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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year ago

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sloppy seconds | s. getou + s. gojo

✮ tags ; afab +fem!reader, weird relationship dynamics, polyamory if you squint, mild obsession, overstimulation + unprotected sex, wet and messy, dubcon (gojo references passing out on readers end but its all consensual) 18+

✮ wc ; 2.3k

✮ a/n ; nonsensensically horny about this idk

Suguru doesn’t mind sharing. Not with Satoru.

Never with Satoru.

It’s easy to mistake that willingness for benevolence, and for a lesser sorcerer - fear. But it’s neither, nothing so complex. Nothing worth philosophizing over, something Suguru loves to do. Suguru just doesn’t mind sharing with Satoru for anything.

If he has to explain himself - it’s like this. Satoru is an extension of Suguru himself. A part of him, ingrained in him, grown into him. Not like ivy vines, but a flower pushing through concrete, a stubborn spectacle of Suguru’s gray matter. Satoru is the bluebell that refuses to be plucked, to die, to be anything but involved.

That and Satoru is not good at not coveting all things Suguru owns. He’s even worse at try to pretend he doesn’t want them. It's pitiful and frequent enough to make Suguru wince every time. A boy born into God doesn’t know how to play fair, even when his best efforts are made to do so.

When Satoru longs for something, his whole body has to whine for it. His eyes will flutter and he’ll slow himself down like a sloth, laugh less. When he really, really tries - he almost becomes a shell of himself. A shell of a shell, a masquerading puppet.

He’s not equipped for it. Suguru finds the whole display pathetic.

Well, Suguru likes appeasing him, too. That’s part of it. He’s not so dishonest that he can’t recognize that he enjoys seeing the way Satoru breaks the things Suguru gives him. There’s a novelty in that display, like a child crying for a toy and playing too rough. Suguru fixes them, sees if Satoru learns from his mistakes and he never does. Satoru likes things that are shiny, things he can’t have. Discards them and loses interest when it’s already his.

Suguru never gives Satoru something unless he’s certain he doesn’t mind it being broken, or being used, or being a little messy. If there is any apprehension, Suguru won’t do it. Won’t let Satoru cry his way into it either.

He also likes the chase. Satoru does. Like an overgrown dog. Likes begging and pleading, making a big show. He can be manipulative too, if it’s something that has to be taken, but he’ll heel if Suguru puts his foot down.

Most of all, Suguru enjoys cleaning up after Satoru’s messes. It makes him feel important. There’s always an undercurrent of amusement and warmth when Suguru picks up after Satoru. The strongest is uncharacteristically sloppy, and doesn’t know how to indulge in things without getting sick of them instantly.

Their relationship is like this - Suguru is the hand that feeds, and Satoru is the thing that bites. Suguru sighs and clicks his teeth, but the scars in his fingers and all the bite marks prove that he doesn’t really care about Satoru learning his lesson. He just likes to feed, likes to watch Satoru eat off his hand for a while before Satoru gives up on being good and uses his mouth to devour. Suguru watches this happen idly, lets the whole thing roll off of his sleeve and laughs. Because that’s just Satoru, after all.

For all reasons above and then some, Satoru's interest in you doesn't shock him at all.

Suguru loves you. Maybe in some twisted way, but it’s love. You’re rather obstinate. He suspects he might have a type, but he likes you so much for it. When Suguru pushes your buttons - you’re not the kind to sit back and take it. And for how much Suguru gets on your nerves, Satoru gets on yours worse. Between them, only Suguru only saw the best in you. Satoru didn't understand that part of you is what makes you so special. Only you could refuse him so often and keep Suguru wrapped around your fingers, unable to ignore you or keep his hands off of you.

(He’s a good enough man to you just to make you melt since he knows if you really got mad you'd leave. He knows how to smile and sorry until you lay in his arms and hit him soft because you claim to still be mad.)

The decision to share you is one Suguru makes lightly. It’s featherlight and simple. Satoru will indefinitely break you in some way. Will rip at you like the ill-mannered man he is. Suguru will bask in it like he always does. Satoru is only so keen on having you because Suguru so utterly adores you. Of course he knows that. But curiosity always wins Suguru over. He couldn't help but want to know what exactly Satoru will do with you once he had you.

It surprises him after, but Satoru doesn’t lose interest in you as fast as Suguru expects. Or at all. Maybe he should’ve predicted that, since he knows best you’re not so easy to break.

But Satoru tries. God, does he try to just do that.

Suguru glances back towards Satoru. He has a lot more energy than him. Enough to fuck you utterly dumbstruck

He watches on as he does it now, with the same mild fondness. Something stirs seeing you like that of course, but it’s not so distracting he can’t do other things.

Satoru has you in his bed with your legs pinned up against your ears. Impatience makes an interesting image of Satoru. His sweatpants are pulled over the meat of his thigh, covered in cum and sweat since he refuses to take them off. His shirt is still on in much the same condition, though the black fabric masks some of it. Still it sticks unmistakably to his abdomen, clings tight to the lines of his abs.

Satoru himself seems keen on making himself sick on you. His hands are folded underneath your knees with his face against yours - warm, wet and sloppy kisses making the entire room sound sticky. The air of his apartment is so thick with lust, Suguru’s sure he could slash through it with a knife and still not make it to fresh air.

Suguru is a little used to it. So he’s horny, but he’s not there yet. He approaches the bed with a smooth and familiar demeanor, the mattress dipping underneath his weight as he sits next to you. Your eyes are tear stained and wet as you blink, sensing his presence even amidst your delirium.

You try to reach your hand out for him but Satoru is quick to shut it down. Suguru tsks.

“Don’t get greedy,” Suguru reprimands, and Satoru only shoots him a frown. His focus in fucking you open doesn’t cease for even a minute. “Missed me did you?”

Your mouth forms around his name. It tries, but the words are muffled by Satoru’s own lips again. Suguru laughs a little louder this time, but doesn’t stop Satoru in any way. When he pulls away from you, your eyes are glazed over. Mouth open, tongue sticking out and covered in spit. Bitten to hell and pink with someone else's saliva. Suguru reaches towards your face and wipes your mouth, his back facing Satoru. You whine, letting your face curl against his hand. Desperate, so desperate for him despite being fucked out of your mind.

“So greedy,” Suguru teases, because you are - because he’s made you that way so perfectly in his image. “Satoru isn’t doing a good job?”

Satoru grumbles with possession he’s hardly earned, but again - this is of no concern to him. He watches Satoru ratchet his hips a little more, watches him fuck you on his cock even deeper than before. Your eyes roll back and your jaw goes slack, and from this angle - Suguru can see the way all the loads his best friend has pumped in you have gathered at the base of his cock. A thick, creamy ring of white making your pussy deliciously sloppy. Your cum drips down your sex, paints your ass white as he keeps fucking him into you with all that stamina.

That’s what gets him, he finds. All that energy, all that mess. Suguru feels a shiver roll through him as Satoru fucks his loads into you deeper. He’s longer where Suguru is thicker so Suguru imagines how far that really goes. How hot it must be inside of you, fucked so ruthlessly you’ve gone completely stupid in bliss. Satoru can fuck like an animal just like he eats like one, and god don’t you look so pretty being ripped apart in front of him.

Satoru bottoms out and stays there this last thrust, so hard the bed shakes. His thighs stick to yours as he grinds his hips up, pulsing against your gspot - reaching right into your womb. You moan brokenly, whimper as you get fucked. Suguru knows it now - that it means Satoru is about to cum in your greedy little cunt for umpenteenth time unconcerned with the consequences.

Satoru shivers, riding out his high as he pumps whatever he has left into you before he pulls away. Thick strings of arousal keep you two together before Satoru inevitably manages to get off of you. He sits on the back of his legs, admiring his work - his hands going to smack your puffy cunt - pleased and finally relieved. You yelp, completely worn out.

“You didn’t pass out this time,” He says, pleased and completely different than he was before “Good girl.”

You let out a pained whine, and Suguru coos.

Satoru gets off the bed and looks for a water bottle to drink, peeling his shirt off when he finds it and rehydrating himself. He has the courtesy to come back and let you have some when he returns. You swallow it as best you can when you’re laying down and drinking it from his lips.

“You gonna have your way with her now, Suguru? How cruel.” Satoru says.

Suguru ignores him. “Go wash up and order dinner.”

Satoru hums noncommittally and disappears, leaving you alone together. When Suguru replaces Satoru’s weight in the bed - your reaction is immediate. You close your legs, but Suguru forces them back apart as he gets a good look at your sore, abused cunt.

Satoru can be so brutal when he wants to, but thats what he likes most to see. You’re in a sorry state. He uses nimble fingers to open you up - looking with a wicked grin as your cunt opens up for him. Nearly gapes from how stretched it is, how much Satoru has fucked you. You’re still soft and sticky inside, your clit hard and swollen. Full to the brim with Satorus seed, heady with his scent.

He tsks at Satoru’s unprofessionalism, wonders if he’s been as dexterous as he should’ve been.

The questions answered when Suguru touches your pussy and you pull away - skittish and helpless as he pinches the hard bundle of nerves. He whistles at how easily you’re stimulated, and then groans at the way Satoru’s cum starts to drip out of your hole. He uses his pointer finger to collect it back up - pushing it back where he wants it. You cry out - for Suguru mostly.

Suguru hums delicately as he picks up after Satoru’s mess.

He unclothes you properly first. Takes off your shirt and dirty shorts before he undresses himself. You like skin to skin, so his shirt comes off as his pants lay low on his hips. When he’s like that, you reach your arms around his neck like you know what’s coming. Suguru chuckles at how instinctual it is, lets you reach out for him - your sticky body adhering to his skin.

“Messy little pussy. Going to let me fuck you some more? Fuck another load into you, huh beautiful?”

You nod stupidly. He kisses the side of your head. Of course you will.

It never fails to send pure electricity up Suguru’s spine when he fucks you like this. Never fails to make him so hard he’s lightheaded, feeling how soft and wet and sloppy you are. Your cunt doesn’t resist him in the slightest. He slides his thick, heavy cock right into your pussy with unbelievable ease and feels everything. Feels your walls pulse with tremors of orgasms, overstimulation making you dizzy with need.

Suguru groans. You feel incredible like this. Feel perfect, so stretched open, so delirious, full of his best friends cum. He’s never felt a single thing so euphoric as this.

He ducks his head down to give you the proper care. The best part of all of it for him. His mouth latches on your tender tits and his hand goes between your bodies - thumb circling your clit as he bottoms out easily into your pussy and stays there.

It’d be a waste to fuck you hard, everything dripping out where Satoru has worked so hard to fill. Suguru opts instead to lay you out on your spine and grind into you. Your legs weakly wrap around his waist as the head of his cock bullies your gspot, pushing into you and rubbing against the sensitive spongy area. Silky walls soggy as they cling to him while you cry out again.

With Satoru, you mostly keep to yourself. Bratty and firm. But with him, you’re so needy. You whimper his name and beg for his attention and ask for something you aren’t sure of because you trust Suguru so completely. You forget your obstinance as you beg him for a proper orgasm, not one that happened to get rung out of you because Satoru can’t help himself.

Suguru can never last long like this, but he lasts long enough to fulfill your wishes. He relishes in the weakened pulses of your pussy, spasming around him for the last time. Your nails dig into his biceps, as he hums against your tits and lets you ride out your continued high.

Only once it’s over does he let himself cum. Buries himself as deep as he can go and gives you his own load, grunting into the crook of your neck as he shakes - his abs tightening before going soft inside of you. Thick white ropes of cum filling you even deeper. Sloppy fucking pussy for his pretty. perfect girl.

“Suguru,” You whine, your hands gripping onto him for life - usual personality evaporated to mush. “Suguru I love you,”

He laughs to himself. See? No issues. Suguru always knows how to put you back together.

“I love you too, baby.”

#getou x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #writing tag #dubcon cw #idk if i like this i just wanted to get it out

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himluv · 28 days ago

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I agree with you on the Solavellan ending. I love the angst and tragedy and I'm eating the idea of Solas and Lavellan having a lot to unpack once in the fade. Dramatic confrontations, tears, breakdowns and a slow road to forgiveness,. Delicious food. But I'm really annoyed with a portion of the fandom that seems to just gloss over the fact that Solas killed Varric, someone who was always kind to Lavellan and was even her friend. And even if you don't like Varric personally he is in canon a relatively decent person who tried to reach out to Solas on a compassionate level. Then he used a blood magic puppet of him to manipulate Rook... IDK the way that seems to mean little to nothing to a lot of Solavellans kind of bothers me. I'm not here to tell anyone how they can or can't play but the takes have been so bad. The infantilization, excuses and woobification of our boy are so egregious. Solas is complex and morally gray. Why would we be going through the effort of redeeming him if he wasn't doing things that would require redemption in the first place? I've felt really disconnected from the rest of the fandom because of all of the softening of his character people have been doing and it's refreshing to hear a take from someone who loves Solas but doesn't want to defang him.

Thanks for this thoughtful reply to this post! Sorry this took awhile, but I've been thinking of what I wanted to say. Long and spoiler-riddled reply below, and I don't even know how relevant it is to your reply, Nonny. Sorry!

I think A Lot of folks have spent the last 10 years rotating him in their heads like one throws a clay pot, molding him into something he could be based on what we knew about him. But, we didn't necessarily account for the other forms he could take. And some folks are very resistant to who he's canonically become by Veilguard. Because it's not a good form, he got Worse™ in his decade away from friends and love (shocker!), and it's hard to reconcile this version of him with the ones we may have made.

I get all of that. But I also LOVE that. It means he could still surprise me, and I got to experience this weird duality of love/hate I didn't expect to feel toward him. I got to see his lies in real time, know he was lying because I KNOW HIM, and go, "oh, you little shit (affectionate)". Like, that's just FUN! Which, last time I checked was in fact the point of video games.

I love that he is unpredictable and dangerous in this game. That we finally see him go all out, and use every skill and trick he has. That is THRILLING, especially because he's more dangerous and lethal and ruthless than I personally expected. Which... Is my fault. I should have expected it, because look what he did to Felassan. Look how he so easily killed all those Qunari in Trespasser. Look what he did with those spirits of chaos and disruption. Look what he did to the Titans! I should have known better, the games and books showed me time and again what he was capable of. I just didn't want to believe it.

I've seen some posts talking about how Lavellan approaches Solas at the very last confrontation. How carefully she goes up the stairs towards him. I've seen several interpretations of it, but there's one I haven't seen (which could be because I'm not hanging out in the Solavellan tag much these days).

She takes those stairs slowly, as if approaching a spooked horse, because the last time someone climbed a set of stairs to talk him down from his ritual, he killed them. And I don't think for one second Lavellan believes, if she handles this poorly, he won't do the same to her.

And I think she is 100% right. He would, perhaps on "accident" as he claims to Neve was the case with Varric (debatable - seemed pretty intentional if maybe a bit impulsive from here). But I firmly believe there is a world where Solas would stab his vhenan if he had to and certain conditions hadn't been met (and yes that would utterly destroy him).

She walks up those stairs to him, her vhenan, knowing this is it. Their final stand. She will save him from himself, whatever it takes, and she is prepared to die at his hands if it comes to that. And it so easily COULD HAVE.

I don't know. I just think that Veilguard gave us SO MUCH more insight into Solas and there's so much there to chew on. I think we're going to be able to go back through all the games and codices and so many little details are going to fit together and complete a puzzle we didn't even know we were making.

After all of this, I still have so much to think on 😂. I'm going to be living in Thedas for another decade at this rate!

Good. I don't ever want to leave.

#anon ask #asked and answered #veilguard positive #solavellan #otp #riallan lavellan #solas #fandom critical #kinda?

