed away to blend them into the rest, you looked down at your masterpiece. You were so caught up in the drawing you forgot why you were hesitant before, but now that Astarion stared at you from two different angles, your anxiety came back full force. There was no way out of this.

“All done, dear?”

You smiled shakily up at him and turned the journal around. His face scrunched up in confusion. When he met your eyes, he was decidedly unamused. “Darling, if you’re going to draw your fleeting fancy, don’t trick me first. I know it’s hard to see past the depraved bloodlust, but we don’t all look alike, you know.”

“No, Astarion, it’s not- I-”

While you fought to find words, Karlach picked up the slack. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted across the camp, “IT’S YOU, FANGS!”

Dread washed over you. You closed your eyes. If a merciful god was going to kill you and rid you of this embarrassment, now would be the time. A bolt of lightning, perhaps. You’d even welcome decapitation.

You risked a glance when you felt your book being tugged carefully from your hands. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly open as he tried to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Gods, now he was going to leave camp. You buried your face in your hands. He was going to pack everything up and leave before the sun even touched the horizon. And you’d never see him again. Maybe you’d go find Cazador yourself, just to kill the bastard.

“All these drawings… are me? Darling?”

You inhaled deeply and lowered your hands, but you couldn’t bear looking at him. He could stab you with his dagger and you’d apologize to him for it all. Hell, you’d let him drink you dry if it meant leaving this all behind you. “You’re very pretty,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t know how to ask, and just- You can rip the pages out, burn them, whatever makes you feel better. And if you leave, I won’t blame you or chase after you or-”

“I’m not upset.” Your head never shot up so fast. “Well, a little. You’re not subtle when you stare, you know. I thought you were just uncomfortable being around a vampire, but this…” He turned back to the portrait you’d just finished. “This is really what I look like?”

You swallowed away a small portion of the shame. At least he wasn’t running away. “As best as I can capture you, anyway. Y-You’ve got these sharp eyes, and your hair curls around your ears, and you get little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you laugh - and I just like drawing you.”

The page flipped over again. The page of expressions, capturing everything you described. When he smiled full and bright his fangs were on full display, accented by the laugh lines on either side of his mouth. And the puncture wounds on his neck…

“Ah, so when I said you had a type…” He chuckled, but it didn’t hold as much warmth as usual.

“Your laugh does light up my world,” you admit. His red eyes were on you in an instant, flickering over your whole face. “Just, for the record.”

He glanced at the drawings once more, contemplative. Then, he held the book back out to you. “I wouldn’t be… opposed to trying this. Whatever this is.”

You reached out to take it, but he pulled it away. “But, no more sneaking glances across camp when you want to draw me. I would be delighted to model for you again, in any pose your sweet heart can concoct.” He held the book out again. “Deal?”

You grabbed onto the book, finally relaxing as you smiled. “Deal.”

---

Tag List:

@satelliteapotheosis @hypopxia @mjmygd @flsalazar @thedevilssinner @marina-and-the-memes @softempest @rebeccasship @pinkishredlemonade @faeoran

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff

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ahgasegotarmy116 · 1 month ago

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Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach.

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right.

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong.

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective.

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago.

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater Taglist continued in the reblogs 💜

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y13evie · 1 year ago

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Hi so I saw that you are open to write for house md and I'd like to ask for a chase fic. Like reader is house's kid and either works at the hospital too or gets admitted there but also knows chase and is in a relationship with him. Plot can be fluffy, smutty and/ or angsty I don't really care but I'd like to know how house would react if he sees them interact etc.

Idk if you see this or like the idea but I wish you the best and I really like your fics

hiiiiii anon!! i love this idea sm and i LOVE ROBERT CHASE WITH MY WHOLE HEARTT. dad house is so sweet and cutesy. i tried my best for u

tags: robert chase x houses kid! reader, one use of y/n, house is stubborn but loves u, just fluff

this is embarrassing. never in your twenty-five years of life would you imagine yourself in the hospital that both your father and boyfriend work at. yet here you are, with a 4 cm laceration on your right hand. the triage nurse had just sent you off and notified you that a doctor will be with you shortly. from your room window you could see dr foreman patting a familiar face on the back, probably saying something along the lines of “this case is yours bud”.

as soon as chase read the report he hurriedly rushed into your room. you shot him a sheepish grin and lifted up your hand to reveal the gash.

“my god, y/n”, he sat down next to you and took your hand gently into his gloved one and inspected the wound. he looked up at you, as if asking for an explanation.

“maybe i shouldn’t garden alone. i picked up this clay pot. the way it was sitting had been bothering me for a couple days now. i’m guess i’m not as strong as i thought i was because i dropped it and as it shattered, it cut me up pretty good.”

chase sighed at your stubbornness, something that had drawn him into you since early in your relationship. he took one of his gloves off and gently stroked your hair. he rambled on about how you should really be more careful and call him if you needed anything too laboring done. you weren’t listening. you were staring into those blue eyes. you weren’t into all that cheesy romance stuff but god, those eyes are stunning. your moment was quickly put to an end when harsh tapping could be heard from outside your window. you knew that sound from anywhere.

“you decided to be the one to doctor on MY kid”

house, or dad as you call him, hastily shuffles into your room and gives you both a judgemental look. robert rolls his eyes,

“foreman gave me the case first, i'm just doin’ my job”.

house hobbles over to check your vitals even though it’s a minor issue compared to what they deal with on a daily basis. you know your dad loves you and cares but he’s not the best at verbally expressing it. you knew he would probably just sit there and observe, so you turn back around to your extremely, worried boyfriend.

“soooo” you drag out the ‘oh’ sound, to show him you’re not worried. “whatcha doin after work handsome?”. chase runs a hand through his blonde hair and lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“i was planning to go on a cute and sweet date with you, but instead i’m gonna be dr. chase for another 12 hours”.

he sounded tired but you knew he was more than happy to care for his darling. just as you two were planning out your evening, your father and robert’s pagers began harmonizing. chase gives a quick but passionate kids to your temple. house makes his gag be known, sticking a finger in his mouth for dramatic effect.

your dad lingers in the room for a moment, giving your shoulder a squeeze. it’s still gonna take time for him to adjust to the fact his child is dating his co-worker. but you’re not his little baby anymore and he knows it.

when he heads out his parting words are,

“i’ll have someone stitch you up kid, stay put”.

you lean back in the bed and continue to add pressure to your wounded hand. a few minutes pass and your sweet boyfriend stops by again. and takes a seat at the stool beside your bed. he has the tools to stitch up your hand. to distract you from the pain, chase sparks a conversation.

“your old man..” he chews the inside of his cheek. you know exactly what he’s gonna ask. “does he like me? and not as a co-worker. does he think i’m a good fit for his kid?”. your heart sank at the thought of robert thinking he’s not enough. truth is, your dad did like him. though he would never admit it, the fact robert makes you happy, makes your dad happy. he’s real bad at showing it, but you know it’s true.

“he’s a grump, chase. he likes you. he might never admit it. but the fact he hasn’t beaten you to death with that cane of his really says something.”. you can tell your reassurance helped. you loved robert, and he loved you too. before you knew it the stitches were finished. he pulled out a sling from a cabinet so you won’t irritate the stitches too much.

“hey, i’ll get your discharge papers. we’ll have you out of here soon”.

chase pressed a kiss to your lips this time, and he stayed there for a minute. hand on your jaw to keep you steady. you moved your lips in unison, running your free hand through his hair. a sharp pain stabbed your hand and caused you to pulled away and gasp. he reminded you to take some pain medication once home.

before he headed out the door, robert whips around and sternly demands,

“i don’t ever wanna see you in here again.”

#house md x reader #house md #robert chase x reader #robert chase #robert chase x you #house m.d.#house m.d. x reader #reqs open #i love robert chase #he’s so baby girl i love him #this idea is so cute anon

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literaila · 9 months ago

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bad day

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).

warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#

a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)

last part | next part

year two.

satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long.

it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly).

but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze.

and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell.

but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong.

“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable.

his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences.

but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward.

“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked.

“what happened?”

if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks.

you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else.

anything you might usually do.

but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?”

“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you.

“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.”

“the kids say something?”

“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“

“what about you?”

“what about me?”

“you’re frowning.”

you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.”

but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong.

satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar.

“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.”

“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.”

“you didn’t sleep?”

“i did…”

“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie.

it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about.

it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core.

not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business.

and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.

“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you.

“why?”

you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out.

“what?”

“a little space. i just…”

“what?” his brows are furrowed.

“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”

the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.”

“i don’t want to talk.”

“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone.

“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“

“just tell me what happened.”

“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.”

“clearly, it’s not nothing.”

“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly.

“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“

“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?”

satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips.

and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing.

so he does.

you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that.

he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything.

and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh.

dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said.

you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her.

satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals.

and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear.

he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows.

his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong.

he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets.

satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink.

but he shuts the door behind him, waiting.

“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.”

satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.”

you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.

his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?”

“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.

satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.”

“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”

“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.”

you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?”

he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.”

you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin.

he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.”

“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.”

“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.”

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft.

and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits.

it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist.

“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.”

“wow. way to narrow it down.”

you pinch his leg.

he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy.

“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.”

satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline.

“he did?” he whispers, eventually.

“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”

“that’s… nice.”

you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”

satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.”

“you would only care about that.”

“hey, a free meal is no joke.”

“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”

“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.”

you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own.

“so, did he say why? something happen?”

“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.”

satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.”

you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?”

satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.”

“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.

“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it.

your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up.

but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…”

there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough.

but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.”

his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes.

satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know.

but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again.

you wipe the tear away as it comes.

he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.

but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.

satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say.

so angry that he's never been enough for this.

“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.”

“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.”

you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed.

“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes.

you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.”

“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.”

you shake your head. “you never do.”

satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers.

you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.”

he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead.

“i know.”

you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go.

he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know.

what would you do if the situations were reversed?

“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.”

“satoru…”

“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means.

“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.”

“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying.

you laugh.

satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.”

you push him away.

and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in.

“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains.

megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?”

satoru grins.

you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention.

just staring at you. for a different reason this time.

next part | series masterlist.

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojō x reader #a typical family

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midnight-bay-if · 1 month ago

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Hey, hey!!😊

Quick ask, what would ROs do if they saw someone hitting Mc? (I feel like I'm going to see the chaos that the ROs are going to create, pure fun 😎)

Bye, bye!!

(Oh, dear... Yep, you'll unleash the beast with an ask such as this. The beast being all of the ROs because all of them are capable of being monsters if pressed, haha.)

S: S watches you from a distance, as they so often do when they are around you. It isn't on purpose. Their eyes are naturally drawn to you when their mind begins to wander. But what they wander to this time is less pleasant. They don't know who it is with you, but it is obvious the conversation isn't going well. Then, they strike you across the face. It happens in moments, but it slows down for S.

In theory, S knows you can handle yourself well enough. The hit was sloppy with little technique; they have seen you take worse. Yet the indignity of it all only makes them feel... angry.

"You do attract some odd sorts, MC," S says, stepping between you and the assailant, arms crossed with muscles flexed. "Now even rodents are vying for your attention."

The stranger steps forward momentarily, blind rage cutting through common sense before reason again takes hold. They weigh their chances against the two of you before quickly scuttling away with their head dipped low.

"I could have handled that, S."

S turns back to you with a soft smile. "I know. That was for me." S reaches out and gently caresses the area that was struck. "Let's find something cold for the swelling. Then you can tell me all about how you managed to anger the pest."

Rain: Rain's been a little distracted by their surroundings. They still have much to learn about the human world, which can be a lot to take in. So, they don't realise they have been gradually wandering further and further away from you; not until they turn around to ask you a question, and you aren't there. They are momentarily confused until they spot you a little away being confronted by someone who looks especially angry.

The man leers into your space before reaching out to slap you across the face. It shocks them. The blatant violence against you is harrowing and difficult to believe despite it staring them right in the face.

Rain sprints to close the distance, setting themselves between you and the attacker with a face of fury reserved for only the worst of creatures.

"Back off. Now."

The man scoffs, clearly not very impressed. "This has nothing to do with you. This is between me and them."

"Wrong." Rain pulls out an official-looking badge that denotes them as a government employee. "I suggest you walk away before this becomes my problem further."

The man tuts, shakes his head, then turns on his heel with a quick step.

"I had that handled, Rain."

Rain sighs. Then turns to you and shrugs. "At least he's gone now. Let's get some ice for that cheek, shall we?"

Taj: Taj has zoned out. Sometimes, they have to do it in public to stop themselves from feeling suffocated by the people around them, which gets them in trouble a lot. S can be whittling away battle plans on the fly and will quiz them once finished, only to find Taj had stopped paying attention about halfway through.

So, it isn't immediately apparent to them that you have begun to draw back. But they do not step too far away before their ears twitch, alerting them to a change in surroundings. They turn back, expecting you to already be rushing to catch up, but instead see you waylaid by a furious man shouting spittle in your face.

Taj is already rushing back in your direction when they see the closed fist contact your cheek. A burning heat engulfs the pit of their stomach, and their vision hazes red as Taj pounces onto your assailant, forcing them to their floor as their fists and claws start going wild.

"How dare you?! You filthy little--"

You have to drag them away. It isn't pretty. The man's face is bleeding from multiple lacerations, terror in his eyes as he crawls to his feet and dashes down the street.

