#I’ve no more patience for this bullshit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewickedjazzy · 5 months ago

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Level 1: "Taste" [Erotic Asphyxiation] For Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩osamu dazai x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩Synopsis: four years have passed since you last saw dazai, but now your ex is back in the port mafia basement, dragging you back into the rabbit hole of affairs that you thought you left behind.

ᡣ𐭩Warning: nsfw mdni 18+ content, smut, sub! dazai, dom! reader choking/erotic asphyxiation, degrading, edging, orgasm control, mention of cum, cowgirl position, not proofread..etc.

ᡣ𐭩Word count: 2k.

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

you pinch the bridge of your nose, making it clear that your patience is wearing thin. unbelievable. of course, it’s him—your ex, the one who abandoned both the mafia and you without a second thought. but even with everything you know about him, you never imagined he’d stoop this low.

in front of you sits the former demon prodigy, osamu dazai, hands cuffed to the chair in the port mafia's gloomly lit basement. the strangest part? no one had captured him. all you know is that one of the lower-ranked mafiosos had interrupted you in the middle of “interrogating” a particularly troublesome target, telling you that someone is waiting for you downstairs. handcuffed and refusing to leave until he sees you. and that’s how you ended up here.

it was a bad idea. why would you agree to meet someone who willingly gets themselves into the port mafia basement playing the victim? it's risky, especially not with your reputation—admired and feared in equal measure. you should’ve turned back the moment you stepped into the room, but curiosity got the better of you.

“that's absurd,” you sigh, crossing your arms. “why would you go through all this when you know i've already buried us in the past?”

his honey-brown eyes that you once adored meet yours, and despite everything, that familiar smirk pulls at his lips—the same one that used to make your heart race, but now it only irritates you to no end.

“you’re underestimating yourself, sweetheart,” he purrs. “you may not want anything to do with me, but I know for sure that you still miss me as much as I do”

you narrow your eyes, taking a step closer. “you don’t get to say things like that anymore, asshole!” you snap. “you gave up that right the moment you walked away.”

he chuckles lowly, eyes fixed on yours as if savouring your every move. "you really think i gave up on you? on us? never.."

your fingers twitch at his insinuation, irritation boiling in your chest—how dare he!! — and before you even realize what you're doing, you move to close the distance between you, gripping the collar of his beige coat and yanking him forward. his breath hitches slightly, but that stupid smirk stays plastered on his face, his eyes still locked onto yours, amused?

“bullshit!” you growl, pushing him back against the chair with enough force that the wood creaks under the pressure. “you’re delusional if you think i'd fall for your games again.”

“i’m not here to play games, baby. i came here because... I made a mistake.” his smirk fades, and for a while, you hesitate, torn between anger and love? something you’ve buried deep since the day he left. but you can’t let yourself fall for this again, can’t let him back in after everything.

“I don’t need your apologies, osamu. I’ve moved on.”

“doubt it” he chuckles lightly,“you're still calling me osamu...doesn't sound like someone who's truly moved on.” his sick smirk curls back.

without warning, you shove him again against the chair, your fingers trail up to wrap around his throat, thumb pressing down just enough to restrict his air.

dazai doesn’t flinch, if anything, his mouth parts, and a strained, breathless sound escapes—somewhere between a moan and a groan.

“stop it,” you snarl, leaning in close enough that your breath skims his ear. “I'll kill you if i have to.”

the way his adam's apple bobs beneath your hand when he swallows tells you everything you need to know. his head falls back slightly, offering more of his throat, as though inviting you to take everything. his hips shift subtly in the chair, and you almost laugh at the realization.

“oh... you still enjoy this?,” you snarl, fingers digging into the delicate skin of his neck as you feel his pulse hammering beneath your touch. his eyes flutter, pupils blown wide, “sick bastard...”

you can see the bulge straining against his pants twitching beneath the rough fabric, “...i know you very well. you think you can just fuck your way back through anyone and anything.” you growl, leaning down until your lips hover over his. “filthy womaniser”

“—you think I care about those women?” he gasps for air, his hips shifting beneath you as if to prove his point,“they were nothing. filthy, meaningless distractions...none of them mattered, none of them were you.”

you grit your teeth, but before you can reply, you feel something shift. his hands?—his cuffed hands—are no longer bound. a soft gasp escapes you as his fingers press against your lower back, pulling you forward with a sudden, fluid motion. you didn't even notice. when did he undo the cuffs? your mind races, but the thought quickly slips away as your body drags closer, your thighs with your short black skirt spreading wide over his hips, now straddling him.

your eyes widen for a moment, but the way he's staring up at you, eyes filled with lust? longing? as if he's been waiting for this moment his entire life. the teasing, bratty glint still in his eyes as he leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “i miss you,” he whispers, “please...just one kiss, let me taste you one more time.”

your breath hitches as he draws closer and you can feel how desperate he is, his longing wraps around you like a warm blanket. his long, slender fingers graze your back, the gentle caress making you forget everything he did. his eyes, half-lidded pleading for you to close the distance, to say yes, to lean into his touch.

as he leans in, his pretty lips capture your lower one, teasingly pulling you closer. a muffled moan escapes him as he finally tastes you again, gets lost in you again, stirring emotions that you fought really hard to suppress.

his soft tongue darts out, exploring every inch of your mouth, and you can’t help but kiss him back, grinding against his clothed, hard cock.

your lips part for a moment as he pulls away slightly, “fuck...I missed the way you taste" he murmurs, his tongue brushing your parted lips softly eliciting a soft mewl from you.

you can't take it anymore, the flood of desire makes your brain short-circuit, your senses heightening, you want him again, want to feel him again, without think you yank his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. it’s already leaking, rock-hard, twitching at the slightest movement of your hips as you position yourself over him.

you push your panties aside, and before he can say another word, you sink down onto his cock, taking him in one swift motion. he gasps, his entire body tensing as his hands fly up to grip your hips even harder. the stretch of him filling you is perfect, god, you miss how his delicious cock used to fill you up so perfectly. you can’t help but let out a low moan as you begin to ride him. his eyes flutter shut, and his head lolls back against the chair, soft involuntary whimpers escaping him. you catch his lower lip trembling, his jaw slack, utterly fucked-out beneath you.

you yank him forward by his hair, forcing him to keep his eyes on you. “don’t look away, asshole. i want you to watch while i use you.”

a needy whimper escapes his lips as you set a punishing pace, riding him hard and fast. every thrust drives him deeper inside you, the slick sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room and you can feel his warm cock twitch inside your velvet walls with every movement.

his body trembles, hips jerking uncontrollably as he teeters on the edge, barely holding on. “please—baby...i can’t—i need—nnghh..”

“you came here cuffing yourself like a good boy huh? nghh hoping i- ahhh would break you?” you coo in his ear.

his hips jerk up bouncing into you in response to your words chasing his release, but you don’t stop. you ride him mercilessly, heat building inside you signalling that you're too close. finally, when you feel his cock twitches inside you, threatening to spill at any second, you lean down, tearing off the bandages around his neck. you wrap your fingers around his exposed throat, choking him just the way he likes it.

his breath catches in his throat, eyes rolling back, a blissed out expression settling on his face.

his hips jerk up faster, slamming into you, you can’t help but match his rhythm, riding him harder, taking every inch of him as he drives deeper inside you. the tight grip on his throat sends waves of tingles and pleasure through his entire body, drool slipping from his parted lips. in a feverish moment, you catch his mouth with yours, tongues tangling as your spit mingles together, the taste of him making your belly sink in pleasure, you would never admit how much you crave him, four year— four fucking years.

“don’t stop—mngh—fuh-k mmph..yes yes i'm close—” he gasps, zoning out everything else except how your walls feel tightening around him, you continue to match his pace, but just as he's about to cum, you suddenly stop, lifting your hips so his cock slips free from your slick heat, enjoying the way he now whimpers in desperation.

“n-no- no, no... nghh.. why did you mmph..let me cum please, let me cum inside you, it hurts”

you tighten your grip on his throat, a chuckle escaping your lips as his hips buck up, instinctively chasing after your warm folds once more. “mmph..pathetic”

“no n-o, i’ll do anything—just don’t tease me like this. need to feel you around me, pleas-e..ahh!” his words turn into a moan as you squeeze his throat a bit more tighter, making his eyes roll back.

“then beg for it,” you command, your tongue trailing along the sensitive skin beneath his ear “show me how much you want it.”

he bites his lip, fighting against the urge to thrust upwards again. “please,” he gasps, lips trembling “please...i can’t hold on any longer—just let me cum inside you baby please..”

his hips buck again, more insistently this time. and with that, you sink down onto him slowly, relishing the way he gasps at feeling your slick tight walls swallow his cock,. “mngh...now, move for me,” you purr, your grip still firm around his throat.

he digs his fingers into your hips harshly, bouncing into you with fevered speed, each thrust brushing against every sweet spot you crave as he whimpers like a bitch in heat, feeling the pleaure build up once again. “fff—uhck—i’m ngh...so close!” he hisses, chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

his last thrusts take your breath away as he thrusts up deep inside of you. the only sound left is your shared gasps and moans as he cums, coating your insides.

his jaw go slack as his release hits hard, muffling his cries as his eyes roll back, spilling deep inside you. he shudders beneath your touch, his hips bucking wildly as he rides out his orgasm.

you don’t stop riding against him, milking him for every last drop, and it’s only when his entire body goes numb, trembling and panting, that you finally slow down.

“you always come back, don’t you?” you murmur with a shaky breath, releasing your grip on his throat. “even after everything we’ve done to each other.”

“i can’t help it,” he breathes out,“every time i try to walk away... i find myself right back here... with you.”

even though you wish every inch of your body wouldn’t react to his words, you can’t help but feel the tingles run down your spine—he’s twisted, messed up even, but he never fails to pull you back in.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @thedamselzelda @corruptedwrathkitsune

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emmylksblog · 7 months ago

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ANNOYING HAPPINESS // H.FORT

summary: you have a fight with your bf hector and his motives turned out to be deeper than you thought. based on this request

genre: angst, comfort

warnings: none

a/n: the urge i have to comfort a man like that 😔🤌🏻 (you’ll understand me when you read it 😃)

Hector sat slumped on a bench in the locker room. The team had just won a hard game, and they’d been celebrating in high spirits. All of them except Hector. He’d been unusually quiet throughout the whole thing, barely even cracking a smile after the final whistle blew.

As his teammates made their way out of the room, chatting and laughing, he remained behind. It was only when you approached him that he finally spoke.

”Why do you have to always be so damn cheerful?”

Your heart sank at his sharp tone. You’d been celebrating with the rest of the team, excited about the team’s victory. But Hector’s words made it clear that he didn’t share your enthusiasm.

”What do you mean?” you asked carefully.

Hector gave a scoff, his irritation obvious. “You know what I mean. The whole jumping around and clapping and acting like every little thing is a big goddamn deal.”

He was staring straight ahead, refusing to look at you directly. His jaw was clenched, the muscles tight. Clearly, something was bothering him deeply.

You were taken aback by his tone. Sure, Hector had always been more reserved than the other players, and prone to moments of sullen silence, but he’d never lashed out like this. Even after a bad loss, he’d usually just remain quiet and unemotional.

”Why does it bother you so much?” you asked hesitantly.

Hector finally turned to look at you. His eyes were cold and hard, but there was also a vulnerability there that you seltenly saw.

”Because it’s all bullshit,” he snapped. “It’s not real. We win a game and you act like it’s the greatest thing in the world. But what about when we lose? Then it’s just on to the next one. It’s all just a big joke, and you’re the only one who doesn’t get it.”

You were caught off guard by his bitter words. You wanted to reassure him, to tell him that it wasn’t all a joke, but something in his tone stop you. He was dead serious.

”Hector, that’s not true...” you began, but he interrupted you with a derisive snort.

“Oh yeah?” Hector shot back. “Then why does the media love you so much, huh? Always talking about how great you are. How you’re the best fan this team could ask for. It’s just a goddamn performance for them, and you’re their favorite clown.”

His words stung. You’d never thought of your love for the team as just a performance before. But Hector’s dismissive tone was starting to get to you.

”So I should just be unhappy all the time, is that it?” you asked, your voice growing sharper. “Just mope silently when the team loses, like you do?”

Hector winced at your words, but then his scowl returned. “At least I’m not fake,” he snarled. “I don’t pretend everything’s sunshine and rainbows just because it makes me look good on camera.”

You felt a flash of anger that he would accuse you of being fake. “Just because I’m not a miserable grouch like you doesn’t make me a fake! I love this team, and I celebrate their successes.”

Hector let out a low growl, his patience wearing thin. “You think it’s easy being this way?” he asked, his voice harsh. “You think I like bottling everything up like some kind of robot? I wish I could be like you, going around all happy all the time. But I can’t. I’ve seen too much to act like nothing bad will ever happen.”

You were just starting to respond when Fermin suddenly appeared in the doorway. Hector seized the opportunity and brushed past the other man without a backward glance.

Fermin must have sensed the tension in the air, because he gave you a quizzical look. “What was that all about?” he asked.

You shook your head, still rattled by Hector’s words. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, not meeting Fermin’s gaze.

You hurried after Hector, your heart still pounding with frustration and bewilderment. The parking lot was mostly empty now, his teammates already having left.

You found Hector at his car, his jaw still clenched in irritation. He didn’t look up as you approached, just stood there silently, waiting.

You stood next to him, not quite sure what to say. Hector’s outburst had left you feeling both stung and puzzled. He was normally so reserved; what had set him off like this?

After a few tense seconds, he finally spoke, his voice low and quiet. “You gonna stand there all night?”

You sighed, realizing that he wasn’t about to address the argument. “No,” you replied, your tone matching his. “Are you going to keep being a jerk?”

Hector let out a humorless laugh. “No promises.”

He opened the car door and got in, leaving you standing there on the empty asphalt. This conversation wasn’t over.

The drive back to your shared home was tense and filled with awkward silence. Hector didn’t speak a word, just kept his eyes fixed on the road. You could practically feel the anger and frustration rolling off him in waves.

As you both walked up the steps to the front door, you knew the argument was far from over.

Hector stalked into the house without a word, leaving you to follow him inside. The moment you were both in the door, you decided it was time to address the issue.

”We should talk,” you said, trying to keep your voice level. “About what happened tonight.”

Hector flung his keys on the counter and turned to face you. His expression was still stormy, but he didn’t say anything. He just waited, his arms folded across his broad chest.