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muffinsin · 5 months ago

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hi hello hola bonjour aloha 😵😵😵😵

OKOKOK SOOOOOOO ........ i know this request is weird BUUUUTTTT could u maybe possibly do the dimitrescus being with someone (as in, having an s/o) thats a humanoid arachnid??? If im spelling that correctly? rahhh idk

like, imagine those spider-people with like, agile spider legs on their back, sharp fangs, multiple, red/purple/gray eyes, dark fluffy hair, red/purple/other markings, etc etc. I think it would be funny since theyre literally flies dating a spider .. which eats flies

u can use doctor octavius as reference for the spider leg placement if u didnt understand, or like, angel dust??? Its up to ur interpertation, really, but id prefer if they did have normal human legs .. and features .. since a giant spider with a human head feels unnatural .. giggle, giggle

AS ALWAYS!!! take care!!!!!! Make sure to take breaks inbetween requests!!!!!

WITH MUCH LOVE AND LESBIANISM 😈😈😈😈 (the gayness directed at the dimitrescus .. not u, becauze .. i dunno u .. and thats weird)

-- 🐾🧃, AKA JUNGLE JUICE 👽👽👽

Piece out! (Not peace, i require violence)

Hell yeah!!🙌 Funnily enough, I think there was once talk of an arachnoid reader on this blog, but the idea got lost somewhere. I’m happy to dive back into it now!👀 Let’s get into it!

Masterlists

Bela

What started out as a sudden introduction in the forest, soon became more

Back then already, Bela was- unsurprisingly- intrigued by you

After all, your appearance alone is enough to make most double check whether they saw right

And she was certainly no better

Though, at the very least you did the same then, not quite believing you ran into one of the infamous Dimitrescu daughters

During your first interaction, time almost stood still as the two of you inspected one another-

you, standing in place when you ran just moments ago,

Bela, stilled with her sickle held in her hand, as though frozen like a deer in the headlights upon running across you

- it was a cute moment, even, in itself. Both of you, stunned by each other

Where you saw a pair of strong, piercing golden eyes, she saw multiple pairs of eyes

You watched then as she studied them almost, her own flickering across your face

The two eyes at the center of your face, human-looking in every aspect but their colour

A dark grey, she originally thought

In time, she would find and adore the specks of red and purple in them, only found upon closer inspection. But more of that later

Then, more eyes, stretching across the side of your forehead almost

5 of them, some more slit than others, some smaller, some larger

She shivered at the sight, but even you saw the curiosity shimmer within her back then already

It was clear to both of you that neither was mortal. Not entirely so, at least

Where you saw her regal, almost gothic and Victorian dress and the sickle, she spotted torn clothing

A villager, or at the very least that’s what you used to be

Only was your clothing torn and almost webbed shut again, the strings keeping your cloths together so fine they couldn’t possibly be any fabric or wool

While her fingers held the sickle tight, your long ones moved slightly, as if restless

More things were apparent immediately, such as,

Your long, strong legs allowing you to stand tall, nearly the same as Bela

Something unusual, certainly

And then, of course, the other pair

The strong, somewhat thin pair of arms or legs- Bela could never quite tell- sprouting from your back

The fuzzy, dark hair falling down your shoulders and back, a little too untrimmed, a little too wild for even the villagers’ standards

And the strange marks stretching across your bare arms

Neither of you attacked one another, then

In fact, neither of you moved, until the sounds of the angry mob of villagers faded away

You don’t entirely remember most of what happened after, only remember begging her to take you with her

Despite its reputation, you knew working and living at the castle must be better than starving out at the forest

And, holding the same curiosity in her tone, she agreed and took you in

Only were you no mere staff member, dusting this and that

You were Bela’s favorite

And everyone knew

You worked for her only, didn’t take orders from even the head maiden

The two of you spent more and more time together, chatting and sharing bits and pieces of yourselves

Your- nature- certainly made your work more challenging and fun

As such, at times, you would hold onto the walls with the limbs stemming from your back and climb high to the ceiling to dust even the top of the shelves

Often- surprisingly often given how busy she was- Bela opted to join you

Not in cleaning, of course. You’re sure she thinks it’s below her

Instead, she’d often- and still does- swarm halfway, as if sleeping on an invisible mattress in the air

She’d watch you work, talk occasionally

At other times, she’d trace your limbs gently when no words were exchanged

And, unsurprisingly, the ever growing bond and fondness between the two of you leads to something more

While Bela was the first to initiate things, you proudly claimed the first kiss from her

Upon being in a relationship, she found out more about you still

Like the sharp fangs in your mouth, which she loves to trace and feel dig into her skin

She loves the webs you spin, her fingertips occasionally dragging against the light silk

Sometimes, a fly of hers gets stuck

That, she loves less

And still, you always take care of the little insects, ensuring they won’t be trapped in some of the smaller webs you leave

At times, you quite intentionally web her, your spidery silk-like web trapping her arms above her head, her body fondled by the many limbs you possess….

Alas, we’re trailing off, but of course, your nature, body, and abilities are appreciated in all aspects

The bedroom being one of them, too

Though, Bela loves nothing more than cuddling up together, too

Especially when held in your arms, all of them wrapped tightly around her

It’s perfect to her, and often a blanket or two will be thrown in the mix in winter

Once, you suggested wrapping her up in your webs to keep her warm, which she quickly shut down

You learn, she doesn’t like feeling like prey, dislikes the feeling of being stuck like…well, a fly in a web

Speaking of, insects are strictly off the menu for you

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t encourage you to hunt, though

Often, you spin your webs at the forest surrounding the castle, hoping to bring back a catch that might earn you the favor of her younger sisters and mother

At other times, Bela all but swoons when you trap a particularly delicious maid and deliver her to her as a snack

Still, there is one thing that amuses you to no end…

She loved you, wholeheartedly. And she loved your arachnoid nature, too. She loves every bit of you

So you can’t explain to yourself why your partner is so terribly scared of spiders

The small critters truly do a number on her, prompting screams and shrill squeals, shivers and so on

Always, you ensure there are no spiders in the castle. No webs but your own

…Your lovely girlfriend and her sisters, suffering from arachnophobia

The thought always makes you giggle

Cassandra

Looking back, you can hardly believe your luck

Not only did you survive Mother Miranda’s experimenting, the depths of the village, the infamous basement of castle Dimitrescu and its residents, but also wooed one of them

Having Cassandra sleeping soundly on top of you, your limbs wrapped around her, you allow yourself to think of how you first met

Her eyes, a dark golden light in the dark, piercing you the very same day you were sent to the castle basements

And it seems, you awakened curiosity within the sadist

Of course, a being like you would

Something so rare, someone so unique

While you were originally made to be her newest plaything, a failed experiment handed over, Cassandra had no interest in killing you

Not that this stopped her light torture

Though, looking back, you can’t help but giggle. Even then she showed you affection in her twisted ways

Like when she’d stroke a dagger along your limbs, the touch strong and grounding, her breath fast

She has always been so very curious about you

Your eyes are her favorite part of you

She loves how unsettling they look

Sometimes, she whines; she wants to pluck them from you so very badly, to hold and kiss, to preserve and carry with her always

You have learned to understand and love her twisted affection, her rough words and the gentle, almost romantic meaning behind them

While you could easily get lost in her dark golden eyes, the same goes for her and your eyes

Sometimes, she likes to just stare at them when you cuddle, her eyes desperately trying to meet all of yours

It’s an admittedly adorable sight

And even during your first introduction, when she had grabbed your face harshly, she easily got lost in your eyes

While originally chained to the moldy wall of the basement, you’re upgraded fast

You become her obsession, her pet, her favorite horror in the castle

An honor, really

You know when she calls you her horror, it’s the most romantic thing she can express with words

She loves every part of you, too

Early on already she experiments with you, your cooperative nature catching her slightly by surprise

As such, when she lifted and prodded, cut and sniffed and what not, you always took it as an opportunity to talk to her

Early on, you find out more and more of Cassandra

Later, you learn she often rambles mindlessly when utterly absorbed in her experiments, games, and torture

As such, early on already, you listened as she rambled about her sisters and her hunts

Your presence was always a refreshing one, really

Cassandra is bold

As such, when she noticed just that, and how much she had grown to care for “her experiment”, you were moved from the basement

Quickly, your relationship turned from one of a captive and their tormentor to desire

She clearly desired you, her breaths ragged around you, her heart beating fast, her lip bit, her hands touching up on your limbs eagerly

And you had no reason to hide your attraction, in turn

To this day, you like experimenting with her

In a way, it’s allowing her to get to know you more

Often, her experiments mean working out new techniques to spin webs

At other times, she wants to see how precisely you can control the limbs stemming from your back

With a nice routine of spending nearly every day together, it’s no surprise when you eventually made a move on her

One Cassandra eagerly accepted and returned

She isn’t one for terms, and has never been. You’ve never been her prisoner. Never her friend. Never her partner

Always, you are what she feels

You’re her love, her passion, her horror, her excitement, her desire, her sadism

Due to this, there has hardly been a change after you’ve asked her to be your girlfriend. To her, you’ve always been what you are to her

You’re her partner, despite how she doesn’t like naming what you have

Her favorite couple activity is spending quality time together

She loves to hunt together

Her favorite game?

To chase prey into your web

She laughs loudly when it happens, her pupils wide, her hands twitching

If you ate humans and raw meat as she does, she would grant you the first bite, sometimes

As such, she likes to watch you wrap her prey up and carry it home for her

Her second favorite activity is to experiment with you, and do art together

She likes it particularly much when you spin a web and allow her to direct you, the silky threads assuming a shape to her liking

As it comes to experimenting, she finds it particularly fun when the two of you get to chat, one of your limbs holding onto her or handing her tools

The others are usually made to hold down whatever poor soul has caught her eye and is now to die

But really, her bright smile and manic crackle of laughter seems to make all your remaining morals drip away

Other things she loves is to use your webs to create obstacles when she trains

She knows she can’t achieve Daniela’s speed and precision as it comes to flying and the swarm, but likes to practice either way

And you like to help her by putting webs in her way

Only sometimes does she get stuck, growling and grumbling to you and herself when she’s…well…a fly in the spider’s web

Oddly enough, this doesn’t bother her, yet when even the smallest little spider is near her, she freaks out

Usually, that means you get to flick it away, hunting it down and only granted a rest when you present your love with the creature’s body as proof of its passing

You shake your head, smiling fondly at this, before returning to stroking your long fingers through dark hair. Less thick, more combed and cleaner looking, yet nearly matching yours in color

She hums in her sleep. You know, she will awaken soon, ready to hunt or plead with you to please play with the maids with her

It’s so very fun to see them stumble and cry in the webs, she insists

Daniela

To say Daniela was intrigued by you at first sight would be a vast understatement

Obsessed, more like it

Having been dragged to a lord’s meeting after countless experiments done by Mother Miranda, it’s the first and ideal opportunity to meet everyone

Including the stunning woman by the tall lady’s side

Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters, you learn

Daniela’s eyes are on you the instant you’re revealed to the lords

Gold with specks of green, piercing and curious, obsessed and eager

They flicker across you, your face and body, until they move back and flicker across your face, seemingly searching for eye contact

Eye contact, which proves difficult with the many sets of eyes you have

Oh, but she immediately gets lost in them

You flinch in surprise when she moves, fast, uncaring of the audience the two of you have

She’s pushed against you in an instant, her hands cupping your cheeks

Her skin is nearly as cold as yours, her palms cool as ice

She studies your eyes intensely

While she finds specks of red and purple, you find light shades of green hidden within the pools of gold of her eyes

Both of you immediately seem to fall in love with the sights presented to you

While you’re introduced as nothing but a failed experiment, Daniela immediately sees more in you

She begs, out loud as though she has no shame-

and maybe she doesn’t

- and she pleads:

“Mother, I must have them, please!”

And, you learn early on, Alcina Dimitrescu seems incapable of denying her youngest any wish she has

And in turn, it seems Mother Miranda has difficulty denying Alcina

As such, you’re handed over promptly, officially made Daniela’s property

She’d scoff at the title. You’re hers, though

You’ll be her best friend! Her love! Her soulmate!

She’s not wrong, at the end

For the first time in your life maybe, you feel free, even as you officially “belong to her”

You receive your own wing, even, though it’s near her own

You’re a little surprised at this, though now know that you’re given the entire wing by Alcina Dimitrescu to ensure no intruders would past the deadly webs and manage to find the precious youngest daughter

You’re quite proud of that, too

You like knowing you’re what stands between Daniela and any potentially dangerous intruders

You like knowing your webs will catch them should they sneak where they shouldn’t be

The only things she asks for are honesty, affection, genuine interest and respect

Things you’re eager to give her

In return, you receive time and space, love and affection, honesty and eagerness, care and happiness

While the two of you seem to start out as friends, more builds up between you fast

Daniela, bold as she is, is the first to initiate things, to steal looks and kisses, lingering touches and more

You eagerly give in, and the two of you become impossibly close

As such, you often sleep with her curled in your arms, your arms and legs wrapped around her, your limbs keeping her pressed close to you

She loves cuddling, loves holding your hands while your other limbs are wrapped around her

At other times, she likes to fight for fun with you

It’s a game to her, to evade your webs and limbs, to tackle them only to be smacked away by one of the long, strong limbs stemming from your back

Sometimes- usually- she wins

At other times, she ends up webbed by you, giggling when you make use of the opportunity to place small kisses all over her face

When she hunts on her own, she often takes you with her

She likes to race you, seemingly ignoring that your strength is not your speed, but the tactics and strategic placement of your webs

In the end, she likes to compare who captured the most prey

Often, it’s you, due to the many small animals getting lost in the webs

Though, she usually claims the larger and faster victims

Afterwards, she likes to indulge in snacks with you, often stroking along one of your limbs absently

When you’re spinning your webs, she likes to stay close and watch, occasionally freaking out when bits of her get stuck

She’s whining and snarling then, unable to free herself until you cut the webs loose and tug them from her

Despite liking your webs and being in your arms, Daniela doesn’t enjoy the feeling of being stuck in your webs

Too often has she lost herself as a fly in some spider’s web…

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #🐾🧃 jungle juice anon

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rrenzwrld · 1 year ago

Text

sound of my heart

ony x black reader

first ony piece! i literally just wrote what came to my mind so i’m not sure what’s happening, gets toxic at the end? idk but i wanna write for him more just not anything this…weird. but if you want more of this specific thing, lmk!

the sound of my heart calls out to you, are you listening?

“i’ll pick you up at 8, okay? what do you wanna eat so i can have it when i get you.”

“it doesn’t matter. you know i’ll eat anything.” you heard ony suck his teeth over the phone.

“y/n. you do this all the time.”

“and i’m gonna tell you the same thing, all the time.” you giggled.

“whatever man, i’ll pick you up some tacos or something. just be ready when i get there, aight?”

“mhm.” and with that you hung up to start putting on some decent clothes.

you went to your closet and put on a white tshirt, forest green cargo pants, your new balance, and a gray hoodie. you topped off the outfit with a navy blue hat ony gave you with a tote bag. by the time you got yourself together, ony had texted you saying he was outside of your dorm.

“you meeting ony?” your roommate, jadeja knew by this time that whenever you put something other than sweats and a beanie on, you were probably going to see your boyfriend, ony.

“yeah, i’ll be back though. i’ll text you if i stay out later than planned.”

“okay~have fun!” she winked which made you roll your eyes before going downstairs.

when you got outside, ony was on his phone until he looked up and saw you. a smile instantly appeared on his face as he outstretched his arms to you for a nearly bonecrushing hug.

“i missed you so fuckin much.”

“i can tell.” you giggled while your arms were wrapped around his torso. you didn’t see ony as much anymore just because of all the away games he’s been on. whenever he was on campus, he tried to use those days to spend time with you even if it wasn’t a lot.

“i thought you brought food.” you pouted slightly.

“damn, you worried about the food than me.” he laughed but you felt bad immediately and he saw that. “you know i’m just fuckin with you. it’s in the car.”

once the two of you got to riding, you stopped somewhere to eat your food.

“so, where we going?”

“just a lil party jalen’s throwing. wanted to pop out for him for a lil bit then we can leave.” he knew how much you really didn’t like parties but you didn’t mind it if he was around.

are you listening?

“i would’ve dressed better if i knew you wanted to go to a party—“

“nah you look good. you’re fine,” he looked at you and raised his hand to turn your face towards his. “you look beautiful tonight.”