Taj is breathing heavily, their skin burning hotter than usual. They feel tiny lumps of skin collected under their fingernails from where they dug them into the human's face. It was wild, untamed. They want to keep going.

"Taj?"

Taj inhales sharply, closing their eyes as they count to ten in their head. 0ne, two, three...

They feel your hand on their arm and open their eyes again.

"Are you... all right?" Taj finally says. "Are you hurt?" A warm hand encompasses your cheek with much more gentleness than they showed the man.

"We need to go. Now," you command, tugging on their sleeve. "Hopefully S will know how to fix this."

N: It is common for N to fill the silence with the sound of their own voice. They have a lot to say, and their voice is lovely by the way. So, when you are wandering the street, and N is gesturing wildly as they recount the tale of their day, they don't immediately notice you lagging behind. "And that is when I said, 'Nice try. Next time try using your actual legs to--" They stop, eyebrows creased and turn towards you.

The instant they do, a resounding slap fills the space. Your head turns with it, but otherwise, nobody moves. N feels the Hael in them raging. The fire that keeps them tethered unleashes inside them, boiling their blood dangerously.

But they do their best to mask it, hiding behind an insidious grin.

"And who is this delightful individual, MC?" They ask, reaching out to grab the woman's hand before she can pull back, gripping it tightly. "You always make such interesting friends."

Sensing their darkness, you place a placating hand on their shoulder. "It's okay, N. I can handle this."

The woman senses it, too. N may be smiling, but there's no amusement there. She's scared; all previous bravado has wilted to nothing. So, N lets her go.

"Scuttle away now, my dear," they say, waving their hand away as if dismissing a servant. "Before my hand slips."

The woman does as she is bid in record time, and N's smile slowly twists to a snarl. "Wretched cur."

"It's fine. I'm fine. Let's just drop it."

N inhales deeply, the hatred still burning. Then, they firmly plant a smile back on their face. "Of course, my dear. Let us go about our day together, unspoiled. You should probably get that face seen to. We can't allow your perfect features to become marked, can we?"

Strangely enough, you don't bump into the woman again on your usual morning routes. It's almost as if she has vanished entirely from Albach Bay.

Umbra: Umbra spent some time away from you today. They are getting better at it. Their instinct is still to remain close, watchful, a silent sentinel destined to guard you. But they have since learned that it can be unhealthy to have such a strong attachment to a living person—unhealthy for the recipient and harmful for the provider. It's not something they particularly understand, but they want to learn—for you.

But now they are keen to return to your side. It's been two hours, after all. That's more than enough time for something dreadful to have happened. They need to see you. To see you safe.

They round a corner, their face lighting up when their eyes catch you. The other person with you barely gets a second glance. Until that person lifts a hand to you, anyway. Then, Umbra is instilling that face into memory. Within moments, a cloud of black smoke disappears and reappears beside the assailant, a black dagger curled beneath his throat, pressing against the skin.

Black smoke pillows out of Umbra's eyes, the typical whites of their eyes pitch black. Within a breath, a dagger is pressed close to the man's throat, nicking at the skin.

"How dare you?!" The voice is raspy, much lower than Umbra's usual tone, and joined by a myriad of dissonant whispers.

You reach out, grasping Umbra's arm to stop them. "No, Umbra! Don't!"

Your voice cuts through the fog, the black in their eyes returning white as they turn to you. "But this man--"

"Does not deserve to die!"

Umbra feels your anger and disappointment in them. It cuts deeper than any dagger could. But they do not know how to differentiate between those who hurt you and those who should die for it.

Umbra drops the knife from the man's neck, stepping away to let him run. And run, he does. Umbra watches a moment longer, allowing the man to shriek and holler far into the distance.

"We should go. Now. Hopefully S can fix this."

Umbra follows, their dagger arm still itching.

(I may have gotten slightly carried away again. Why do I do this? lol)

#ask answer #taj #umbra knight #nazu raumon #naera raumon #rain #simon selby #simone selby #interactive fiction

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lelengerine · 7 months ago

Text

now playing... "distractions"

pairing | student part timer!jaemin x student!reader

synopsis | a single cup of coffee actually has you waiting for more.

genre | more 3am fluff thoughts, y/n has down bad syndrome, mentions of food, no specific prns are used (lmk if i missed anything!)

wc | 0.9k

notes | here’s a little something for my bday while my other jaem fic is still in progress <3 i also have a recent addiction to writing down bad!reader rn so… that explains this a lot 😄 likes and feedbacks are always appreciated!

m.list

you sit at the corner table of the quaint cafe near campus, an array of colorful textbooks splayed open in front of you, but your attention keeps drifting away from your studies, and you think you can pinpoint the exact reason why.

na jaemin, a face you’ve seen bearing smiles more often than not from behind the register as he takes down your regular order of coffee during your visits. the two of you shared a couple of classes together, but neither of you have actually tried striking up a conversation with the other — instead, sticking to the comfort of your respective friend groups.

you were never distracted in class because of him. you never even looked his way once! okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but your point still stands…

today, however, everything seems different. each time he passes by your table to distribute orders, your gaze turns almost against your own will, mesmerized by the effortless charm he exudes and his gentle movements as he serves drinks for other patrons with the brightest smile on his face.

this was exactly why you couldn’t get anything done, god!

“come on, focus,” you chide yourself internally, patting your face a couple of times as you try shaking off the allure of your classmate, but every time you finally to return to your textbooks, you see jaemin smiling at you from the corner of your eye, and suddenly all your efforts go poof in an instant with the sound effects and all.

frankly, the lack of progress you've made has begun to bother you more than you care to admit. you can’t afford to slack off like this today, not when you have a final exam coming up that’s worth 80% of your entire grade, and so you do what any other person would — pack your books up in defeat and prepare to return home in hopes of focusing better — but jaemin has other plans in mind as he approaches your table with a small coffee cup in hand, a poorly drawn smiley face doodled onto its side.

“y/n, right?” he says with a playful grin, “i couldn't help but notice you've been here a while. thought you might need a little pick-me-up for your study session.”

you look up in surprise, not expecting him to address you directly — this was the first time the two of you were speaking to each other, after all. a rush of excitement floods your senses, and for a moment, you're at a loss for words. “oh, thank you jaemin,” you manage to sputter out despite your puzzled state, a faint surge of heat creeping onto your cheeks. “did i… look that tired for you to offer me this?”

jaemin’s chuckles at your words, eyes sparkling. “maybe, but a part of me just wished for you to stay here longer.”

he noticed you were getting ready to leave? moreover, he noticed and decided to make you a cup of coffee on the house?

you take the drink from him, feeling a tinge of elation at his cheeky answer. “you must like having me around then.” you reply teasingly.

“i could say the same about you with the amount of times i've caught you staring.” jaemin replies with a raised brow, crossing his arms together and pretending as if you were in big trouble. no way did he catch you... you made sure to be lowkey and everything!

you gawk at his response before mimicking his accusatory stance, “then... that means you were staring back to catch me stealing glances in the first place. you aren’t as innocent as you think you are.”

“caught me all red-handed.” he raises his hands in the air but he doesn’t hold an ounce of shame, a feathery chuckle escaping him. “you don’t usually leave this early though, what’s the rush today?”

“i can’t concentrate on my notes because of a certain someone.” you huff in faux frustration, hoping he’d take the jest.

“really now?” jaemin laughs, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, his voice tinged with teasing amusement. “if that’s the case, wait for me after my shift, it ends in around ten minutes anyways.”

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his suggestion. “why should i?” you question out, trying to maintain a casual tone despite the flutter of intrigue in your chest. “so you can distract me even more?”

his grin only grows wider after hearing you admit to how you’ve been so affected by him today, “so i can explain the topics to you, silly. you’re studying for the statistics exam, right?”

your eyes widen in surprise, caught off guard by his astute observation. “how do you—”

“we share the class, remember?” he interrupts, his confidence evident as he leans in, voice low and enticing. “so, what do you say?”

you hesitate for a moment, the thought of spending more time with jaemin felt both thrilling and nerve-wracking because you're not sure whether you’d pay attention- correction, you’re not sure if you’d pay attention to your studies, or forget it all once more to admire his features, but ultimately, the prospect of getting help with your studies outweighs the reservations you harbor against it.

“right… okay then. i’ll wait.” you finally agree, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watch jaemin’s expression light up in response.

“good, i’ll be back quick!” he exclaims, though his feet fail his words as he hasn’t even taken a single step back yet.

“dummy, go back behind the counter before your manager tells you off!” you reply with a quiet snort, and he rushes back to his position as per your command.

guess you have a reason to stay here for a bit longer now.

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year ago

Note

Hey 🤭

I have a really dirty JJ request 🤭🤭🤭

Dom!JJ x sub!f reader

With a corruption kink, reader being younger and “innocent” but eager to please lmao

JJ wearing a strap-on, rough sex, degradation (some consensual slut shaming) and praise kinks and reader calling JJ ma’am/mistress/mommy (your choice) ❤️

Aim To Please

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 7.1k+

Summary: JJ was in a really bad mood and everything around her just seemed to fuel that fire. So, when you said you wanted to help with it, you didn't expect the request she made.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics; dom!JJ, sub!r; oral (r giving); face-fucking; oral on a strap (r giving); strap-on (r receiving); rough sex; mommy kink; corruption kink; degradation; praise; cum eating; name calling; light spanking... let me know if I forgot something there was a lot going on in this fic

A/N: As you can tell... I'm bad at summaries but I think I got every one of your requests in there lol

Today was not her day. Everything was angering her. She was dealing with a stack of paperwork to close up a case that just pissed her off in general.

To top all of that off, she was running on way too little sleep. Her attempt to get good coffee was thwarted by a line that would’ve made her late. There were way too many people trying to reach her for things that, frankly, weren’t her problem right now. Even when the hours she had planned to be in her office at the BAU ended she still wasn’t done with the massive pile of paperwork she had.

While she should be off work, instead she came straight home just to go into her personal office and keep working. At least the kids were with Will this week, that way she had some quiet and no distractions from all the work she still had left. It was really putting her in a bad mood that she couldn’t just kick back and relax like she wanted to.

Her bad mood only soured more when she realized she had messed up and left the hard drive she needed to work from home in her office. She really did not want to take any more of her evening to run back out and get it. But could she afford to put all of this paper work off? No, she really couldn’t. Then, not only would it eat into her evening off, but it would take up even more evenings she desperately needed for herself. The fact that she had no way to relax right now or let off some of this steam from her bad mood was making her even more frustrated with herself.

There had to be some solution that wouldn’t lose her too much time. She sat back on her chair, her hands covering her eyes as she tried to push past her frustration and brainstorm solutions. Her mind was too fixated on the day for her to think very clearly, but then she remembered the biggest cause of her bad mood and why she was so easily irritated by everything. Finally, an idea came to her.

Her hand reached for her phone on the desk and she immediately sent out a text.

You were two seconds away from heading out of the BAU yourself when you got her message. “Bring me my hard drive in the top drawer” was the first message you received from JJ. The second was her address. There was no please, there were no other details. She didn’t indicate that you could wait and give it to her later or that she cared that it was time for your work day to end. It was implied that you needed to go to her place now. You groaned when you saw the message. Today was long and you had plans. Looks like you’d have to postpone.

JJ didn’t even feel bad about the demanding text she sent. You were an intern after all, it was your job to be available for the team. It was in the job description, you should expect it. Plus, you were the cause of half of her frustration today. Even though there were other interns, she specifically chose you for that reason.

See the thing is, you drove her a little bit crazy. When you started at the BAU she was instantly drawn to you. Your smile was so contagious and the way you happily helped with JJ and others on the team was endearing to her. You were just so eager to be part of the BAU, even if you were just another intern. The way you starkly contrasted the nature of the work the team saw every day with your bright and bubbly personality was a breath of fresh air. JJ loved the way you seemed so innocent. Soon into your internship, all she could think about was taking that innocent spirit of yours all for herself.

She thought you were aware of this wanting. In all honesty, she wasn’t exactly subtle with the way she looked at you all day every single day you two worked together. She thought you noticed the way she practically undressed you with her eyes. The obliviousness you showed towards it, in her mind, had to be an act. Part of a little game of cat and mouse that you two played. Apparently, after today, she was wrong.

There were definitely some interns JJ didn’t care for. One of them was a cocky young man who was way too self-centered and charming. No doubt he got this internship at the BAU with the money his daddy had. What earned him negative points in JJ’s book was the way he flirted with everyone else. If one girl rejected him, he’d brush it off and move onto the next. He’d do that even if a girl didn’t reject him too. JJ was worried about the day he decided to pursue you too and apparently just had to be today.

She really thought you’d tell him off or tell her to tell him off. Why she thought that, she wasn’t sure. It was very much not in your kind nature. But the thing is, JJ thought you two had an understanding that the only person to openly flirt with you in the BAU was her. Now, she realized you didn’t even know she was flirting and to make things worse, if you knew this man was flirting, you didn’t seem to care.

He followed you around like a damn puppy. JJ thought the same display of innocence in your face was what was really drawing him in. You didn’t fawn over him like the other girls did and you didn’t flat out reject him like the ones who saw through his motives. Instead, you were just friendly to him and it pissed her off.

At the end of the day, the way he kept pushing his luck was infuriating. What really put JJ over the edge was the conversation she overheard. He asked you if you wanted to get drinks after work and you cluelessly said yes. That was it, JJ thought, that was the last hope she had of you avoiding his charm. Drinks would surely lead to more, at least JJ thought so. After hearing you say yes, nothing was going to save her shitty mood. She only fumed more when she couldn’t take the rest of the evening to drink a glass (or maybe three) of wine and try to forget that she let the opportunity to have you in her arms instead of his slip away.