You took a deep breath, summoning up your courage. “You really hurt me tonight, you know,” you began, your voice firm. “With those things you said . . . accusing me of faking my emotions just to look good for the media. Do you really think that’s true?”

Hector scowled and looked away. He was silent for a few moments, as if struggling to find the right words. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and rough.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered. “Not exactly. It’s just . . . it makes me mad watching you act like everything’s always so damn happy when it’s not. Like you’re not ever bothered when we lose or things go bad.”

He looked back at you, his eyes conflicted. “You don’t know what it’s like for me, to always have to be the serious one. To see how easily you smile and get along with everyone, while I just stand there and watch...” His words trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Your heart softened slightly at his confession. Hector’s words made you realize that he was just as vulnerable as you, just in a different way.

After a moment’s hesitation, you took a step closer to him. “You don’t have to be that way,” you said gently. “You don’t have to always be the serious one, the one holding it all together. You can let your guard down around me, at least.”

Hector looked away again, the muscles in his jaw working. Clearly, trusting others didn’t come naturally to him. But your words had struck a chord – he didn’t pull away when you moved closer.

“It’s okay to be vulnerable,” you said quietly, taking another small step forward. You hesitatingly reached out, touching his arm – a silent offer of comfort. “You can be different with me. I’m not going to judge you.”

Hector met your gaze, a mixture of vulnerability and defensiveness in his eyes. He didn’t pull away from your touch, but he didn’t lean into it either. He just stood there, caught between the need to keep his walls up and the desire to let someone in. Your boyfriend felt like he had to bear the weight of the world alone.

“You don’t always have to play the tough guy,” you said, your voice gentle. “You don’t have to push me away.”

Hector flinched at your words, as if they had hit a nerve. But he still didn’t move away. He just stood there, his expression conflicted, his body rigid with tension.

You could sense that he was waging an internal battle against his own instincts. Hector had never been good at allowing others to get close. He was used to dealing with his emotions privately, alone and unassisted. Your relationship was testing those boundaries in ways he’d never had to face before.

Hector tensed as you reached up to touch his face, his body going instantly still. Your fingers traced the line of his chin, gently turning his head so that he was forced to meet your gaze.

He held it for a moment, his hard exterior crumbling slightly as he looked at you. He was searching your eyes, unsure whether to pull away or give in.

His shoulders sagged, the tension in his body finally releasing. Hector’s eyes were still on yours, but his tough facade was gone. Now he just looked... lost.

He didn’t resist as you gently pulled him forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. Hector let out a deep sigh, burying his face in your shoulder.

Hector clung to you tightly, his frame shaking as he let out a choked sob. He gasped out several choked apologies, his voice rough and broken.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t mean it... I just—“ He cut himself off with a strangled gasp.

Your heart ached at the sight of him struggling to hold himself together. You had never seen him this defensless, this desperate before. This was raw, unfiltered emotion, the kind of thing he would never let the world see.

You held him tighter, one hand gently rubbing his back. “Shh. It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it cariño.”

Hector’s tremors subsided somewhat as you pressed a gentle kiss to his head. He clutched you tighter, as if afraid you would disappear if he let go.

He was clearly struggling to deal with his emotions after holding them in for so long. It was like a dam had burst inside him, and now all the feelings he so strictly controlled were pouring out, overwhelming him.

You could feel the tension in his body fading away, replaced instead by a desperate need for comfort. He was holding onto you tightly, seeking reassurance and comfort.

You continued to hold him, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soothing words into his ear. “I’ve got you,” you murmured. “I’m here. It’s okay. Let it out.”

Hector was shaking his head, still apologizing for his outburst. “I don’t deserve you... you’re too good to me.”

You took his face in your hands, gently forcing him to look at you. “No,” you said firmly. “You don’t get to talk like that. You deserve to be loved and comforted just as much as anyone else.”

Hector let out another choked sob at your words, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Your own eyes were watering, seeing the man you loved so overwhelmed.

You gently kissed away his tears, wiping away his sorrow with your lips. “I love you,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “You do deserve this. You do deserve me.”

Hector looked wrecked, his eyes red-rimmed and his face damp from crying. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “Why do you put up with me?” he mumbled, his voice hoarse from sobbing. “I’m such a jerk sometimes.”

You smiled gently as you held him, continuing to soothe him with gentle touches. “Because I love you, you big idiot,” you replied, your voice soft. “The good parts and the bad parts. All of you.”

Hector held onto you tightly, his body still shaking but his sobs calming down. As you held each other, he finally let the words slip from his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I do. I’m sorry for being such a jerk. I just . . . I don’t know how to handle all these damn feelings sometimes.”

You smiled at his confession, your heart swelling with love for this complicated man. “It’s okay,” you said softly, stroking his hair. “You don’t have to carry it all by yourself anymore, alright? I’m here. We’ll figure it out together.”

Hector looked at you with a mixture of vulnerability and neediness. His defenses were gone, his walls completely shattered. He was open and unguarded, and something about the sight tugged at your heartstrings.

You gently cupped his face in your hands and leaned in, your lips meeting his with a tender touch. The kiss was soft and unhurried, filled with all the unspoken love and reassurance you wanted to give him.

Hector responded immediately, his lips moving gently against yours. A soft sigh escaped him as he deepened the kiss, his hands finding their way to your hips, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of your touch.

You gently pulled away from the kiss, breaking the contact with a sigh. Hector looked dazed, his eyes still half-closed and his lips slightly parted. He followed your movement as you pulled back, as if unwilling to let you go.

You smiled at the sight of him, still unguardedly vulnerable as he stared up at you. “Let’s get you cleaned up baby,” you murmured, gently running a hand through his mussed hair. “You look like a mess.”

Hector managed to summon up a weak smile, his usual teasing attitude returning. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you make a man cry, babe.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, blame it on me,” you retorted, poking him playfully in the chest. “It’s definitely not because you’ve been bottling up your feelings for so long.”

Hector huffed in mock annoyance, but there was no real ire behind it – his defenses had been thoroughly broken down by your love and compassion.

As the two of you continued to tease each other, it was clear that some barriers had been lowered. Hector might never be a master at processing and expressing his own feelings, but at least he wasn’t shutting you out. For tonight, that was enough.

#hector fort #hector fort x reader #hector fort x you #fc barcelona x reader #fcb x reader #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n #marc guiu #marc guiu x reader #pablo gavi x reader

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stellewriites · 20 days ago

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Part Four - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, angst

The pair of you stayed quiet in the taxi and then on the short walk to your hotel room. John broke the silence finally when the door closed behind you and you were faced with the double bed and your bags, presumably dealt with by John’s family earlier in the evening when they found out you’d not had chance to stop at the hotel beforehand. You’d wondered where Richard had disappeared to for half the evening.

“Thank you,” John said heartfelt, ducking his chin to meet your eyes. “For coming here, being there for me and—“

“And for not being a raging bigot?” You blurted out, biting your cheek immediately after. You looked up at John’s shocked silence and backtracked. “I’m sorry, that was blunt and- rude. I got pulled aside, figured it out from what they were saying.” You winced, and rubbed at your forehead when a headache made itself known.

“Where they saying anything good?” John asked calmly, jokingly even.

You sighed. “Honestly I think I should be commended for my patience with them but then you’d need about a hundred more accolades than me, I’d assume,” you said tiredly.

“It’s just small town bullshit. Used to bother me, but I’ve found people since that don’t care.”

“Mm. And just one more day of it, at least?” You asked rhetorically.

“Made all the more easy with you here,” he soothed.

You smiled thinly, his words causing an ache, before heaving a heavy sigh and rubbing at your tense shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, I need some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” He nodded and moved to give you space to reach for your bag. He left you to it in the bathroom and once the door was closed you let your face crumple just a little and your shoulders sag. What a mess, and he likely thought you were mad at him now for not telling you about it, leaving you in the dark with his family when that wasn’t the case at all.

You opened the door again and caught him with his shirt halfway unbuttoned.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered as he continued to get undressed. “Uhm, I just wanted to say that I understand why you didn’t tell me, when we first met. I mean given how everyone was there and you didn’t know me, not that you seem worried that I was upset about it, but I’m not. Just to confirm.”

Christ, dig yourself deeper.

John huffed a soft laugh and nodded. “Good to know, Sunshine.”

You nodded and closed the door again, leaving him to continue getting changed while you did the same, washing your face clean and brushing your teeth and feeling ten times lighter.

The ache you felt when you saw him with Charlotte hadn’t gone away, but you could put that on the back burner.

When you stepped back through, a little more hesitantly this time in case he was slow to change, you smiled when you saw he’d purposely left his sleep shirt off. His surgery scars were hardly visible beneath his dark chest hair and he’d clearly taken care of them to ease the healing and provide as much stretch in the skin and across his chest for movement.

You stayed quiet however and didn’t draw attention to his decision; instead you smiled at him a little less forced and joined him in bed.

“You better not snore,” you warned as you turned onto your side away from him, snuggling down into the blankets. You wanted him to know nothing had changed since you’d found out, but you needed to get a hold of your feelings now before you got hurt even worse. The last thing you wanted was to act cold to him, but if you saw his tired eyes crinkle in a fond smile from across a shared pillow you might do something drastic like confess your feelings or suck his cock ‘til your jaw went numb.

You clenched your thighs and shuffled to get comfortable as you felt the mattress dip behind you. It was time to sleep, not time to think about your kiss and the rumbling moan he’d let slip, mouth to mouth with a direct line to your—

“Good night!” You said overly chirpily before yanking the covers up to your hot cheeks, not daring to look over your shoulder.

“G’night, Sunshine,” you heard him say quietly before he switched off the lamp on the bedside table.

——

The celebrations were continued the next day of course. Though this time it was for their closest friends and family only, John had assured you when you’d asked if the crowd was going to be as big as it had been the night before.

Charlotte’s family had wanted to give the couple one last send off before their honeymoon, which came in the form of a garden party in the afternoon.

“Need to give the guests enough time to recover from their hangovers, save face,” John had joked.

“It’ll be hair of the dog, more like,” you’d snorted.

You and John had woken up early enough to spend the free morning together, deciding to grab breakfast nearby before heading into the viper’s nest again.

You spent the time waiting for your orders to arrive convincing yourself you could get over John once you were back home and able to gain a bit of space – and maybe a distraction. You just needed to get it together, to not fuck up the great friendship you’d made with John over the next twelve hours. Easy.

Never mind the few minutes you’d spent in the middle of the night looking over at his side of the bed, tracing the outline of his shoulders in the dark with your eyes. You’d yearned to reach out and touch, to huddle close for warmth and comfort and to breathe in a lungful of his scent, but you’d refrained. You’d jumped out of bed in the morning when you heard the shower going and took the chance to breathe while you were alone.

You’d waited your turn to tidy up and get ready, saying a quiet hello when you passed each other and doing your best to act like you weren’t gagging for his touch. It was the least you could to to calm yourself in the cold shower until you were able to make eye contact and hold his hand to the nearby café without sweating.

John however was struggling not to do something stupid while sat opposite you across the little café table, his eyes glued to your form, exactly where they’d been glued since you’d first stepped out in your cute sundress.

“Figured there was no point in bringing extra clothes just so I could get changed after brekkie, so I put it on now,” you’d said that morning. “Might’ve gotten away with keeping my pyjamas on if we were eating at the hotel but I wouldn’t want to give your old neighbours anything else to gossip about if they saw us.”

You’d winked playfully and John had swallowed his tongue, nodding like a bobblehead when the words stayed stuck.

And now, with your elbows leant on the table as you tapped away on your phone with both hands, your arms pushed at either side of your chest and made John’s life harder as your cleavagee became so distracting that he’d burnt his tongue and choked on his coffee, twice. He’d managed to swallow back his hiss of pain but felt his cheeks flush red when he realised how ridiculous he was acting.

He was grateful that you’d not noticed his staring and even more so when the waiter brought over your orders with a knowing smirk, grateful to have food to concentrate on and for you to have a reason to move your arms and give your tits a rest from driving him crazy.

Breakfast together was otherwise uneventful, conversation easy as always, and once you’d finished your own strong coffee, the pair of you made you way over to Charlotte and Tom’s new home for their ��intimate garden party’.

Again you wondered why the pair of you had managed to get invited, but the image of John and Charlotte laughing in the low light the evening before answered that question for you. Whether she was still interested like John or not, it was clear their history together meant something to Charlotte and would continue to do so.

With your mood already on edge, it didn’t take much from the other guests to set you off, though with considerably less alcohol served at brunch, both they and you were more subtle with the intrusive questions and returned biting answers.

“Look at you John, doing well since it all went downhill with Charlotte then? Found someone else that likes you for… you?” An old classmate asked as she leant into her husbands snickering side.

“What’s not to like?” You asked bluntly, staring her down until she cleared her throat and looked awkwardly to her partner. “Oh, I see. Jealous some of us didn’t have to settle,” you hummed knowingly as you looked her partner up and down. You’d have felt bad any other day, not one to judge quickly, but it turned out John was a sore spot for your usually light temper and your patience wore thin at his expense. Ignoring her offended scoff, you visibly brightened as trays of food began to be set out on a nearby table. “Oh John, look. They finally brought out the snacks.”

“What are we waiting for then?” He encouraged with a teasing nudge and the pair of you walked away from his old classmate without a further word.

You continued your sarcastic and caustic approach to the other guests for the next hour, only easing up politely if John didn’t immediately stiffen at the sight or sound of them.

Maybe John wasn’t yours, but you still felt a duty to be protective of him, as a friend and his current fake girlfriend. No one else seemed to step in when given the chance, and your role meant you could be as catty as you wanted without raising suspicion. So you took advantage and let out your frustration.

John couldn’t have complained, happy enough to watch you; the sharp smile you sent to the prying guests so different to the soft one you’d share with him a moment later. He was happy to see someone stand up for him without fail and brag about him as if the last six years hadn’t been a complete waste.

Even if you’d gotten a little creative with your bragging as the party went on.

“We were visiting Scarborough for the day,” you said to his aunt and two other older ladies that had been sucked in to your stories. You’d started lying halfway through the gathering just to see if anyone would call you out, to see just how far you could go that they’d still believe you. It had been tricky keeping his face straight as he listened but you were clearly having fun with it, so he wasn’t going to stop you, especially when it painted him in a flattering light. Most of the time. “We were walking along the cliff edge when we heard a shout from up ahead, and John being John he had to go investigate.”

The ladies cooed.