“liar.” ony knew his effect on you and you knew that he did. he knew what to say to get something out of you and it was true, to him you were the most beautiful girl in the world but the way he said it could make you pool up right in front of him. “we’re nearly dressed the same.”

“don’t care.” ony started up the car and took one last sip of his soda.

“hm?” you heard him, you just wanted to see if he would repeat it.

he shook his head and started driving again.

“nothing.”

you and ony pulled up to the party and he was immediately bombarded by all kinds of people. you didn’t know what to do so you tried to stick by as close as possible. but with the type of person your boyfriend was, you had to let him be the social butterfly that he was. so while he was chatting it up with everyone in the room, you went in the kitchen to pour yourself a drink and stand around with others who didn’t wanna be in the midst of all the commotion. you did recognize some people from your class so you got to talking with some of them just to pass time but you could tell they were getting high and having their own fun away from everyone else.

“so you ony’s girl?” you nodded as you watched the boy take another hit of the blunt in his hand. “you cute. why don’t i ever see you around?” you shrugged, not really feeling the talking anymore. you just wondered where your boyfriend was.

“tamron leave that girl alone. she don’t wanna talk to you and you know how that man get about his bitches.” another girl, lydia, chimed in.

“see ain’t body even talking about allat. i just asked her a question,” tamron turned to you again after addressing what lydia told him. “anyways, why don’t i see you around? you don’t come out like that or something?”

“nah i just stay to myself, don’t go out often.”

“you too pretty to be staying in the house all the time.” tamron was gazing into you like he wanted to eat you or something and admittedly, you were uncomfortable but you knew that the weed and maybe the liquor was making it hard for tamron to notice that.

are you listening?

but before you could come up with your next thought, you saw ony move through the crowd to get to you and you were relieved.

“i hope yall not over here fuckin with my girl.” tamron looked at ony and smiled as if he wasn’t the main one.

“nigga ain’t nobody fucking with your girl—“

“nah tamron letting that blunt get to his head.” tamron looked at lydia and mean mugged her.

“snitch.” he mumbled.

“anyways, we finna leave. y/n, c’mon.” he walked over to you and gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you up off the couch. for ony to be moving this fast after seeming to be having fun, you wondered how exactly he was feeling. on the way out the door, ony said his goodbyes and of course people wanted him to stay but he was set on nearly dragging you behind him. something was weird about how ony was handling you so you stopped once the two of you got near the car.

“the fuck you stopping for? i said c’mon.” he still had a hold on your wrist.

“you been drinking?” ony couldn’t look you in your eyes so you had an answer. “answer me please.”

“yeah, few shots. why?” you could hear the slight slurring in his voice and he couldn’t stay still.

“i’m not bout to let you drink and drive. gimme the keys.” you held out your hand expecting the car keys but he just looked at your hand.

“i’m good.”

“no, ony. gimme the keys.”

“y/n..y/n,” ony laughed softly. “i’m good. promise.” you knew he was lying but he turned away from you and went to the driver’s side of the car.

“gimme the fucking keys! i’m not bout to let you drive with liquor in your system.” you never raised your voice especially at your boyfriend, but you had no choice if you wanted him to listen to you.

“i only had a few shots, that’s it. leave it alone, i’m driving, this my shit. get in the car, y/n.” he was steady stumbling and slurring.

“dumb ass can barely stand up straight,” you walked around to ony and snatched the keys from him. “gimme them keys nigga.” you pushed him out the way and got in the car.

“who the fuck you pushin…” while he was mumbling a bunch of nothing, he went around to the passenger side and got in. the ride back to ony’s apartment was quiet and tense. even though you knew he was drunk and high, the way the combination made him treat you wasn’t what you were used to.

when you finally helped him get into his room, you took off his jacket, shirt, and jeans before pulling a blanket over him. you didn’t have any clothes or anything to stay over so you called an uber back to your dorm and texted you roommate to let her know you were on the way in.

the next morning, you had a small conversation with ony before falling back asleep. when you woke up later in the afternoon, you had some missed calls and a notification from instagram. you checked it and recognized the account as the dude that was trying to talk to you at the party. you ignored it and got up out of bed. you noticed jadeja wasn’t there even thought it was a saturday but you didn’t worry too much after you texted to make sure she was okay.

although you couldn’t really take ony right now, that didn’t stop him from him letting you know he was outside your dorm. you rolled your eyes before getting up and going down to get him and brought him back to your room.

“why you being weird?” you sighed heavily while sitting down in your swivel chair by your desk.

“i’m not, i told you that. i’m just tired.” ony checked his phone.

“you been sleep since 9:30. it’s 2 o’clock right now.” you didn’t mean to sleep that long. “what happened last night?”

“nothing.” even though it made you feel weird, you felt like it wasn’t important enough to address. it wasn’t like he hit you or anything, you just knew it was what was in his system controlling him…which happened often when he got into a specific element.

“you sure?” you nodded. “positive?” you nodded again. ony did feel like something was off but he also knew you had a problem with communicating because you hated conflict if there was any.

are you listening?

“why are you here?” he looked you like you were crazy.

“fuck you mean why i’m here? i came to see what the issue was with you.”

“there’s no issue.” ony shrugged.

“sooo, can i get a hug or something?” no matter the energy, ony just wanted to be around you because he knew he rarely got to see you nowadays.

you got up and wrapped your arms around his waist but something was off. instead of smelling his natural musk or the cologne he’d use all the time, you inhaled a sweeter scent on him as if it was a smell another woman would use. but because you didn’t like conflict, you never said anything.

“i love you.” ony pressed his lips up against your cheek and placed more kisses all over you face, making you giggle. “so much. you love me?”

“of course i love you. always.”

after a few hours ony left and deja came back soon after that with a mutual friend, taylor. deja had been living with you since freshman year so she could tell something was up with your energy so you couldn’t get past telling her your concerns.

“you smelled some other bitch shit on him? oh nah, tell him!”

“deja, that’s dumb. y’know she not gon say nothing to that man and plus, why would he admit to another girl perfume on him?” your friend, taylor, was right. if he wouldn’t admit to it anyway, why waste time by asking? but you also didn’t wanna jump to conclusions and the only way to not do that was to get information straight from the source.

“maybe it was a sister, cousin or something.” you made an excuse

“she got a point…if he had another girl in his space, you have the right to know! and why would his family be down here and you not know? they live 5 hours away.”

“oh don’t worry bout it, texting the nigga right now…” you looked over and saw deja with your phone and tapping away on it.

“deja what the fuck!” you snatched it from her to make sure nothing was sent but the damage was done.

taylor covered her mouth, stiffling her laughs. “you sent it?? he coming over here?”

“nah, we’ll see when he text back.” luckily the message was still on delivered so he hasn’t seen it yet. “you need to learn how to open your mouth when it comes to these niggas. that’s why you keep running into problem after problem. shit, knock them in the head if you need to, they’ll get it.” while you knew deja was right and you and your boyfriend had multiple problems and misunderstandings when it came to communicating, it wasn’t in you to try to start things on your own. but this time and with a little push, you had no choice

are you…listening?

#aot #aot x reader #black reader #aot x black reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader #college athlete au #college au

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gumycandyyy · 1 year ago

Text

୨♡ "ＡｔＹｏｕｒＢｅｃｋＡｎｄＣａｌｌ" ♡୧

Trying out a oneshot! Or something like that idk.

Winter King x reader

Romantic

GN reader

RQ: nah fam, I accept requests though!

Word count: 1390

No use of y/n

Summary: You're adventuring through this interesting little world, and find yourself in a snowstorm. Next thing you know, you're in some kind of ice palace. What happened?

Walking through the snow, you look up into the sky. Cloudy. Best be quick.

A chilly breeze sneaks through the fabric of your shirt and deep into your bones. It would've been better if you'd brought a jacket. Though you didn't think your wish prepared you for that.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"I wish..."

"You better think about this hard, dude. You only get one."

"Okay, okay. I wish... Hm..."

"Want a pickle?"

You agreed to Prismo's offer, gladly taking the snack. You crunched while you thought. Man, these were good pickles.

"Okay man, I'll admit I got nowhere to be, but you were kinda interrupting me. I was watching TV."

You tell Prismo that he can watch while you think, as you hadn't thought you would make it this far. He shrugged, and pressed a button on his remote.

You saw him flipping through channels rapidly, looking for one in particular.

"Hey, Prismo."

"Hm?"

"Are those just.. Shows? Or-"

"Oh, they're universes. Y'know, the multiverse theory right? I just get to watch everything. Perks of being an omnipresent god-type thing."

You think about your wish for another few moments. You snapped your fingers, and Prismo paused the TV.

"You know what you want?"

You nodded, rubbing your hands together.

"I wish that I-" "Be descriptive. Just in case, Y'know?"

You sighed with an exasperated smile. Taking a deep breath, you asked your question.

"I wish that I had the ability to travel freely and safely through the multiverse at will."

Prismo coughed loudly, as if choking on something. He took a deep breath, sighing.

"Okay, okay. So- I actually don't know if I'm allowed to do that."

"sigh."

"Did- did you just say 'sigh'?"

Prismo shook his question off, and sighed himself. He explained to you what he was and wasn't allowed to do, and how you were in a gray area of the rules. He finally shrugged.

"What could go wrong?"

He snapped his fingers, and suddenly you weren't in the time-cube-thingy anymore. You were in a grassy field. You felt something in the back of your pocket, and bringing it out, you saw a small pocket watch.

There was a note folded up and taped to the back of it. The handwriting was almost too small to see.

Yo, this thing is weird, right? Just wind the clock when you wanna change universes.

Don't break it.

I'm serious, this thing is expensive.

So armed with nothing but your wit and a pocketwatch, you traversed throughout the multiverse.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You wished that you would've added 'immortality' to Prismo's wish.

The wind was picking up, whipping your hair around. You looked into the sky, seeing the clouds grow dark, and snow beginning to sprinkle. It was almost astounding how quickly the weather could change.

A few stray snowflakes blew straight into your mouth as you breathed in, causing you to cough. The wind whipped through you, and the snow fell into your eyes. The sky was as dark as ever, and the snow clumping to your feet made it hard to walk.

You wish you thought of bringing a jacket.

You really wish you thought of bringing a jacket.

It didn't even occur to you to leave this universe, you were too cold to think. Stumbling around in this white wasteland, you wondered if there were any towns nearby.

Just as you thought of that, you saw a light in the distance. Struggling to climb up an embarrassingly small hill, you saw a glowing little town next to a palace probably around a quarter mile away. It looked to be made of ice, but that might just be you blurred vision.

You staggered through the snow, just trying to make it to the town.

You stop in place when you realize you can't feel a single thing in your body. Breathing in deep through your nose and cringing at the chilled air, you decided to use up the last of your energy to get to that little town as quickly as possible.

Bringing your arms up and crossing them, you tried to keep as much warmth to your chest as possible. After getting within about 100 paces to the town, you were ready to collapse. You heard light and seasonal music playing from the town, and hummed along deliriously.

People were ice skating on a small lake near you, and you tried to call for help.

But you couldn't get out more than a whisper.

Collapsing into the snow, your vision blurred and darkened. Just as you were about to lose consciousness, you heard a voice.

"Ice scouts! Come help this-"

Then you were out.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next thing you knew, you were inside some glittering blue room. Was this place made of ice? Impossible, you were warm. Looking down, you saw that you were covered in blankets. Fluffy, Warm, blankets... You almost wanted to fall back asleep...

You sat up quickly, realizing you didn't know where you were. You then heard a soft voice from your bedside.

"Oh, you're awake. How are you feeling?"

You looked to your side, seeing a man sitting in a chair, reading some book. You couldn't see its title. The man had light blue skin, white hair, a long nose, and sparkling eyes.

You noticed he was dressed quite elegantly, and a crown sat atop his head.

"Who are you?"

He blinked for a moment, and laughed softly while slapping his forehead. He stood up, brushing himself off.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself. My name is the Winter King. You'd passed out in the snow when my ice scouts and I were not but twenty feet away from you!"

You introduced yourself,and tried to remember what exactly happened, but couldn't. You just had to take the Winter King's word for it.

Wait..

Winter King.

You quickly apologized for being so nonchalant with royalty, but Winter King stopped you.

"Oh, no need for such formalities. You are a guest. It's my duty to serve you. If it would make you feel better, you may just call me Winter."

He sat down again, looking at you. Not in a creepy way, just... curious.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. The air was cold, but not nearly as dreadful as the blizzard outside. You then realized something strange. You asked Winter why it hadn't been pouring snow in the town. He laughs softly, smiling gently at your question.

Man, he was pretty.

"Oh, my dear, I have control over this domain. From every ice sculpture to every snowflake. While sometimes I cannot control the weather, I can however, keep it from affecting my town."

From your basic understanding of magic logic, this seemed plausible enough. You went to stand up, but suddenly felt very fatigued, your legs wavering. Winter stood up from his seat, ready to catch you if need be.

You cleared your throat, sitting down. Only then did you realize how much your throat hurt. You coughed for a moment, trying to get this scratchy feeling out. Winter noticed what you were doing, then gently clapped his hands. A person- looking to be made out of ice- skated into the room, holding a tray with a glass of water on it.

You thanked the little ice servant, and thanked Winter.

Winter seemed a little perplexed that you thanked the servant, but carried on, as it wasn't anything to fuss about.

"I see you're sick. Sometimes I can forget that people aren't immune to the effects of my wondrous realm."

He seemed to be really proud of his little winter wonderland. You looked out a massive window to see the town below.

The town.

You were in the castle.

Huh.

"However, I am more than willing to aid you throughout your journey to regain your health!"

This man cannot be real. He's so incredibly kind! You've never really met any royalty, but you guessed that Winter was pretty much the nicest king in history.

You sneezed into your elbow, then cleared your throat once again.

"Rest for now, my dear. Though, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. I am at your beck and call."

Winter bowed, then gracefully slid out of the room. You forgot the floor was made of ice. Snuggling into the plush pillows and multiple blankets, you closed your eyes,

and drifted off.

︵‿︵‿T B C‿︵‿︵

My first Winter King oneshot! This was so fun to make. Tell me if you'd like a part two!

reblog for a beginner writer?

Your complimentary WK fanart ^^

Please send asks! I love writing prompts!

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orbleglorb · 3 months ago

Text

tumblr in the blaseball universe, part 10

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

image descriptions: the first image is a thick black bar meant to separate posts. the second image is a thin gray bar meant to separate reblogs. they are used continuously throughout the post when appropriate. like right now

☎️ official-jessica-telephone 🔁

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what happens if the real JT wants this URL. it's a part of me now. who do i become if i have to give it up

🐟 offishal-jessica-telephone Follow

she'll have to krill you for it

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

WHO ARE YOU

102 notes

☕ eyesinthedark11

every day with salmon weather for the past few months, my dad has miraculously "found" fresh salmon for us to have for dinner. should i ask him where he's getting it from

#personal #i know the answer. i just need the verbal confirmation

0 notes

Whoops, looks like this post doesn't exist!

🐍 gamer--gorgon

shoutout to the guy (who i think might be in our shadows?) that goes fishing during every salmon game. you should see if you can get anything from the floods

#if he's a shadows guy it's extra funny because he's gotta come up from new jersey #all the shadows share an apartment there #charla said she thought she knew him but every time she tries to get into the stands to talk to him he just disappears lmfao #i get it king. i really do

41 notes

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what do you MEAN they're rebooting supernatural???

35 notes

☕️ eyesinthedark11 🔁

☕️ eyesinthedark11

i understand that this is ostensibly a terrible thing to say but i truly do not think parker macmillan did anything wrong. if my mom was the coin i woulda done worse. i wouldn't have only been passively killing

🦆 peripheral-duck

everyone wants to act all gifted kid burn out fleabag mommy issues #coquette #girlblogger but the minute mommy decides murder is okay if it gets her some money it's all "well why didn't PARKER do anything :/" you fake fucking bitches. bro got cursed to bring destruction in his wake and THEN cursed to wander everywhere. we're not going to question that??