But then, when she sat down and realized her hard drive was missing, it was the perfect excuse to thwart that man’s plans. Maybe it didn’t cancel your plans; she could imagine you asking him to wait just a little longer before meeting with drinks, but at least she delayed it. As JJ sat back on her desk chair and waited for you to arrive, she thought maybe she could find a few other ways to keep your little date postponed. If she was lucky, she could completely ruin your evening like you ruined hers. Even if you had no idea that you were responsible for that.

The knock came on her door in no time and JJ was honestly impressed for a moment by the speed in which you got there. A thought occurred to her a moment later, however, and her mood got even worse. You probably rushed over here so you had more time to meet for drinks with that asshole intern.

When she opened the door for you, she didn’t say much. She just gestured for you to follow her in as she basically stomped her way over to her office with you in tow. You were instantly anxious over the way she greeted you with such an unwelcoming attitude, but you followed her anyway. It would’ve been much easier to just hand her the USB and go, but you thought doing that would just piss her off more. Plus, you had a feeling this bad mood was from how overworked she seemed to be lately at the BAU. Obviously, she wasn’t happy that she was taking some of that work home with her. Maybe you could help, offer to look over whatever you were allowed to look over. You canceled your plans the minute you got the text from JJ, so it wasn’t like you had anything better to do.

“Um…” You shuffled awkwardly where you stood in the middle of JJ’s home office. You’ve never been in here, let alone her place in general. It would excite you to be here if she wasn’t practically fuming as she sat herself back down at her desk. “I’m sorry, you had to take your work home with you.”

“It is what it is,” she grumbled as she plugged the USB into her laptop and immediately started typing away.

“Can I help with any of it somehow?”

“I don’t know you possibly could.” Her tone was sharp and she didn’t even bother to look up at you. Originally, yes, she had the plan to keep you here longer and get your date postponed, but she was also still incredibly frustrated. The minute you walked through the door to her home she realized it wasn’t the way she wanted things to happen. She had the image in her mind that the first time you’d be here, she’d be pulling you through her halls while ripping your clothes off. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen now. So, instead, JJ just resorted to being downright harsh.

“Okay, well,” you sighed. “I guess I’ll get going then.”

“You do that,” JJ spit as she kept up her work. If you wanted to go be with that arrogant prick then so be it. Let him disappoint you the way you were disappointing her. If you just opened your eyes for a second, you’d realize JJ would treat you so much better than anyone else ever good. The thought that someone else would be doing the things that JJ was dying to do to you was just pissing her off more.

“I– JJ, did I do something?” You definitely sounded hurt. JJ would almost feel bad if she wasn’t already so far gone in her frustration.

“It’s what you didn’t do,” she said, her jaw visibly clenching as she kept typing.

“What I didn’t do?” You repeated in disbelief. “I offered to help! You’re the one not letting me!”

Not letting you? JJ wondered if you heard how ridiculous you sounded. Okay, maybe you were right, but that wasn’t the point. She fully blamed you for this bad mood now and everything you were doing was the exact opposite of helping. How could you possibly not realize that? Her want for you was causing her to lose her temper and it shouldn’t be like that. At least that’s what JJ thought. Maybe you were really as innocent as you appeared to be, but JJ had been throwing you big hints. You never picked up on any of them, never initiated a single thing that told JJ it was finally okay to make her move, yet you say okay to drink with a man that clearly wanted in your pants? And even then you have the audacity to ask how you can help her? No, no, you were being ridiculous, not JJ. She thought losing control of her temper and jealousy was entirely valid at this point.

“You want to help so fucking badly?” JJ finally looked up from her computer. Her eyes were burning with rage and all you could do was stand there, so confused as to why you seemed to be fueling this fire.

“Yes!” You were desperate now. “Yes, I’m just trying to do a good job here,” you cried. “I don’t know why you’re so angry. I don’t know what it was that I apparently didn’t do. What do you want from me?”

“God,” JJ growled. “If you’d just shut up and get on your fucking knees we wouldn’t be having this problem.” She said that without thinking. Honestly, she really did. It was a mixture of the anger she was feeling and the pent up want she had for you. The minute those words were out of her mouth the whole room went still.

Your eyes widened at what she said. JJ’s body froze. She didn’t let her face show the shock she felt for letting that slip. It didn’t even mean to come out, and her jaw clenched as she waited for you to react.

JJ expected you to do one of two things: Yell and throw much deserved accusations her way or run like hell out of her house and report her ass. Either way, she could practically picture the long HR conversation she was bound to have this week. Except, you didn’t do either of the things she was expecting. In fact, you didn’t do anything at all for a moment. You just stood there and stared at her in utter shock.

Shit, JJ thought as she started to get up from her desk chair. You were still staring at her in disbelief and she could see the blush forming on your face. If she didn’t just royally fuck up the way she did, she would be enjoying the deer-caught-in-headlights look you were wearing. Obviously, you weren’t expecting her to say anything like that to you. Hell, she wasn’t expecting to say that tonight either. But what did intrigue her was, while you might be frozen in place, you still didn’t leave or even protest. No, instead you just looked a bit flushed and there was a gradual shift from shock to something else in your eyes. It was wishful thinking on JJ’s part that the look in your eye could mean interest. Or maybe, if JJ was the type of woman who took bets, it could even be a look of arousal.

The worst part was, she would’ve won that bet, because you definitely were aroused the instant those words left her lips. You shifted where you stood, not that JJ noticed when her eyes were too busy reading your own. The heat in your cheeks she did notice though. It was only getting worse the longer you stood there and let her gawk at you. Her eyebrow arched when she did, indeed, pick up on the fact that your reaction perhaps wasn’t all that negative.

She was waiting for you to do something now. Still unsure of how you felt about her outburst. The problem was, there wasn’t much you could think to do. Was she serious? The fact that you almost did exactly what you were asked immediately made you a bit embarrassed, but what if that’s really what she wanted? You said you wanted to help and if that was her request... Maybe you really should fulfill it.

Your eyes shifted to the floor for a minute and then back up at her. JJ’s expression still hadn’t changed from the quizzical one that replaced her anger. She was waiting for you to act. And as she saw your eyes flick to the floor before looking back at her, you saw even more of a change in her expression. It was miniscule to anyone else, but you personally spent a lot of time staring at JJ and her eyes, so you didn’t miss the shift in them. Blue eyes looked back at you with pupils blown until they were almost completely black. That small detail in and of itself is what told you she was dead serious. It was also all it took to make your mind up.

“Okay.” You said it with a confidence you didn’t even know you had.

“Okay?” JJ’s head tilted to the side. That was another unexpected response from you. She kind of thought the reason you were still here was to discuss this. She had the feeling you’d be the type to talk out your feelings for each other before just falling into bed with her. But in that very moment, you proved her completely wrong.

“Okay,” you repeated and got on your knees. JJ shot around her desk so fast when she saw you do that. There was no way she was missing a moment of this the second she realized you actually were getting on your knees for her.

“Wow,” JJ breathed as she stopped right in front of you. She had pictured this exact scenario countless times, but it still didn’t prepare her for just how amazing you looked on your knees. The way you looked up at her with such innocent eyes was replacing the last tendrils of rage in her body with white hot desire instead. There were so many things she thought about doing to you at that moment. “You look so pretty like that.”

You shifted your gaze to the floor as your face flushed, but JJ’s hand came up to cup your chin and pull you back up to look at her.

“Don’t look away from me,” she ordered. Her tone wasn’t harsh though. Not yet at least, not when she was still fairly certain you would be one who’s easily scared off. Although, so far you’ve been reacting in the exact opposite way than she’s expected.

“I’m only going to say this once,” she started as her thumb ran gently over your bottom lip. “You have an out right now, if you don’t want to do this then this is your one and only chance to get up and leave. But if you stay, then you’re going to do everything I tell you to.”

Her thumb still traced your bottom lip as you soaked in exactly what she was asking of you. You knew that was her way of warning you that tonight was going to be a very different experience than anything and anyone you’ve encountered in your past romantic history. The idea of that only thrilled you more.

“I’m staying,” you mumbled. “I’ll do anything you want.”

JJ’s smirk at your answer looked downright devilish and caused a shiver to run down your spine. “Good,” she hummed. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Her thumb pressed down on your lip until you were forced to part them. “First, I’m going to use that pretty mouth of yours.” JJ’s thumb pressed harder until your lips fell open even more and you willingly took it into your mouth. She immediately bit her lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of running the pad of her thumb against your tongue. When she dragged it back out of your mouth, she gave a satisfied hum at the way you seemed disappointed by the loss of contact. You were already being so good for her and she didn’t even really have to ask yet.

When JJ’s hands fell from you and to the buckle of her belt, that’s when you started to feel a little nervous. Things were getting real, but still you didn’t want to back out. You just didn’t know and definitely weren’t prepared for the intensity JJ had in store for you.

When her belt was undone and her button popped open from her pants, she grabbed you by your hair and pulled you until you were forced to brace yourself on her thighs. She didn’t react to the wince she caused when her grip tightened and your hands frantically grasped at her. “Do you know what to do or am I going to have to show you?” she asked in a threatening tone. This was certainly a new, darker side of JJ. One that you honestly didn’t see coming, but still you weren’t complaining.

You shook your head and tried to readjust on your knees so that you weren’t practically falling over on her anymore. You could do this for her; you could figure it out. If you didn’t know how, JJ was determined to make you learn.

Your hands moved up her thighs and tugged down at her pants and underwear, just enough to give you access to her pussy. She was already so wet, just from the sight of you on your knees and the anticipation of feeling your tongue inside her drove her wild. Part of her thought she should savor this moment, but a large part of her desperately needed to see your face wrecked and covered in her cum. That part won out.

Again, she tugged on your hair until you were closer to her. You stopped with your face right in between her legs. She looked down at you expectantly and you knew that you needed to get rid of all your hesitation once and for all, so you tried your best to. Your tongue peaked out from your lips and started a slow, long lick over her clit. That alone had JJ shuddering above you and clenching the fist that currently had a strong hold on your head. Loving the reactions you were eliciting from her, you repeated the action once, twice and then more until you set a steady pace of lapping at her pussy while her body twitched above you.

But it wasn’t enough for her. She needed to claim you and she needed it now. “Stick out your tongue,” JJ ordered as she pulled your head back for just a second to make sure you were listening. “I’m going to fuck your face.” She didn’t even wait for a response before pulling you back in.

This time your hands flew back to her thighs so you could brace yourself again as you did exactly what JJ asked and let her run her entire pussy over your tongue. She wasn’t going slow either. The way she felt your tongue run over her clit and her entrance was enough for her to already lose control of her actions. She had this idea, originally, that she would pace herself with you. Her goal was always to be rough with you, but she wanted to ease you into it. She wanted to slowly take away your innocence, not fuck your face right off the bat. But then, she was feeling possessive and that anger still felt like it had her all twisted and pent up, not to mention the fact that just being around you and not getting to fuck you yet was already a build up on it’s own for her. Taking it slow was just not something she had the patience for anymore. She needed to cum and she needed you to help her with that.

To add to how much JJ was enjoying this, she didn’t miss the way you were squeezing your legs together underneath her. With each grind of her hips against your face, she saw the way you shifted and tried to get some relief for the ache you were surely feeling. It was going to be so easy to turn you into a mess beneath her if you were already struggling and she hadn’t even touched you yet.

“I knew this was what you wanted,” JJ groaned when she heard you moaning into her pussy. “You wanted me to fuck you since the moment we met. Isn’t that right?”

All you could do was hum as JJ’s hips moved even harder. She was holding your head in place with a painfully tight grip as she ground into your mouth even harder. The way she was panting and groaning had you so wet, you were sure your panties were beyond ruined.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” JJ’s voice was winded as she spoke now and you could tell from the way her hips rocked into your face with a more erratic rhythm that she was getting close. “I’ve wanted to ruin you since the moment we met too.”

She threw her head back after that and kept you tightly pressed to her pussy. It was hard for you to breathe through all of it, but she didn’t care. Instead of letting you get any sort of air, she forced you to press your tongue to her clit as she finally came with a satisfied moan.

When she pulled your head back finally, you gulped down air. JJ took a few deep breaths herself and her legs trembled ever so slightly from the way you made her cum. Her hands finally let go of your head and she took a step back, only for you to fall forward, catching yourself quickly on your hands. She looked down at you when she heard you huff as you caught yourself. You were on all fours and you looked like an absolute mess. Her cum was smeared over your mouth and chin and you were still trying to catch your breath from it. That image gave her an idea of exactly what she wanted to do next.

“Get up.” JJ didn’t even care that you were still struggling to regain your composure. “And follow me.”

“O-okay,” you panted as you tried to get back up and off your now sore knees. JJ was already out the door of her home office before you really could gain your balance. You scrambled to catch up, following her down the hall until you reached what you easily guessed was her bedroom.

You honestly felt lucky that you were being allowed to enter Jennifer Jareau’s bedroom. Never in your wildest dreams did you think it would happen. That didn’t stop you from daydreaming about it, but you really had no idea that the whole time JJ stared at you, she was secretly thinking about all the ways she could fuck you. You kind of thought all her staring meant she didn’t like you. She didn’t exactly smile at you when you caught her looking. Instead, she always wore what you thought was a very serious gaze. It’s only now that you realized it was a gaze of hunger for you rather than anger towards you.