“Someone had fallen over the wall trying to take a photo of the dolphins,” you said dramatically, wide eyed and pausing to let your small audience gasp. “John didn’t even hesitate to jump in himself to help. Think he shaved ten years off of my life that day,” you said and lightly slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

“Couldn’t let the bloke drown,” John said humbly.

“The pair of you were left bobbing in the bloody water until they could fish you out!” You laughed, only encouraged when his aunt laughed along. John shook his head at you with a hidden smile, this one teasing him more than anything. “You were freezing by time they got you back on land.”

“What were you thinking?” His aunt asked with worry.

“Didn’t have time to think of how I was getting back up, did I?” He asked you with a fake pout.

You squeezed his cheeks and cooed. “You were a hero in my eyes, resemblance to a wet cat or not,” you snickered.

John felt his chest ache with the idea of having this with you all the time; not just for his family and Charlotte’s benefit, not just for a long weekend.

Christ, when he thought back to how much he’d been enjoying his time away from work this last month with you, how easy it was to push the important things aside for you, to prioritise the fun stuff or just the simple domestic things that made your life a little easier… He felt a pang of guilt that he wasn’t able to do that sooner for Charlotte, not because he wanted it with her, but because he’d put her through years or waiting for it to never come. It wasn’t her, and it wasn’t anything you’d done either.

It was simply that he’d finally been able to do it, years too late and yet just in time.

And thinking of Charlotte moving on with Tom, finally getting what she deserved; the attention, the love, and the possible family. None of that brought hurt with it like it would have when he first received the invitation. It didn’t bring jealousy or seething regret, just happiness for his ex-wife and her new life. A life he’d have never fitted into.

But this one you were making, fabricating? He could gladly settle in and make home there. You made things easy in a way he couldn’t fathom.

But telling you this seemed impossible.

How could he tell you he was no longer mourning his past life, instead looking towards a brighter future now that he’d come to terms with how he and Charlotte weren’t meant to be. Seeing her face to face had been the splash of ice cold water needed for him to see clearly. And maybe you and him weren’t meant to be either, but god did he just want to try for the first time in years.

He swallowed thickly as you brought your story to an end, rubbing his arm and looking at him too adoringly, it felt undeserved.

“I’m not the one that saved that baby rabbit though, am I?” he said, starting his own story. Though this one was real, and something you’d mentioned to him once in passing, something he knew you’d never have expected him to remember. “Found it in your garden injured so you nursed it back to health for a week, took time off work to do it even, and then let it go in the nearby park.”

“You remember that?” you asked, disbelief written clear as day over your face. You stared at him without blinking, a smile wanting to pull at your lips.

“‘Course I do,” he said simply. “Remember everything you tell me.”

You let the smile break then, ducking your head bashfully and leaning heavily into his arm. He leant in to kiss the crown of your head, glad that his impulses only helped to sell the lie.

“I’m going to go grab a snack,” you said and cleared your throat. You tried to avoid John’s eyes but they flickered up without permission, a magnet to his own. “I’ll get you your favourites,” you promised.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he said softly.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you got to the canapés table. You needed to reign it in, stop getting sucked in by blue eyes and rich voice.

“Never bloody filling enough,” you outwardly complained as you piled the snacks high on your plate. “Smaller than baby bites,” you huffed under your breath as you picked up a cube of cheese and ate it as you went along.

You heard a small laugh and turned to your right, eyes widening when you saw Shirl, John’s mum.

“They are quite silly in practice,” she admitted, gesturing to the small portions. She looked over her shoulder. “Though they look very nice plated like this.”

You snorted and moved to join her further up the table.

“Don’t tell anyone but we’re on our third plate,” you stage whispered, hooking a thumb back at John.

Shirley smiled indulgently. “Rich is on his third serving by himself. I wouldn’t worry.”

You laughed and looked back at John’s dad as he stood with John, slapping his son’s shoulder and nodding along as he spoke.

“You’re lovely together,” Shirley suddenly said. “I wasn’t sure at first. But you both seem good for one another, or at least you seem good for him.”

You watched her for a moment, how her gaze fluttered over the crowd as she sipped at her drink. Hair of the dog for Shirl too it seemed.

“Thank you.” You smiled genuinely when she looked at you out of the corner of her eye. “Lizzy not attending?”

Shirley sighed, happy for the topic change. She leant close and kept her gaze shrewd for any listening ears. “Too hung over to even get out of bed. God knows what people will think tomorrow.”

“Oh I simply couldn’t imagine,” you simpered along with a smirk.

——

“Quite the woman you’ve managed to catch for yourself,” Richard said as he came to stand by his son’s side.

“Yeah, she’s great,” John said as he watched you. He shifted with the weight of his father’s palm slapping his shoulder.

“‘Great’ he says,” his dad huffed with humour. “She’s a keeper, John.”

John shifted uneasily and nodded. Suddenly the weight of the lie settled heavily and uncomfortably over him, more prevalent now than all weekend and it dried his throat. He checked his watch and cleared his throat.

“Think we’ll need to be off soon,” he said. “To beat the traffic and all that.”

“You’ll be wanting a good night’s sleep for work tomorrow, I assume,” his dad agreed. “It was nice seeing you, son.”

John looked to his dad and took a deep breath. He spoke as he shook his dads hand tightly. “You too, dad.”

——

You turned at the tap on your arm and smiled when John was at your side once more.

“Got you the last of the little sausage rolls,” you said cheerily and he kissed your temple in thanks.

“We’ve got to get going, didn’t realise the time,” John said apologetically and turned to his mum with a close lipped smile.

“Oh, shame,” she hummed. She put her drink on the table and pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t leave it so long between visits next time. I’d like to see her again some time soon.”

She nodded to you over his shoulder and John swallowed past the guilt for a second time.

“I promise,” he lied.

“Come on, let’s scoff these as we say a quick good bye to everyone, John,” you suggested and let him lead you around the guests.

By time the pair of you got to Charlotte and Tom you’d finished your plate, but you were remiss for not having anything in your hands to keep them busy. Instead you had to try and keep them still as you watched with a little anxiety as John shook Tom’s hand and gave Charlotte a hug, wishing them well with what you could almost believe was a real smile on his face if you didn’t know better.

“It was great catching up, Lottie,” John said as he hooked his arm back around your waist. “Lovely party.”

“I’m so glad you both came,” Charlotte said, looking between the pair of you.

“Thanks for inviting us,” you added.

John didn’t linger; with a wave, he led you away and you felt him squeeze your hip as if to comfort himself.

With one last goodbye to his family, including Lizzy who had finally managed to fight past her hangover to turn up fashionably late, you climbed into his car with your bags in the boot.

You were uncharacteristically silent for the first part of the drive and it had the journey feeling a little melancholic, something John picked up on immediately.

His eyes cut across to you gazing out of the window, your hands folded in your lap, legs turned towards the door. His lips pursed at the shut off body language and he switched on the radio, skipping stations until he found an old rock song. Feeling his lips twitch he turned it up with another scant look your way to gauge your reaction and started singing along out of tune.

Your eyebrows rose at the sudden burst from his speakers and the sound of his scratchy singing voice, and you bit back a surprised smile as you turned to watch him. You snorted but joined in as soon as it hit the more familiar chorus, falling into his contagious spirit easily and drumming your hands on the dashboard when the heavy drum solo hit.

You couldn’t help but laugh when John took the chance at a red light to play the air guitar, head banging in time and biting his lip in concentration as if actually playing the tricky chords. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness however that all of this was temporary; coming to an end as soon as you reached home in a few hours.

You turned your sad eyes down and played the air keyboard dramatically to keep his suspicion waylaid; stating the instrument was your specialty when John commented on your questionable finger technique.

——

When he finally pulled up in front of your house several hours and a few stops later, you both sat there and looked at your front door in silence without moving.

He saw you fiddle with the strap of your handbag nervously, picking and scratching with your thumb nail.

He cleared his throat softly before breaking the silence. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You took a moment before giving him a weak smile. “Just know how shit it is to watch someone you care about be in love with someone else,” you settled on with a shrug. You felt pathetic about your month-old crush, especially in comparison to the hurt John was guaranteed to have been feeling at that moment.

He frowned and nodded slowly, trying to piece together what you may have meant. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell you that he didn’t feel that way about Charlotte anymore. That he’d realised he was over her this weekend while with you; but he hesitated, closed his mouth with a clack. Because this was just a favour to you wasn’t it? There were no real feelings on your end, right? It’d be wrong of him to put that on you now after the emotional exhaustion of lying to his family and supporting him through it. Selfish of him even.

But what did you mean you knew how it felt?

You watched him struggle for a moment and felt your heart ache when he said nothing; entirely unsurprised, and yet knowing he didn’t feel the same didn’t change how much it hurt to have it confirmed.

“Thanks for inviting me, John,” you said as sweet as you could manage. “I had a really good time.”

“Despite my family’s best efforts,” he joked weakly.

You rolled your eyes playfully. In a moment of weakness you reached out for his hand and squeezed it where it rested on his thigh.

“You know, I’m going to miss hanging out, just me and you,” you admitted, regretting it when John’s eyes turned sad. You spoke before he could have to chance to share false platitudes with you that maybe you’ll stay in touch; this was a favour, no more no less. You’d completed your end, there was no reason to drag out the inevitable, not when he didn’t need the fake dates as ‘proof’ anymore. “You’re a great guy, she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

He blinked and in a flash you were out of the car, door slamming with finality behind you as you jogged across the clear road.

Seeing you slip through his fingers in real time brought that feeling of an empty pit back in his stomach, but this time it wasn’t regret for something he couldn’t change or yearning for someone already out of reach.

“Chris’sake, I’m a grown fucking man,” he cursed himself out as he shouldered his way out of the car. He owed you the effort of trying at least.

John called after you, a shout of your name he didn’t often use, and you turned in surprise before you opened your front door. He saw the glassy tint to your eyes and felt his heart clench. Without thinking he blurted out the first thing that came to mind that might stop you for just a moment longer, “I still owe you the money we agreed on.” Your expression shuttered, shoulders stiffening, and he rounded his car quickly, needing to be closer with no barriers. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I meant to say, love. Wait.”

You stayed silent as you watched him on the other side of the dead road.

He paused to gather his racing thoughts.

“I don’t love my ex-wife anymore, or not how I did. Haven’t for a while I think; just loved the idea of her, the memory of what we had, the familiarity of it.” He swallowed thickly. “Think I loved fucking wallowing because I was used to it, ‘nd it was easier than admitting I’d been wrong and having to put myself out there again to get hurt a second time ‘round.”

He checked the road before making his way closer as you wrapped your arms around yourself, tight and self-comforting.

“But these last couple of days… This last month; Sunshine, I got closure I didn’t know I needed but more than that I realised I want more than what I’ve been letting myself have. I want you.”

“John,” you finally spoke hoarsely. You shook your head.

“The time we’ve spent together recently… They’ve been some of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” He stepped forward and reached for your hands but you kept them folded away. “I want to feel that way again, every day that I can, with you.”

“I saw the way you looked at her,” you said gently, as if breaking to him that he still loved Charlotte. “You were laughing together at the end of the reception like it was your wedding.”

John huffed in disbelief. The fucking irony.

“Yeah because she told me how lucky I was to have a firecracker like you by my side,” he said with a laugh. “Not because I was trying to get her back. She’s pregnant, Sunshine, that ship has sailed.”

You felt your heart drop when realisation set in. “So I’m a consolation prize.”

“No,” he denied vehemently, eyes wide and horrified. “No, that’s not what I meant, bloody hell.”

He wiped a hand over his beard roughly, feeling you drift away word by word. He was fucking this up.

“Seeing her like that,” he started carefully. “I understand now that I didn’t want her back in the first place, not really.” At your doubtful look he continued on. “I don’t feel any jealousy or regret and not being the one starting a family with her; I just want to be happy like she is. And, Sunshine, it’s you that makes me happy like that.”

You looked at him with watery eyes, hope glistening in his own as his hand hovered by your hip.

You were quiet for a moment as you gathered your thoughts. John had flipped everything you’d felt, everything you’d thought you’d known about the last few days on its head and now you were stuck outside your house in the cold as the sun set, his confession heavy and waiting.

You felt cornered. It didn’t feel genuine, you still thought he was doing this out of some delayed sense of desperation and rejection. Clinging onto the first available woman after seeing Charlotte move on completely.

You liked John, a lot, and at any other time you’d have likely been jumping for joy hearing him say all of this. But you thought you knew him pretty well by now, and you weren’t going to make yourself unhappy by being second choice to help ease his bruised ego.

“I’m not looking for anything right now, John. Sworn off dating, remember?” You reminded him of your first conversation in that café, something that felt so long ago.

John became quiet for a moment, considering your soft rejection and trying to come to terms with it. He nodded and took a step back, his hand dropped back to his side.

“If you do start looking again, you’ve got my number,” he offered softly.

Your breath hitched and you nodded. You looked away and wiped at your face roughly when a tear fell. In a split decision you leant up and kissed his cheek before turning back and closing the door behind you.

did a little moodboard for this fic when i was stuck,, kept reader off it, the people in it are optional oc representation

#part 5 is majority done so i should’ve get that out in feb #not sure how happy i am with this chapter butttttt it might just be bc i thought it was a little boring ?? :// idk idk #fun stuff next chapter tho tee hee #john price x reader #price x reader #fat reader #trans john price

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mullermilkshake · 2 months ago

Text

Yandere Satoru Gojo

@ellavdrea

Yandere!Satoru Gojo x Reader MINORSDNI 🔞 = Tags: Yandere!Gojo, au with cursed energy, graphic depictions of violence and bodily harm, death, manipulation, physical/ psychological abuse.

Satoru had enough of your shit.

The countless obscenities and hits to his face as you thrashed around because your will simply refused to be compliant. He could take that. He did take that.

But what he couldn’t abide was your countless, albeit rare attempts to leave him.

Him. Like he was riddled with an infectious illness or something. Or perhaps he was just that unlikable that you couldn’t bare to be in the same room as him. Satoru was far more than just likeable, he could ask anyone and he’d get the answer he wanted.

He was amazing.

You just refused to see what was right in front of you because you were that stubborn.

“Get off of me!”

You pulled and tugged, clawing at the back of his hand that held so tight like you would vanish if he didn’t.

“Don’t fight this.” He said, fuming purely at the fact that this time, you almost made it impossible for him to find you. Like a mole underground who hung tight until the fox had passed.