☕️ eyesinthedark11

if the coin was my mom i would have burned the whole earth years ago. not even because of firewalker or anything i woulda just done that

#like you are looking at mommy issues supreme. you show some fucking respect #<- PREV #on one hand it feels really weird to say these things about a Real Guy who is possibly still alive #on the other hand. you fake bitches #if you've reblogged a fleabag quote i don't wanna hear shit from you #'maybe the fireballs didn't know what instability was' valid point! #but that does not mean they're not at fault. you know #idk why everyone expects parker to just. fix everything. #if he's in the vault then he's been 19 for like 50+ years. he suffers more than jesus

5 notes

🐶 catgirlfirefighter

it's somehow the league's best kept secret that mike townsend is deaf. people keep coming to me like, "idk how you're friends with the guy, he just ignored me, he's such a dick" bro he can't hear you. and also yeah he is a huge bitch

#right judgement wrong reason #mike if you're reading this. ily <3

112 notes

🦞 marketplace-shellfish

Hey has anyone heard from that guy who was making the "meatcute is not real and can't hurt me" affirmations recently? I can't tell if it's a bit or not but they haven't posted since.

#blaseball #san francisco #san francisco lovers #hopefully it's nothing and i'm just anxious lol

11 notes

#blaseball #fake tumblr #fake tumblr dash #unreality

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fushigur0ll · 2 years ago

Note

Ok now here me out… you know how that old people filter is going around on TikTok? I think it would be so cute if 42!Miles and you do it and he gets kinda emotional at the thought of growing old with the reader, and also he kinda looks like his dad so it’s a harder blow.

Idk I think it would be cute and kinda sappy cause I love seeing those couples on TikTok try it and be like “that’s how we’ll look when we’re grandparents.” AHHH😭♥️

i’m gonna make this as sentimental as possible</3 thanks for the request boobie snoobie

NOW? LIKE NOW NOW?

꒰ ♡ ꒱ you try out that filter you see everyone doing on tiktok and you show miles and his reaction shocks you

includes ; fluff, kisses, tears and sadness but it’s happy tears and sadness oh and use of the n word! not proof read, finished this long one half asleep, n may be a a tiny bit ooc but..IDGAF this is cute💔

"Why do you always leave a nigga hanging outside your window for so long, baby?" Your boyfriend frowned as his gaze fixated on you, while you kept your eyes glued to your phone, even as you opened the window for him.

"I'm sorry, I was using the bathroom," you replied, finally looking up at him with a smile that made him smile back at you. you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your heart as he leaned down to give you two soft kisses on your lips before fully entering your room

Your room was chilly and cozy, with a gentle breeze flowing in from the now-open window, giving your boyfriend goosebumps that raised the hairs on his forearms. As he looked around, he noticed the soft glow of the low orange and purple LED lights, illuminating the room like a beautiful sunset over Brooklyn. He closed the window behind him, but the cool air remained, just the way you liked it.

"Why are you so glued to your phone?" he asked as he took off his shoes and jacket by your desk. You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through videos on your phone, not looking up from the screen.

"I saw this trend on TikTok, and now I can't stop watching it," you replied, still engrossed in your phone. He hummed and headed to the washroom to freshen up and change into his own clothes that he kept at your place.

After a few minutes, he emerged from the washroom, wearing a black t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and a silver necklace adorning his neck. He saw you in a different position, lying down on the bed with your phone a few inches away, as if you were recording a video.

He walked towards you and sat by your side, watching your face closely. He stared at you without saying anything, and you could sense his intense gaze on you, making you glance up at him with a curious expression.

"What's wrong?" you asked, and he just shook his head and leaned down to kiss you once again.

"nun...you're just beautiful," he whispered, laying his forehead on yours, and you smiled, cupping his left cheek softly.

"And you're even more beautifuler pookie butt," you teased, biting his nose playfully when his face drops. "So weird," you chuckled and shoved your phone to his face, making him widen his eyes for a moment before focusing on the screen.

"What is this, baby?"

"its a filter. this is the trend i found. You just press it, and it shows you how you would look when you're older," you explained, sitting up and making him do the same. You pressed the filter and applied it to your faces. The top half of the screen showed your current selves, while the bottom half showed an older version of you both, which made his breathing stop.

As miles stared at the screen, a wave of emotions washed over him. The longer he gazed at the older version of himself, the more it began to resemble his father. He blinked and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but nothing came out. He continued to blink, feeling the burn of his eyes that he didn't want to experience at the moment. He took a deep breath in, trying to steady himself.

As he looked at your old face, his feelings washed over him like a wave once again. He found you so beautiful, even with a few aging lines and wrinkles on your skin. He stared a bit longer as his train of thoughts went throughout his brain.

Miles didn't just love you, he was in love with you. He always had been. Ever since you both were in the same class together two years ago, and last year you both got together, making it almost two years. He never understood how someone could love him this much. No matter how hard or how high of a wall he built around himself, you managed to climb it or even break it down. He wasn't complaining, but if he knew loving you would be like this, he wouldn't have put up the wall in the first place.

He still remembered the days when you would try to strike up a conversation with him, and he would always be so cold, just to get the point across that he needed to be left alone. But it didn't come through your big ass head. He chuckled to himself, remembering how much he loved— and still loves making fun of your forehead being so big.

He always remembered the times he would find himself staring at you in class when you would sit beside him during the quiet period, just writing notes and doodling cute hearts and faces on his paper. He pretended to be annoyed about it, but secretly loved it. And he wouldn't tell you, but he still had those doodles you used to do in his desk.

Another thing he remembered was when you agreed to being his girlfriend and you both found yourselves at a park, on the playground. You lay in his chest as you both lay on the slide, cuddling close to each other while just looking up at the pretty stars that twinkled and glistened in the night sky. He remembered a story you read with him a few days prior about how the sun loved the moon so much he died every night to let her breathe. He referred to himself as the sun and you to the moon. He would sacrifice himself as long as you got to live a better life. Someone who came into his life just to break down his walls and love and cherish him this much shouldn't have him thinking about the day he wants to marry you, but he finds himself doing just that anyways.

He wonders how you will react when, after you both are done with school, getting a bit older and thinking about moving out of your parents' houses, you consider moving in together. Maybe even getting a pet. He knows you love kittens, and he's seen how you cry happy tears of awe when you see a baby kitty cat. He would make fun of you, and then you would start crying more and more. To cheer you up, he would just start kissing and tickling you, which always 100% of the time works.

Oh, how he loves you so much it brings tears to his eyes. Literally.

You had already put down the camera long ago when you saw Miles lost in thought. But you immediately become concerned and worried when a tear falls down his cheek, even though his face remains blank. You frown and cup his cheeks to direct his face towards yours. You kiss his nose, cheeks, and finally his lips ever so softly, hoping to bring him back to the present moment.

You whisper Miles' name, your voice soft and gentle, not wanting to startle him too harshly out of his train of thought. He blinks once, and another tear rolls down his cheek, and you move your thumb to gently rub it away, your heart aching at the sight of his tears.

"You're crying," you say softly, and Miles inhales softly, exhaling and leaning into your hands with his eyes closing.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, his lips pressing against the palm of your hand. He opens his eyes once more, staring into your beautiful eyes.

"There's no need to apologize, baby. I'm just worried," you respond, your voice equally soft as before. Your words make more tears well up in his eyes, but he holds them in.

As he hums softly, the sound vibrates through his chest and sends a shiver down your spine. he squeezes your thigh once then makes his way up the bed to rest his back against your headboard. As you crawl up the bed towards him, you take in the sight of his broad shoulders and muscular arms. you lay back into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

he wraps his arms around your waist, you feel his strong hands on your skin, kneading and rubbing your soft flesh of your thigh once more. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he leans down to rest his head against you, and he can't help but smile as he recognizes the familiar scent of vanilla and cocoa butter.

As he kisses your bare shoulder, you feel the softness of his lips against your skin, you tilt your head to the side, giving him more access to nuzzle his head into your neck and exhaling softly.

he starts to speak, his voice is a deep rumble in your ear, and vibrations of his chest against your back.

"I was just thinking about something... I never saw so much of my dad in me until now, and that's just very... very scary. I don't like to have him on my mind so much because then I'll just fall into this depressive state, but... I just really, really miss him," Miles trails off

You smile sadly, your heart breaking at the sound of Miles' pain. You tilt your head back to press your lips against his chin, your hand coming up to hold the side of his face so you can bring his face down for your lips to touch his own, conveying all the love and comfort you can offer.

you always loved kissing miles. both of your love languages was just physical affection, him more then you from what he says because

‘you can’t love me more then i love you’

"It's okay to think about your dad once in a while, Miles. That's what keeps his memory alive, right? He's always with you, around this house, outside, and in your heart, baby. Don't ever forget that," you say, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart beats strong and steady. As you speak, the room is filled with a sense of calm with Miles listens intently, his eyes watching you as he takes in every word, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

When you finish speaking, Miles frowns, feeling more tears start to line up in his eyes. He groans and covers his eyes with his arm, feeling overwhelmed by his emotions. You can't help but giggle softly at his reaction, finding it endearing.

Turning around, you straddle him just sitting on-top of his thighs. your fingers tracing small circles on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your touch.

"Look at me," you say, poking his chest playfully. He swats your hand away, giving you a playful glare as he peeks out from under his arm. He sighs and puts it down, his callused hands landing on your thighs.

You feel a the warmth of his hands "Why did you cover your face?" you ask, pinching his cheeks playfully. He gives you a warning glare, but the smile on his face betrays his true feelings. He shakes his head at your antics and starts rubbing your skin slowly up and down.

"...I wanna get married," Miles says suddenly

You freeze, staring at him like he's lost his head. The room falls silent, the only sound that’s there is your breathing and the beating of your hearts. You get curious and comfortable, leaning closer to hear his explanation.

‘now?..like..now now?’ you couldn’t help but think. ‘im not even looking good or ready.. but where’s the ring—‘ your thoughts was cut off by miles snickering underneath you.

“not right now ma, i meant later on in the future” he explains and you nod, understanding way.

"Miles, what are you talking about?" you ask softly, your eyes locking with his. he twists his lips to the side before speaking once more

"I want to marry you," he whispers, You gaze up at him, taking in the way his eyes only look at you.

"You do?" you ask softly, your heart pounding in your chest. All he does is nod his head in response, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You feel a rush of happiness wash over you.

"I want to grow old with you," he continues, his voice steady and sincere. "As corny as that shit sounds, it's true." You can't help but smile at his words, feeling your heart swell with love for him.

"Me seeing us old gave me some sad thoughts," he admits, his expression softening. "But it gave me some hopeful ones too." You listen intently as he speaks, hanging on his every word. You love when he opens up to you like this, sharing his innermost thoughts and feelings with you.

from the time you knew miles, he used to have a hard time expressing himself. He would often be closed off, keeping his emotions bottled up inside. But over time, he's grown more comfortable with sharing his feelings, especially with you. It makes you feel special, knowing that he trusts you enough to be vulnerable with you.

“those hopeful thoughts, most of them, was how i wanted to make you my wife…even though you already are” he winks and squeezes your thigh playfully making you huff and show a small smile. “but for real though, you show me so much love that i never thought you’d do in the first place for me. you’re my first girlfriend and i want you to be my last.” he confesses “i wanna see your old ass make some peach cobbler in the kitchen one day when we have kids and our kids have they kids and you be in there talking about some ‘you ain’t ate all day baby?’ “ you burst into laughter at his attempt to try and sound like a old momma with a raspy voice.

he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist. “but before that, i wanna see you walk down that isle with the dress of your dreams and a pretty smile on that pretty face to get your ring i’ll put on you that’ll make you mine till i’m no longer on this earth”

you couldn’t help but feel yourself about to cry, it was your turn now to groan and shove your face into his chest making him laugh at you.

“wanna be me so bad” he mumbles, kissing your temple and hugging you. you sniffle against his shirt, holding onto him tightly. you were so inlove with this man it makes you so soft

As you look at him now, you can't help but feel grateful for him and the deep connection you share with eachother. it’s something you always wanted to have with someone special and it just so that miles is that one special person

the room was quiet and calm. miles looks down at you you starts drawing circles on his chest, even writing his name and your name inside a big imaginary heart. he chuckles and his chest vibrates making you look up at him just to catch his attention directly on you.

“hi” you whisper and he smiles leaning in closer to your face

“hey” you stuff your face into his chest and hug his tighter.

“..yes” you suddenly speak. miles not knowing what you’re saying yes for, starts to rub your shoulder whilst looking at you in confusion

“hm? whatchu saying yes for?” he asks and you look up at him once more.

“i wanna marry you too” i whisper with a sincere look on your face. he stares before he leans in and kisses you passionately, holding the side of your jaw to make the kiss deeper.

you smile against his lips and enjoy the softness of it on yours. you both savoured the kiss, almost losing air from not wanting to let go. you both unlock lips slowly and you just stare into each-others eyes not wanting this moment to end

“cant believe because of you and that damn filter i’m over here cryin” he grumbles and you just laugh, rubbing the back of his neck

“my softy bootie butt” i tease and he pinches your side

“i take everything i said right back—”

“TOO LATEEE~”

#—fushi’snotes #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spider verse #across the spiderverse #x black reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth42 #across the spiderverse x reader #miles morales fluff #earth42 miles #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #atsv x reader #astv x black reader

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pigeonwbraces · 5 months ago

Text

Did this a while ago forgot to post it

Updated mah Creepypasta/general horror oc Jane Doe aka PIGEON

Other extra facts:

- While she’s mainly used in my Creepypasta au she can also act as her own standalone character used in other horror related projects, as she’s not fully tied to Creepypasta.

- She doesn’t really have a canon age it can be changed depending on the au, however to stay in line with her backstory she will ALWAYS be somewhere under 18 as in her backstory she died before 18, so yeah may not be specified but she’s just generally under 18 can be 10,14, 17 ect ect, personally I go with 13 specifically for my one au but ye doesn’t really matter much.

- fashion sense is weird…all the random fabrics, layers, colors and patterns you can imagine all just randomly tossed on with no sense for what does or does not go together.

- In said Creepypasta au she lives with Clockwork and Ani and considers Clockwork specifically as her cool Aunt.

- described as creepily thin,lanky and eerily tall.

- She doesn’t really have much of a personality due to not knowing who she is, she usually just people watches and imitates those around her otherwise she’s just on her own usually doing pointless things like wander around and just generally creep people out.

- Mildly sociopathic tbh not mean just generally doesn’t feel like a human anymore.

- her hair specifically is based on a now owl but despite that she ended up with the nickname Pigeon cuz she’s honestly kinda useless, she doesn’t even kill people literally just roams around and acts spooky.

- Among all the wandering around there’s been cases of her actually helping both humans and other uh un usual beings like herself occasionally, like said she’s not a violent spirit and she’d help out tho her help is more random and not something she’ll always do in any given situation, there’s been some people who actively try to contact her for help if desperately needed but it’s usually a last second option cuz well it’s like a 50/50 chance Jane will actually help you and not just turn around and go chase that squirrel she just saw.

- Pigeon don’t really talk much 1: cuz there’s generally just not much to say but 2: she also has a really thick hardly knows English has a thick Russian accent and braces. So like even if she did talk you probably wouldn’t be able to understand her to well.

- her hair is actually dyed her natural hair is brown tho with gray streaks caused from frequent stress in her life before death.

- A “side affect” or something of her dying a Jane Doe is that she has the ability to unintentionally be forgotten…as in no matter how weird or out there she looks people will still frequently forget about her and it’s completely at random she has like no control over this ability.

__________________________________________________________________

And outside of all that just idk do what ya want with her I’m fine with anything as long it’s not damaging or Illegal just have fun ig idk-

Edit: Wow I have made so many grammar and writing mistakes…I don’t feel like correct them good luck 🫠

#art #digital art #creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta art #creepypasta oc #oc artwork #horror oc #ghost oc #creepypasta au #oc ref sheet #oc redesign #oc art

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netherfeildren · 2 years ago

Text

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .4

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Mutual masturbation; Come eating; Angst; Vague mention of abortion; Discussions of child neglect; Discussions of unwanted pregnancy

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Some of this is so… phew… idk what came over me or how i come up with some of this shit. sorry (but not really). Joel’s a little nasty in this beware

Art is by Denis Sarazhin.

