#What you can't see the first time I can see in the hundredth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writingrock · 3 months ago

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before he leaves [1]

pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.

notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable

Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough.

“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”

Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing."

Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.

It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”

“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.

“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration.

“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”

You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.

He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”

You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.

“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”

You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”

Does he really have to go?

“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.

“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter.

“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.

Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.

“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.

“I love you too,” he replies.

You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.

“Text me updates!”

“I will!”

“And when you’re on the plane—”

“I know!”

“And call me when you get to the hotel!”

“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.

Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in.

Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.

You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.

You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.

As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.

Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone.

“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you.

He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you.

“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.”

He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.

You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.

He knows his hero partner will yell at him.

But how could he resist his beautiful wife?

You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.

“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.

“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.

What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.

“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.

“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.

“He’s going to kill you.”

Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.

Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.

He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!”

Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.

“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you.

You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?”

“Eijiro.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together��because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.

Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.

You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.

Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him.

Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.”

You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.

“Five more minutes.”

Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.

But this is also the very late pro-hero.

“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.

He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”

“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.

The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.

“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.

You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.

He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.

He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.

“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”

Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.

Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”

His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.

Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”

Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.

“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.

You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.

Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.

“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before.

“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”

It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie.

You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.

As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.

His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”

He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.

You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.

Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.

Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back.

a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP

border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight

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claymoresword · 5 months ago

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We Bleed The Same | Part: 1

Cersei Lannister x Stark Fem!Reader 🐺

Summary: On the road from Winterfell to King's Landing, Cersei and y/n find themselves reconciling with both old and new feelings as fate seems determined to tear them apart.

Sequel to 'Where's My Love'.

Wordcount: 4k

Pairing: Cersei x Reader

Warnings: smut, g!p reader, mentions of sexual violence & domestic abuse, breeding kink, blowjob/deep throating, unprotected sex, dubious consent, co-dependency, y/n & cersei are soulmates argue with the wall

Note: This was actually a lot of fun, I already can't wait to put out the second part! Anyway, hope you enjoy this one as much as i enjoyed writing it (smut after asterisks)

You have been on the road for what feels like an eternity, the children are growing restless, and so are you, but King's Landing is still weeks away. Your next destination being Castle Darry, by order of the king.

Robert Baratheon is rather fond of his pit stops, and you have half a mind to strangle him for that.

What is meant to be a few weeks on the road has turned into months of long-winded journey.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat for the hundredth time, leaning back against the cushions.

You are certainly looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed, whenever that might be.

Just as you start to grow somewhat comfortable, the litter jerks to an abrupt halt, forcing you to lean forward.

Ned places a firm arm in front of his girls to prevent them from falling forward the same way you had.

“Why have we stopped?” You ask, exasperated. Subsequently, pulling aside the curtain next to you to look out the window, only to be greeted with darkness.

You hadn't realized it was already nightfall.

As you squint, you only manage to make out an open field– the scenery does look beautiful, but this isn't the castle.

“Maybe the king needed a piss again.” Arya remarks, trying her best to look over your shoulder.

You narrow your gaze at your niece, and her inability to keep her thoughts to herself. Although there is full possibility that the girl was correct.

The king had delayed the possession half a dozen times today to relieve himself.

“No..” Sansa utters. “He's being sick.” She observes, and it is swiftly followed by the sound of Robert dry heaving.

You grimace at the noise, no longer concealing your annoyance.

Robert has stopped the journey half a dozen times to do that as well.

“Perhaps if he didn't drink so much..” You start, although your brother interjects before you can say anything else.

“Be quiet, the lot of you.” Ned scolds, and you have to bite back a retort as you petulantly glance out through the curtains again.

Eventually, the litter resumes movement, and you rest your back once more, allowing your mind to wander.

Cersei is no doubt feeling as miserable as you are, if not more.

Had you been given leave to ride with her, perhaps this journey would not be half as excruciating.

You missed her, you crave to hear her voice, to touch her, kiss her.

If you fail to reach Castle Darry by tonight, you aim to find a way inside the queen's litter. Robert is certain to be too drunk to notice anyway.

The journey continues on for several more hours, the repetitive movement of the carriage begins to lull you, you could only fight it for so long before a deep and dreamless slumber manages to take over.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

“Y/n.” You stir to Ned's voice, his hand on your shoulder is like a jolt to your system; you sit up abruptly.