“Strip.” JJ’s order shook you from your thoughts and your eyes snapped to where she had gone. She was in the corner of her room, digging around in the bottom drawer of her dresser.

You did exactly as you were told, but kept your eyes on JJ. Whatever she was digging for, you didn’t know, but you were incredibly curious about it. Still, you continued to pull off your clothes as you waited for her. The fact that, after you pulled the last piece of clothing from your body and now you were bare naked in her bedroom while she was fully clothed, made you nervous again. Hopefully soon JJ would let you take her clothes off, but something told you that if you asked, you’d be breaking JJ’s wishes for you to be obedient. She was in control after all, and it seemed very clear to you that she didn’t want that challenged.

But then she turned around and the thing you saw dangling in her hand had your jaw drop.

“JJ I haven’t– I’ve never done that before,” you stuttered. Resting in JJ’s hand was the straps to a harness and a decently sized dildo. Fingers, you’ve experienced, but you definitely haven’t had anything more than two and the size of the toy in her hand definitely seemed bigger and longer than that.

She didn’t even seem phased by your trepidation. She just started to, thankfully, pull off her own clothes. You waited for any kind of response for her. But as she finished undressing and started to pull on the harness and situate the toy, you realized you weren’t going to get an answer.

“JJ–”

She held up a hand to cut you off when the straps were tightened just right around her hips. “You’ll be fine,” she said as she took a few steps towards you.

“But I haven’t–”

“Was today the first time anyone’s fucked your face?” Your eyes went wide at the bluntness of the question, but still you nodded hesitantly. “You did fine with that,” she said. “You’ll take this.” That last comment sounded more like a promise than words of comfort. You gulped hard when JJ stopped in front of you.

Her arms slipped around your waist and for a minute her touch was gentle. It was reassuring and just enough to let you stop worrying about what JJ was expecting of you. Her hands traced along the bare skin of your back as she leaned into you and finally, for the first time that night, her lips met yours. The kiss was slow; gentle even. It was her way of lulling you into a sense of agreement with her that you’d be just fine taking the toy that was currently strapped to her hips.

You kissed her back, quickly parting your lips for her to run her tongue along your own. But the moment her tongue made contact with yours, that switch flipped back on and she was back to being impatient. With her arms around you, she pulled you so your bare body was flush against hers. The way you felt the cold silicon of her strap-on hit your thigh made you jump, but you didn’t have much time to react as JJ took one of your lips in between her teeth and pulled.

When JJ released your lip, her hands moved to your hips and turned you around. Lips fell on your neck where she began to lick and suck at the sensitive skin there. You couldn’t stop the way your breath hitched when you felt her teeth sink down particularly hard on a very visible part of your neck. Eventually, your legs hit the edge of the bed and JJ finally let go of you only to give you a hard shove down. You fell down onto the mattress with a thud and JJ climbed onto the bed and knelt above you. When you looked back up the head of her strap was right in your face. It looked bigger this way and you were nervous all over again.

“JJ, it looks really… big.”

“Don’t think about that,” JJ said as she knelt before you. Her hand fell back to the top of your head, this time grabbing a handful of your hair but not as hard. “Either way, you’re going to be a good girl and take it for me. I suggest you start sucking on it first.”

“What?!” She really was trying to give you a handful of firsts in one evening. If you hadn’t ever taken a strap before, you most certainly haven’t given one head.

“You’re probably wet enough,” she started as she urged your head forward, “but this will get it wet and help you take it even better.”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between it and her, but eventually you decided to pluck up some courage and do what you were told. After all, she said she wanted you to be good and you desperately wanted to please her. Your lips wrapped around the head of JJ’s silicon cock and slowly you took it into your mouth. Above you, you heard JJ take in a sharp breath. Her fist flexed on your head, but she didn’t dare push you. Her goal wasn’t to fuck your face with it like she did just moments ago. This genuinely was her way of trying to get you used to it and make it a little easier for you to take. Sure, she could’ve used lube. She had a tube of it in her dresser specifically for you because she thought you’d need it. But then, she wanted to keep corrupting you and what better way to ruin your innocent little image than making you suck her cock.

When you took most of it into your mouth and looked up at her, that’s when JJ really started to struggle. Her hips moved on their own, rolling forward slightly, but still it was just enough for you to back up. Immediately, her hand combed through your hair and she cooed at you, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay,” as she encouraged you to take it into your mouth again. You did and she gently and cautiously guided your head to bob up and down on it just a little bit longer. But still that feeling of her control was slipping and the fact that you had your lips wrapped around her strap with her cum still on your face was really making it so hard to keep her cool.

After another minute of it, she pulled you off of it. “Good,” she praised breathlessly. “You did so good for mommy.”

The name stopped you both. It slipped out just like before. She really didn’t mean to say it, much like she didn’t mean to say what kickstarted all of this. Just like that instance, though, your reaction wasn’t what she expected. You just looked up at her, face flushed and messy, but pride shining in your eyes. So… you liked the idea of calling her mommy then. That was an interesting little perk that boosted the power trip JJ was already running on.

“Now what?” You asked with such innocence. How you could totally gain back that look of pure wonder and eagerness after just having her pussy and her strap in your mouth? JJ would never understand how you could do it. But still you were looking up at her from where you sat, naked on her bed, and waiting for more orders.

“Now,” JJ said as she backed up a little on the bed, “you’re going to get on all fours and take my cock like the good little slut I know deep down you’re dying to be.”

The language she was using really got a rise out of you. Never had someone spoken to you like that and you didn’t realize how wet it made you. You were also so fucking obvious. JJ could tell that it turned you on to be treated like this and spoken to like you were nothing but her little toy. That’s kind of what you were to her now, whether you realized it yet. She finally had you in her grasp and she was going to fuck you until you were on the brink of breaking. It wasn’t even just about fucking you. No, she was going to claim you and ruin you like she promised. With the way she was going to fuck you, she was going to make sure you were ruined for anyone else. Just hers, that’s how it should always be. She’d make sure you knew that after tonight you were just hers.

JJ didn’t wait for you to move before she had a hold of your hips and started to flip you around. You immediately found yourself on your hands and knees again, which meant you couldn’t see what she was doing with the strap as she knelt on the bed and positioned herself. That made it both frightening and exciting, but you were so fucking wet you could feel it on your thighs. At this point, you didn’t care how big it looked, you just needed JJ to finally be inside you.

When she pushed the head of her cock into you, you weren’t immediately prepared for the burn of her stretching your pussy out. Your head fell back and your fists clenched the blankets on the mattress until they turned white as JJ bottomed out inside you. The echo of JJ’s low, guttural moan filled the room as she watched her cock stretch and disappear inside you. She started slow, pulling out almost all the way before easing it back in. You were already making such pretty noises for her. With each time her hips ground just a little into you when they were flush with your ass and her cock was all the way in, you’d let out a small whine. Eventually, you were getting used to the way you felt your pussy being stretched and when JJ started to pick up the pace, you met her thrusts with your own, trying to fuck yourself on your cock.

“Doing so good, baby,” JJ groaned as her hands gripped your hips and kept you steady. “Taking mommy’s cock so fucking good.”

You just whimpered at that and kept trying to fuck yourself against her cock. JJ was getting faster now, but still holding back as much as she could so you could adjust a little more to this new sensation. She wanted to ruin your pussy, but she didn’t actually want to break you… Just get you close to that point. When your moans got louder and JJ could see your wetness dripping down your thighs, however, she decided you were adjusted enough.

Suddenly, JJ used all her strength to fuck her cock into you. Her thrusts were fast and hard and you cried out with the way it was hitting just the right spot inside you. She was really not holding back and soon your grip on the mattress slipped. That didn’t stop JJ, though. As you fell forward, her hand shot out to your hair. With your face already hitting the mattress and your ass up in the air for JJ to keep fucking your pussy from behind, she used this opportunity to bend over you and push your face even harder into the bed. Your cries were getting muffled by the mattress, but JJ didn’t really mind that. Not when she had you in this position. She never thought you could look so absolutely filthy when you were always so god damn innocent, but the way your legs were spread and your ass was pressing into her hips just made you look like an utter mess.

“Such a fucking whore for me,” JJ growled as she fucked you harder. One hand went from your hip to land a hard smack on your ass. All you did was let out a pitiful whine. You were trying your hardest to keep yourself in pace with JJ. The best you could do was grind back a little harder into her cock, but still it was enough to get you off even faster.

JJ could tell from the way you were crying out her name any time she pumped particularly hard into you that you were two seconds away from coming. She wanted you to cum all over her cock and just the thought of that made her go even faster. You were repeating her name in between moans until finally, when JJ’s hand met your ass for another smack, you came. With a loud cry, JJ watched as you released all over her cock. The moan she let out at the sight almost matched yours in volume and she decided she definitely wasn’t done with you.

Her strap left you for just a second. You hadn’t even come down from your orgasm or caught your breath before JJ flipped your body over until your back was on the mattress. She grabbed at your hips again and swiftly pulled you back down onto her cock. The way she put her entire body behind the power of her thrusts this time had you practically screaming. She was fucking you so hard and you already felt entirely too sensitive. The way your body shook and shuddered with each pump of her cock made JJ mesmerized. You really were taking her way better than she even expected.

Her lips crashed into yours and all you could was struggle to kiss her back as muffled moans were swallowed by her. Your hands flew to her back. Nails dug into her skin in a way that was sure to leave marks, but JJ didn’t care. She just needed to see you cum at least one more time for her.

And she got her wish. After two more hard pumps of her hips, she felt more than saw the way you fell apart on her strap yet again. Your back arched off the mattress as she pulled this second orgasm from you. You were forced to break the kiss just so you could turn your head into the bed as you came. When the orgasm finally ran through your body you collapsed back onto the mattress.

There was no way you could take anymore, at least for a little while. JJ knew that and, thankfully, pulled out after a moment. You didn’t move when she did, all you could manage to do was lay there and try to get your heart and breathing under control.

JJ moved to kneel between your legs. Her fingers reached out and ran over the wetness that was covering your thighs. You shivered slightly at the teasing touch, but still kept your head down on the mattress, too tired to move much. JJ took the finger that was covered in your cum and brought it to her lips. The satisfied moan she let out when she tasted you had your head pop back up to see what she was doing. Her eyes were closed as she slowly withdrew her finger from her own mouth.

You thought you were spent, you really did. And in a sense, you were. You even felt sore from how hard JJ had just fucked you, but still you found yourself getting wet all over again from that act.

“We’re not done yet,” JJ said as she licked her lips. “First, I’m going to get you some water and you’re going to take a minute to rest. Then we’re going to go again.”

“Again?!” You were lying if you said you didn’t want to, but also you couldn’t imagine how your body would hold up if she kept fucking you the way she was.

“You said you wanted to help…”

JJ didn’t wait to hear anymore of your protests. Honestly, you didn’t protest much after that. When JJ came back with your water, it took all of two seconds before she was on you again and again and again. By the end of the night you were so fucked out by her that she had to practically carry you to her shower. Even then, she dropped to her knees on the shower floor and ate you out like there was no tomorrow.

Despite being utterly ruined by JJ, you still felt a weird sense of pride. How many people can say they helped bring JJ out of one of her bad moods? You said you wanted to be helpful… And you certainly were.

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chloessleepystories · 1 year ago

Text

Rabbit Hole

Based on a true story

Zoe was slumped down in the back row of the classroom, scrolling through Tumblr on her phone instead of paying attention to the teacher. Like usual.

Oh, here’s a sexy picture to share. Here’s a gif to attach a few lines of dialogue to… She liked teasing the boys (and girls) online, and they liked teasing her. Especially when she was in class and couldn’t do anything about her rising horniness.

Oooh, a hypno story, her favorite. She checked that the teacher was droning on, and not looking her direction, and started reading. Just a couple paragraphs in, she knew it was a good one. She reblogged it to finish reading later, and to share it with her followers (her many, many followers… how had that happened?) and kept scrolling. Ooh! A spiral! Don’t get distracted… But uunnnfff, so easy to get distracted… to get drawn in…

She shook herself, sharing the spiral with a drooling smiley face, and moved on.

“I’m a little concerned, looking at your last batch of papers, that so many of you got to college without apparently learning how to punctuate a simple compound sentence, much less to fill it with original thoughts…” Miss Thompson was saying.

Zoe squeezed her thighs together, feeling the arousal spread through her body. She looked around. Nobody looking. Good. She knew she should be listening, should be taking notes, but all she could think about was her needy pussy.

The constant alerts from her phone kept drawing her back to the glowing rectangle in her hand. BUZZ. Another favorite blog had just shared something, Tumblr wanted her to know. BUZZ. Someone was tagging her in a pic of one of her favorite porn stars. BUZZ…

She was powerless. She had to look, every time the phone buzzed. Every time Tumblr fed her more. She didn’t used to be like this, did she? She used to have, like, an attention span and stuff? Could leave her phone alone for a few hours? Now she was addicted… like she had conditioned herself to salivate at the buzzer.

Or been conditioned, came a whisper.

Been brainwashed.

Cuntwashed.

Drippy cunt. Salivating pussy…

BUZZ.