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

A single person is missing for you, and the whole world is empty.

Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

To think that despite his momentary acquiescence to your need for space, he was not, afterwards, made into a raving, snarling beast prowling its cage after having tasted you, would be fallacy – because that was what he was calling it in his mind, for now. Not yet ready to accept it within himself as a full blown rejection, so yes, for now, space, time.

He returns home with Sarah after the lakehouse – Eva gone off with her girlfriends on an extension of the weekend, wanting to draw out the farewell to summer just a little longer – to their routine of lunches and snacks and daycare and evenings playing mermaids and dinosaurs in the little pool in the backyard that he’d gotten for her at HEB. He tries to be good, to remain calm, controlled, but it’s just short of impossible. He feels as though he still has the taste of you on the surface of his tongue, the sounds of your moans ringing in his ears at all hours of the day, in bed at night, hard and aching and alone, wanting you. This turns out to be a different type of hell to the one he’s usually used to, that of monotony and loneliness and resentment. No, this is burning and painful, a type of fire that whips through his arteries and chars his bones and leaves him dizzy and disoriented.

He’s never experienced something like this before. Not in his entire life.

It is not easy, per se, but productive, to lose himself in his work, and the start of Sarah’s school year. She’s in a 3K program for the fall, her first time going to a real school, and the work and preparation and pure fucking anxiety induced at the thought of his baby going to such a big school is overwhelming. No small feat to accomplish all on his own.

But at night, after he’s worked himself into the ground all day, and read Sarah her bedtime story, at least three times, sometimes up to seven, but never passing ten, that was their very strict rule, and tucked her in and checked the closet and under the bed and behind the door for monsters, when he’s finally found himself alone and quiet and with a spare, but infinitely painful moment to think of you, he lets you in, in full force.

He pulls his shirt up over the back of his head, tossing it into the hamper as he passes his closet into his restroom, undoes his belt and jeans, pulling his contraband from the pocket, to push them off as he reaches to turn on the shower.

As he lets the water heat up, he pauses to look at himself in the mirror. Tall, long frame, still pleasing to a woman, he’d imagine. Well, he hopes so. He’s still strong, his shoulders broad, his chest built from the long hours of hauling and climbing and exhaustive physical labor. There are a few grays threaded through the dark curls at his temples. Sprouting, just in the last year, to remind him that he’s getting older. One of his buddies had told him that eventually everything went gray, everything. That weirded the fuck out of him, to be honest. He hates the thought of you seeing that, thinking of him as old. You’re so much younger than him. So pretty. Too pretty. His middle has gone slightly softer since hitting forty, but only slightly. There’s no helping that. And the small creases at the corners of his eyes… shit, he’s getting old. But his cock is still long and thick, and he’ll give that to you as much as you’ll let him. If you ever let him. All the time if he can. All he has to do is find a way to see you again, to convince you to let him see you again.

He feels a small bitter ribbon of self consciousness curl through his stomach as he takes himself in. He doesn’t want you to think of him as some old man. Some old, sleazy man who’d seen you and been so fucking desperate for you, he hadn’t cared that he was married, that you’re too young for him, that he has a family, and responsibilities and a life, like some pathetic fucking pervert. You’re just so lovely, so soft and pretty and you smell so good, always. And he’s been so alone for so fucking long. He is lonely. And you, you’d looked at him, you’d seen him, you’d wanted him back just as fiercely as he’d wanted you, even if just for a moment. How was he ever supposed to be strong enough to resist that? And further than your wanting, you’re good and kind and smart and so fucking funny and adorable. Joel could be strong when he needed to be, but he could also be weak, and he thinks that you, perhaps, have the power to make him weaker than anything else.

What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the person who you could very well fall, probably, very deeply in love with?

Because yes, even now, he is emotionally aware enough to recognize that. More than anything, he can recognize that he has, as of yet, never been in love, but that you present the great, great possibility for that. And yes, it’s too soon, and maybe nonsensical or crazy or what have you, but Joel has always been a man that’s known himself well. When he knows, he knows, and when he chooses, he chooses, and he is very close to knowing and choosing you.

He looks down at your panties laying on the bathroom counter – the ones he’d stolen. After you’d slipped them off, too wet from your come, from him making you come – they’re his now.

He runs his thumb and forefinger along the silk lace at the edge. They’re a pretty, soft blue. He loves the color blue now. It will, forevermore, be his favorite color after this. The cut in the back is high, he knows the soft flesh of your ass was left mostly uncovered by them, he remembers he felt it when you rode his thigh. He wishes he could have seen it. He hopes he’ll have another chance to see it.

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can imagine that the middle gusset is still damp from you. He brings them to his face, presses them to his nose and inhales deeply. The scent: still faintly musky, but also, slightly sweet. He sticks his tongue out to taste the fabric, and a violent shiver passes through him. He has to clutch at the countertop to hold himself upright. His cock is fully erect and leaking now.

He has to taste you. He has to get the chance to. He’ll die if he doesn’t. He’s sure of it.

He brings the soft lace down to his aching erection. He doesn’t care if he’s disgusting. He doesn’t care about anything. All he wants is to feel you. To temper this fire churning in his blood. He can’t remember the last time his body felt like this, the last time he wanted something this fucking badly he felt like he’d die if he didn’t have it. Maybe never – he doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this. He wraps your panties around his hard length and starts to jack himself off. Strong, tight strokes from base to tip with the tiny, blue silk sliding along his fevered skin. The sound of your orgasm, the look in your eyes as you humped his thigh, ground your little clit on him and soaked his denim. He should’ve touched you more when he had the chance. He wants to fuck you so badly, wants to sink into the tight, wet clutch of your cunt and fuck you full of his come. Mark you. Brand himself into your skin so that you’re never without him. He wants you to smell like him. He wants to feel the wet gush he felt on his jeans on his cock and dripping down his balls, and Jesus fucking Christ, he comes at that. Long, thick ropes of white spend, spitting from his swollen tip at the thought of your pussy coming around him, a desperate whimper escaping in the quiet loneliness of his restroom.

He thinks of you constantly, what seems like every moment of the day, in the weeks that follow. As much as he tries to keep a straight head on, he can’t. He craves you, dreams of you, fucks his hand to the memory of you coming for him, spilling his seed over and over again in the shower at the remembered look in your eyes and the sounds you made for him. He can’t help himself.

Outside of that, everything else in his life is bleak and slow and… and he doesn’t know what else to call it, except for sad and wanting. Lonely. To have touched something so alive, so beautiful and sweet and perfect, and then be forced to return to the barren landscape that is his life in everything outside of his daughter, it’s jarringly difficult to do. He wants to be strong, to do what you asked of him, but it had been so long since he’d really wanted something for himself. Couldn’t remember what the last thing had been, really, and so to now have something to desire, something to want and think of, it makes him weak and fills his head with all kinds of excuses to see you, to call you – he’d forced Tommy to steal your number for him out of Gerri’s phone – to go to your work and wait for you to come out, just so he can catch a single glimpse of you.

He restrains himself from that, though. He forces himself to focus his mind on other things, Sarah and school and playdates, and he works himself like a dog, taking on more contracts than he ever has before. He doesn’t give himself any time to rest, any time to think, and in the few moments that he does, when he stares at your number on the screen of his phone, imagining what it is he’d say to you if he called, if you answered, what the sound of your voice would be like saying hello to him, saying his name, or in the moments when he fucks himself raw and spent and sad, those are the moments when he feels weakest, when he feels most alone, when he’s almost overwhelmed with wanting.

He only lasts a measly three weeks after the lake house before he’s outside of the elementary school, one late Wednesday afternoon during the second week of the new school year. The sky is dark and angry, on the verge of a downpour, and he’s been waiting, agitated and anxious, for about half an hour, before you finally come out the double doors.

The lightest sprinkling of rain is starting up, and he jumps out of his truck’s cab, jacket in hand, to approach you. He says your name softly as he comes up on your side while you’re distracted, digging in your purse for something.

You jump slightly at the sound of his voice and turn your wide, worried eyes on him, “Joel–” your voice, soft and breathy, so sweet, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here? Is Sarah okay?”

He holds his hands up in what he hopes is an appeasing, non-threatening gesture, he doesn’t want you nervous. Fucking Christ, asking for Sarah with that look of worry in your eyes, “Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” how in the fuck is he supposed to not be obsessed with you? “I was just – I was just hoping we could talk, is all.”

You look around at the sparsely filled parking lot, as if searching for witnesses, or perhaps, an escape, but then you turn back to him and pause to take him in. He watches the sweep of your eyes down his body, and then back up, stopping to search for something in his eyes. Whatever you find there must give you the answer you need because you nod your head once, “Alright, we can talk,” you say softly.

“My truck? Can we drive for a bit? I’ll bring you back.” You nod again, and he drapes his jacket over your shoulders to protect you from the drizzle as he leads you to his truck. “S’bout to come down hard,” he murmurs as he opens the passenger door for you, taking your wrist in his hold to help you up into the truck. He can’t help himself, he reaches for your seatbelt and buckles you in himself – is filled with an obscenely embarrassing fizz of pleasure at the gesture of it.

You’re looking at him with the most concerned little frown marring the soft spot between your delicate brows, “Are you okay?” your voice slow and unsure, and then more of him being unable to help himself, to keep his hands to himself, because he reaches up and gently brushes his thumb over the little frowning wrinkle, nods his head once.

“I’m okay, baby.”

He drives for a bit, takes you to a spot up in the hills he likes to come to sometimes when he needs to think. Somewhere the two of you can be alone and quiet, just for a moment. He parks the truck by a copse of trees, a view of Austin on the other side of the two of you. The rain has turned into a violent downpour by now. He shuts off the engine and looks out at the view of the city.

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t bother you – you asked me to stay away, but –” He lets his head fall back against the headrest and sighs, and the sound of it is so weary, pained in a way that’s so very, very sad. It makes you hurt for him. You reach across the center console to grip his bicep, you can’t help yourself. You could see from the first look at his face that something was wrong. You know he wouldn’t have come to look for you if he didn’t need you now.

“You’re not bothering me. I know I shouldn’t, but I wanted to see you too.” You only confess this because of the look in his eyes. The glassy, burdened look of them. You wish that you could climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, press your warmth into him. The rain hits the windshield like bullets, the sound deafening. The world outside of his truck’s cabin seems distorted, as if this liminal space the two of you sit in now, has been carved out of the rest of the real world, and the two of you exist here now, only, together. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” he wraps his hand over yours on his arm, drags his thumb over the smooth little hills of your knuckles. His gaze out the window is so far away, lost, something almost childlike in its desolation. You watch the strong ripple of his neck as he swallows, clears his throat. “Nothing – just wanted to see you. ‘Dunno… Felt so tired today.” He closes his eyes for a moment, “Couldn’t stop myself. Wanted to just give myself this one thing.” He lets his head roll against the seat to look at you, gives you the gentle curve of his crooked smile. So beautiful and so sad, and you can tell that something is endlessly wrong. You feel afraid, for one moment, that he’s going to start crying, the sadness in his eyes is so overwhelming. You don’t think you’ll be able to stand the sight of his tears, you think they might break you. “Just wanted to look at you, to sit here with you, just for a little bit.”

“Alright.” You’re quiet for a beat, watching him watch the rain. Part of you wants to give him space, give him quiet, but you need to know what’s wrong. You can’t bear the look in his eyes right now. “Did something happen?”

He’s silent, as if gathering his thoughts or his strength around him, and then: “Eva had a pregnancy scare this week.” A jagged shiver slices through you.

“What?” You croak, you try to pull your hand back, but he clamps down on your bones, holds you to him. “But I thought–”

He shakes his head, “Not mine.”

“Joel… what? Are– are you–” You blink furiously, at a loss. What do you say to the man who you’re kind of having an affair with when he tells you his wife, who is also seemingly having an affair, might be pregnant with another man’s child? This is all so, so fucked up. So ugly. You swallow, turn to look out at the rain. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t seem to help the tears from pooling. A bombardment of recurring images from your childhood slingshotting through your mind; your mother, leaving, angry, cold, quiet. Always pushing you away. The sound of her crying through her bedroom door, your child’s ear, pressed to the cool grain, trying to get as close to her as possible even though she doesn’t want you. Always shutting you out. Your father, dead to the world on the sofa in the living room, drowning in his liquor and yearning and hurt. The sight of a tall, handsome stranger, coming up the front walk to ring the doorbell, to take your mother away with him. The way he’d crouched down from his great height to ask you what your name was because she hadn’t even bothered to tell the man she was having an affair with, the man she was leaving you for, what your name was.

What is it about being unlovable, you wonder, and why is it that some are cursed with it so cruelly, while others are not?

“Hey,” Joel tugs on your wrist, pulls you closer to him. “I told you, we’re not like that, we’ve never been. I don’t want you thinkin’ somethin’ else, that I haven’t been honest.” He drags the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone, tips your head back to catch your eyes. You let them flutter shut and swallow, open them again. If you talk you’ll cry, but he needs words from you now. You swallow again, shake your head.

“It’s– it’s not that. I believe you. And even if it was otherwise, I have no right–”

“Stop. Don’t say that. You know that isn’t true. You have the right to honesty after what I’ve told you, after what we’ve done.” You try to pull back, but he brings his palm to wrap around the back of your neck and grip you by the scruff. “Stop,” he grits, “Don’t pull away from me.”

You bring your palms up to his chest, clutch at the collar of his shirt. “I’m not. I’m not, I’m sorry. It’s just–” you huff a sharp, bitter laugh, “Sometimes it’s like you’re just telling me the story of my childhood, over and over again. Like you’re living it again for me. This all sounds very pathetically familiar.” A tear finally falls, you can’t help it. A weeper in a long line of weepers, always.

“Sweetheart…” he brushes the track of your tear away with his thumb.

You shake your head. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Is she?”

“She’s fine. Took her to the doctor this morning.”

“God, Joel– I don’t – I don’t know how you do this.” Another tear. You think of your father, how weak, how broken he was after her. He could have never shouldered the things Joel does. You feel very sad, very sorry, for the both of them, as different as they are. You feel sorry for the whole miserable lot of you, really.

“She needed my help, she was scared–” his thumb sweeps a slow, hypnotizing path up and down the back of your neck. The rough callus on his thumb catches at your sensitive skin and makes you feel hot and sweaty and overwhelmed for the feel of it on every other tender place on your body. “Terrified, really. Of being trapped like that again.”

“Trapped?”

“Sarah was never her plan. Neither of us were. She never wanted any of this.”

“You told me the marriage wasn’t conventional… but I didn’t – I didn’t think Sarah was included in that…” Your stories are too similar, the similarities too painfully familiar.

“We met at a bar, it was–” he looks away, and you watch a hot flush flood his cheeks. He’s embarrassed to tell you this. “It was a one night thing. Her birth control failed, and then – it was just – well, ending the pregnancy was never an option for her, and I told her from the get go that I’d do whatever she wanted, support her in anything she chose. She chose to go on with it. So I asked her to marry me, it made sense, it was– it was the convenient thing. At least, at the time – in my mind, it seemed so. But we – we were strangers, there was no connection. And then… I don’t know. It wasn’t, eventually – it wasn’t the right thing, at all, for any of us. She never wanted to be a mother. She told me once, after, that she’d chosen wrong, she’d made the wrong decision. And I always tried to be supportive, but by that time, well – we had Sarah by that time, and I– I loved her more than anything I’d ever loved in my whole life. Didn’t even know it was possible to love anything that much – and it made me so fucking angry with her – to– to hear her say something like that, that she should’ve gotten rid of her. It was – I don’t know – a very complicated and painful thing – for the both of us to grapple with, I guess. But I–” he pauses, takes a deep breath. His eyes shift madly, looking out the window as if the rain will bring with it an explanation or an escape for whatever it is that’s churning inside his mind as he tells you this. “There was never really anything to be angry with, I don’t think. No real reason or focus for my anger. I realized it’s impossible to fault a person for not being what they were never meant to be. She never wanted this. And I hadn’t planned for it, it just happened. And the decisions we made were made, and then things just ended up as they did. Sometimes – I don’t,” he frowns, shaking his head, “I don’t know how to say it, but–” He turns to you now, a wild, pleading look in his eyes, “But how can I say that we made a mistake, without saying that Sarah was a mistake? Because if I’ve ever done a single thing absolutely perfect, in my whole entire life, it’s that little girl. She’s perfect. You know what I mean?”