Well, Satoru was more intelligent than a cunning fox, he was more of a blood hound and sniffing your scent drove him wild.

“I will fight this- trust me, I’ll get out again and you’ll never find me you son of a bitch!”

As clever as you thought you were, there was always a trail you left behind, no matter how faint. Whether it be a scrap of your cursed energy you didn’t know you had or just that Satoru happened to be in the right place and right time, he always found you.

It’s just that this time was a close call. And there wasn’t going to be a second chance for that to happen again.

Not ever.

Satoru yanked you close and noticed your strained wince immediately. “I’ve told you time and time again that this isn’t an option. But you never listen.”

Now Satoru couldn’t just leave you alone in the house even if he did essentially baby proof it ten times over to prevent you stepping a foot outside.

You’d find some weak point eventually like an octopus squeezing through a hole the size of its eye, you were just as slippery.

Some days he’d be out the whole day, his life still rolling over despite you waiting at home. The daily stressors of sorcerer life put his patience to a tether that almost severed with you regularly.

“I don’t listen because you’re fucking crazy-“

You managed to move your hand and swing for his face, though you knew just as well as Satoru did. His infinity around most of his body was never lowered.

Especially around you.

He didn’t react to it and pulled you down the hallway, the soles of your shoes squeaking on the wood which bellowed your temper toward him. Satoru didn’t have a temper as such, he could make you do whatever he wanted when the occasion called for it. However his strength out matched you like a bulldozer to a sheet of paper.

You were delicate and Satoru worked hard to control how much force he used so he didn’t end up doing permanent damage. But he held out in the hope that you would eventually want to do things with him without coercion or unnecessary force.

“You have no idea how shit filled the world is. You’d be begging to stay with me if you actually knew what was out there.”

To date, oddly enough you had never reacted to low level curses Satoru used to test just how much you knew about his own world.

You knew nothing, or you were an excellent liar. Either way, the only thing that was truly special about you was your cursed energy. The energy itself was unaware of its own presence.

It’s what drew him to you in the first place.

That was a year ago.

Since then it was all still a daily uphill battle.

“Bullshit would I- Satoru let me go!” Your shrill scream became raspy and broken like a tantrum from a child that compared to you acted far more mature.

So for Satoru’s own piece of mind, what you needed was a room with no windows and one door in and out.

Then he’d know where you were at all times.

Which translated to the basement.

And you hated the basement.

Though what choice did he have?

As soon as you knew where Satoru was taking you, the disgusted glare and gritted teeth switched for something far more upsetting.

“No. No, no, no, I’m not going down there!”

“You’re not giving me a choice.”

Standing in the doorway, Satoru took you by the shoulders and even pulled his blindfold down to show how serious he was. “You fight me every step of the way when I’m only trying to do well by you. There’s so much shit out there and you don’t even know how bad things can get.”

You said nothing, but your eyes were so wide they were watering. Satoru took this as a chance to continue. “I love you. And you don’t see it. I care for you, and you don’t see it. I only want what’s best for you and you don’t fucking see it.”

“And shoving me down in the basement is what’s best for me?”

Was it rhetorical? Satoru didn’t care. “Yes. It is.”

There was no way to protect yourself when you couldn’t see curses. Especially with the odd cursed energy you were emitting.

And if Suguru got a hold of you, Satoru dreaded to think.

And then as though a switch turned you back on, you struggled again. “I’m not going down there!”

“Yes you are.” He had to be careful not to hurt you.

“Fuck you!”

“You’re going down there. End of- be careful on the stairs or you’ll fall-“

“I hope I do-“

“Don’t say that.” His voice was so gruff, almost angry. You were trying his patience way too much saying things like that.

“I hope I fall and break my neck then I wouldn’t have to deal with you-“

“I said stop it… stop-“

You lost your footing, whether it was intentional, Satoru couldn’t gauge it and in his profound shock, he didn’t react in time to catch you. He watched you in slow motion and then time sped up, your pretty little neck hit every step in the way down into the dark pit of the basement void.

He blinked and registered. Moving in a blink to capture you in his arms by the third step from the bottom.

“Hey.”

You were limp, eyes closed. Your cursed energy bubbling beyond the surface like a boiling pot, nothing unusual only that you weren’t breathing.

“Wait… wake up.” He said, shaking you ever so slightly. “Wake up right now.”

It was as though you were joking, playing a game with him to get what you wanted and scare the living daylights out of him.

“Wake up right now!”

This time he shook you, teeth gritted hard together and your shattered neck jiggled your head about with his movement. Your slender neck just that little bit longer when he realised is was really broken and this wasn’t a joke of yours.

“No… wake up now.” He could’t heal you, only Shoko could do that.

Was it too late? Had death already consumed you that you would refuse to come back?

“Please… don’t leave.” His breaths were heavy, cumbersome.

And you were just lifeless.

Then, you weren’t.

It was your cursed energy that Satoru recognised, wisping about your body almost like it was weaving together. And then you twitched again, then jolted about in Satoru’s arms until you screamed right by his ear so guttural and primal that it even drew his head back from you.

Yet still he kept a hold of you, eyes wider than they had ever been and in shock at your reanimation.

Until now, Satoru had never seen anything like it. Suguru would most definitely dig his claws into you so deep if he realised just how special you had become in just a matter of seconds. A matter of seconds and everything had just changed. Your need for protection and risk factors had risen exponentially.

Satoru was sure you were still human too and not like the undead he had seen in movies. You were still… you, from what he could tell.

You huffed and heaved and coughed against him, opening your eyes with such panic took Satoru’s breath away from his chest as he held it. The fabric of his shirt squeezed between the joints of your fingers as though you would never let go.

Like you needed him.

You actually needed him.

“Hey- wait it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Satoru held you close and for just a minute, you leant into him and sobbed.

“I’m here, baby.”

Satoru shouldn’t have said that. You glared up at him with a face full of thunder, pushing away from him in an instant. “You fucking pushed me, you monster!”

He initially blinked at your sudden furious gaze, but got a hold of your wrists quick enough before you could through them around.

“I didn’t push you. You slipped-“

“Like hell I did- how am I even talking right now? You pushed me and it hurt!”

How on earth was your cursed energy so volatile that it repaired you without your say on reverse curse technique? You healed yourself at an exceptional rate and were none the wiser to it.

“I didn’t push you, do you hear me?” Taking you by the shoulders seemed to stop the messy haze you were in. “I would never do that.”

But this incident got you clinging to him like he was your favourite person in the world, even if it was just for a minute.

One minute was more time than you had bothered to give Satoru. Ever.

That minute alone would have been enough to get him by for the next few hours before he would want it again, going down a slippery slope he had inevitably opened without realising.

Your voice was broken. “You did- you did do it.”

“I didn’t.”

“Get away from me!”

“I didn’t fucking push you.”

You really weren’t going to let go of this, were you? Even experiencing something as traumatic as you just did.

“Oh really? Then why did I see you just looking at me as I fell and you left me there unconscious!

You didn’t even know the extent of your injuries.

A little spark ignited in his head when he saw how distressed you were. Satoru could use this to his advantage. It was sick, but perhaps this was his way to put an end to your bratty attitude. That feral flame needed extinguishing.

“If you think that I would intentionally hurt you, then you don’t know me at all.”

Your anger shifted back to that of upset and distress, sobbing over your words and gripping a hold of his shirt more aggressively.

“I don’t, that’s the point. I-I don’t want to know you and I don’t want to be here. I want to go home and have a normal life without you lurking around every corner and breathing down my neck all the time!”

This wasn’t unexpected news to Satoru, yet it hurt just as much as if it was. Were you really that repulsed by his presence? Satoru found himself questioning everything and that little poisonous thought burrowed deeper into his brain like a parasite.

If you were unaware then it could be used against you. ‘I wouldn’t ever do that…’ those words held less meaning than when they were spoken aloud.

And if you were to fall down those stairs again, it was entirely logical that you would look at Satoru that way again and sob into his chest.

“Get up.” He said, his expression dropping to numb his horrid thoughts.

Everything had changed. Everything had gotten far darker than he even could have imagined. Your eyes were wide, almost deer like with anticipation of his response.

“Get up.” Satoru softened his tone and it seemingly worked enough to allow you to your feet. So there was no issue with your joints either after taking damage from the impact.

Satoru took to the steps first and waited. Waited until you reached the top behind him all timid and silent.

Then he pushed you.

Your body hitting each step like before and your cursed energy working its way around the body and clicked everything back into place.

He wondered what else your body could take and whether he really had to hold back and be gentle with you anymore.

After that, each time you reanimated, you clung to Satoru just that fraction longer. Every time a slither of your will broke and soon enough, you would be compliant enough to have the privilege of being left on your own again.

In time.

EDIT: ALSO forgot to add, if you’d like anymore Yandere Satoru Gojo or other characters please check out my AO3 where I post all my long stuff and one shots like “sealed fate” which is exclusively Yandere/ dark one shots.

Take care!!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #x reader #reader insert #yandere #yandere jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader

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ruewrote · 3 months ago

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𝑖 𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑛.

PAIRING: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader WARNINGS: ignorance, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: keep that to yourself by tristan WORD COUNT: 1.5k

navigation | ask | boku no hero academia masterlist

you were done. completely, utterly done. you weren’t about to keep bending over backwards for someone who couldn’t be bothered to meet you halfway.

katsuki had been late to dinner before, hell, he’d been late to everything since the day you started dating him, but tonight was different. the irritation had been building for weeks and all it took was the sound of him slamming through the door without so much as a greeting to set you off.

you didn’t look up from your phone as he stormed in, his hero gear clattering onto the couch. every time he came in late, you used to ask him how his day went, try to ease his mood, but you were tired of this petty routine. you weren’t his emotional punching bag nevermind his damn therapist.

so you stayed silent, continuing to scroll through your feed, ignoring him as thoroughly as he’d been ignoring you. you didn’t even bother setting the table. he could find his own damn plate if he cared that much.

“long day?” you finally asked, your voice flat, barely caring enough to acknowledge him.

“yeah,” bakugou grunted, not even sparing you a glance as he rummaged through the fridge for something to drink. “like usual.”

you raised an eyebrow, glancing at the cold, untouched dinner you’d made hours ago, just sitting there on the counter. he didn’t ask about it. didn’t even ask if you’d eaten. typical.

after slamming the fridge door shut, he chugged half a bottle of water, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and started back off towards the door again.

“where are you going?” you asked, voice sharp.

he paused but didn’t turn around. “gotta train,” he said over his shoulder, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

your jaw clenched. of course.

you exhaled slowly, keeping your voice calm despite the rising anger. “you just got home and now you’re leaving again?”

bakugou finally turned to face you, his eyebrows knitted together in irritation. “i can’t slack off. i gotta get stronger, you know this.”

you laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “right. because that’s all that matters, huh?”

he glared at you. “what the hell’s your problem? i’m doing what i normally do.”

“can you just stay with me? just this once?”

“you know i can't.”

you stood up from the couch, setting your phone down with more force than necessary. “i’m not asking you to slack off. i’m asking you to actually treat me like i exist. but sure, go ahead. go and train. clearly, it’s more important than me.”

bakugou scowled, clearly not expecting a fight tonight. “don’t start with this shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “i’m busting my ass out there, doing what i need to do. i don’t have time to coddle you.”

your eyes narrowed, the final thread of your patience snapping. coddle? is he serious?

you stepped forward, staring him down. “i’m not asking you to coddle me, katsuki. i’m asking you to give a damn. you come in late, don’t say a word, leave without even acknowledging me, do you even realize how selfish you’re being?”

he rolled his eyes, clearly getting annoyed. “i’m selfish? you’re the one whining because i’ve got real shit to do. you know what it’s like out there, so why the hell are you making this about you?”

the arrogance, the complete lack of awareness, it was almost laughable. but you weren’t laughing. you were done holding your tongue. done waiting for him to magically understand.

“no, katsuki,” you said, voice cold. “you’re the one making this about you. it’s always about you. your work, your training, your goals. meanwhile, i’m here, putting up with your bullshit, and i don’t get so much as a thank you.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off.

“y’know what?” you snapped, crossing your arms. “i don’t need this. i don’t need you. you’re so damn convinced that you’re doing me a favor just by being in my life, but here’s a reality check, i’m here because i choose to be. not because i have to. i’m not some trophy girlfriend who’s just going to stick around while you treat me like shit and if you think that then you’re fucking wrong.”

bakugou's eyes flashed with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “i don’t need to deal with this right now.”

you stared at him for a long moment, your chest tightening with a surge of cold. for a second, you’d almost expected him to fight for you. but this? this was all he had to offer you?

“okay.”

you turned on your heel and started walking toward the bedroom, your movements calm and deliberate. you didn’t slam the door. didn’t shout or cry or plead. just…walked away.

“wait, what the hell are you doing?” his voice echoed from behind you, but you didn’t stop. didn’t even look back.

bakugou stayed rooted to the spot, watching you disappear down the hallway. there was something different about you tonight, something that made his chest tighten with the slightest hint of unease. you didn’t yell at him. didn’t hurl insults or throw anything. just a simple, calm okay.

that wasn’t normal. that wasn’t you.

bakugou cursed under his breath, stalking after you, but when he reached the bedroom door, he froze.

you were packing. calmly, methodically, pulling clothes out of drawers and folding them into a suitcase. your movements were so deliberate, so precise, like you weren’t even upset. like you’d already made up your mind.

“oi.” his voice came out rough, harsher than he intended. “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

you didn’t even look up. “i’m leaving, katsuki.”

he blinked, staring at you like you’d just slapped him. “the fuck you are,” he growled, stepping into the room. “you’re not goin’ anywhere.”

you didn’t respond, simply continuing to pack your things. each item folded with care, each movement speaking louder than any argument you could’ve had. you weren’t making a scene. you were making a statement.

bakugou’s heart started to pound in his chest, he wasn’t used to this. you were always the one who’d argue, push him, try to get him to open up. but this quiet, collected version of you? it scared the hell out of him.

“i’m serious,” he said, voice wavering slightly. “stop.”

you paused for a moment, glancing over at him with cold, detached eyes. “why should i?”

he opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. he didn’t have an answer. not one that would make sense. not one that didn’t sound selfish as hell.

you let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking your head. “that’s what i thought.”

bakugou stood there, frozen, his mind racing. you weren’t bluffing. he could see it in the way you moved, in the way you didn’t hesitate. you were serious. dead serious.