Ooh! a hot little gif that someone wanted her to see – “wanna ride me like this?” he asked, adding Zoe’s handle. Where was the teacher? Zoe knew she should scan for Miss Thompson again, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

BUZZ BUZZ. Three more guys wanting to talk to her privately. She was already keeping four conversations going…

This one, for instance, was telling her, in detail, what he would be doing to her if they were in a hotel room together right now. She was giving as well as she was getting, egging him on, hoping he was stroking to her words the way she wished she could be rubbing to his. This one was begging her to punish him, and reveling in her attempts to be domineering. And this one… oh, this one kept sending spirals, and inductive texts, drawing her ever downward (or trying to), making her sleepy, making her horny… making her a mindnumbed cockslave…

She tapped the little pencil symbol to make a public post.

“You guys are making me so horny!!!” she typed.

I’m supposed to be paying attention to the teacher right now but my tumblr feed is full of porn and 3 of you fuckers are having hot conversations with me trying to make me horny and IT’S FUCKING WORKING I’m sure my neighbors can smell me I’m so turned on I can feel how drippy I am goddammit I need to stroke I’m not gonna make it

That was a mistake, of course. As she knew it would be. The sharks smelled blood in the water, and circled.

“Just keep watching little slave. Soon you’ll be my little cock hungry whore”

“It’s just so nice to be able to turn off your brain for a while, ya know? Join me?”

“And when I say “horny bunny” you’ll have a powerful urge…”

“Mmm damn what a view! Your nice tight pussy wrapped around my cock feels so damn good. I’m going to enjoy fucking you hard, bottoming out hitting your womb”

“…And then one day you wake up and you’re an empty headed pink bimbo, with no thoughts in your dumb bimbo head but getting bigger tits and pleasing your Mistress’s pussy…”

Another public post:

Ogod now ur all piling on cumming our of the woodwork why csnt i turn off this app why do i keep lookin im not gonna make it im such a dumb hotny cow

Sent.

And back to messaging, the words pummeling her brain –

Blank. Obedient. Responsive. Counting from 10. Letting your mind slide away. Relaxed. Empty. No thoughts. 8. Letting go….

Then, even before she could register the shadow over her desk, a hand snatched the phone from her fingers.

“You know the rules about phones in my class, Zoe,” said Miss Thompson. Zoe made a choked whimper, her fingers mindlessly twitching after the phone.

“You can get it back later. If you’re good.”

If you’re good. If you’re a good girl. Good girls obey.

Zoe whimpered again, as Miss Thompson walked away. She was going to have to sprint to the ladies’ room when class was over. The phone would have to wait. Her clit was throbbing… and she needed to obey.

*****

Later, after everyone had filed out, Miss Thompson carefully and (BUZZ) meticulously wiped clean the blackboard. She liked the board to be as neat (BUZZ) and tidy as her desk.

(BUZZ)

What on earth was – Oh. Right. That girl’s phone was still on the desk. Vibrating away, for some unknown reason.

She sat down and picked it up, turning it on. Silly child didn’t seem to have a lock on the –

A rainbow of porn leapt out of the screen and slapped Miss Thompson about the face.

Cocks going into young women’s mouths. A girl’s tongue on a pussy. “Zoe, are you still there?” Breasts, so many breasts. “Zoe, girl, look how hard you made me…” A maelstrom of dark and light flesh that she couldn’t make sense of for a moment, until she saw the caption “gangbanged fuckslut made airtight with BBC”… which, to be frank, didn’t ENTIRELY explain the picture to Miss Thompson, but it let her figure out what some of the shapes were…

Horrified, repulsed, Miss Thompson started scrolling. And couldn’t stop scrolling. Stories of incest and bondage. Lewd photos and gifs, scenes of decadence and degradation. She shook her head, her mouth open, but she couldn’t stop…

And the hypnosis. Over and over in the girl’s feed, the hypnosis! Glassy eyed girls with drooping mouths, baring their breasts… Women with spirals in their eyes, and cocks in their mouths… Flashing gifs with pictures and words, too fast to follow, telling her how she should be, how she must be, how she knew she already was, if she would just admit it to herself… Inductions, and fantasies, and more spirals, and submissive, drooling women, eager to serve cock, to serve pussy, to become slaves to their own needy cunts…

Miss Thompson hadn’t noticed how hard her nipples had gotten. She hadn’t noticed how wet her own cunt was, until she found herself dipping in a finger… She bucked against her hand, but didn’t stop stroking… just kept scrolling…

Someone calling himself Master of Mystery – except with some of the letters replaced by numbers – BUZZed into a private message. “Getting pretty horny, Zoe? Pretty needy and desperate?”

“No,” she found herself typing. “I mean, no, I’m – I’m not… No.”

“Oh, you certainly sounded pretty desperate to me. You sounded like a little slut who needed permission to cum… A naughty fucktoy who can’t stop touching her princess parts even though she’s not supposed to…”

Miss Thompson bit her lip and with an effort pulled her hand away from her pussy. “I’m not Zoe. I am Miss Thompson, her teacher,” she typed.

She tried to pull herself together.

“And you should keep a civil tongue in your head, young man.”

“Ohhh! Naughty, naughty, teacher… Are you looking through a confiscated phone? And getting TURNED ON by someone else’s Tumblr porn? You are, aren’t you… Go ahead, you can admit it…”

“i” she typed and sent by mistake.

She cursed.

“I will do no such thing. I am… I am putting the phone down now.”

“No you’re not.”

She hesitated. He seemed so sure. She waited, panting.

“You won’t, because you would have already without saying anything. You would have before you got so horny scrolling through her feed.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Because you are horny, aren’t you? All pent-up, tied up in knots…”

“Yes, yes, I am, OK, but there’s nothing wrong with that”

“No, not at all. Tell you what. You seem tense. Let me help you relax. Can we do that?”

“Um”

“Just focus on your shoulders for a second. Feel how tight they are? Tighten them up even more, just for a second. Take a deep breath in. And then let it out, and as you do, feel all the tension go out of your shoulders…”

“what”

“Sshh shh you don’t have to say anything just listen. I’m going to count, and with each number you’re going to release a little tension, and it’s going to turn into warmth… warmth spreading through your body…

“And then maybe we’ll look at a spiral together for a while… You’ll like that…”

*****

Zoe was feeling SO much better – though her legs were still a little wobbly – as she walked toward the classroom door. She couldn’t believe she’d left her phone behind! She hoped she could get it back quietly, without much fuss. There didn’t seem to be a class in there now. Maybe she could just slip in and grab it?

She eased the door open gently… and then almost dropped her backpack in surprise.

Miss Thompson was sprawled, nearly nude, in her wooden rolling chair! Her skirt was bunched around her middle, panties on the floor, white blouse and bra tangled on her desk. Most surprising of all, one hand was operating Zoe’s phone, and the other hand was operating Miss Thompson’s bushy cunt!

She stepped closer, sliding the backpack gently to the floor. The teacher’s breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy… and sure enough, Zoe could see a spiral on the glowing screen. She tiptoed close enough to read over her shoulder.

You want to watch

To let the spiral suck you in

To let my spiral suck away all resistance

You want to become mindless for me, because it feels so good to stop thinking

Each word you read will bring you pleasure, and each second you spend watching will make you sink deeper and deeper, until you can’t help but obey…

She reached around her teacher’s body, and cupped both breasts at once.

Miss Thompson gasped, and then relaxed with a moan as Zoe began kneading her nipples.

“How are you doing, miss?” she whispered.

“Can’t… Can’t cum. Need to… but don’t… don’t have permission…”

“Mmmm.” Zoe tweaked her nipples, massaging her surprisingly full and warm tits. “I know it’s a lot to handle if you’re not used to it. I’ve been sliding into this rabbit hole a bit at a time for months, so I’ve built up a liiiittle bit of an immunity.” Partially true, anyway. “But my feed and my followers must have hit you like a ton of bricks.”

Zoe giggled to herself, as her teacher panted.

“Who are you talking to,” Zoe murmured.

“M-Master of Mystery,” Miss Thompson gasped, her back arching.

Ah yes, thought Zoe. Also known as Kevin.

“Tell him I’m here. And ask him what I should do to you.”

“Master…” Miss Thompson typed, and after a moment, responded.

“He says to get on your knees and lick my s-slutty, juicy c… cunt.”

Zoe smiled. “That’s what I was hoping he was going to say,” she murmured as she knelt.

After all, she thought. Good girls obey.

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atinylittlepain · 7 months ago

Text

Little Pinch

nurse!marcus pike x f!reader

she needs to get bloodwork done. one small problem, getting bloodwork done never goes well for her, especially not when she's distracted by the very kind, very handsome nurse doing it.

wordcount | 3.3K

content info | 18+ discussions of getting bloodwork that includes needles, fainting, nausea, mostly fluff, nurse marcus to the rescue, this is just a fun time, also an un-beta'd time so like, be nice pls

a/n | shoutout to the girls (gn) that pass out every time they get blood work done (me). I have to get new labs tomorrow morning, and writing this is how I coped with that prospect :') this one is for the fainters, the thin veiners, the "just do it in my hand"-ers - i see you, i am you, gawd bless

..........................................................................

Here’s the thing, this never goes well. It wasn’t always like this though. She has a vague memory of being a kid and taking it like a perfect champ, testing for mono after a rash of cases at school. But then, well, something changed.

It runs in her family. Thin veins that are hard for even the best nurses to find, lots of oh, I just lost it, and well, let’s try your other arm, and always, ultimately, hands? Should we try the hands? No, the nurses never listen when she tells them to just start with the hands, and without fail, somewhere around the third or fourth time they try to get the needle in, a cold sweat breaks, and the room starts to filter through a fuzzy pinhole of vision. It’s embarrassing, she thinks, because, really, she has no problem with needles. Can watch it go in, no issues with piercings, et cetera, et cetera, but getting blood drawn? Yeah, forget about it. She usually comes to with paperwork around her feet that she had been holding, and a well-meaning nurse pressing a damp paper towel to her forehead and breathing the remnants of her lunch over her face and alright, hon? Usually a box of apple juice and an escort out to her car to make sure she doesn’t go offline again.

The other thing is, unfortunately, she’s pretty sure her little fainting, fading thing has gotten worse over the years. A conditioned response, she thinks, that cold sweat starts the second she walks into the waiting room, already anticipating what comes next. And today, well, even worse than some of the others. Twelve hours fasted, and no, that certainly won’t help her case, no matter how much water she downed before she came here, no matter how tight she squeezes her fist in the hopes of pumping even one vein up enough to be tenable. She looks at the woman sitting across from her in the waiting room, reading a back-ordered issue of Cosmo, flipping and flippant and really, why can’t she be like that? Why can’t she be normal like that? Instead, her heel is doing a frantic tap, whole leg jerking with it, and everytime she checks her watch she feels her heart creep a little further up into her throat.

If she’s being honest, she thought about canceling her labs. No, doc, all good, doc, don’t need to know, doc. And then a friend pointed out, frustratingly, that avoidance is only going to make it worse. Right, so, right, so right, so, here she is. And here’s the nurse opening the door and right, calling her name, and it’s a man nurse, male nurse, though she’s pretty sure she’s not being PC by making that specification in her mind because really, twenty-first century, and really, anyone can be a nurse. But not anyone, right? Lots of schooling, right? Right. She realizes a bit too late that she hadn’t responded to the nurse calling her name, jerking up out of her chair and trying for a smile that she thinks probably looks more like constipation. And that’s just great because now man nurse, sorry, just nurse, probably thinks she’s constipated and she’d rather not have the, actually, very handsome, just nurse, thinking that on top of whatever she’s got going on that necessitates lab work she also can’t take a shit. Right.

“We’re going to be in this room right here.” Handsome just nurse has a nice voice too, deep but kind, and a strong jawline, and a patchy beard but she likes that it’s patchy, and he’s tan and he’s got one of those big watches that tells you how hard your heart was beating on your run and he probably runs in the afternoon after clocking out of the needle-in-arms gig and that’s probably why he’s so tan, probably has a golden retriever who runs with him too, because he looks like a golden retriever guy, dark flop of wavy hair and that smile and oh, oh, he just asked her a question and now she’s supposed to answer it.

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” He smiles, nods, being nice, at least, about her whole scared prey animal situation. She presses her palm down hard on her knee to keep it from bouncing any more.

“It says on this order that these labs need to be taken fasted. Can you confirm to me that you haven’t had anything to eat or drink besides water in the last twelve hours?” Oh yes, yep, she can confirm that for you, Marcus, his name is Marcus, says so on his little lanyard badge. Thanks for the easy one, Marcus, pitch right down the middle, Marcus, with your nice smile and your clipboard and your, well, needles and tubes. But before he can get started with his, well, needles and tubes, she makes a strangled, sort of despondent sound because in situations like these, she comes with a warning label.

“I should let you know I have, um, bad veins? Honestly, you can just start with my hands, I don’t mind it. And also, I’m a fainter, yeah, so, it happens every time, just so you know.” And usually, usually, her spiel is given very little notice, mmmokay, hon. Sure, they’ll lay her back, how merciful, so she doesn’t crack her skull open on the way out of conscious orbit. That’s about it, though. But this time, she thinks, might just be different.

“Okay, thank you for giving me the heads up. If you’re sure you’re alright with starting with the hands then it’s fine by me to get it done that way.” So, so fine, Marcus, and maybe, just maybe, she thinks she might not pass out this time. He sets the exam table at a reclined angle and she wills her rigid spine to settle against it, trying to find the balance between breathing so deeply she starts to get light headed, and not breathing at all. In case you were wondering, yes, she is on medication for anxiety, it just doesn’t seem to presently be working.