You nod, swallowing back your tears, “Yes.”

He frowns at you, his eyes filled with infinite tenderness, “Don’t cry, sweetheart.”

“I’m not,” you lie, turning to press the back of your hand to your hot eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s just – it reminds me of myself, of my own mother. She – she was the same, I think. Never meant to be a mother. But not bad. It’s just what it was. And hearing you, hearing this, it makes me so sad for you, for all of you. I’m sorry.” He leans forward, wraps his hand around your jaw to press his brow to your wet cheek and just holds there. The two of you breathe each other in, match the cadence of your breaths to the other. You snake your arms around his broad shoulders to press yourself closer to him. It scares you, this feeling of necessity he forces out of you, like you need him, even this soon, for strength, for comfort, for happiness. You’ve never felt like this before, and it’s coming on so quickly, overwhelming you. You feel like you need him, and if you don’t have him you’ll never be happy for the rest of your life, you’ll never be able to forget him, to let him go. He shifts to nuzzle against your cheek and then your jaw, and then the hot press of his lips to the tender spot behind your ear. A violent tremble moves through you at the feel of his soft mouth against your skin, and you dig your nails harshly into his shoulders.

“I just– lemme just–” he mumbles against your skin, and then that hand wrapped around your jaw is turning your head and forcing your mouth open so that he’s kissing you, licking into your mouth and everything goes tight and painful and white hot inside of you. “Jesus–” he says against your mouth. He forces your head back to deepen the angle, his other hand coming up to fist painfully in your hair, and you whimper into him. His answering groan is deep and rumbling and so, so wanting. Your heart feels like it’s flipping and squeezing and pinching inside your ribcage. You can hear how much he wants you, this, in the cadence of the sounds he makes. The kiss is wet, sloppy, full of teeth and all the desperation and yearning of these past few weeks. The days and days of not seeing him, of remembering your encounter in that dark room at the lake house, the way he’d made you come against his thigh, the sound of his own orgasm, the inhibition, the flush in his cheeks as he spilled in his jeans for you. The desperate, pathetic nights of your cunt stuffed full of your fingers, so wet and aching and still not enough even though you’d made yourself orgasm multiple times at just the memory of him. You claw at his hair and neck and back, you want to draw blood, imprint yourself on him in some way, the same way he’s imprinted himself on you. He brings the hand in your hair down to your waist to press you closer to him. The center console digs painfully into your ribs and you want to climb over it and settle in his lap, but you know you shouldn’t, that if you end up over there you’ll let him fuck you, and that you’ll never come back from that. Not ever. He drags his hand up to your breast, grips the heavy weight in his large palm and squeezes, and it hurts and it feels so, so fucking good that you rip yourself away from his mouth, push at his broad chest to force him away from you. The both of you stare at each other, wide eyed and panting great, heaving gasps. His hair is sticking up at all angles, messy from your pillaging fingers, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed almost feverish.

Oh, you want him so badly. This will be your undoing.

“We– we can’t– I didn’t come here with you for– for that,” you gasp, pressing your fingers to your wet mouth.

“I know– I know– shit, we–” He passes a palm over his mouth, and you feel another tear slide down your burning cheek. You’re surprised you don’t see steam rise at the contact. “Fuck – fuck, baby, please. Please, don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I got carried away– ”

“I’m not crying– I’m not.” Maybe if you say it enough times it’ll be true. You turn to wipe it away on the hill of your shoulder, try to hide your face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you

“I wanted you to. I want it so badly,” you cry, squeezing your eyes shut tight. You feel inconsolable.

“I know– I know.”

You want him so badly, so badly, so badly, you want him to keep touching you forever. “It hurts, Joel. It hurts–”

“Jesus, what hurts? Tell me.” He leans forward, gripping your knee painfully tight, and you press yourself into the door at your back, “Fuck– is that sweet, little cunt aching for me? Tell me, baby.”

You nod

“Fuck, what if– what if we just – just watch each other? What if you pet your cunt for me, and let me watch? Just– just to make the ache go away? Would that be okay?”

You shake your head, unsure, but your hand is clutching his over your knee now, digging your nails into the top of his palm and letting him slowly push your knee open further.

His voice is so coaxing. Oh, he shouldn’t use that tone of voice against you, you’re powerless to it. “You can, it’s okay. It’s just to make the ache go away, it’s okay,” and you have no choice but to capitulate, no desire to not give in.

His palm on your knee slides up your thigh, pushing your skirt to bunch at your hips, and he hooks one finger into the side of your panties to pull them down as you lift your hips, allowing him to divest you of them. So easy, you’re so fucking easy, and you don’t even care. All you can focus on right now is the throbbing ache between your legs.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he says, “Spread your legs… that’s it.”

“Don’t– don’t look–” you stutter as you bring your shaking fingers to your core, and he’s leaning back to undo his belt and drag his zipper down. You can’t look either, you can’t, if you do, you’ll lose, you know it. You see the peripheral movement of him reaching into his clothes to pull the heft of his cock out, the shift of his upper body as he lifts his hips to readjust his pants to free himself. Your cunt is slick and throbbing, painfully swollen.

You watch the movement of his shoulder as he starts to jack himself, “Just your clit first, baby. Soft, little circles, yeah… how does that feel?”

“Good– good, yes.” You’re panting, mouth hanging open. There is fire in his gaze, all for you, only for you.

“Yeah? You need more?”

“Please, Joel–” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but you don’t think it’s for your touch alone.

“Give yourself one finger, sweetheart. Just one – tell me how wet it is? Are you soaked for me?”

You press one finger inside, and yes, yes, your’re fucking soaked for him, you say. He groans at that, the rhythm of his shoulder gets faster. “I have to look, baby. Please, please, I have to see how wet it is.” The tops of his cheeks are flushed red, but as you watch the downward shift of his eyes to your spread sex, the place where you’re impaling yourself with a single finger, his eyes flare, the flush seems to ricochet even higher, hotter. You pull your finger out to cup yourself, hide yourself, burning with shyness and lust, but fuck, the look in his eyes, it’s bright hot, devouring. No one has ever looked at you like that. Never.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he moans, “Put ‘em back in. Fuck yourself, make yourself come. I have to see it.” So fucking gorgeous, you hear him mutter under his breath, and you finally give yourself permission to look down as you stuff two fingers back into your desperate pussy. Fuck your rules, you have to see him.

He’s huge.

Thick and long, the size of his cock is not made smaller by the massive breadth of his fist holding it in a vice-like grip, jacking it, tight and fast. The head is flushed a deep, angry red, the slit at the top weeping a pearly stream of precum that makes your mouth water and the muscles in your pelvis tighten – you want to taste him, you want him to fuck your mouth until you’re forced to swallow his load. There’s a thick vein running up the entire length of the underside of the shaft that you’re sure you’d feel his pulse in if you set your tongue against it. He’s pulled his heavy balls out over the edge of his jeans too, and he cups them and squeezes.

“Spread yourself wider for me – yeah like that… Lemme see you stretch that cunt.”Oh, he’s so dirty.

You’re sucking in quick, shallow gulps of air, on the verge of hyperventilating as you watch his massive palm beat at his cock, almost dizzy with lust, your blood rushing in your head, your pussy sopping wet, tight as a knot. This isn’t enough, you want to stop, you want to go further, you want him to touch you, to climb into his lap, to take that heavy, thick weight inside of you and feel him stretch you to the point of pain. “Don’t look– you shouldn’t look–” you don’t know why you say it, maybe because you feel you have to, but it’s nonsensical when your eyes are glued to him.

“I have to look, baby. Please, don’t ask me that. I have to see it – fuck, you’re so gorgeous, look at you. Prettiest fucking cunt I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Stop,” you moan, arching your back further to crook your fingers inside of yourself, hitching your knees higher to pet at the spongy, tender spot inside you that you’d like him to own. “St– stop– I’m– m’not your baby– don’t– don’t– oh fuck, I’m gonna come–” your eyes roll to the back of your head at the sound of his choked growl, his eyes glued to your stretched sex, the sounds of your wetness and his slick palm echoing in the truck cabin.

“You are, you are – even if you won’t let me touch you, won’t let me have you – you fucking belong to me now. Already, even like this – look at you, about to come for me with just my eyes on you.” His hips start to lift into his fist, his hand almost a blur for how fast he’s fucking himself, teeth gritted, tendons in his strong neck popping starkly under the surface of his flushed, sweaty skin.

“Fuck– fuck, it’s so pretty.”

“Stop– please, Joel, I need–”

“Wanna taste it and fuck it and fill it with my come–”

“Oh my fucking God–” you’re going to come, now, now, it’s right there. You tell him.

“One more finger – lemme see you stretch yourself… yeah like that… my good fucking girl,” grunted as you stuff a third finger inside and start to spasm, mewling high and desperate for him, grinding your clit against the mound of your palm. You want his cock to stretch you like this, and you tell him. The sound he makes at your desperate plea, as if it’s been ripped out of him, painful, desperate, savage. You watch the wide head flush an almost deeper shade, verging on purple now, and he squeezes the base cruelly, his sack fisted tight in his other hand, and he starts to come, a thick white stream of milky spend that makes your mouth water, sliding over his fist and spurting onto his exposed belly. “Oh God, Joel, I want it.” You can’t stop the words, the sight of his orgasm forces them out of you.

“I know, baby, I know. I want to give it to you,” he says through clenched teeth.

You both stay frozen like that for a moment as you come down, panting and staring at each other wide eyed and flushed and trembling. That was, perhaps, no, it was without a doubt, the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced with a man, and you’d barely even touched each other. Pain and pleasure coalesce to leave you shaking and sweating, your skin hypersensitive. You’re scared you’re going to start crying again and scare him, give him the wrong idea – that you’d not liked this, that you’d not wanted this. When the truth is that nothing could ever compare to how much you wanted, needed it. How much you’ll want this forever now. You want to take him inside of you. The sheer force of your desire almost has a flavor, a shape to it. The strength of it, so potent, it is almost made sentient – a living thing.

You pull your wet fingers out, and he snaps forward suddenly, to snatch your hand towards himself and brings the slick digits into his mouth, his tongue laving hot and wet between the spaces, sucking on them. All the while his eyes are zeroed in on the space between your legs, on the place that is still clenching and stretched, so ready and eager for him to fill. You gasp at his ferocity, at the feral look in his eyes because you can see, you can see that almost sentient desire you’re filled with, reflected in his own eyes.

“Joel–” you whisper as he presses one final kiss to the wet tips of your fingers, his eyes fluttering shut as he holds there for one moment.

“I know–” he whispers back, and when his eyes come back to yours, there is such a depth of understanding in them. You realize in this moment, in this shared look, that the two of you are the same in an essential way. It isn’t just your desire that connects the two of you now, it’s so much more. A loneliness, a sentimentality, perhaps, a keen sense of familiarity. That vein of shyness, of being closed off, that fear of opening up, of being hurt, of being left. He’s the same, you can see it, feel it.

You’d never thought you had a very good sense of self identity – your perception of yourself skewed in the image of your mother, of who she was, of her shadow, of the things she’d done, but in this moment, looking into the reflection of Joel’s eyes, you feel you see yourself very clearly, almost securely, for the first time. It is recognition the two of you are sharing now, for some reason, in some way, you recognize him. And you find it ironic, that now, in this moment of all times, when you’re doing the very thing that you’d always been so afraid of, of turning into the thing that you’d always feared because of your mother, it is ironic that you are finally able to cast away her shadow, her image, and see only yourself, so clearly, so wholly, because of him.

And yet, despite the sudden, blinding clarity, oh, it was all so dark, so dark, that it be this man, this unavailable, married, unreachable man, that would make you feel so wholly seen, so understood, so connected.

Your wrist is left wet and sticky where he’s gripped you with his spend covered fingers, but you’re careful not to wipe it away. You want to be left with the tightness of his dried come over your skin.

“Don’t say that we shouldn’t have done that,” he tells you.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“I was going to say that I wish we could do it again – that I wish we could do more.”

“Shit–” he whispers, passes his dry palm over his mouth and then up into his hair, to tug at the messy curls. You move to right your clothes, and he follows your lead, tucking himself back into his jeans. “Me too.”

You let your head rest back against the window as the two of you stare at each other in silence for a moment. It’s comforting, filled with companionship, understanding, the intimacy of the moment the two of you just shared. Your cheeks feel hot and you can’t help but smile at him, just a little, a small laugh escaping, and then he’s returning it, smiling and laughing softly too, until the both of you are wracked with the most ridiculous, schoolyard giggles, like two blushing teenagers. It’s a wonderful moment for the purity of it, the two of you together, laughing. Later, you’re sure it will make you very sad and desperate to relive it, but now, oh, now, it really does feel so wonderful. You wish the two of you could live here forever, together in this moment, in the warm, intimate space of his truck’s cabin.

You talk for hours after that, about nothing and everything. His work and yours, your art, his love of building things, of taking care of things, music and movies and books and Sarah. Always, Sarah.

“She has an obsession with bats right now, weird kid, and there’s a sanctuary up town. We spent a few hours there on Saturday, she loved it. Scampering around in this Snow White princess dress she’s refused to take off for the past three weeks. Won’t part with the damn thing, not even to let me wash it.”

He loves her so much, and it makes your heart pinch and your eyes go hot and weepy. He is, you think, an exceptionally good father, an exceptionally good man.

Eventually, however, it gets late enough that the two of you realize you need to get home. He drives you back to the school in the most comfortable of silences, your hand intertwined reassuringly in his strong embrace. It feels worryingly natural, right.

“Will you let me see you again?” he asks when he pulls up next to your lonely car in the school parking lot.

“I don’t– I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Joel. This will only go further from here if we continue. And I don’t– I can’t be your–” you frown, shaking your head, disgusted at yourself for even having to say the words, “I can’t be your mistress,” you tell him bluntly.

“I would never, never ask that of you.”

“So, then what is it supposed to be? You’re going to leave your wife? That– that isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be the thing that breaks your marriage up, your family, that leaves Sarah in a broken home. I cannot be that.” It would be your worst nightmare come to life.

He says your name in the most serious tone you think he can muster, as if he can imbue the understanding of his words into your stubborn skull with the resonance of it, “There is no marriage to break up. She’s leaving soon, I know it, I can tell. She’s done. She’s leaving Sarah, and I don’t think she’s coming back this time. I don’t think I can let her just – just come in and out of our daughter’s life like that. Something needs to stop or change. I have to do something to make this better for my girl.”

“I understand that, and I can’t– I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hear that for Sarah. For you. Really, I understand more than I can tell you – but still, when it comes to you and I, or you and her – I can’t … I can’t get into that like this. I– I, I don’t–” you pant, “I don’t know. I’m sorry. But I can’t do that, this. Not now.”

“Baby–”

“No, Joel. You don’t understand – I watched my mother cheat on my father my entire childhood, until she up and left us one day, left him. I watched him love her for years, unreturned, suffer for her, and then I watched him kill himself slowly, drink himself to death until I buried him.”

“That isn’t what Eva and I are–”

“I cannot have an affair with you. I know – I know that’s basically what we’re already fucking doing – I know I’m a hypocrite–”

“You’re not–”

“But I can’t also be the reason you leave your marriage. It would kill me – do you understand?” your voice cracks, you’re shocked you’re not crying right now. “Please, Joel.”

He looks at you for a moment, you’re afraid you can see anger in his eyes, but then they go soft, understanding, and he says, “Yeah… yeah, sweetheart. I understand.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you let out a shaky breath, relieved, but at the same time, filled with a sick twist of disappointment. What would you do if he pressed you, if he forced you? You know part of you would like it. “Can I at least call you? Only sometimes, please. Just to talk – to hear your voice.”