“damn it,” he muttered, stepping forward. “look, just…stop for a second. we can talk about this.”

you shook your head, zipped up the suitcase and dragged it off of the bed. “i already tried talking. you didn’t listen.”

“oi, i listen–”

“no, katsuki,” you interrupted, your voice sharp now. “you don’t. i’ve been telling you for weeks how i feel, and you’ve ignored me. i’ve waited, and waited, and all you’ve done is prove that i don’t matter. that this doesn’t matter.”

his eyes widened, panic flickering across his face. “that’s not–”

“it is,” you snapped, your voice finally cracking with anger. “and you know what? i’m done waiting for you to figure it out. i’m done trying to prove to you that i deserve better.”

bakugou’s breath hitched, you were actually going to leave. he could see it now. see the determination in your eyes, the way you didn’t even hesitate.

“wait– just…wait,” he muttered, stepping closer, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides.

“don’t go.”

you sighed, your eyes softening just a fraction. “give me one good reason why i should stay.”

he opened his mouth, but for the first time in his life, words failed him. his usual arrogance, his stubborn pride, it all felt so small, so insignificant in the face of losing you.

“i…” he swallowed hard, his voice hoarse. “i need you.”

you raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move, waiting for him to continue.

“i know i’m a shitty boyfriend sometimes,” he admitted, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “but i need you. i just…i didn’t realize how much until now.”

you stood there for a long moment, eyes locked with his, weighing his words. he looked so uncharacteristically vulnerable, so desperate, like he was finally starting to understand.

“i’ll do better,” he added quickly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i swear, i’ll try harder. just…don’t leave.”

silence hung heavy in the air, the weight of his words sinking in.

finally, you exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly. “no,” you said firmly, looking him in the eyes.

“you should’ve done better, katsuki. i’ve been giving you all these chances, and you threw them away. you don’t get to promise me better after treating me like i’m practically invisible.”

he blinked, stepping forward. “but i’m saying i’ll change–”

you cut him off. “it’s too late.”

"i may be the one that's leaving but you're the one that walked out on us."

with one final glance, you grabbed your suitcase and walked out the door.

and this time, katsuki didn’t stop you.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

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sinstear · 6 months ago

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ㅤ❝ 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 ❞

designer!abby spends all her time, or as much time as she possibly can in her shop, making sure everything is perfect, nothing out of place, or untidy that will annoy her and send her into a spiral of stress. her blue bright eyes always doing double glances at the mannequins in the window and around the room, displayed with old and new designs. some that took her hours, meanwhile some that she spent months perfecting. the small details that had her hands hurting and fingers cramping with the amount of patience and time she spent crafting what was once a rough sketch in her many books, to real life.

the lights make it more beautiful as she just leans her body on the counter, and takes everything in. this was her life. something that started out as a hobby one day in her childhood, and has become her job. small diamonds embroidered around the waistband of the new design she came up with, a slim silk dress, that sparkles when the light catches perfectly, her lips curve up into a smile and she can’t help but giggle. she did that.

designer!abby completely spaces out during measurements. her fingers work delicately against the fabric, her glasses slip down to the bridge of her nose, flyaway hairs sticking to her forehead, skin glistening with sweat, and a sweet hum of something she hears on the radio fills the subtle silence. too into making something new that she didn’t even register the ding of the bell above the door ringing when someone walked in. didn’t even feel the cold rush of air as her brows furrowed and tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth, deep in thought.

well, that was until the soft sound of someone clearing their throat behind her made her turn around.

turning around … more like dropping her scissors and holding her chest in panic. not aware anyone was in here. the glasses on her nose slip more as she pants like she just ran a fucking marathon.

“sorry, sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you. you just looked really focused, didn’t want to ruin it” they apologized quickly, holding a hand over their mouth to stop the giggles that came out when abby slumped against the counter with a small nod. “m’sorry”

a crimson blush coats the apples of her cheeks before she can stop it, the warmth in her skin is so hot that she feels like she’s going to burst into flames any second. “s’okay” the blonde giggled nervously, pulled her glasses off and slipped them into the pocket of her jacket before clearing her throat. “can i help you with anything?”

“i’ve always been too scared to come in here”

she knows, she sees you looking through the window everyday, or mostly everyday. she doesn’t have to ask to know who you are. you’re all over the tv, the internet, with your gorgeous dresses and different pieces of jewelry at each event you attend. but she doesn’t say anything, she just politely smiles and tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “you’re always welcome to come in, you know?”

“everything in here is just so pretty, and you are precise with everything. quite perfect” you whispered, too scared to say it louder in case you scared her.

“it’s not, m’not that good” abby stammered, cheeks flushing a darker red at the praise.

“bullshit, i’ve seen what you do. read every article about the new designs you’ve come up with. everything you make is perfect. m’too scared to buy anything because your designs are so detailed, so creative and beautiful. i admire them. i admire you”

turning around to hide her blush, the blonde cleared her throat again and carefully placed her scissors and measuring tape back in her small sewing kit. your words had her feeling like a teenager, too scared to say or do anything that might make her make a fool of herself. so she stuck with simple, “is there anything you want to try on?”

“i noticed your jewellery. i really like the silver diamond necklace you made”

“oh?” her voice cracked slightly, suddenly too nervous. her body turned around slowly to find you a lot closer than before. “do you want you try it on?”

“yes, please”

you studied abby as she made her way behind the counter, huffing and grumbling under her breath about something along the lines of i really need to tidy up around here before looking up, a silent okay for you to come over. thankfully you haven’t noticed the deep blush she’s been sporting since you opened your mouth and watched you place your purse on the glass and looked at all the jewellery with wide, yet sparkly eyes.

“people tend to go for the clothes, the necklaces? not so much” she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders lightly as she carefully placed the necklace on the counter beside your purse. eyeing you up subtly.

before you could pick it up, abby was already sighing and shaking her head. “what’s wrong?” your voice soft and sultry like honey.

“sorry, i just don’t think silver would work”

“why?”

“i think gold would suit you better. it brings out the brightness of your eyes, and it would look really pretty on you” abby really? she scolded herself while you looked away with a shy smile. “m’sorry, i don’t usually tell people what they should and shouldn’t wear”

“do you think so? the gold?”

“of course”

the next few minutes slowed down for you both, one minute she was admiring you from behind the counter and the next she was standing right behind you, placing the necklace around your neck and clasping it together. her blush returns quite quickly at the sound of your breath hitching in your throat once her fingers graze your skin, soft and gentle to the touch.

“how does it look?” you asked, breaking the utter silence that surrounded you both. her eyes were glued to the necklace around your neck when you spun around to get her opinion. this time you spotted the blush on her face and giggled at her. “does it look okay?”

“s’really pretty” abby nodded quickly, unaware of the way you were smiling at her. “it suits you much better than the silver. it goes really well with your eyes, like i said, gold brings out the brightness of them” she smiled, fumbling with the fabric of her jacket sleeve.

“thank you. how much is it?”

“oh, no. consider it my gift to you” the blonde choked out, were you really doing this, abby? pushing your purse away when you went to grab it. “please, take it”

looking at her for a few seconds, you nodded reluctantly with another shy smile. “okay, thank you. really. i promise to keep it safe”

“you’re welcome, and i hope you do” abby smiled, palms suddenly sweaty as she watched you slip your bag over your shoulder and brush your hands down your dress. “i hope you have a really good day” really?

“thank you,” you laughed and held your hand over your mouth. “i hope you do too, abigail”

designer!abby who can’t help but blush and giggle like a goddamn teenager, finally, when that same night you post a picture of the same necklace she gave you, with her account tagged on your social media. orders upon orders coming through her emails quicker than she could keep up with.

#designer!abby #abby anderson #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson drabble

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breadbrobin · 1 year ago

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skipping stones

clarisse la rue x reader — percy jackson and the olympians

summary: it’s been a rough day for you, and clarisse doesn’t know how to help, as much as she wants to try

warnings: none really, just fluff and a little sad slander oops, oh and maybe slightly ooc clarisse as always

word count: 783

(hiiii it’s been a minute. i wrote this after skipping stones at a river for like an hour while my friend sat around next to me and i wanted someone to support me in my skipping endeavours so here we are)

————————————————

clarisse could always find you skipping stones.

you weren’t good at it. hell, you were even bad at it. but that never stopped you.

you’d told her once that it kept you closer to your family, since you hadn’t been able to get back to them since coming to camp two years ago, and you missed them more than words could describe.

she wasn’t even sure how it happened; how you became her best friend at camp, and she became yours, despite your differences.

where she was hard, you were soft. where she was cruel, you were kind. and where she was cold, you were as warm as any fire she’d ever known. warmer, even.

she didn’t even know when those feelings had shifted—from indifference to care, from friendship to love—but it didn’t really matter. what did matter was she could always find you skipping stones. and that’s exactly where you were.

she sat next to you on the shore, staring out at the long island sound ahead of her. you were looking down at the rocks, no doubt searching for your next ones to skip. your knees were bent and pulled to your chest with your arm under your thighs to lean forward. she couldn’t help but smile. if anyone saw she’d be made fun of, but with you, she didn’t care too much. she picked up a flat stone by her foot and nudged you.

you looked up at her with a smile, taking the stone and preparing to skip it. “thanks.” this one skipped maybe three times. she wasn’t really paying attention. her eyes were on your face, mapping your features, the light freckles, the crease between your eyebrows as you searched for another stone. she was watching your hands as you weighed two up before choosing one. she was staring at your lips, seeing them pout, press together, curl into a slight smile as the stone skipped.

“what’s wrong?” she asked.

“do you wanna try?” you extended a flat stone to her, about half the size of her palm. she was tempted to take it and put it in her pocket.

but she shook her head. “i’ve never had enough patience to learn to skip stones. you know that.”

“i do,” you nodded, your lips pressed together again. gods, what she wouldn’t give for those lips to be pressed against hers. “worth a shot.”

you skipped it, pouting as it crashed through a small wave and disappeared into the sea.

“what’s wrong?” clarisse asked again. “you can’t avoid the question forever, n/n.”

“yes, i can,” you said, skipping another rock.

“no. i won’t let you. what is it? did someone mess with you? i’ll kill them—“

you cut her off by laughing. “no, clarisse! no one messed with me, and please don’t commit any crimes in my name.”

“yours is the only name i’d ever commit crimes in,” she said firmly. you believed her. “now, tell me what’s wrong.”

you sighed and looked out at the grey horizon. it wasn’t a beautiful day, but it was warm for early spring and it hadn’t rained yet. “my dad called camp. he wants me to come home.”

“i thought your dad didn’t know where you were.”

“so did i.”

it was silent.

“so, what? he sent you away? that’s bullshit!”

“yeah,” you didn’t drag your eyes from the horizon. your knuckles were tight around a stone in your grip. “it is.”

her red-hot anger died in her throat as she saw your face and the blatant hurt on it. she wasn’t good at comforting people. she was actually really bad. it was easy to comfort clarisse: just let her yell about it and punch things until she feels better. but you… she’d seen you upset before, but never defeated. you looked defeated.

she was stumped.

“do you… do you need, like, a hug?” she offered awkwardly.

a snort escaped your lips. “a hug?”

“yeah! i mean… what do you need? how can i help you?” she asked, trying to save face.

you paused, turning your gaze to look at her face. “a hug would be nice, yeah.”

she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around you. she was worried it’d be awkward, that you’d both be tense and uncomfortable and it would be terrible, but you settled into her arms like you were made to be there. and god you were warm. it was like hugging someone who’d just gotten out of the drier.

“and if this doesn’t help we can throw rocks in the sea and yell about how angry we are,” she suggested after a moment. “that always helps me.”

she took your laughter as a good sign.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #dior goodjohn

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luxurychristmaspudding · 8 months ago

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The Immortals | On Call

summary: frankie tells the boys about you.

pairing: neighbour!frankie morales x f!reader. platonic triple frontier boys (minus tom lol)

ratings/warnings: 18+, MDNI. mostly frankie pov. beers and a bbq. description of a panic attack. the boys shipping the bis.

wc: 2.7k

an: one more little thing before we send these guys off into the sunset <3 p.s. - apologies if you saw this last night - i posted it real late and then decided i hated it this morning lmao. thank you for your patience <3

series masterlist | main masterlist

divider from @saradika-graphics

Arrived safely! Margarita secured!

It’s the last text he has from you, accompanied by a photo of said cocktail held up next to your face as you grin at the camera, eyes lit warmly by the sun. He’s smiling at it, tapping out a fat-thumbed, slow response with the tongs in his other hand, distracted from the grill. So focused on you, he almost doesn’t notice Santi saunter up beside him. Almost, but by then it’s too late anyway.

He looks up at Will’s I swear to god, Fish, if you burn those sausages one more time- just as his phone is snatched from his hand, Pope lurching away as he tries to grab it back.

‘Oh!’ the shorter man yells, ‘I’ve got it! I know why he’s so dis-’ before Frankie yanks the device away from him.

‘Knock it off,’ he grumbles, a little gruffer than he means it to be, but Pope only smiles wider, eyes full of mischief. Frankie stuffs the phone back in his pocket, and miles and miles away, you watch the tiny bubbles of a reply disappear before turning back to your friends.

‘Who is she?’ Santi goads, stepping closer to nudge him with his elbow. ‘Hot date?’

Frankie shakes his head, the tips of his ears warming.

‘Who’s who?’ Will asks from his chair, eyebrow raised as he takes a pull from his beer.

‘No- nothing.’ Frankie says, but his cheeks are aflame as he squints into the smoke of the barbeque. Santi notices, because of course he fucking does, pinching Frankie’s cheek as he coos -

‘Aw, come on, hermano. Who’s the lucky lady?’

Frankie lands a sharp elbow to his ribs, muttering a Fuck off, Pope, and Santi pulls away with a croak.

‘What are we talking about? Who’s Frankie seeing?’ Will pipes up again.

‘Pretty lady’s sent Frankie a selfie,’ Santi grunts, massaging his side. ‘I wanna know who it is.’

Frankie grits his teeth. They know about you - of course they do. They knew about you from the moment you’d moved in. The cool new neighbour, the teacher, the new best friend, the babysitter. And they’d wanted to meet you. Smiling over the stories Frankie would tell them, replying to the pictures he’d send them of cookies, hama beads, Lego cities.

‘We’re just friends,’ he says.

The air is still for a moment before Will snorts.

‘Bullshit.’

Frankie flips him off as Pope looses a gleeful chuckle, returning to his seat and his beer.