“Just gonna feel around a bit here for a good one.” She only feels a little insane for the kick and clench in her heart when he takes her one hand in both of his, because he’s just palpating the back of her hand to find, as he said, a good one. Yes, the word for it is palpating, and there is certainly nothing romantic nor, hello, sexual about anything that’s called palpating. But, hey, taking wins where she can get them, and even through the latex gloves, his hands are warm and big and very know what they’re doing about the whole thing. And she’s no expert, obviously, but he’s got a very nice, very visible vein in his forearm, and she bets phlebotomists love him, bets that when he gets blood drawn, he’s in and out no problem, bets that even she could draw blood from him. Nope, nothing sexual about that, nothing weird about that, right? Right. Nothing sexual either, when he ties off the tight band around her arm and she watches his one bicep flex a little with the effort.

“I can count you down, or you can look away and I’ll just get it done, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh, no preference, I’ll just look away and you can do whatever you want to me.” Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ. She realizes exactly what she just said a bit too late, him, Marcus, nice nurse Marcus, letting out a laugh that fizzles out into a cough. Great, now she’s made her fucking phlebotomist uncomfortable, possibly one of the last people you want to make uncomfortable. But if that, whatever that was, lingers, he doesn’t show it, already swiping an antiseptic wipe over the back of her hand and pulling his little cart of tubes closer to himself. And she knows this part, she’s good at this part, letting her eyes sweep up and to the right, because he’s on her left, and willing whatever vein he decided is a good one to stay a good one. Little pinch, little prayer, she lets out a held breath when he says a quiet alright and keeps the needle exactly where it is. Hallelujah.

“This might take a little longer, just because we’re drawing from your hand.”

“I’ll bleed as fast as I can then.” At the very least, he laughs, even though she wishes she had kept that one to herself.

“Do you live around here?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Sorry, I’m trying to distract you.”

“Didn’t they teach you how to do that in like, phlebotomy school?” She still has her eyes turned up and away, only a little wince when he switches out one tube for another. He hums at her question.

“Not really, I could ask you about the weather, is that better?”

“It’s cloudy. Not much of a conversation starter.”

“Well, why don’t you ask me something, since you’re such an expert on starting conversations.”

“Do you have a golden retriever?”

“What?”

“Sorry, you just, you look like the kind of guy who’d have a golden retriever.” Another tube clicks into place, but she’s not paying any attention to that now.

“Uh, no, no golden retriever. I do however have a very old, very deaf pit mix named Lucille.” Goddamnit, somehow that’s hotter than the golden retriever.

“Great name.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. She came with it when I adopted her.” God. Fucking. Damn it. What next, is he a volunteer firefighter on the weekends?

“Alright, that’s the last one.”

“Wait, really?” She chances a skittish glance but, sure enough, the needle is out.

“Yep, just let me get a band-aid for you and you’re all set.” Is he? Is she? Really? Going to make it out of here with no blackout? She considers, very briefly, as Marcus is smoothing a band-aid over the back of her hand, whether it’s possible to put a phlebotomist on retainer.

“If you want to sit for a minute and make sure you’re feeling alright before getting up that’s totally fine. I can also get you water or juice if you’re getting lightheaded.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine actually. Which, hey, thanks for not making me faint and stuff– that’s a first for me in a very long–” Oh, oh, stops herself mid-compliment because oh, oh, maybe stood up too fast, because the room is going a little dark, a little sideways, cold prickle and nauseous and–

“Easy, easy, I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?” His voice is a little fuzzy around the edges. To be honest, he’s a little fuzzy around the edges, though she knows right away what happened. No, not her first rodeo, like she blinked and then came to in a strange sprawl on the end of the exam table. Marcus presents a dixie cup to her, holds it right in her line of sight because clearly, she’s still a little slumped, still a little vacant, and a little warm, actually, which is new, and a little pleasant, and, oh, it’s because his arm is curled around her shoulders, firm palm held there to help her sit up. Oh. He smells like clorox and something woodsy, and it shouldn’t, but it kind of works.

“You feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm.” She’s afraid of what might come out of her mouth if she doesn’t keep her lips pressed in a thin line, mmhmms again when he asks if she can sit up on her own, only a little despondent when he takes his arm away.

“So, you really weren’t kidding about that happening every time, huh?”

“Nope, wish I was. It’s– I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“That you had to deal with that.”

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, it’s part of the job. And actually, you fainted about as perfectly as I could’ve asked you to.”

“I didn’t know you could faint like, well.”

“Right before you went down you said I’m gonna faint. That’s a lot better than getting no heads up and turning around to find my patient unresponsive on the ground.”

“Oh gee, I bet you say that to all your patients.” Lord, if there was ever a time to put her out of her misery it’d be now. She probably still looks green from her little trip to outer space but sure, flirt with Marcus, handsome nurse Marcus who just watched you absolutely eat it. Kick your feet and bat your eyelashes while you’re at it.

“I take it you’re feeling better then? Are you okay to walk out to the front desk?” And the rest is, mercifully, easy. He walks her to the front desk, squeezes her shoulder and gives her a good job today that she likes a little too much. She makes a mental note to herself to never come back to this clinic for any future bloodwork, lest she make a fool of herself all over again in front of a man who, with any luck, she will never see again.

…

“Yes, this is she speaking.” This is she speaking in the middle of the cereal aisle with a half-filled grocery basket at her feet. She sets her gaze on a hyper-realized image of a granola cluster (now with real strawberries!) while the woman on the other end of the phone tells her that her lab results came in and were sent over to her doctor.

“Oh, great, thank you for letting me know. Do you know– did things look okay?”

“We don’t interpret the results, ma’am. Your doctor will go over that with you.” She doesn’t quite catch that, doesn’t catch the woman’s ma’am? either, a little preoccupied with staring down the aisle, because is that? Is he? He looks good out of the scrubs.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry, no, um, of course. Thanks again.” If the woman had anything else to tell her, it’s a little too late for it, already hung up, and she’s trying to decide if she wants him to see her, or if fleeing immediately is the best course of action. He probably wouldn’t even recognize her, she thinks. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole ordeal. And actually, she’d prefer if he didn’t recognize her. Oh yeah, the one who, well, ate it. But it seems the choice has already been made for her, because he saw her, walking down the aisle toward her, with his chin tilted down and part of a smile like he isn’t sure, but he’s pretty sure. He says her name like a question. Guilty as charged.

“Marcus, right?” Like she forgot his name, ha. His smile stretches, a little brighter, palm to the nape of his neck, and while she got the golden retriever part wrong, she totally clocked the rest, watch on his wrist and nice-looking athletic shorts and just-right-tight t-shirt with the little swoosh on the chest. She thinks his hair might even be a little sweat-damp, curled ends nearly getting in his eyes. In other words, she’s a goner.

“How have you been since we– you, well–”

“Since I passed out on you?” Yeah, that, he laughs out and yeah, she likes him, sue her.

“Just for the record, I believe it was you who said I passed out perfectly, so.” Shrug, so, he takes a step closer, leans in a little like he’s going to tell her a secret. In the cereal aisle, of all places.

“Just for the record, I really don’t say that to all my patients.”

“No?”

“Nope, just the nervous, pretty ones.”

“I was not nervous.”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope.”

“Are you just gonna blow past the other thing?”

“What thing?”

“The pretty thing.”

“Yep.” Something a little giddy, like being back in high school, shared, shit-eating and smug grins. He shakes his head and she rolls her lips back in her mouth to stop her smile from getting any cheesier.

“So, you do live around here then?”

“Mm, yeah, I do. And so do you?”

“I do.”

“Nice, nice.”

“Lovely weather we’re having.”

“Wow.”

“What? I’m making conversation.”

“You’re still not very good at it.”

“I’ll keep working on it for you.”

“Sure, okay. What kind of cereal do you get?”

“What kind do you think I get?”

“You look like a Kashi guy, if I’m honest.”

“Somehow I feel insulted.”

“Well.”

“You’re not even right either.”

“No? What do you get then?” He just smiles, steps away and reaches up to the top of the shelf and she is very grateful to General Mills for being located on the top shelf because his shirt rides up just enough to see a bare hip. In cheerios we trust.

“Apple cinnamon, seriously?”

“What? It’s a classic.”

“Actually, you know what, that tracks.”

“What do you get?” She waggles her basket in front of him in response, goods already procured.

“Peanut butter chex, respectable choice.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You know, I’d say we’re pretty good at this conversation thing.”

“Yeah, we’re not bad.”

“Do you want to do this again sometime? Not in the cereal aisle?”

“What, you mean like in the produce section?” He smiles at that, rolls his eyes, his basket lightly bonking against hers.

“I was thinking more like dinner, or drinks if that’s your thing?”

“I might be free on Saturday.”

“I might also be free on Saturday.”

“Well, sounds like we’re both free on Saturday.”

“Can I get your number?” His lockscreen is a picture of a dog. Lucille, he tells her, before she was very old and very deaf. She can’t help how big her smile gets at that.

“Text me, and we’ll do this whole conversation thing again.” I will, he says, phone tucked back into his pocket, though he seems to think twice before asking her can I see something really quick. Not entirely sure what he means when she nods, but then his hand sort of hovers over her forearm, may I? He really does have nice hands, she doesn’t think twice about nodding again.

“Oh yeah, we didn’t have to use your hand. I could have totally gotten it from here.” His hand curled around her elbow and his thumb lightly pressing into what she can only assume is a vein, and he says it so earnestly that she can’t help the incredulous laugh that rises up in her chest.

“Really? You’re still stuck on that, huh?” He smiles something sheepish, pad of his thumb rubbing an apology into her skin before pulling away. She didn’t really want him to pull away.

“Sorry, occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Kinda weird, you know.”

“Did I just ruin this whole thing?”

“Mmm, no, I kinda like it.”

“So, Saturday?”

“Looking forward to it, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike fic #marcus pike au #marcus pike angst #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you

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personne-reblogs · 2 years ago

Text

AUTISTIC SWEEP

The shouts of the crowd are fading into white noise.

The curtains are closing.

The lights are dimming.

The air still feels filled with static, though.

This is a fight Donatello had known he couldn’t win, logically. The competition had been all fun and games, but this challenger was another story. No amount of support or hype could make up for such a gap; the bone deep certainty didn’t leave room for hard feelings.

Struggling to catch his breath, battle shell against the wall, Donatello looks up from where he’s been getting some rest - not passed out rest, mind you. More like a beauty nap.

He lets out a genuine chuckle.

Shigeo Kageyama is simply standing there, as he has been for most of the fight.

“Sweet Marie Curie,” he puffs, keeping his voice level. The roar of the crowd hasn’t entirely died down, but he knows he is heard. “You don’t even have a scratch.”

The one they call Mob is giving him a stare. He still seems a little out of it.

“You fought well,” he states calmly, and Donnie giggles.

“Oh, please. I’ve been losing tournaments at home for as long as I can remember. You don’t need to feel sorry for me.”

At that, Mob flashes a grin. “I’m not sorry,” he says bluntly, coming over in lazy steps. “But it hasn’t been easy, either.”

He sits down, legs stretched out in front of him, and Donnie can now see that his breathing is a little heavy. He feels himself get cocky.

“Well, I wasn’t about to just let you win. If I had to go down, might as well give ‘em a show, right?”

Mob sends him a sideway glance. “You really are all about dramatics.”

“What can I say?” Donnie sighs theatrically, proving his point. “This whole competition is about being swag. I could hardly disappoint.”

“I don’t think you could," his opponent utters. “You’re very expressive.”

Donnie raises a perfectly drawn eyebrow. This is something he hasn’t often been told. He looks over to Mob, and the tension in the boy’s shoulders makes him hum in thought.

“I don’t know who’s next, but you are going to crush them,” he provides. When Mob gives him a nonplussed glance, he goes on. “And even if you don’t, it’s still the last one. How good does that sound?”

“... it has been getting a bit much, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this is wild,” Donnie agrees. “Anyway, what are you gonna do with your trophy once you get it?”

Mob’s smile is a little shy, but he seems happy with the distraction. “I don’t know, actually. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one. What would you do?”

“Well, you see, there was this one time I won the Lair Games…”

--------------------------

In the next room, a very proud sensei and three worried brothers are getting impatient.

The student and the sibling don’t seem to care at the moment.

The crowd is gone.

The curtains are closed.

The lights are off.

For now, making small talk with a former rival is just enough.

--------------------------

EDIT: there is now a sequel!

YOOO IT'S BEEN SUCH A WILD RIDE

Disclaimer: I have never read/watched mp100 and I deeply apologize for making him probably very ooc. Just wanted to celebrate this beast of a match in my own way, which is wishing I could draw and deciding to heave words on a doc instead lol

CONGRATS ON MOB!! The final match between mp100 and undertale is gonna be soooo funny but I think Mob's gonna win this thing like it's nothing tbh (he has my vote at least)

@autismswagsummit thank you for reblogging all that Donnie propaganda, I genuinely think he never would've made it this far without the signal boost!

All my thanks to the Rise fandom for these past few days! You guys have made such powerful content and there's been so much hype I'm shocked. SHOCKED I TELL YOU

#donnie sweep #mob sweep #autismswagsummit #donatello #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #mob #writing #my writing #original content #i dunno how i tag these anymore

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alienoresimagines · 3 months ago

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S'Cute | Buck x Bucky

I have been absolutely consumed by thoughts since this video where you can hear John saying "S'cute" before grabbing Gale's chin so I had to do something about it and write a lil thingie about John being drunk and in love 🥹❤️

Also on AO3

Gale is a quiet presence next to him but his joy shines so bright John can see nothing but him. They're all seated around a table- Veal, Bubbles, Croz, Jack, Curt, Gale and him, and three RAF guys who've been trying to get under their skin since the beginning of the night- but all John can focus on is the familiar buzz of alcohol and the burning warmth of Gale's fingers against his shoulder blade where Gale rests his arm on the back of John's chair.