As you come to your senses, you notice that the litter has stopped, Arya and Sansa are no longer beside you.

“We're moving into the castle, I need your help carrying in the food crates.” Ned explains, pulling open the curtains next to you.

“What hour is it?” You ask groggily, still trying to rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I don't know.” Ned responds truthfully. “but I reckon we'll see first light soon.” He finishes, yet you fail to move.

“Come on, you've been asleep for hours.” Your brother insists, he grabs ahold of your hand, forcibly hoisting you up.

As he tugs on your arm, you stumble out of the litter, leaning your weight on Ned as you attempt to find your footing.

You shove him away after you do, scowling at your brother, and his very successful attempt at manhandling you.

“When we get back on the road I am riding on horseback. I'm sick of sitting in that damned thing.” You grumble, gesturing to the carriage behind you before smoothing out your cloak and running your fingers through your hair.

“As you wish, but I refuse to listen to you whine about saddle sores.” Ned says, approaching the stack of crates.

“I am a woman grown, I do not whine.” You contend defensively.

Ned does not heed your remark, nodding towards the large crate impatiently, he braces his hands on the underside of it. “Come, help me.”

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Castle Darry sits atop of a hill in the Riverlands, the climb was steep enough to knock the wind out of you.

By the time you enter through its doors, your chest is heaving. “Seven hells–” You mutter under your breath, although you are quickly distracted by the interior of the palace.

Darry had decently high ceilings, the castle is larger on the inside as it appeared on the outside. Somehow modest and grand all at once.

The stairs, large and winding, are set at the center of the main hall leading up to the bedchambers.

Robert picked a decent place this time around, you'll give him that much.

You stroll past the stairs towards the castle's great hall, observing as Ned approaches the table in the far right, next to a window that overlooks a view of the river.

You spot your nieces and nephews enjoying an early breakfast. Next to them are Cersei's youngest children, Myrcella and Tommen.

Sansa and Myrcella appear caught up in conversation, whilst Arya and Tommen are on their knees, busy feeding Nymeria pieces of charred meat.

Joffrey is nowhere to be seen. This doesn't surprise anyone, in truth. The prince along with his sworn guard often wander about on their own. The boy was always eager to find trouble where he can, that much is evident.

You begin scanning the rest of the hall, you notice the kingsguard along with the queen's men, but no sight of the king or queen themselves.

You can't help the disappointment that settles in your belly, you were hoping to get at least a glimpse of Cersei before heading to bed.

“Where is the queen?” You ask as you take a seat next to Robb and his half-brother, Jon.

You reach for the flagon of spiced wine, pouring it into a cup as you await a response.

Robb merely shrugs as he stuffed a piece of bacon into his mouth, and your other nephew decides to opt for a smart answer.

“With the king, I presume?” Jon remarks, insolent and juvenile.

You quickly wipe the smirk off his face by placing a firm smack against the back of his head.

Jon yelps, reaching up to rub the same spot you had just struck him. “What was that for?”

“I meant, which room is she in?” You rephrase, unamused before lifting the rim of your cup to your lips, taking a large drink.

A burst of nutmeg and cinnamon coats your tongue, when accompanied with the warm, bitter taste of wine, it manages to soothe you.

“I saw her enter the one upstairs, at the end of the hall.” Sansa chimes in, making sure to swallow her food first before addressing you.

You turn your attention towards your niece, a look of gratitude paints your features. “Thank you, Sansa.”

“Hopeless, the both of you.” You remark, reaching out to mess up Robb's head of auburn hair.

You relished the way both boys scowled at you as you left the dining area.

You trudge up the steep stairs leading to the bedchambers. Glancing at the row of rooms to your left, and then to your right.

You mentally curse yourself for failing to clarify with Sansa exactly which room the queen had taken as her own.

After a moment of deliberating, you decide to take a risk, approaching the room on the far left, one hidden behind a large pillar.

You knock twice before resting your hand on the pommel of your sword.

A beat passes and no one answers, though just as you move to walk away, the door opens, and a golden-haired beauty emerges from the dark room.

Your smile happens involuntarily as you pale greys catch Cersei's emerald gaze. Though the queen doesn't reciprocate, instead she pulls you in for a sudden hug.

After a fleeting moment of confusion, you embrace her in return. Your hand rests on the small of her back, the other gently threads through her golden curls.