‘We’ll wait,’ he says, ‘Plenty of time.’

Benny catches the end of it as he emerges from the back door, hopping down the porch steps with a fresh crate of beers in his hands.

‘Time for what?’ He asks, dropping the box on the grass and cracking one open before bringing it to Frankie.

‘Jesus Christ,’ he groans, taking it from the younger man with a grumbled thank you as he turns back to the grill.

Will and Santi are laughing, watching each other with sparkling eyes over the fire pit.

‘Time for what?’ Benny asks again, looking between the men.

‘Frankie’s got a lady friend. We’re trying to find out who it is.’

Benny swings back around to look at him, eyebrows high on his forehead as a slow smile spreads across his face.

‘Oh?’ He grins, ‘Come on, Fish. We’re all friends here.’

Frankie shakes his head again, eyes fixed on the sausages.

‘She’s not - it’s not - it’s not like that.’

‘So you’re fucking?’

Frankie whirls round to Santi.

‘Pope.’ He hisses, brandishing the tongs at him. Santi holds up his hands.

‘Then what?’

Frankie sighs, lowering the flame on the grill.

‘That’s the neighbour,’ he says, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of your house. ‘It’s her.’

They’re quiet. Too quiet.

‘That’s your neighbour?’ Pope says, dumbfounded.

‘Yes.’

‘But she’s -’

‘I know.’

Will shoots Santi a confused look.

‘Way too good looking for our Fish, here.’

Benny points a finger at him, settling down in his seat the same time as Frankie.

‘I’m taking that personally.’

‘Good.’ Will says. ‘Now, show us a proper picture, asshole.’

Frankie runs a hand over his face, cheeks burning. There’s a funny feeling in his gut - guilt, nerves, excitement. He looks them all over before Santi slaps his knee.

‘Come on, cabròn. We’ve heard so much about her.’

So he shows them. Pictures of you and Lucia, you and him. Ones he took without you realising, moments where he just couldn’t help himself. And his favourite - you on his porch, beaming and squinting at the sunset. Warm and tired and beautiful after the beach, a single strawberry lace dangling from your fingers.

It makes Will chuckle, Benny smile. Santi lets out a low whistle.

‘So there she is.’ Will says, and Frankie can only grin back. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks tinged with pink. The blonde man cocks his head at him. ‘You like her.’

Frankie shrugs.

‘You really like her.’

It’s quiet again for a moment, only the crackle of firewood to be heard.

‘So. Are you fucking?’

The question earns Pope a sharp smack up the back of the head from Benny, Will shooting a Santiago across the flames. But all three of their faces turn back to Frankie.

He looks up to the heavens.

‘No,’ he says. ‘She had that breakup last year. And I don’t even think she’s into me like that.’

Benny laughs into his beer, taking a pull before speaking.

‘No offence,’ he says, ‘But you wouldn’t know someone liked you if it hit you across the face.’

Will snorts, jerking his head in his brother's direction.

‘He should know.’

Frankie groans, leaning back in his chair, scrubbing at his cheeks.

‘She drew the picture on your fridge.’ Benny says. It’s a statement, not a question. Frankie nods. ‘I think she likes you.’

‘You could tell from a picture?’ Will snarks, and Benny rolls his eyes.

‘She drew ‘em all close together. So she either likes you or just - I dunno - likes you. Actually, maybe I have no idea.’

Pope chuckles.

‘Miller, you are a true wordsmith.’

‘Yeah, yeah. Fuck off, Casanova.’

Still laughing, Santi knocks his beer against Frankie’s. He meets his eye.

‘Make sure she can come next time,’ Pope says, and Frankie pulls a face. ‘I’m serious. We’ve been waiting ages to meet her. She sounds cool. She sounds really fun -’

‘And we’ll help you work out whether she likes you or not.’ Will finishes. Frankie looks down at his feet, his shoes in the grass. He fiddles with the label on his bottle, thinks of what it would be like to have you here. Have you laughing at the jokes, swapping stories with the boys. Have Santi teaching you how to dance, have you sharing a whisky with Will, fucking around on the grill with Benny. And he’s sure they’d love you. So sure, in his heart, that it makes his stomach twist. His worlds blending together, the people he loves most in one place. You’d fit, as snuggly here, as you have next door.

‘I’ll ask her,’ he says, ‘When you come over next month. School will be out by then.’

When he looks up, Benny is smiling at him.

‘I’m looking forward to meeting her.’ He says.

He smiles back, all shy and excited, before Will clears his throat and nods in the direction of the barbeque.

‘Sausages better not be burning again, lover boy.’

The sausages are well-done, but edible. Frankie takes his time bringing them to the table, making sure to finally send you that text back.

You deserve it. Have fun, stay safe.

Your little face above it, grinning at him. The sight of it makes his heart swell - his heart hopeful. He scrolls back, above his safe travels text, to the last one you sent, also with a picture. Lucia’s stuffed whale - plush, pale blue, tucked up in the guest bed upstairs.

She’s given me a little friend in case I get lonely. Think I should take the hint?

He’d laugh-reacted to it at the time, in the midst of completing his paperwork for the evening before dashing back home. But now he wonders if there was more to it, a question he should have been brave enough to answer.

He can barely remember the blur and flash of the streetlights as he’d carved his way through the streets, the quiet of easing his way inside the house. You’d left the hallway lamp on so he wouldn’t trip over the array of shoes by the door, and he’d added his boots to them, right next to your trainers.

The door had been locked, all lights off within seconds, before he’d crept up the stairs. The house silent and still around him, warmth right in the belly of his home. He’d checked on Lucia first. Cocooned in her duvet, only her face visible. Soft cheeks plump against her toy dog, her fingers curled around its scruffy neck as she breathed easily and deeply. Her book of bedtime stories on the dresser, dog-eared at the place where you’d finished reading to her. Her nightlight on, she’d smelled of lavender when he’d crouched to kiss her forehead, breathing in her curls.

He’d stopped at the guest room next. Opened the door a crack to make sure you were okay, only hoping in the smallest way that you were still awake. Instead, he’d been greeted with the slope of your shoulders, covered by the t-shirt he’d insisted you borrow, the tangle of your hair. The way your leg was crooked at an angle, your hand beside your face on the pillow. Cheek smushed against the cotton as he watched your breathing, the sweet lax of your face as you slept.

Something warmed in his stomach when he saw that you were, indeed, cuddling the whale Lucia had given you. It pulled at the strings of his memory, something you’d told him about sleeping with a stuffed animal into your late teens. He’d smiled. And then he went to bed.

He doesn’t remember what the dream was about.

Could only see bursts of fire, darkness - could only hear shots and screams. Could only feel a deep, spiralling panic; a void that waits deep inside him, that creeps and bleeds sometimes into the night.

And then he was awake.

Shivering, covered in sweat, his breathing heavy and ragged. Heart beating so fast he clawed desperately at his chest, trying to squeeze it, trying to silence it.

And you were there.

Sat in front of him in his t-shirt, face taught with worry, hands out like you were approaching an animal.

Frankie, it’s me. It’s me, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re at home, you’re safe. You were dreaming. You were dreaming.

It was like he couldn’t see you at first. Eyes blank and wild, body heaving, pulling against the sheets wrapped around his legs. You’d stood to pull them off, to free him, still speaking in that soft, gentle tone. It’s me, you’re safe.

You’d pulled his scrabbling hands from his chest and he’d let you, let you hold one tight as the other dropped away, as you’d placed your other palm to his heart. And fuck, it was going so fast. So fast you wanted to cry with worry, with the need to take this blind panic from him. You’d kept it there, firm, looking into his eyes, still speaking, waiting for him to come back. Trusting that he would.

And then there he was. Still sweaty, still gasping, but there was clarity. Recognition. His fingers slipped against yours before gripping them, clinging to them like you were pulling him out of it, out of some dark, faraway place.

I’ve got you. It’s me, you’re okay.

He’d nodded. Mouth trying to form his reply - okay, okay - Bug? - like he was pleading. You’d moved closer, hand sliding from his chest to his shoulder, and it was like his whole body surrendered. Shuddering as you held him close, as he cried with relief, with shame.

Everything he hid from Vanessa, everything he tried to hide from Benny, spilling and unspooling before you, and yet you didn’t flinch. Didn’t even bat an eye.

You’d sat up with him most of the night. Talking it through. The blood, the bullets, the guilt. The drugs. What happened in Colombia, everything he hadn’t told you, told anyone. You held him through the shakes, box breathing together until his heart rate slowed.

You’d stayed. Quiet and warm, solid against him, an arm wrapped around his waist.

He could never usually sleep after a nightmare. But he did with the soft sweep of your fingers on his forehead.

When he woke, you were gone. A sorrowful feeling in his chest, one which tugged at his lips. Fixed as soon as you knocked on his door with tea, when you sat next to him and ran your fingers through his curls.

He pulled you down next to him, holding you tight to his body, staring up at the ceiling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He’d said.

‘Don’t ever be sorry, Frankie.’ You’d breathed into his chest.

He didn’t need to know how you cried in the guest room after you’d left him. Didn’t need to know how much it hurt watching him hurt, doesn’t need to know about the guilt, the gratitude you feel every time he picks you up and pieces you together. Doesn’t need to know how you’ve worried you won’t ever be able to do the same for him.

He doesn’t know how you laid beside him in agony for hours. Scared to leave, scared to stay. How you’d longed to lay there with him, but feared it would be too much to wake up beside him. Wondered whether you were weird for thinking it would be too much, knowing you’d think nothing of it if he were someone else.

And you don’t know how he pulled the pillow you rested on closer, inhaled the scent. How he dreamed of kissing you awake.

The logs crackle in the fire pit, the only light in the garden bar the string lights looped through the trees back to the porch.

It’s been quiet for a while, though he can still hear Pope and Will in the kitchen, chattering about some baseball game. Benny clears his throat from the chair beside him.

‘I’m happy for you.’

It shouldn't do, but it surprises him. In the years that have passed since the heartbreak between them, Frankie has only ever wanted good things for the man he loved.

He should have known Benny would feel the same.

He shakes his head.

‘Ben, we don’t even know if -’

Benny holds up a hand.

‘Regardless,’ he says, ‘I’m happy for you, Fish. I’m so - glad you have her next door. And I really hope it turns into something.’

Frankie swallows, a knot pulling tight in his throat.

‘I’ve got a good feeling about it.’

He chuckles.

‘Thank you.’

Benny smiles, the firelight glinting in his eyes. Still handsome, just not the person meant for him.

‘How does she make you feel?’

Frankie shoots him a look, and he shrugs.

‘I have a theory. Humour me.’

Fish rolls his eyes, but the answer is easy. He says it into the flames.

‘Safe. Warm. Good.’

Important. Loved. Understood.

He lets the words hang there for a moment, wishing you were here. Wishing for you to come through the front door right now and never leave.

When he turns his head, Benny is looking at him with the gentlest smile he’s ever seen. It makes his throat burn, his eyes water.

‘Do I get to know the theory?’

Benny shakes his head, picking at his bottle label, that small smile still there. He takes a deep breath.

‘I don’t know how she feels about you. Not yet. But, Frankie - I’m glad you found each other.’

It lands right in his heart, the goodness that it’s delivered with. And he thinks Benny’s right.

Obviously right - you mean so much more than he could ever have imagined. But you found each other. Led, perhaps, by things he hasn’t always believed in. Fate, stars, ghosts. Everything that came before that didn’t fit quite right - Vanessa, Benny, Annie. Parts of wholes who loved parts of wholes.

But he knows, knew from that moment on his porch after the beach - that huge, swooping feeling - that he loves you, wholly.

That he understands, now, just how much good two people can do for each other.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales #francisco morales x you #francisco morales x reader #fic: on call

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adderallinfluenced · 3 months ago

Text

thorns

gabriel x reader

TW WARNINGS: violence, torture/manipulation, cursing, blood, drugging

When her brothers find out about her and Gabriel’s relationship, they get into an argument. She storms out, finding herself in a bad situation, and Gabriel saves her.

——————————————————

Dean paced the motel, anger written all over his face. Sam sat in the chair across her, brow furrowed. They’d found out about Gabriel, or rather, her relations with him. Needless to say, they weren’t happy.

They were working on a rather tricky demon case at the time, planting them down in the middle of nowhere. Gabriel’s company while she did research was a welcome one, until Dean had walked into the two of them getting busy.

Her brothers harsh voice cut her through her thoughts.

“Have you got anything to say? At all?” He snapped, “I mean, fuck, Y/N. After all the freakin’ bullshit his feathered ass put us through?”

“What he put you through.” She snapped, “Not me. He’s not like that, Dean.” He really wasn’t. He cared about his family, and he sure cared about her, as far as she knew. Bringing her little gifts, taking her to different places and giving her the chance to finally unwind from constantly moving from city to city.

Dean scoffed, “How long have you been fucking around behind our backs, then?”

“God, what does that matter? It doesn’t change anything.”

He didn’t reply, staring daggers at her. He gritted his teeth, biting back something harsh. If looks could kill, she thought to herself. She rolled her eyes, “Just under two years,” she muttered.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Her brother stared at her. “Two freaking years?”

“Do you even know what he’s capable of?” Sam’s voice cut in. He’d stayed mostly silent up to that point. “I can’t even count how many times he killed Dean; and I lived through it over and over and over. He’s immortal, Y/N, with the power to do nearly anything if he just thinks it.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” She threw back sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and sighed.

“My point is, he’s going to get bored at some point. They all do. As much as I love you, I really doubt you’re the exception here.” He finished.

“You guys hang around Cas.” She pointed out.

“He’s.. Thats different. It doesn’t matter. He’s bad news, sis. Nothing good happens when he’s hanging around, and you should know it.” Dean added. That fucking hypocrite, she thought.

“Can’t be that different, I’d almost say it’s very similar. Especially for you, Dean.” She retorted. Her patience was paper thin.

Hues of red crept up his face. Her jab had clearly hit the target, but it only pissed him off further. “That has nothing to do with this.” His voice was low, dripping with anger. “Why can’t you just listen to me for once? After everything I’ve done for you, I feel like you owe me this one.” He added.

“Like I owe you- Christ, Dean. Quit acting like dad. Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you’re in charge.” She hissed back at him.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N. We’re just looking out for you.”

“Yeah? Controlling who I can and can’t see is looking out for me?” Her blood was boiling.

“Yeah, it is. Would it be so hard to listen? Are you capable of that?” How dare he?