Every time the alcohol makes his head swim, words flying over him as he feels like floating, the press of slender fingers on his back is enough to bring him back into his own body, head turning to his left with a smile he can't reign in. Is that how sunflowers feel when they rise up to follow the sun?

Perhaps he's had too much to drink. On the back of his mind, he knows he shouldn't gaze so openly at Gale, sure all the love he bears for the man is drawn plainly on his face. But when he can't control his hand and he finds himself resting one broad palm on Gale's thigh under the table, the other doesn't pull away nor give him a look reminding him of the unwanted company on the other end of the table. Instead, Gale's knee nudges closer to him until their legs knock together, and Gale's entire body angles towards him. John has no choice but to face the three RAF pilots ahead of him if he doesn't want to do something that would definitely be crossing a line of public decency- like pulling Gale closer to his chest or on his lap. The fact that he is now not completely sure Gale would protest the action is decidedly a distraction, and John has to sit on his other hand to act on the urge to reach and touch, and kiss Gale until the other can do nothing but sigh and-

So in his head trying to will his body back under control and his mind out of the gutter, he half-heartedly follows the conversation- something about him singing? He can do that, he's sung to Gale plenty of times- until Curt's voice reaches him, the familiar accent pulling him away from the inviting warmth of Gale's body, so tantalizingly close to his.

"If you want to get Major Egan excited? Baseball!" That brings a bout of awareness through the buzz that he isn't sure is caused by the alcohol anymore. The warmth spreading from his chest to his very toes whenever he looks at Gale, happiness radiant on his face, makes him feel he could never touch a drop of alcohol ever again and still be constantly drunk.

"And especially, the Yankees!" John likes baseball but Gale doesn't. Gale doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't bet, and doesn't like sports. John has never loved anyone more.

"My buddy, Buck, here, he doesn't like sports, he thinks they're a waste of time don'tcha?" He turns back to Gale, because the two seconds he looked away for were torture on his heart, a pull edging him to always have Gale in his sight, at arm's reach.

Gale is already looking at him, eyes bright and fond and loving, the golden light of the pub shining in his hair and creating perfect shadows on an already perfect face.

He's cute.

Gale's eyes widen a bit, a blush immediately finding its way onto his cheeks, and it's only then John realizes he’d spoken out loud. Alcohol made the words slur a bit in his mouth, coming out more as "S'cute" than an appropriate sentence but still Gale heard him. Now ducking his head shyly, a small pleased smile on his face, golden hair perfectly styled making him glow among the rest of them, he looks so sweet and handsome, and he's all Bucky's to love.

Suddenly, resting his hand on Gale's thigh isn't enough. He needs to touch his face, feels the warmth of his blush on his fingers. So, with one hand he does, reaching up until his fingers rest on Gale'd cheek for a second, before gently grabbing his chin. The touch lingers for more than it should have, but it's still too short in John's opinion. His fingertips tingle where he felt Gale's heated cheeks, and he wants nothing more than to cup his face again and pepper it with kisses. Watching the flushed look on Gale's face, the amused glint in his eyes, and the fond quirk of his mouth almost makes him do it, the world all but forgotten around him. But Gale raises his eyebrows in a quick yet teasing reminder as he brings his toothpick to his lips and John can only grin brighter, even if his cheeks have started hurting from how wide Gale makes him smile.

John would fight a hundred wars, cross a thousand hells for that man. So long as his heart beats, it will beat for the man seated next to him, whose smile holds all the wonders of John's world.

My other Clegan Fics

#clegan #buck x bucky #buck squared #mota #masters of the air #gale buck cleven #john bucky egan #ali writes

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velvetcloxds · 26 days ago

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HEAVEN CAN WAIT | A.H.

pairing: groundskeeper!aaron x heiress!reader

word count: 1.5k words

warning: nothing? you simply have to listen to heaven can wait by dean martin as homework

summary: in a form of contained rebellion, you move to a little cottage on a farm in the middle of nowhere to be alone, well alone with the handsome groundskeeper you agreed to keep around to chase the critters away

Dinner was plain but tasteful, a simple recipe you'd found in the old cooking book Aaron found while cleaning the place before you moved in. The silence was beginning to get more bearable during dinner, soft smiles and quick glances filling the time between forks scraping against plates and talkative cows rebelling against the moon. Aaron was getting more comfortable spending time in the main house with you instead of retreating to his cabin at night. Despite your days being everything you'd dreamt of, the picture of peace, nights were still a challenge. The idea of having no company besides your own thoughts and the occasional wandering donkey strolling by was still something to get used to. You'd been finding reasons to have him over at night, a creaking floor, a window that wouldn't close, really whatever you'd discovered during the day- though soon enough late dinners seemed an easier offer than handy work at midnight.

"Do you think it's getting better?" you dared, being adventurous between a bite of pasta, it startled him despite the delicate delivery, his mouth full and bread roll still caught between his teeth- you smiled shyly. "My cooking," you explained and he had some time to think about it as he chewed.

"It's never been too bad," he offered and you had to admit, it was an exciting prospect, having a proper conversation with him.

"Really?" he hummed as an answer, focusing back on his plate, eyes robbed from your view. He really wasn't one for needless pleasantries.

You weren't sure where your father found him, though everything you knew about him was partly fabricated by imaginative daydreaming, you felt drawn to him like no one ever before. He was kind, in ways you weren't used to men being kind, gentle in ways that belonged to novels. You wanted to know all that there is to him, though mystery has its appeals, it was odd being so consumed by thoughts of someone who was still mostly a stranger. You'd thought it merely loneliness, disconnection from the world, too much time spent reading the vintage novels of buried authors that had a way of painting pictures too soft and romantic.

For a while, you'd found yourself comparing him to the likes of Franz Kafka, though seemingly not as disturbed, definitely as morbidly unwilling to see the interest of his own character, the romance of his budding presence. Maybe even the lyricism of Chet Baker, equal parts devotion as melancholy. He was handsome, more so on the colder days when he'd be in too much of a rush to rid the chiseled features of his face of the stubble climbing past his lips. When he'd wrap himself in a thick turtle neck sweater, granting you freedom from being distracted by the flow of his neck to his shoulders, much like the smooth melodies, the soft harmonies of wordlessness of Ella Fitzgerald. You couldn't understand, how you'd allowed yourself such pleasantries of thinking, such poetic comparisons when you were sure he'd not considered the same.

"Fall is starting soon," he spoke over his glass of wine, and with his scarf discarded when he sat down you found a moment of curiosity with the veins in his neck, the movement of his adam's apple. "I imagine you'd want me to come over sooner in the afternoon?" you lifted a brow, momentarily wondering about the request and then looking towards the door, the wind not agreeing with the aged wood, the sound something awful as you attempted to look back at Aaron who offered you something like a smirk when you did.

"What?" you breathed, tugged at the loose cardigan around your shoulders, now very much aware of the wind and the trees brushing against the window and the tiles you now regretted embracing with bare feet.

"The sun sets earlier this time of the year," he explained with foreign casualty, the small kitchen table making it easy for him to reach over and take your empty plate, and you stole a second to settle when he brushed past your should on his way to the sink. "The wind makes the power unstable, but I have candles to spare since you're uncomfortable with the dark and I'd bring over some wood for a fire since you get cold so easily."

You'd be embarrassed if you weren't so enlightened, in awe by his prolific insights into your being, it made you wonder perhaps if he was just as curious about you as you were about him. Though your father had to give him at least somewhat of a background regarding why you'd settled here, you wondered if he had to creatively fill the blank pages too.

"I'd have to learn to make soup, or stew at least," you decided not to take note of his observations, standing instead to take the empty pot and half-full bottle of wine from the table. "If I remember correctly you mentioned something about being able to make bread," he scoffed, a familiar sound, more so than his voice, when he spoke it never seemed to sound the same, always tinted with whatever he was doing or feeling, you'd speak to him so scarcely that every time felt like a different person.

"Sourdough," of course, he'd brought you some in the first week you'd moved here when you weren't as comfortable with the recipe book yet. "It would be perfect with your stew," he didn't see your shy smile, it had been swallowed by the time you went to stand next to him, fingers burning at the accidental contact when he took the pot from you to wash it as well.

You'd turned the record player on earlier, a gift from your mother, a set of records from the sixties to go with it, you'd turned on the first one that you found, it tended to get lost around Aaron, the volume of his presence something deafening despite his silence. Now, however, it felt too loud, transportive in its harmonies of love and longing and time frozen somewhere in a notebook full of souls and lyrics. It drifted through the cold stone cottage like leaves would move with a breeze and hummed through your nerves like poetry had been written into your veins in simple seconds. Forced you to savour it before it ended and though Aaron's hands were still busy in the sink you stole a glance to see him lost in thought, eyes glazed in memory maybe, a fantasy and you felt like you knew everything there is to know in that second.

Desires was like something written by Maya Angelou, completely consuming, too much dept to mention them out loud but you realized the reason Aaron was such an anomaly to you was because of the desire your heart had hidden in simple out-of-reach visions. His arms wrapped around you in a laughably uncharacteristic way, hands sprawled out over the wrinkles in your sundress, daringly close to the strings that hold it together. Eyes closed, conscious dreaming as his voice drawls lowly by your ear, lips brushing your skin, shivers up your spine, airless like you were floating about the room instead of moving ever so slowly to the music. There was a numbness to his touch, phantom, as if your body wasn't yours, as if his fingers weren't real. You wondered if it could last forever, how long the song would play, when the record would stop, you wondered if reality was really worth all of that if a second of hallucinatory bliss could spread through your body like fire, burning through every muscle.

"Would you like to stay?" you cleared your throat, voice unsteady somehow and you weren't sure what you were hoping for, truly you'd experience much more of heaven in your head, in the pages of your journal. "The cake is still too hot for me to decorate it."

"I could stay," he agreed and you truly used every ounce of willpower not to look as he dried his hands, a soft smile, an unfamiliar promise as you caught the briefest glance at your lips, up your face, back to the wall. "I've been meaning to fix your bookshelf for all the new novels you found at the market," you wanted to object, to suggest that he didn't have to work, and could just stay for a while, but he was walking off into your room already. About halfway through your mumbled musings while folding the tablecloth and napkins, he stuck his head out from the hall. "Why don't you restart the record before you come this side," you only had it in you to nod with a smile, hoping it didn't seem too eager, too hopeful. You did as he asked and with a little twirl, you grabbed your book from the coffee table to go watch him work.

Heaven can wait.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotcher #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #ssa aaron hotchner

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professonalarttheclownfan · 1 year ago

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Hannibal Lecter-

Little Lamb

Hannibal x reader

- mentions of a suicide attempt & mental illness.

You had been a patient of Dr Lecter for about a month now, his first appointment being with you when you were still on the ward after a attempt to take your life. The man who you’d come to know as Dr Lecter was kind to you, his voice soothed your thoughts and you began to look forward to seeing the peculiar man each week. You tried for a little while to not let your mind wander to how attractive you found the older man, but then again it pushed other far more darker thoughts aside for awhile. And you indulged yourself into thoughts of the amber eyed gentleman.

————-

“I hope that you’ve been doing as we discussed in the last appointment”

His eyes flicked to yours and stayed there, he had an intimidating undertone to him, an intensity to his presence, which made you crave him more. Your skin prickled as if it was cold, shuffling in the seat to try and distract from the feeling of him staring at you.

“Yes, I’ve been trying to. The thoughts are as intrusive as ever. Although I’ve found a new vice that’s sort of helping. When I think about them the thoughts calm for a while. But they soon come back. And they come back with vengeance”

Your voice was quiet, as it had been all your life. Slightly above a whisper but not by much. Being softly spoken would often mean people would ignore your existence. But not Dr Lecter, he gave his full attention to you when you spoke. Although it’s his job, you’d like to think maybe, just maybe he enjoyed hearing your voice too.

“The intrusive thoughts are getting more and more graphic, it’s like my brain is willing me to become so disturbed I’m past being helped. A punishment for not being dead. I still wish it had worked.”

Your eyes never dared to meet his unwavering gaze, you knew he was looking at you, it made your skin burn in the best possible way but caused you feel even more insecure then you’d ever been. What he must think of you sat there covered in scars of your own making

———————

His eyes never left you as you sat in a rather large chair in his rather large office, the room oozed class & money. When ever you were in his presence his eyes found you and he couldn’t bring himself to rip them away. And anyways, he enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze he could quickly tell the affect he had on you. Your appointments with him were something he looked forward to. He was drawn in by you he learned a lot about you during your appointments even making a conscious effort to ask about you outside of what the appointments were supposed to be about. Being under intensive treatment meant he got you for an hour 3 times a week to his delight. He couldn’t quite understand why a beauty like you wanted to be 6 foot under. He always thought people with such beauty also held a disgusting amount of vanity and self importance. But not you, he enjoyed your beauty, and he found himself not wanting to slice you open and eat your body piece by piece. And that scared him. He didn’t want to stay professional with you, he wanted to patch that dark little mind of yours and claim you as his.

“your thoughts are getting worse? what sort of things are these thoughts about? Don’t be afraid to tell me” He asked. Jotting down what ever notes he needed.