You start to shake your head, but when you open your eyes and take in the pleading look in his gaze, you can’t say no. “Alright, yes… yes, you can call me. That’s okay.”

“Can I kiss you? Just once more?” You lean over the console and press your lips to his, sudden and rough, as an answer, your teeth clicking together harshly. Of course, you want to kiss him again, of course.

One long, tight moment, you clutch his wrists to keep them from pulling you in closer, and then you’re pulling back, scrambling out of the truck and forcing yourself away from him. You need to get away before you lose all strength of will and just let him do whatever he wants to you. You hear him get out, as well, and follow you around to your driver’s side door, waiting behind you as you dig for your car keys in your bag. You open the door, and then turn back to him, you can’t help yourself, and he lifts a hand to drag his thumb across your cheekbone, along the edge of your jaw. His eyes look so sad, like he’s afraid this’ll be the last time the two of you ever see each other again. The tears are back and angrily demanding release, but you try and take deep breaths through your nose to keep them at bay while your entire frame shakes and shivers at the restraint. He nods once and leans forward to press a long kiss above your brow, and then he turns and walks back to his truck, gets inside. He waits until you’ve gotten in your own car and are driving away, great heaving sobs wracking your body, overwhelming you, before you see him finally turn his truck on and start to drive back home, back to his wife and child.

Chapter .5

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

End Notes: This was kind of a heavy one, if there’s anything you’d like to chat about (or yell at me for all the angsty bullshit) pls come do so :)

#someone's fic #Joel miller #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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iliketangerines · 7 months ago

Note

hii, i really like ur writings and i always binge reading your masterlist because they're just that good lol.

and do you still take requests? if you do, can you please do tomas who is a vampire and is soo obsessed over fem!reader?

Idk why, I've always associated tomas with gothic vibes (he just gives me vampire/dracula vibes). so, i can imagine him living on a castle alone as a vampire until one day when he was wandering around he suddenly finds reader who is lost and kidnaps her and put her on a cell? (im sorry if this sounds really weird lol). oh and please make tomas dominant because honestly dom!tomas is soo underrated 😔

im sorry if this doesn't make sense lol and it's okay if you don't want to do it! thanks beforehand :)

the castle in the woods

a/n: this is...also going to have to be a part 2...originally gonna be nice and short and then...um...got a bit carried away. also, i do NOT condone this behavior in real life

pairing: vampire!tomas vrbada x gn!reader

warnings: nonconseual blood drinking :)

you shiver as the rain soaks your clothing and sends chills down to your very bone, and the tree leaves do nothing but make the raindrops fat and wet as they fall onto you

clutching your basket closer to your body, you move forward in the stormy weather, trying to find a semblance of shelter in this godforsaken forest

all you wanted was to pick a nice bouquet of flowers for your mother’s birthday, and you friend had suggested a meadow deep in the woods straight ahead

your friend was right, and you had gotten straight to picking the flowers and then had lost track of time as you fell asleep, only waking up to complete darkness and the first few drops of rain on your cheek

then, in the dark of the night, you couldn’t find where you had entered the meadow and now you were utterly and completely lost, about to catch a sickness at this point

still, you have to find some sort of shelter or else you will die out here, the coldness already settling into your bones as the wind screams around you

crashing into another tree in the complete darkness of the night with no moon in the sky, you fall down to the ground and contemplate giving up

then, a flash of lightning that beams down from the sky, you can see the faint reflection of metal gates in front of you

immediately, you perk up and scramble to your feet, wiping your muddy hands on your soaked cloak, and you walk over to the metal gates as quick as you can

as you get closer you realize just how tall the gates are, towering over you as you push at the gates, and they creak open under the weight of your push

you follow along the path, only guided by occasional flash of lightning, and you can see a castle in the distance, dark and gloomy and looking much older than you or your village

something inside you screams danger, and you can feel pinpricks crawling up your spine as you freeze in your tracks as you continue to stare at the castle

thunder laughs in the sky above, dark and angry, and the rain pours down harder

without any choice, you walk briskly to the castle and arrive there in a few short minutes strangely enough, it looked like a much more hefty walk, one meant to be traveled by horses

it didn’t matter, you used the knocker to pound on the entrance of the door, and it’s only a few seconds when the door opens and the face of a pale man with gray hair reveals himself

you shiver and shake and ask if you can come inside and warm up, just until the rain passes and then you’ll take your leave

the man blinks slow at you, nose wrinkling slightly, and he opens the door further to let you inside, gesturing for you to come in

you thank him profusely, shivering and tracking water into the castle, and he closes the door behind you, the clicks and clanks echoing in the empty and vast entry way

it’s dark and cold in here as well, drier than the outside, but somehow you feel colder in here than in the swirling storm outside

the man walks up next to you and asks you to follow him to the living room, and he pauses before saying that his name is Tomas

you nod and through chattering teeth, you introduce yourself and thank him once more as water droplets fall from your body and onto the marble floors

the entire castle is dark but is certainly kept well with how the marble shines beneath your feet and how the statues gleam in the flashes of lightning through the arching windows

yet, there’s not a single maid or butler in sight, just this strange tall man who carries himself much older than he looks

he reaches a dark room, dust free and rather clean and regal and holds his hand out, and he walks into the darkness, the sound of rocks clacking against each other

but then the fire roars to life, and the room is bathed in a warm light, seemingly the only light in this dark castle

the floor is a deep red lush carpet and by the wall, books are stacked neatly and precisely on the bookshelf that extends to the ceiling

a large wooden desk with a rather fancy looking chair sits near the edge of the room, and you toe off your shoes before stepping into the room as to not dirty the lush carpet with mud

by the warm fire, there’s a set of couches and a table for snacks and drinks, much more expensive than your entire cottage house if you had to guess

Tomas looks to you and gestures you over, and you can see clearly that he’s dressed in sleep wear and slippers, looking rather tired for his age

you walk over and untie your cloak and set it near the fire flat on the ground and apologize quietly for interrupting his sleep

he waves you off and says that he is okay and that he does not feel tired, and he eyes you up and down and says he will be right back with some dry clothes for you

before you can even protest, he’s disappeared, leaving you alone in the firelit room to warm and dry your clothes

you strip off the outermost layer of your clothes and set them by the fire, looking around the room for something to hang the clothing on, but you find none

as you put your hands near the fire, turning them front to back to warm them, you can feel exhaustion start to replace the cold feeling in your body, the adrenaline sputtering out as you sit in front of the fire

putting your hands in your face and squishing it, you wake yourself up and stand up, looking to the bookshelf to your right, and you walk on over and browse the titles

you needed to stay awake, just long enough for the storm to pass or for the man to come back, and you pick out a book that has a nice title

flipping to the first page, you start to read, trying to keep your attention on the book as the fire warms and dries the clothes sitting on your body

the sound of footsteps padding along the carpet tears your attention from the book as you look up to Tomas holding up a set of clean and dry clothing

he hands them to you, raising his eyebrows at the book you were reading, and he asks if you’ve read the book before

you laugh and say no but that you wish you had, the book really is riveting, the small library back at home doesn’t even compare to the quality of the books here

the man laughs and says with an amused smile that you should see the actual library in the castle then, and you gape at him, asking that he had more

he nods but insists on you changing first, or else you’ll catch a cold and a shiver runs down your body again as your wet clothing still sticks to your clothing

taking clothing from his hands, he slightly bows his head and then leaves the room for you to change, and you do so quickly

rubbing at the material between your fingertips, it feels much nicer than anything you’ve ever owned, even your nicest gown, and it’s smooth and thin but completely engulfs you

you pull off your underwear, soaked down to every fiber, and place it near the fire, hopefully inconspicuous enough that he didn’t notice you weren’t wearing underwear

pulling the pants of its neat folded state, they’re much too baggy for you to wear, falling down to your ankles even when you tie the drawstrings

you forgo them, the shirt was baggy enough anyway to cover you to halfway down your thighs, and you spread the rest of your clothes by the fire

Tomas calls from outside the room to ask if he can come in, and you say that he can as you stand up carefully and make sure the shirt covered everything indecent

he steps in and blinks, hands clenching onto the tray of tea in his hands, and you thank him again for giving you shelter and dry clothes, bowing as you do so

waving you off, he says it’s no problem and takes a seat on the lush couch across from you, and he asks you what your thoughts are on the book

his large hands comes up to pour a cup of dark tea, darker than any that you’ve seen before, and he slides it over to where you’ve sitten down

you take the cup gratefully, letting it warm your hands further as you take a sip, and you let the flavor sit on your tongue, unsure of exactly what Tomas had put into the tea

he takes his own sip of the tea, placing a sugar cube into his cup, and you ask what kind of tea this is

it’s red tea from china, dark and red and delicious, he explains and you nod and take another sip, letting the rich taste settle into your stomach and warm you

Tomas repeats his question from before, and you perk up and pick the book up, saying that you’ve only gotten a few chapters in but it’s quite a fun read

he laughs and tells you to read the book and tell him your thoughts as you read, he hasn’t someone to read with in ages, and you quirk an eyebrow at him, asking why he doesn’t have one of his maids or butlers read with him them

looking to the side, he says that he has none, he takes care of the castle and grounds by himself, but he doesn’t mind it at all, it takes up the time

you press your lips together and nod, how strange that he took care of the whole castle by himself, even in the distance you could tell how vast the building was and the grounds were expansive

he looks to you and flicks his eyes back down to the book, resting in your hands, and you take another sip of your tea and open the book up to read

it’s not like you had any reading buddies back in your own village either, and the thought of having someone to express opinions about a book you both have read excited you

going through the book, you read quietly and listen to the crackle of the flames, adjusting your position on the couch so that you back rested on the armrest and your legs spread along the cushions

thankfully, the shirt was still baggy enough to hide everything, and Tomas sipped on the rest of his tea before standing up and going to pick out his own book to read

the both of you read in silence, and you let the words of the book envelop around you and bring you into their world

the rain continues to pound against the window as the both of you read and every so often you gasp, and he asks what’s happened in the book

it’s a comfortable routine, and you read about the romance of the two characters in the book, talking to each other and arguing about something

very quickly, the book devolves into something much more raunchier, and your face burns as you close the book to take a second to process what you just read

Tomas asks if everything was okay, and you nod and cross your legs, saying that everything was okay, the book had just made a sudden turn

he tilts his head and asks how, and you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes trailing up the length of your legs before landing on your face once more

you shift in your seat to sit properly again, feet landing on the soft carpet, and you say that you just hadn’t expected the book to delve into more…sexual topics

smiling at you, he just tilts his head, unblinking as he continues to stare at you, eyes flicking downwards, and you cross your arms over your chest, suddenly cold and uncomfortable in the heat of his stare

he seems to notice your discomfort and says that you could skip a few pages ahead, but you would be missing important plot information if you did that

the story had sucked you in unexpectedly, and you did want to know how the story ended

opening the book back in and leaning back into the couch, you start to read where you had left off, trying to not seem so tense as you read about the two characters

you can’t help as you feel arousal pool in your gut, and you cross your legs tightly to try and get rid of some of the tension as you continue to read

your face seems to burn hotter than the fire you sit next to, and you press your lips together as you finally reach the end of the story

there’s a whoosh of air, and you flinch as you find Tomas standing in front of you, leaning over your body and asking if you liked the scene

there’s a sense of dread settling in your bones, and a sense of danger that screams and coils in your gut as he leans in closer, smiling at you

in the gleam of the lightning, you can see his canines glint, long and pointed and how his eyes are a dark red instead of a brown like you had thought

you had walked into a vampire’s home and conversed with a vampire and drank tea with a vampire and now the vampire stood in front of you, smile growing wider as he realizes that you’ve found him out

he laughs, hand planting by your side, and he licks his lips as you tremble in your seat, frozen to your spot as his other hand comes up to grip onto your chin

tilting your chin up, he says that he can hear your heartbeat, can smell the sweet blood running through your veins, can nearly taste your arousal on his tongue

you’re the first human to come to this castle in decades, and he had been so bored, unable to leave the estate, taking care of the same places over and over again

with inhuman strength and speed, everything had just become so easy and boring, but you had walked right into his home, sweet and innocent as a lamb

he thinks he’ll be keeping for a while, his little pet and treat, and before you can even blink he’s moved you, slammed you onto the couch, one thigh in between your legs

the sudden movement makes your head spin, and your hands finally move, scrabbling to hit and scratch him

his hand easily catches yours and pins them above your head, and you squirm and whimper for him to please let you go as he just laughs in your face

he leans in close to your neck, pressing his nose against the flesh, and he breathes in your scent with a deep breath, letting out a contented sigh at the smell

looking back up at you, he says that you’re his now, as long as you’re on his property, you are his and he will play with you as he sees fit

you can’t help it as you start to sob, the weight of the situation settling in as you realize that you will never be able to escape him and that you had become his the second you had saw him

he coos at you, telling you that he won’t hurt you, or at the very least not too much, and that you’ll be well-taken care of

his castle holds everything, gardens with crops, farm animals in the stables outside, fresh water from the wells, a kitchen for cooking all the food, and if you want something, he can get it for you with no problem

you cry out that you want to go home, and Tomas grins at you, saying that you are home now

leaning his head down, his tongue drags along the length of your neck, and he hums at the taste as you whimper and shut your eyes at the feeling

Tomas laughs against your skin as he continues to lick about the length, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses

this time you can’t stop the whimper that leaves your mouth, and he sighs at the sound, mumbling against your skin to stop fighting, that you were going to stay here forever with him and that you would grow more comfortable with the fact if you just stopped struggling

his teeth press against the pulse in your neck, and your breath catches as you start to squirm again, trying to get away from him

he doesn’t care about your struggle and simply presses his weight further into your body, stilling you just long enough for his teeth to break the surface and drink in your blood

you whimper and cry pitifully as he drinks from you, and blood seeps out of his mouth and down your neck slowly

his hands clench tighter onto your wrists as he moans at the taste of your blood, eyes fluttering shut, and it sounds lewd as he continues to drink from you

the sound is wet and loud as he sucks in blood from your neck, drinking and drinking and drinking, and you can feel your head becoming light and see the world start to spin about you

finally he brings his face away from your neck, licking at the last little droplets dripping down his lips, and you can make out through your hazy vision the droplets of blood that have fallen down to his chin

his eyes seem brighter now, red as your blood as you stare at him, and his lips are a deep shade of red as his tongue darts out to wet his lips

you can see how his face has more color in it, how his skin seems to glow and how a flush grows on his cheeks as he continues to stare down at you

he lets go of you, and you leave your wrists above you, body too exhausted to even think about moving and trying to fight against a vampire

he rips at his own sleep shirt, pressing the cloth against your neck to stop the bleeding

your eyes are drooping close and your body feels so heavy as he brings one of your hands down to press against the cloth at your neck

as your eyes finally close, too heavy to stay open, you can feel him kiss your forehead in the haze of sleepiness filling your senses

you wake up to high ceilings and a dark room, only lit by the torch in the corner of the room, and under the comfort of cool dark silk sheets

struggling to sit up, you fight through the dizziness and to observe your surroundings, pulling the covers off of your body and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed

your legs give out from under you immediately, and you fall to the floor, barely catching yourself with your arms as your head violently pounds at your head

there’s a whoosh of air, and you feel strong arms pick you up to deposit you back onto the bed, mumbling that you shouldn’t be up and about so soon

it’s the vampire, Tomas, and you weakly squirm in his arms to try and get away

he sighs at your weak form of protest and simply places you gently onto the bed and pulls the cover back over you, bowing his head slowly and apologizing

it catches you off-guard as he turns his head to the side and awkwardly coughs before continuing, saying that he shouldn’t have taken so much blood

that was what made him apologize, not the fact that he had taken your blood unwillingly, your voice is shrill and much more higher-pitched as you berate him

Tomas says that he’s been starving for years, that no man ever comes by the palace and that he could only drink the blood of the animals he raised in the farm

he was just so desperate for a taste and couldn’t control himself and that perhaps he had gotten a bit carried away with his actions and in words at the prospect of having fresh human blood

licking his lips for just a second, he pauses and says that he doesn’t have to feed for a week now at the very least but that you truly couldn’t leave the grounds anymore and for that, he was sorry

you narrow your eyes at him and ask him what he means by that, and he rubs the back of his neck as he stares at the ground, saying that first you needed to replenish your blood

and that second, he presses his lips together and points at his neck at his own bite marks, and your hand flies up to touch your own neck

there sits two puncture holes that you know his fangs would fit into perfectly, and your mouth gapes open

you would never be able to return, your village was superstitious enough and returning with puncture wounds would seal your death

picking up the closest item next to you, you weakly throw the pillow at him, and it gently poofs at his face before falling onto the floor at his feet

Tomas sighs and picks the pillow up, brushing nonexistent dust off of it and placing it back on the bed next to you, and he says that it really isn’t all that bad

he hadn’t turned you into one of his spawn, so you would still be able to traverse in the sunlight and take walks out in the warmth of the light, explaining as he sits on the edge of the bed

pressing his lips together, the vampire apologizes, saying that he had gotten a bit too excited when you had come up to his castle, willingly, and had been so…unassuming

it had been so long since he had fresh human blood to invigorate him, he shouldn’t have drinken from you, and now you were stuck with him until you died

the reminder of your position makes you hang your head low and tears well in your eyes as you hands grip on tighter to the sheets

he gives you a mournful look and stands up from the edge of the bed and says he’ll give you some time to process everything and when you’re ready to find him

as he leaves, he pauses by the door and says that if you need anything, just ring the bell by the door and he’ll get you whatever you desire

and with that, the door closes behind you, and you’re left alone with your thoughts and your tears

#tangerine writes #mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #mk x you #mk x y/n #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x y/n #smoke x reader #smoke x you #smoke x y/n

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lemonmatronics · 1 year ago

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THE POPPY PLAYTIME CHAPTER 3 TRAILER IS SOOO!,?!.?.!.