“Dean-” Sam began, but her harsh tone cut him off.

“Screw you, Dean. I’m out. You can figure this out-” she motioned towards the mess of research papers on the coffee table, “by your damn self.” She stood up, and despite their protests, grabbed her keys and slammed the door behind her. She was hot with anger.

Making her way out her car, she unlocked it and slipped inside. It was a dingy old thing, but at least it was hers. She turned the key, and the engine rolled over, hesitating to start. Not now.. A couple more tries and it finally roared to life. She sat there for a couple minutes, thinking.

She pulled out, deciding an aimless drive was what she needed. Are you there, Gabe? She prayed out to him, I need someone to talk to. Silence. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. He rarely did answer her prayers.

She turned the music up, allowing that to distract her further. She tapped her fingers against the wheel to the beat. The sun was setting, casting hues of purples, oranges and pinks across the sky. It was getting late.

Ahead in the road was a small bar and grill, and her stomach rumbled. She didn’t see herself going back to the motel anytime soon, so dinner sounded like a good idea. Grabbing dinner if you want to join, Gabe, she prayed to him, pulling into the parking lot.

The joint had definitely seen better days, but that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying a few drinks and food. Letting out a sigh, she parked the car, waiting. Thoughts ran rampant in her mind. He wouldn’t get bored, she assured herself. Would he? She shook her head, trying to clear it. Briefly, she wondered if she should just head back to the motel. Demons were crawling through this town like termites to a tree. And it’s getting late, she added to herself; but she didn’t even want to think about her brothers at that moment. I’ll sleep in the car if I have to, she decided, stepping out onto the pavement.

She stepped inside, finding a seat at the bar. The bartender slid a menu over to her, flashing a friendly smile, “Haven’t seen you in here before. Just passing through?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” She replied, looking through the menu. “I’ll start with a vodka cran, tall. Thanks.” Sliding the menu back to him, he took it and nodded. She took in the surroundings of the small diner. It was rather slow; a couple folks took up the corner table, a pair played cards, another couple enjoying a dinner. Apart from chatter, and the dusty jukebox in the corner, it was relatively quiet. Almost peaceful.

“Tall vodka cran for the lady.”

The bartender was back. “Name’s Dusty, by the way.” He added, leaning against the bar. He eyed her curiously.

“Nice to meet you.” She wasn’t necessarily in the mood to talk, much less personalize with someone. “What do you recommend for a bite here?” She added, hoping he took a hint.

“You can’t go wrong with our burger.” He replied. “Want me to put one in for ya?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.” She sighed in relief when he turned back. Normally, simple conversation didn’t bother her, but she was too fed up with nearly everything to care.

She pulled her hand up to her forehead, rubbing her temples in frustration. Everything’s been going good for her thus far. They’d moved from hunt to hunt, executing each one damn near flawlessly. Her and Gabriel had grown close, too, and she felt as if she was in deep with the archangel. It was nearly every other day they’d see each other, the two dodging around her nosy brothers. Until that last time, she reminded herself.

Dusty made his back over, plate in hand. She turned her attention over to him. “Here’s that burger for you, Y/N.” He smiled, sliding the plate over to her. She froze, I never told him my name.

“I- Uh, thanks.” She tried playing it off. I need to leave. She wasn’t about to take any chances. All she had was her knife.

“I left something in my car. Keep an eye on that burger for me?” She attempted to lighten the awkward mood with a laugh, lifting herself up off the barstool, she made her way for the door. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, her heart pounding.

The man who had been playing cards stood at the door, blocking her way.

“Leaving so fast, Y/N?” His eyes were swallowed in darkness. Fuck. She reeled her arm back, swinging and making contact with his jaw. Surprise lit up his face, clearly not inspecting that from her. She pivoted around him, reaching for the door when another hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back.

Grabbing her knife, she twisted around to meet Dusty, only his eyes her black as well. She tried to stab through to his side, another demon grabbing her from behind. She struggled against them, shooting a glare up at Dusty.

“I’m betting you aren’t really Dusty, are you? Let me go.” She hissed at him. He laughed.

“Name’s Acteus, sweetheart.”

Acteus? That was the ‘ringleader’ of the demons they’d been tracking. She was in way over her head. Gabriel? Please help me, she prayed desperately towards her archangel. No response, yet.

“So now what? Kill me?” She snapped back at him.

“Kill you? No, I’m just here for some fun. You Winchesters are a pain to kill anyways.” He chuckled. When he stepped closer, she brought her foot up in a kick, meeting with his groin. He doubled over, and she tried to pull herself free.

“You bitch.” He looked up at her, pissed. Pulling his arm back, he hit her square on the side of the head. The world spun, and she slumped over, darkness shrouding her vision.

————————————————————————

When she woke, she had no idea where she was. The room contained a rickety table, a thick door and concrete made up each wall. Her skull itself felt as it was throbbing from where she’d been clocked over the head.

Dusty- No, the demon; Acteus, circled around her. The dirty concrete stung on the cut across her cheek, the ropes digging into her wrists. This is fucked. He twirled a fancy knife around in his hands, and dropped to a crouch in front of her, a smile plastered across his face.

“You don’t have to make this hard, sweetheart. We just have a couple questions for you, that’s all.” She didn’t respond.

He reached down and grabbed her face, directing her attention on him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell us what we want to know. Cooperate, and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” He let go of her, pushing her head back into the floor. Her head collided with the concrete, sending dizzying stars into her eyes, and a groan escaped her throat. He stood up, and she remained silent.

“Got it?”

She flicked her gaze up to meet his. “Fuck off,” She hissed, and before she could say anything else, his boot collided with her ribs harshly. A loud crack echoed through the room, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She tried to catch her breath but all that came out was a weak wheeze, and she whined in pain. Gabriel? I really need your help here.

“You Winchesters are so stubborn.” He scoffed. “Speaking of, where are those brothers of yours? Where there’s one pest, there’s more, and I will not be taking ‘I don’t know’ for an answer.” He growled. He paced around her again, waiting for an answer.

She opened her mouth to say something snarky, and was cut off by another sharp kick to her side, and yelped. She looked up at him with rage in her eyes, and he clicked his tongue at her.

“You’ll have to be quicker than that, Y/N.” He drawled her name out mockingly, “my patience is very thin right now.” He crouched over her once more, pulling his blade back out. He lifted her shirt up slightly, revealing deep bruises already forming over her side. “That’s going to be a bitch to heal,” and he placed the tip of the blade over her skin.

“I won’t ask you again.” His gaze was fixed on her.

“They were at the motel down the road. How the hell am I supposed to know where they are now? We finished up our hunt here.” She lied. He cocked his head to one side, not breaking eye contact, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Is that so?” He lifted the knife up off of her, and her confidence grew.

“Liar.” He pushed the blade deeper, drawing blood, and in one swift motion, sliced down her side. She cried out in pain, her vision blurring. Gabriel, Cas, anyone. Please help me, she begged silently. She refused to give him any information. He stood back up, his boots making contact with her fingers, and they cracked under the pressure, sending white hot pain through her hand. When he stepped away, two of them were at an awkward angle.

“Oops. Did I step on you?” He sneered. “You don’t have to make this hard. You want out of here, I want answers.” He started, “I think we can make a fair compromise here, hm?”

Between her head, her side, and her hands, the pain was unbearable. Tears welled at her eyes, betraying her monotone expression.

“I hate you.” She hissed through her teeth. Another harsh kick.

“Wrong answer.”

He retreated back a couple steps, and threw the knife onto the table. “I’m not done with you yet.” He headed for the door, and paused, “If I were you, I would heavily consider cooperating.”

He was gone. Her mental walls broke down, tears falling down her cheeks, her whimpers echoing around the room. She was growing weaker by the second, and she knew it.

Everything hurt. Blood was oozing down her side, welling into a puddle on the floor. She couldn’t move her fingers, and her head felt as if it were about to split open. Exhaustion clung to her every sense, and she closed her eyes. I’m so sorry, Gabriel. For a moment, there was peace. The pain subsided, briefly.

In another flash, she was yanked back to reality. On one side of her, a man- no, demon, held her down. In front of her, she was face to face with Acteus, a syringe in his hands, injecting her with.. something. Her veins felt as if hot lava were running through them, and she struggled to catch her breath. He slapped her across the face, hard.

“You think you can die and have an easy way out?” He laughed, “I will bring you back over and over again until I don’t need you anymore.” They both let go of her, and she flinched away from them. Her heart was racing, it felt as if it her about to pound out of her chest. Her senses felt sharper, and she felt the aching pain of her wounds intensify. What the fuck did they give me?

“How about this Gabriel?” He asked curiously. “Word through the grapevine says he’s grown quite fond of you.” He eyed her, looking for any sort of reaction.

“What.. about him?” Her lungs felt like they were lit on fire, each word was a struggle.

“Don’t play stupid with me.”

“Does it matter?” Why does he care? She wriggled against the rope restraint on her wrist, casting a glare up at him. I won’t give him the satisfaction of breaking me.

“Oh, it does. He’s been quite a pain for us lately. Do you realize how much that archangel is worth?”

He smirked, placing his now bloodied boot over her side, applying pressure. She tried to move away, but he had her pinned. The pain was dizzying, icy cold darkness blurring the edge of her vision. Gabriel, if you can hear me… She silently begged, please help me.

“Come on, at least put up a little fight. I almost feel bad for you.” He stepped off of her, retreating a couple steps. The lights flickered, briefly, catching his attention. She could hear glass shattering from behind the door, the sounds of a fight filling the silence. Gabriel? Acteus stalked over to the door, locking it. He grabbed his blade from the table and turned back to her. He bent down and grabbed her by the hair, holding her down against the concrete.

“Those brothers of yours just can’t stay away, can they?” She flicked her attention up to him, with a more bewildered look in her eyes. No, it can’t be them. There’s too many demons up there. What if they.. She cleared her thoughts. I can’t think about that right now.

“Expecting someone else, Y/N?” He tightened his grip on her, pushing a knee into her side. “Come on, you don’t think we’re dumb enough to leave the place unwarded, hm?”

He clicked his tongue, “Well, I can’t imagine they’ll get too far. But just in case,” He pushed into her side more, deep pain causing darkness to cloud her vision as she cried out. “It might be best if I make sure there’s nothing left for them to save, hm?” He pulled his blade back out, pressing it against her throat. She tried to struggle away, but there was nowhere to go.

The lights flickered once more, and the door behind him splintered apart. Acteus jumped up, kicking her harshly to the side to face the intruder. He held his knife up, but faltered. Shock was evident in his face, but just briefly. His confident demeanor returned.

“Gabriel! What a surprise-” His voice was cut off as the archangel grabbed him by the throat, slamming him up against the wall. He swung his knife out towards his attackers side, stopping when Gabriel grabbed his wrist,

“How’d you get in here?” Acteus choked out, his hands struggling to pull Gabriel’s own off of himself.

“Wrong wards, dumbass.” His voice was laced with venom. She’d never seen him this pissed off before; angry, upset, irritated, sure. But this was a level of pure, unbridled rage she’d never seen.

“Hey- Come on, this is all a huge mistake. I’ll let her go, you can let me go and we’ll be on our way? This won’t happen again.” He rambled, and for once, there was fear behind his eyes.

“You’re right, it won’t happen again.” Gabriel righted his grip on Acteus’ throat, and the air crackled with energy. Sugar, close your eyes. Gabe’s voice echoed through her skull, and she screwed her eyes shut. The room lit up harshly, she felt heat radiating from the two. Acteus’ screams filled the room, filled with fear and pain, worse than nails on a chalkboard. As awful as the echoing sounds were, she had no empathy for him. Between the chaos in the room, her injuries and exhaustion, it was too much.

The light died down, and she opened her eyes to see Gabriel, and what once was Acteus. There was nothing left of him. Sleep and darkness lulled along her senses, and she couldn’t bare it further. She closed her eyes, the last thing she heard was Gabriel’s voice, begging his father to spare her, and comforting her as he desperately worked on her wounds. She slipped into nothing.

————————————————————————

Sunlight filled the room. She groggily opened her eyes, finding herself on her bed. Gabriel was sat on the of the bed, eyes fixated on the door. Keeping watch, maybe? She tried to sit up, groaning as her weak and sore muscles protested. His head snapped towards her direction, and he moved to her side.

“Woah, easy sugar,” He murmured, resting his hand on her shoulder. “I couldn’t heal you completely. You…” His voice trailed off. “The damage was too extensive. It’s been just under two weeks.” He finished carefully.

“Two weeks..” She echoed. Then it hit her. Her memories came crashing down, Acteus, that room, her fight with her brothers, the… damage he’d done to her. She lifted her cover up, and then her shirt, inspecting her side. Apart from light bruises, there was no evidence of any trauma. She looked up at him, “You came.”

“I almost lost you.” He whispered.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Gabe.” She replied with a weak laugh. His concern didn’t falter. She reached her arms out to him, pulling him closer to her. “I thought I was going to die in there.” She admitted. He moved to where he was lying next to her, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

“You almost did. I mean, fuck, I almost lost you. What if I had showed up a few minutes later?” He murmured.

She sighed, “I don’t know, Gabe. I’ve been able to take care of myself up until now. They took me by surprise, I guess.”

He stared at her, his golden eyes reflecting his emotions like panes of glass. He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“How did you find me? I thought he had wards up.” She asked.

“He did, he just did a shit job at it. Your muttonhead brothers could do it better blackout drunk.” He replied, slight amusement edging his tone. Oh my god, my brothers. She hadn’t spoke to them since she’d stormed out of the motel, she realized.

“I was getting your prayers, sugar. I just couldn’t find you. Do you know how many buildings I tore up looking for you?”

She didn’t reply. She thought he’d just been busy, or ignoring her. No wonder he was so pissed, even before finding her.

“Sam, Dean- where are they?” She asked. Had it really been two weeks?

“Oh, they’re here. They weren’t happy to see me, and that’s an understatement. They won’t leave, something about not trusting me, or something.” He mumbled that last part.

She suppressed a giggle, “I can’t imagine why.”

“Do you want me to grab them?” He asked. She really didn’t, not yet. She wasn’t quite ready to talk to them. The comfort of her bed, along with Gabriel holding her was not something she wanted to abandon yet.

“No. I think I’m too tired.” She laid her head against his chest. “Rest with me?” She asked, peppering soft kisses along his neck. He sighed, melting into her touch.

“Sugar, you’ve been resting for two weeks, and archangels don’t sleep.” He replied, matter-of-factly.