—————

“About hurting people, about hurting myself. Images, awful images. They’d flash into my head, just like before. But instead of them just being about me hurting myself they’re ones of me hurting others, before I’d never had that I’m scared I’ll give in” the welling of tears made room ripple and blur.

“I just want to get better. But that’s never going to happen. My only relief is thinking about someone I know I can never have. Someone who wouldn’t even look at me. They just see me as a sick patient and even then my brain punishes me for it. It hurts me but they make me feel safe, they’re the only person that listens to me”

Your tears ran, wet and warm down your face. Hannibal had never felt an ache in his heart when seeing someone cry. Usually someone’s cries meant nothing to him. Especially the ones of those he killed. But with you, he wanted to push you up against a wall and make you feel anything but sadness.

“Whom is it that you think about?” He asked with out thinking, he cursed at himself for being so abrupt when you were upset.

You dropped your head allowing your hair to fan infront of your face, you wanted to tell him, tell him about how you wanted him to make your skin blaze, how you wanted to feel his lips on every single part of your body, how you wanted him to take every waking and sleeping moment of your life and fill it with him.

“I’m afraid to say Dr Lecter I fear he may never want to see sight of me again”

Hannibal watched as you raised your head, tears streaked your face, your cheeks turned pink and your lips plump, and yet he still thought you looked beautiful. Broken yet beautiful.

He wanted to kiss you, so deeply as if he would engulf you whole and allow you to be safe.

“Why would you think that? you may be in a bad place, but you are person that holds a lot more then what you’re going through. I’ve learned a lot about you y/n your beauty is merely only the surface of you, you are intense yet so gentle. Your brain holds great torment, yet you have never laid a hand on another despite what your mind makes you think. The mere fact you acknowledge that hurt, the fact you wanted to take yourself away in fear of hurting others shows me more about you then you think. I apologise if you think this is inappropriate of me. Only a fool would never want to see sight of you again”

His face never changed, his eyes held the same undivided intense gaze. But he meant every word of what he said. Y/ns brain couldn’t comprehend a man who had everything was speaking so highly of someone who had nothing.

“Dr lec-“

“my little lamb call me Hannibal, I insist”

You body shook lightly,

“Hannibal, it’s you. It’s you that I think about. You fog my mind daily. And you make my thoughts go even if its for a little while, it’s worth it.”

Hannibal got up slowly, placing his glass on the small table beside him. You nerves through the roof as he hadn’t said anything. Had you misunderstood him? Was he simply being kind out of pity?

His hand reached for yours, large yet soft and well manicured. You accepted his hand and allowed him to pull you up.

“You fog my mind too little lamb”

He gently caressed your cheek, taking in the feeling of you finally being pressed against his body. He pressed his lips to yours, savouring how sweet you tasted, mint mixed with an undertone of the expensive wine he’d poured for you earlier. Your mind finally at ease, for the first time in a long time.

“Now, don’t ever take yourself away from me.”

#hannibal #hannibal imagine #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #imagine

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argisthebulwark · 1 year ago

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Remind Me I Am Your One & Only

summary: How I think various skryim men would react to feeling jealous. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Cicero, Vilkas, Farkas, Miraak, Balimund, Erandur warnings: none

For Brynjolf, jealousy is unexpected. He’s secure in your relationship and your feelings for each other but isn't prepared to see you undercover. Watching you snag a pocket watch off some unsuspecting noble hardly distracts him from the flirtatious tone dripping from your lips. He can't exactly voice how he feels without blowing your cover. Instead, he decides two can play that game. Brynjolf knows you’re watching when his touch lingers just a tad too long on a Thane’s bejeweled necklace, smug satisfaction smothering the burning pit of jealousy in his stomach. “Don’t worry your pretty head, love. I don’t mind as long as I’m the only one you’re leavin’ with tonight.”

Cicero’s jealousy is stealthy. Most wouldn’t notice the way his smile devolves to a sneer or the narrowing of his eyes. He holds back the barrage of threats dancing along the tip of his tongue, concealing the bloodlust simmering just under his skin. He trusts his Listener. He does not trust this stranger who dared to put an all too familiar hand on them. “Silly, funny Listener. Cicero is your fool! Devoted Cicero, your loyal Keeper will take care of those who cross your boundary.”

Vilkas will get frighteningly quiet. He’s tense, eyes darkening and brows tightening as he glares down at whoever dared to speak to you in such a way. His presence at your side is near constant, always your shadow. He assumed everyone in Whiterun knew the Harbinger owned his heart. Luckily, the intensity of his stare is enough to shoo off your pursuer. “Of course I wasn’t glaring - why would you think such a thing? If I wanted to scare them off I would’ve drawn my sword. I’m not jealous, that’s childish.”

Farkas isn’t one for jealousy. He knows you only have eyes for one another. Watching someone attempt to flirt with you is fairly entertaining, knowing that you must be biting your tongue in anticipation for the killing blow. He can’t be blamed if he flexes just a tad when you point him out or drops a few more terms of endearment into the following conversation. “I thought everyone learned what a Band of Matrimony meant in our primary lessons. A shame, remind me to do something sickeningly romantic when we next visit the market.”

Miraak’s jealousy is deafening. Despite escaping Apocrypha and returning to a mortal body he’s maintained the stature of a god. Strategically placed, possessive hands and a voice rich with ancient power make no qualms with broadcasting his place as your beloved. “Mere mortal, do you not realize who stands before you? You deign to speak to them in such a familiar tone? Tsk, if I were the Dragonborn you would not remain standing. Pity.”

Balimind is not a man that is jealous often. He knows his feelings and yours, he is quite comfortable in your relationship. Even when you’re out on the road and he’s dutifully working away at his forge you remember to send letters. Whether you’re keeping him up to date on your latest conquest or expressing how lonely you are it’s reassuring. On the rare occasion he’s alone, dining in the tavern and some idle chatter about you reaches his ears, he’ll have no trouble reminding them whose arms you fall into upon returning. “C’mon now, folks. I know they’re easy on the eyes but it’s my tub they’re wrecking with all those dragon guts. Best watch your words.”

Erandur’s jealousy would be turned inward. He can only see the ways in which whoever shows interest in you compares to him - they’re younger, their pasts surely less sordid. It will surely take him some time and the occasional word of encouragement to feel confident in his place as your partner. “I assure you, my love. All is well. No need to worry over me. I am simply astonished by you. As always.”

#skyrim #skyrim fanfic #skyrim x reader #x reader fanfic #writing #brynjolf #cicero #vilkas #farkas #miraak #balimund #erandur

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alwritey-aphrodite · 5 months ago

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Hiiiii!!! I’ve got a whole book load of ideas for this pathetic man named Carmy Berzatto but this one’s been in my head for a while. Basically they aren’t together (yet wink wink ;)) but reader keeps a sketchbook around and has a few drawings of Carmy because how can you not wanna draw his sad doe eyes. One day they leave it behind and Carmy finds the drawings and is flustered that someone would wanna draw him.

He can also confront reader for some tension but this boi just needs to be drawn like a French girl and given some love.

Happy writing btw!

Thank you for this request!!! I would love to hear more of your ideas if you’d like to share them hehehe

You are going to murder your best friend.

He’s incredibly irritating, in ways he doesn’t even realize. He’s disgustingly caring, keeping his fridge stocked with snacks and drinks that only you like, remembering books you’d wanted to get and dropping them at your front door, taking you around Chicago to find the best art supply stores. He even comes with you whenever you want to take a trip to the art museum, not because he enjoys the art but because the thought of you being there alone makes him anxious.

Not only is he upsettingly kind, he’s also nauseatingly gorgeous. Sometimes it’s a little hard to look at him, you’re so worried your heart is going to stop. You love every little thing about him, every tidbit and quirk you learn loving stored away in your mind to turn over when you can’t sleep. You can’t stay away from him, but you’re not sure how much more of him you can take.

“Wanna go down to the park with me?” You lean yourself across his counter as he cuts the fruit you’d just bought at the farmer’s market. You’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself, but he didn’t even ask, and you’re sure he knows more than you do when it comes to making produce last longer. Plus, this just means you get to stare at his hands and his arms and that face he makes when he’s focusing.

“Why?” He asks, not even bothering to look up at you, not because he doesn’t care but because he’s desperately trying to impress you with his knife skills, as if he doesn’t run one of the best restaurants in the city.

“I have to practice my figure drawing,” you tap the front cover of your sketchbook for emphasis, hoping he hears the gentle thudding even if he doesn’t see it.

“I’m almost done,” he says, instead of reminding you of how hot it is and how little free time he has, because he’d do anything for you, even if you didn’t ask, even if he only suspected you wanted something, he’d make it happen.

It's not long after that the two of you are sitting on a scorching park bench, roasting underneath the sun. You’re sure Carmy’s bored and sweating, and you know he has a million other things he could be doing right now, but he’s sitting next to you in the blazing heat while you try and find a clean page in your sketchbook.

You flip to a clear page, searching the park for someone interesting to draw when you see a laughing baby a few feet away, the high-pitched noise bringing a smile to your face. You try your best to capture that particular joy that you’re almost certain only babies are capable of feeling, and it’s not your best work, but your only glad was to get more comfortable with live references and exploring emotions. Plus, Carmy is much too distracting. He’s got his head tilted towards the sun, eyes shut against the light that illuminates the slope of his nose and the curve of his jaw, making him look nothing short of godly. You’re not sure how you get away with all this staring, but you don’t want your luck to run out, so you turn back to your paper and search the park for someone else to draw.

After a runner, an elderly couple, and a young woman crying, you close the cover of your sketchbook as your fingers start to cramp. You rest your hands on top of the cover, trying your hardest to deter the breeze from disturbing your pages the way it ruffles Carmy’s curls. As close as you are, you never want Carny to see your sketchbook, beyond the few pages you’ve already shown him.

Most of the pages are full of him, different angles and emotions and parts of his body. There’s a page dedicated to his hands, to his curls, to those beautifully expressive eyes. You’re certain that you could draw him from memory and have every slope and curve and angle be absolutely perfect. Those drawings are your reminder that you’re talented, that you have skills that you’ve practiced for years and years and that your art is good, whether you always think that or not, but you’d die if Carmy ever saw them.

Friends don’t secretly fill pages and pages with drawings of their friend, because it’s strange and a little creepy and reveals feelings you’d rather keep hidden. Really, you’re not sure how you get away with staring at Carny so often, ogling without so much as a glance from him, but you can’t help yourself. You’re friends with the most beautiful man in existence, of course you’re going to stare when he’s focused or distracted and won’t notice the stars in your eyes.

It’s not until hours later, after you’ve returned to your own apartment and you finally get around to unloading the bag you’d been carrying all day, that you realize your sketchbook is missing. You know for a fact that you carried it back from the park, mindful of the reassuring weight of it in your hands, and you immediately know you must have forgotten to put it back in your bag after you’d stopped at Carmy’s to cool down before making your way back to your apartment. You can practically see it on his countertop, all of your most closely guarded secrets left unprotected. You’re halfway through your spiral about needing to pack up and move away forever to save yourself from the mortification of Carmy knowing how you feel when there’s a knock on your door.

You open it without thinking, immediately regretting your decision when you see Carmy on the other side, looking rather disheveled. Your mind comes up completely blank as you struggle to form a sentence, trying to decide between playing it cool and pleading for forgiveness.

“You’re really talented,” he tells you, offering the sketchbook out to you. You can tell by his tone, by the fact that he sounds like he’s choking, that he’s seen the drawings. You take the book, the weight heavy in your hands without any of its security. You feel raw and exposed, ripped apart and stomped on, but you step back and open the door farther anyway, walking towards your kitchen and hoping Carmy follows.

“I’m sorry,” you settle on a simple apology, not certain you’d be able to articulate anything more, because how are you supposed to explain to your best friend that you’re so in love with him you can’t help but commit him to memory, can’t help but fill pages and pages with just his figure because you love him so much it’s like your body and soul are being taken over by some force you’re completely unable to control as your pencil glides across the page?

“Don’t be,” he clears his throat, fingers fidgeting against the back of a chair, “they’re really good,” he pauses, lips working silently like he can’t quite push out the words, “I don’t understand.”

“You’re my muse, I guess,” you force out an awkward chuckle, trying your hardest to be funny so you don’t have a breakdown, “I dunno, it’s just easy for me.”

Drawing him, loving him, comes naturally to you, like it’s something you’ve been doing your whole life. You know him, every slope and curve and angle, every shadow, you know him so well he seems like a part of you. He’s trying to process, you can tell by the way he works his jaw back and forth, and you’d be committing this moment to memory to add to your pages and pages of drawings if you weren’t so nervous. You’re going to have to let him go when all you want to do is keep him with you forever.

“No one’s ever done anything like that.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize lamely, because you’re not sure what else to say.

“It’s not a bad thing,” he clarifies, seeming like he’s finally getting his thoughts in order, “I don’t mind, I just wish I’d known.”

“Well, now you do,” you feel a little stung, wishing for something more than indifference, rage or elation or any strong feeling at all.

“I’ve gotta go, early morning tomorrow,” he says and you just nod, because you’re not sure what else to say. You’re still standing in the kitchen when you hear your door open and gently shut again, leaving you alone once more. You feel weightless and weighed down at the same time, and you speed through the rest of your nighttime routine, desperate to crawl into bed.

It's not until you’re passing by your front door to make sure it’s locked that you see the containers of cut-up fruit Carmy had left for you.

Tagging people who seemed interested :) @onceuponaoneshotfanfic @yxtkiwiyxt @veryprairieberry

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x you #carmy berzatto fic #the bear fic #the bear

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