What a great treat to wake up to—Excuse me while I go insane and spill some thoughts, reactions, theories, and predictions below please

ahem

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SO LIKE FIRST OFF this chapter is gonna fuck, like this looks SO good holy shit

The setting and environment looks amazing but also the new hands mechanic along with the mask ohhhh this is gonna be FUN

Okay rambling about screenshots I took time

First off the environments look great, holy wow

The house itself looks kinda small so idk if that is the orphanage itself or some kind of set. Cause you can see fake sky walls around it, but like this is Playtime Co they would definitely do that to the orphanage also to give an illusion of outside. Either way it looks GREAT and I’m really excited to explore this setting

Just a nice shot of all the critters

I’m really curious if all the critters are gonna be utilized somehow. We know about Catnap and Dogday already, especially after the trailer itself. Though there was also the footage of Bobby running down the hall, looking like a normal plushie, and possibly seeing Hoppy in the trailer too. (I’ll touch on that later)

New Poster

Definitely looks like some company propaganda to try and keep kids from being afraid of CatNap. Judging by the files we got before looks like the results were a mixed bag. Considering the gas is there in the poster it’s definitely a company only poster, not something they could sell outside. They manipulated this kids so bad man :(

A CLEANER LOOK OF THIS THING,,,

THATS A SKELETON COMING OUT OF PUGAPILLAR’S MOUTH…Like that’s just straight up human remains.

I don’t think we’ve ever seen that before in this game. Like blood yeah plenty but BONES? They’re definitely amping things up for this chapter and I’m 100% here for it.

Besides that there’s a ton of plushies and such stabbed onto this weird thing. Is it a shrine? It doesn’t look like it could really move tbh, and if it was meant to be alive those parts aren’t doing anything to help it.

This poor mf

I’ve seen a lot of people speculate this is DogDay, which is a valid guess, but tbh my first thought was Hoppy. You can tell they have long droopy ears, which lines up with both candidates to me. Though I think the ears look a bit slimmer than what Dog Day’d would be, plus the angle on the head looks more like they’re dropping from the top of the head rather than the sides. I feel like if this was DogDay the whole head silhouette would be different because of the ears, which makes me lean towards Hoppy more.

I know her toy gives her long pointed up ears, but going off art and animation her ears can definitely fold

So I don’t think it’s out of the question that as a Bigger Bodies being her ears could fold over like that, especially while stuck like this.

Now I could be the one wrong here but I really think this is Hoppy. Won’t know until the game itself though so, I won’t treat either as divinities yet. It could just as easily be the case everyone else is right and it is DogDay, there’s evidence for that as well (Again, I’ll touch on that later).

So much happened here where do I even start

Obvious out the bat I guess, Kissy Missy is back!! And looks like Poppy isn’t ditching us alone either! Man I cannot tell it Poppy is good or not at this point, gray area? Trailer dialogue definitely sounded like she was supporting us.

“We’re coming! Just hold on!”

It’s really nice seeing Kissy back, really excited to see how she’s gonna help and play into this. I’ve been on the stance that she’s good ever since she helped in chapter 2 so this is really cathartic for me lmao.

As for what Poppy says here I found it interesting, like really interesting. Like, hearing it the first time made me think she casually confirmed something massive interesting. Granted, actually thinking about it longer, it could mean something else entirely. But was that the whole point?

“What’s happening down here is bigger than all of us. I need you. So we can revenge on those monsters who’ve tortured you, who’ve tortured us.”

“Those monsters who’ve tortured you”

Now, once I thought about it this is most likely referring to the literal monsters in the factory. Huggy, Mommy, CatNap, so on and such. But that’s not what my initial assumption was.

When Poppy referred to “monsters”, by first thought was the people working at the factory. I thought she said people at the factory tortured us.

I thought she confirmed that we’re a toy.

Once I thought about it longer, it doesn’t actually confirm that. But what if that’s the entire point? A double meaning line?

Now the player being a toy theory is something that’s been around since chapter 1, a theory I’ve fully stood by since then and still do. I like to think that’s why our character is completely silent, we’re a toy that can’t speak. Mute toys is something we’ve seen plenty of in the factory, more so than toys that actually talk. (Unless you count stuff like the Smiling Critters cartoon or the cardboard cutouts, but I’m talking purely living beings here.)

So while this doesn’t confirm the theory, this line is definitely throwing wood into the fire for me.

DogDay

Wether or not the chained Bigger Body above us DogDay or Hoppy, we have it confirmed here that DogDay is featured heavily in this chapter as an enemy. Again, I really wonder if the other Smiling Critters will show up as threats as well. Maybe a mixed bag of good and bad critters. If the chained up Bigger Body is DogDay, I wonder why he chases us after we assumingely set him free.

One note I’ll give that is to evidence for the chained bigger body being DogDay is that in the thumbnail you can see a shackle on his wrist

His arms are also long and lanky, which is why I won’t completely rule out it possibly being him there. It’s just as possible that it is him, both feel very plausible to me.

Though looking at the game footage, I’m not sure if can can see anything on his wrists. Additionally his arms look much wider than the one in thumbnail.

Additionally, the DogDay in the thumbnail looks so much like a…mascot suit? You can see seams and stitches all over him. Even other Bigger Bodies don’t look like that. Which is something I wanna give its own post to to figure deeper on.

So is this even the same DogDay at all?

It’s not completely out of the question there could be multiple DogDays, though that begs the question, what about other Smiling Critters? What about other toys as a whole?

Here’s my prediction on it. One Bigger Bodies experiment, and then there’s smaller ones approximately the size of their normal toys.

I think the DogDay in the thumbnail is a result of the Bigger Bodies testing, and the one actually chasing us is just a smaller more “normal” DogDay.

But if that’s true then it begs the question, what about other critters? We’ve seen a smaller Bobby before, does she also have a Bigger Bodies version?

Do they all have a Bigger Bodies equivalent?

Is there still a normal CatNap?

Again, all speculation but this chapter especially is really tickling my brain.

And finally we’ve got the man of the hour

Man he is so much lankier than I thought he would be. That definitely explains why his face was so high up on that one cam footage though. Here I was thinking he’d be bulky!

There isn’t too much to say here other than CatNap is definitely gonna be an imposing threat, and I’m very excited to see him in game. So far we’ve mainly seen him through silhouettes, and light peeks at small portions of his design. Seeing him better is game is gonna be a thrill and I’m so ready for it!

Additionally, just for the sake of adding on, we’ve seen these posters apparently from overseas get spread around lately

Both of these definitely look like they’re meant to be company only posters, ones you’d find in the schooling and orphanage areas.

The left poster telling kids to go inside right away when recess is up, nothing super deep here. Just a peek at the schooling that had here, and that these kids had their lives completely contained within the factory.

The second poster is CatNap telling Huggy to go to sleep, another attempt at convincing children CatNap isn’t dangerous. If Huggy is fine they will be too, right?

Anyways that’s my initial thoughts and reactions right after watching the trailer. VERY excited about this game, it’s been awhile since I’ve been able to brainstorm on my own over a game like this so I’m really looking forward to what this chapter has to give.

#long post #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #catnap #poppy playtime catnap #huggy wuggy #kissy missy #dogday #poppy playtime theory

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writingbyshiloh · 2 years ago

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Cautious yet optimistic and graceful

Part 2 & Part 3

CW: Morally gray reader, Fem!Reader, John Wick type of violence, drinking, Marquis is a bit of an ass, French is not the reader's native language but there are only 2 sentences in French. Both say “City of Lights” but the reader's French is off.(will update as the fic goes)

AN: if the title is still messed up idk what to say I have been working too many hours. I have parts 2 and 3 planned if there is an interest! IDK French sunset times nor the weather so just roll with it. I also watched the entirety of community s4 so if he's ooc blame it on that. No beta

The other managers have it easier you think. If anything goes wrong in New York, that's okay because New York is gritty. Paris has such a large history and many different names that it is hard to include in one hotel. In Casablanca, Sofia has her dogs with her at all times so the hotel is a bit more laid back. Maybe you are just bitter because your hotel in Paris is considered to be the epitome of class. 5-star dining, showing off the best French cheeses, hotel complete with a small vineyard for exclusive house-made wines.

Maybe because you share the city with a very wealthy and powerful agent of the table. Marquis Vincent de Gramont was a thorn in your side. While never made explicit you felt like he had a hand in making you manager.

Whether it was him wanting fresh blood running and influencing the Continental or your previous weapon (swords, often French by some weird coincidence) when you were still doing hits for the high table pulling on some patriotic thread in him. The not knowing gave you small comfort.

You liked the concierge though, a woman named Camielle. You were given the option to fire her but declined wanting to make sure someone understood the hotel, at least during your few years running it.

The gentle buzzing of your desk phone took you out of the work you were doing. Using the back end of your pen you punched the answer button.

“Marquis de Gramont asked if you're free for dinner tonight. I said yes.” Camielle told her, her French accent coming across even on the phone.

You bite back a whine. The threat of Marquis visiting always buzzed in the back of your head and you were sure that while not a member of the high table, he had enough power (in many senses of the word) to fully shut down your hotel. You also never spent time with him alone. You would occultly see him at some “business” even that was far and few between.

You nod your head, before realizing that she couldn't see you.

“What time? Did he say where?”

“Huit. Eight. He said the rooftop.”

You thank her before she hung up, probably to help a guest.

Of course, he did. The location was formal, secluded and your favourite. Should you bring a guard? He won’t kill you, business is forbidden in Continental grounds you thought stabbing your pen against the notepad in front of you.

While replaying the conversation in your head, the realization that he didn’t specify why he wanted to go to dinner hit.

The rooftop was your favourite place in the hotel. Seeing other parts of Paris made the hotel feel small, like a normal business other than a safe haven for the criminal underworld as well as regular tourists alike.

You went up early, earlier than the expected time. You could brainstorm what he wanted to talk about. New ideas that you decided to implement to various levels of success? You're planning on something to do with a section of the Catacombs, but no solid ideas yet.

You kept one security guard by the door, to the roof, while Chidi was someone skulking around somewhere. You talked to the chef before and arranged a menu for the evening. If the Marquis didn't like it you were sure that he would implore you to make changes.

His arrival was heard of before you saw him. A small nod from one of your guards alerted you that he was on his way up. You feel your nerves clawing in your stomach, back to fixating on why he wants this meeting.

While you hate to give him credit, he looks good. A suit that only seems to accentuate his long legs, a stunning red suit jacket, with a black tie and vest all over a white dress shirt. The chains across his vest and ring glinted in the light. He wouldn't be Vincent if not for dressing up like this. You slightly deflated realizing this was probably what he was wearing and not something special to see you.

Bottle of champagne set in the ice bucket, stamped with the Continental embossing. He didn't change your menu so you assumed that he was content with it. Hoping you only had to so small talk with him until the food arrived or he decided to drop some sort of bomb on you.

“The view is beautiful,” he said, gaze burning into you. Wonderful. You have to make small talk before whatever he is here for is here.

You turned your head to see the Elifle tower situated against the evening sky.

“It is.” you agree as you turn your face back to him, realizing that he never looked at the surroundings, but was looking at you.

“C’est la ville du lumier”. Maybe the conversation would go faster if it was in french.

“'La ville lumière'” he corrects you before switching back to English. “You do not use the 'du'”.

Heat rises to your face after making a small mistake in French.

“Sorry. My French is primarily used for business.” You let the last word hang in the air, both knowing what you meant.

“How you do anything is how you do everything, Mademoiselle,” He says changing the subject.

Like being annoying you think in reference to him choosing to call you mademoiselle, most show you respect by calling you The Manager, keeping with the sister hotels. You take a slow sip of your drink, stalling for anything to say.

He places his hand on yours.

“You approached dinner with me like you approach your hotel. Cautious yet optimistic Gracefully.”

You sit in stunned silence. He gives your hand a small squeeze bringing your attention back to him,

“That is a compliment.” he continues. “It is good to see fresh ideas in the Continental.”

You thank him quietly, thoughts racing as you try to pull everything together. He likes your ideas? All of the compliments, his hand on yours, the romantic location. Is he flirting with you? Does his speech about the way you do anything apply to him in the bedroom? What would that even be? Still annoying?

He takes a sip of his wine, the movement snapping you out of your perverted thoughts, finally, you find an opening for actual conversation.

“I was thinking of something underground. With the catacombs? Or something inspired by them.”

You think he mumbled ‘tourist” under his breath but decided to let it slide. He tilts his head indicating you to keep going.

“And something maybe like a speakeasy?” You saw him about to correct you but you kept speaking “Even though France only banned absinthe.”

You expected him to be annoyed and you were only half right. Part of him was irritated, the other part proud that you are learning history.

A slight clearing of the throat grabbed your attention. The food.

“Marquis de Gramont. Manager.” The server nodded toward you both before setting down the plates and leaving.

The dinner a few weeks ago was the first time you spent time with him one on one (as long as you didn't include his guards). However, a quick mutual liking based on annoying each other took place. Almost like childish flirting, if you thought that he would date. Does he have an arranged marriage? You forbid yourself from googling Marquis traditions and rules.

And maybe on the side of your friendship, you had a small crush. You tried to avoid it and push your feelings down to nothing, but a flash of his long legs in his exquisite style, or his voice pulls your feelings back to yourself.

He could just be lonely. You didn't know his exact age but you guessed early 30s. Given the years of practice and training, those successful in your business were older. You were somewhat close to him in age, closer to him than some of the big names.

Giving in you picked up your phone and punched in one of his numbers. While the phone rang you picture one of his staff bringing him the phone, probably on some kind of silver platter. On the few times you called him before one of his staff answered, asking you why you were calling.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle. What do you need?”

Oh shit. That's not his butler. That’s him.

“Do you know much about wine? And are you free tomorrow night?” You try not to sound nervous and unsure on the phone, but his answering threw off your game.

“Oui, and oui.”

Taglist: @heartrot666 (it will not let me tag you :-( )

#Marquis de gramont x reader #john wick movie x reader #Vincent de Gramont x reader #ITS DONE!!!!!!!!! wooohooooo #pls be nice the J/ohn W/ick fandom seems to be bigger than my normal 3 people for r/ed

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