“Okay, alright. But I can’t imagine you’ve done anything short of stressing and sitting right at the edge of my bed for the last.. two weeks.” She threw back at him. She knew she was right when he didn’t respond.

“That’s what I thought.” She added, stifling a yawn. “Just for an another hour or two?” She kissed right below his jaw again, and he took a deep breath.

“You drive a hard bargain, sugar.” He murmured, running his fingers through her hair.

“Thank you for saving me, Gabriel.”

He didn’t respond, humming and pulling her body close. She closed her eyes, the rising and falling of her angel lulling her to sleep.

#gabriel imagines #gabriel #gabriel x reader #gabriel spn #archangel gabriel #gabriel spn imagine #gabriel spn gifs #supernatural imagine #supernatural headcanons #supernatural #spn #spn imagine #sam winchester #dean winchester #winchester!reader

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wendytestabrat · 9 months ago

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why kyle actually knows how to help cartman and heidi doesn’t

i swear this wholeass special is a PERFECT example on why kyman works and heiman doesn’t lol. like ya’ll remember when heidi tried to help with cartman’s weight by making him go vegan, and then cartman retaliated back at her by making her gain weight? well in “the end of obesity”, we see kyle going full boyfriend mode trying to help cartman with his weight and cartman is cooperative as hell abt it and listens to kyle. like idek how people can say cartman is the abusive one at this point bc there are a lot of aspects of their dynamic where kyle is the one who takes charge and dominates which he did in this episode lol. and i also feel like kyle did a WAYYY better job than heidi trying to find a weight loss solution cartman would be ok with. kyle knows damn well that if he were to try to get cartman to go on a diet like heidi did, that would NOT work. he knows cartman well enough to know cartman can’t stand vegans and would never eat that crap lol. so yeah i feel like kyle did a good job of rlly taking cartman’s feelings into consideration and trying to help him in a way that ACTUALLY WORKS that he wants to be helped with. i also feel like kyle was waiting for a moment where cartman wanted to HELP HIMSELF and would be appreciative about it. i’m sure kyle rlly appreciated seeing cartman genuinely concerned and upset about his weight in that beginning scene where cartman was crying abt being fat, so yeah ofc kyle pounced on that opportunity lol. something else i loved abt this episode is it showed how truly patient kyle is with cartman LOL. like when they were on that wholeass navigating the healthcare system montage the fact that kyle did NOT give up and kept taking cartman from one place to the next to fill out all those forms even though it was annoying and tedious was admirable af. this is something i’ve ranted abt A LONGASS time ago abt how everyone acts like kyle is easily irritated and annoyed with cartman, when in reality he has more patience for his bullshit than any other character and is willing to spend long periods of time with him when the other characters won’t. so yeah HEIDI COULD NEVER. kyle was working his ass off to find a rational solution that could help with his weight, wheras heidi just gave up right away when the first thing she tried didn’t work. i also feel like i have to point out how much i loved how touchy and feely and possessive kyle got in this special, which just further adds more validity to the jelly kyle theory (which rlly isn’t a theory bc it’s true) we had during the heiman drama back in seasons 20-21. like yeah no SHIT kyle is gonna get mad over a girl holding hands with cartman bc HE WANTS TO HOLD HANDS WITH CARTMAN and he’s used to being the one that gets to touch him and be in his personal bubble.

#south park #kyman #KYMANRANTGARBAGE

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hannie-dul-set · 1 year ago

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PATIENCE, PATIENCE.

p — SIM JAEYUN x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, making out, secondhand embarrassment aka the hannie-dul-set fic triumvirate + a good amount of public indecency. 1.5k words.

requested by — anon: cocky jock (who loses that cockiness around you) x reserved student librarian (who loses that cool because of him).

note — loosely inspired by a moment from the manhwa "unstoppable hayoung" ifykyk. in a prev fic i alluded beomgyu to a mosquito, in this one jake to a pest. i think i'm seeing a pattern here.

a pest has been following you for quite some time now.

“sim jaeyun.”

his name falls icy off your tongue, prefacing it with a sharp inhale yet the man in question is unfazed. he’s trespassing the barrier that’s preventing you from socking him in the face: the front desk of the library where he’s decided to prop his arms over, leaning into the surface, smiling oh-so-handsomely at you as if you aren’t politely telling him to fuck off with your eyes alone.

then again. you don’t really expect him to understand social cues.

“for the dozenth time, please leave me alone.”

so you verbalize your intent instead.

“i can’t do that, baby,” he replies. “not until you agree to go out with me.”

you suck in a deep huff of air, close your eyes, and dig your fingers into your thighs to ward away the distress.

“just one date. please?” he prods, nudging himself closer over the desk as if the scrawls of paper you’re trying to organize aren’t as important as his incessant badgering. “are you really going to keep saying no to this face?” the face in mention looks particularly punch-able right now. you’ve always taken pride in yourself for being a very patient, patient individual. jake sim from philosophy 102 is testing that patience.

“the library is for reading,” you say through gritted teeth. patience, patience, patience. you’re a daffodil on a breezy field, a piece of driftwood on a steady river. you will not fight a man in your workplace. you will keep your job and maintain inner peace.

“i am reading,” he argues. “i’m trying to read your mind because i don’t get why you don’t want to go out with me.”

holy crap. he’s insufferable.

“i’ve already told you dozens of times, jake.” now, you don’t know a thing or two about the ball sport he does, but that pink varsity jacket is starting to look abhorrent. it’s being shoved into your face the more he tries to throw himself over your desk. a bright jarring color, unsafe for the eyes. “i don’t want to go out with you. also, i’d appreciate if you stop ruining my work.”

one of the documents got wrinkled under his elbow. his mouth opens, “oh, sorry!” and he quickly backs off, ironing the sheet with his palms. “but at least tell me why you don’t want to go out with me. you keep rejecting me with a blank face but i don’t know why.”

your upper lip twitches.

because this is all because of a dare, that’s fucking why.

no, even that aside, the way he keeps arrogantly trying to hit on you, expecting you to just accept it and go is grinding your gears. you’re calm. you’re usually calm. but something about this guy just pushes all your buttons in one go, makes you spew out bullshit you’d never dare yourself to say to anyone else.

“hey,” your rouse. “can you kiss me right now?”

two can play at that game, bitch.

it works. it works really well because jake is suddenly as pink as his jacket. well, you don’t blame him. the library isn’t safe from gross, hormonal activities, but those are usually done in between the shelves— not at the front desk near the entrance.

you’re mimicking his stance, leaned forward, arms crossed over the desk and all. “like— like a peck on the cheek?” he stutters.

“no. like tongue in mouth kissing me like a starved man and it’s your last meal on death row,” you clarify. it’s funny how you can see his brain circuits crashing in real time. serves him right. you let out a breath and stand up, seeing the clock tick closer to your break. you quickly gather your things and circle out from behind the desk, now in cross-armed disappointment next to your persistent pest. “this is why i don’t want to go out with you, jake. you don’t even have feelings for me. you’re doing this because your friends told you to, and i don’t—”

suddenly, you feel something soft on your lips.

suddenly, your knees are weak, your mind is fuzzy, and you’re exchanging spit with jake sim in the library lobby.

wait, you gasp into his mouth and he responds with a grunt. wait, your eyelids flutter, air knocked out of your chest that’s somehow now pressed against his because wait— this wasn’t supposed to go this way.

how dare he actually do what you told him to? how dare he give you the best damn kiss you’ll ever have in your life?

“what the fuck?” you breathe out in intermittent huffs, hands on his chest as you pull yourself back. jake’s hazy eyes are looking at you in a way that makes your brain jump in circles, coupled by the arm that he has looped around your lower back. he’s crazy. he’s fucking crazy. “why— why would you do that?!”

“you told me to kiss you!”

“and you did?!”

your eyes widen at the volume of your own voice, quickly slapping a hand over your swollen lips, but making noise is at the bottom of your library sins today. you see your supervisor’s attention on you from the corner of your eye, and your face flushes. “why would you go this far for a dare?” you say in a quieter voice, still manic, still frantic, and jake flinches hard when you jab a finger to his chest. “you’re nuts, you’re actually nuts, oh my god—”

“wait, what do you mean dare?” your finger seems to be hurting him because he grabs your wrist and brings your hand down. “a dare? a dare to do what?”

you seethe. “don’t play dumb with me, jake. overheard you and your little soccer friends last time—”

“it’s football—”

“i don’t care.” your voice is getting louder again. jake flinches once more. “the problem here is you keep asking me out to date you because your soccer friends are betting on who can bed the quiet library assistant first and— and i’m not going to play dumb just because you’re a good kisser. i’m angry and disgusted and—”

“do you mind continuing your argument outside?”

your mouth is hanging open, paused mid-speech. when you peer to your left, you see that your supervisor has teleported right next to you. oh, god. there goes your job. jake apologizes for the both of you and skews your frozen figure out the door. you’re screwed. your patience could handle six months at starbucks and three months babysitting three toddlers, but i cannot handle one sim jaeyun.

“so,” the perpetrator’s voice snaps you back to reality. you’re both now outside the library, and he’s looking at you with a smugness that begs a kick to the balls. “you think i kiss good.”

your face bitters. “is that your only takeaway from all that?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i also got that you’re rightfully mad at me for something i have to clear up.”

here we go. you’re curious to see what excuses he’ll make, how many sorry’s he’ll impart, and if he’ll get down on his knees. jake. but his starting words aren’t what you’re hoping for. “there isn’t a bet,” he starts. “my teammates were just trying to tease me because i didn’t have the balls to ask you out. dumb, i know, but they were dumber because they were all like, ‘if you don’t make a move soon, we will, blah, blah, blah’ to provoke me so—”

jake is matching his varsity jacket again.

“long story short, i made them run fifteen laps and decided to get it over with by asking you out on a date.”

you’re brought back to the first instance jake had asked you out— it was in the lecture hall, right after class, and he was wearing the same pink jacket that at this point seems like his second skin. the color isn’t as jarring as you initially thought.

“but rejection didn’t feel nice. so i thought i’d try again.”

you narrow your eyes. “again, as in like, eight times?”

“you counted?” he muses. you are unamused. he clears his throat and continues. “you’re always so calm and collected, but your eyebrows would furrow and your face would scrunch up whenever i threw you the question. it’s cute. i got addicted. you can’t pin all the blame on me.”

you let his words simmer, and with each passing second of silence jake grows more nervous, fidgeting in wait. you decide to spare him the agony, letting out a deep and heavy sigh. “okay. you’re forgiven.”

it’s instantaneous how his face lights up. now, you’re the one flinching.

“nice! does that mean we’re dating now? can i kiss you again?”

“now hold on,” you stop him, mildly appalled, mostly flustered. “i said i forgive you. i never said we can start making out in a public area again.”

he bats his eyes at you. “in private then?”

you want to hit him. you want to hit him so bad. sim jaeyun is the pest that has been following you for quite some time now. you fear that at this point, there’s no getting rid of him now.

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen scenarios #enha scenarios #sim jaeyun scenarios #jake sim scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x you #sim jaeyun x you #jake sim x you

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darkenedroses-world · 2 months ago

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New Territory — Droid x Reader

f!reader, rough sex, dirty talk, dom!Droid, teasing, biting, light choking, marking, hair pulling, aftercare, request🦋

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. The two of you had been toeing the line for weeks—flirty banter, lingering glances, and moments that felt too heavy with tension to be considered just friends. But no one had ever made the first move, and so the game continued, neither of you daring to cross that invisible line. Until tonight. The group had gone out for drinks, the usual chaos in full swing. You’d laughed until your stomach hurt, watching as Droid roasted everyone in sight with his quick wit and sharp tongue. But every now and then, his gaze would drift to you, holding your eyes for just a second too long before flicking away. It made your pulse race, the unspoken pull between you growing stronger with each passing glance. By the time the night ended, you were walking side by side down the quiet street toward his house, the others having split off earlier. The air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin tingle and your thoughts race. “You good?” Droid asked, his voice casual but his eyes flicking over to you, studying your expression. “Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound normal. “Just… tired.” He huffed a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Bullshit. You’re overthinking something—I can see it on your face.” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe.” Droid stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in that head of yours?” You looked up at him, the dim streetlight casting shadows across his sharp features.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you considered your next words. “I… just can’t stop thinking about something,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. His brow quirked, a slow, teasing smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh? And what’s that?” “You,” you said simply, your cheeks burning as the word hung in the air between you. For a moment, Droid didn’t move, his eyes locked on yours as if he was waiting for you to take it back. But then, his smirk turned into something darker, more serious. “Say that again,” he said, his voice lower now, his tone almost daring. You swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” That was all it took. The door to his apartment barely closed before he had you pinned against it, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him as his tongue slid past your lips, claiming your mouth like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and strained. “Then stop holding back,” you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. Droid growled low in his throat, his hands sliding down to grab your thighs and lift you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. When he finally set you down on the edge of the bed, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with something primal.

“Last chance,” he said, his voice hoarse. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.” You shook your head, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced. “I don’t want you to stop. I want all of you.” That was all he needed to hear. The first touch of his hands on your bare skin sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers trailed over your thighs, pushing up your skirt as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re fucking perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth in lightly, leaving a mark that made you gasp. “Jaime—” “Shh,” he said, his voice teasing. “Let me take my time with you.”

But patience wasn’t in the cards tonight.

By the time he’d rid you of your clothes, he was already on top of you, his body pressing yours into the mattress as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses in his wake. “You like it rough, don’t you?” he murmured, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Yes,” you breathed, your fingers digging into his back. “Good.” His hand wrapped around your throat lightly, just enough to make your breath hitch as he leaned down to kiss you again. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he thrust into you for the first time, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but the way he looked at you—hungry, possessive—made it impossible to focus on anything but him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Droid groaned, his voice strained as he started to move. His pace was rough and demanding, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. “You were made for this—made for me.” His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your nails dragging down his back as you moaned his name. “Jaime, I—” “Cum for me,” he growled, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster. “Let me hear you scream my name.” You shattered around him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. But he didn’t stop. “Again,” he demanded, his voice rough and breathless. “You can give me another one.” And you did.

When it was finally over, you lay tangled together on the bed, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Droid’s hand traced lazy circles on your back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now. You smiled, your body still buzzing. “Better than okay.” He grinned, his usual cocky smirk back in place. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

#concept writing #youtube #nsft concept #elasticdroid x reader #elasticdroid #request #Spotify #droid fics

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