As your gaze wanders, it is only then you notice a tear in her robe. The silk material fails to cover the bruising on Cersei's arm; the sight makes you stiffen.

The queen fails to speak, so you decide to break the silence first.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, expecting the answer, but Cersei does not grace you with a verbal reply, merely hugging you tighter.

“Do you want me to stay here tonight?” You whisper instead, your lips brush against the shell of the other woman's ear.

Cersei remains quiet for a while, as though considering your request. She pulls back slightly to look at you, her gaze softens as she traces your features with her thumb.

“You can't, Robert's in my bed.” She finally says, and your brows furrow at the prospect.

That old brute laid his hands on her again.

You open your mouth to protest, but as if expecting it, Cersei places her hand over your mouth, stopping you. “Don't– do not say anything, just kiss me.”

With that, the queen leans in, capturing your mouth with her own. The kiss is desperate, and anguished. Cersei moans softly into your mouth as your tongues make contact.

She tastes like lemon and arbor red, and you are content to feel her like this, for all eternity, although the way your lungs burn for air proves your desire to be an impossible one to uphold.

You break away first, tilting your head to kiss her neck. Cersei gasps at the sensation, her fingers clenched tightly around your hair as your mouth finds the base of her jaw.

“I want–” The queen starts, her voice trembling ever so slightly as your mouth continues to move along her tender flesh.

Eventually, Cersei finds the strength to tug on your hair, guiding your face to her own.

“I want to name you my sworn protector, when we get to King's Landing.” The older woman says suddenly. “I will declare it to the council myself.” Cersei adds, and she simply rakes her fingers through your hair at your lack of response.

“Then you'll have reason to be in my quarters.. in my company.. elsewise people will talk.” She explains, and finally, you nod.

The queen's sworn protector. Like you intended to be all those years ago, before things went wrong between the two of you.

“As you wish.. I am your servant.” You conclude, and for the first time tonight a smile covers Cersei's enchanting features.

Striking, delicate and so damned breathtaking.

“Good.” She says, pulling you in for another lingering kiss.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The following week at Darry had been at best, quiet and uneventful. You spent most of your days with your brother and his children and nights waiting for everyone to fall asleep just so you could visit the queen.

Although, you did not have the privilege of seeing her last night. After a long day of hunting with Ned and Robert, you don't recall how you got back to the castle, only that you had awoken this morning with a pounding head.

Not exactly fond of hunting, you did so mainly out of courtesy– as to not give the king cause to be upset.

Robert is as unpleasant on a hunt as he is on any other day, if not more.

Naturally, you drank to dull the ache his company caused, as well as pass the time.

In truth, all you wanted to do is spend your days and nights in bed with Cersei. You had managed to steal moments here and there, but nothing enough to satiate your need for her.

All the more reason to look forward to King's Landing. Once you get to the city you'll be allowed to spend time in the queen's bedchambers under the guise of guarding her from harm.

Then, you'll finally be allowed to do whatever you desire with each other without the danger of being seen.

Tonight, in a welcomed change of pace, you find yourself in the Godswood with Ser Jory Cassel, dull blades in hand.

He is a capable sparring partner, however predictable he might be.

You remind yourself once more that he is a knight, he fights clean like most of them.

Most knights are predictable.

“I cannot be out here for much longer, M'lady. Lord Eddard has tasked me to watch over his daughters tonight.” Ser Jory says as he resumes his stance, lifting his blade.

You shrug, doing the same.

“I understand, Ser. I only mean to fight you until I grow bored.. which shouldn't take long at all.” You jest, and it manages to hit a nerve, as the knight takes a large swing at you.

You deflect the blow before swiftly maneuvering your body away with one foot, causing the knight to stumble forward.

Ser Jory recovers quickly, this time you strike first, and your dull blades kiss with a large clash.

You take the opportunity to get out of the position by flicking your wrist, as a result your sword is released from the blade lock. You twist the blade in your hand once before pointing it at the knight's neck.

The quickest win yet.

Ser Jory sighs, lifting his arms in surrender. “I yield.”

You lower your blade with a grin. Though the man yields quickly, far too easily.

Suddenly, you find yourself hoping the knight isn't letting you win on purpose, or perhaps he is just eager to get inside and resume his post.

Either way, you are not yet satisfied.

As you are just about to request for another round, voices in the distance steal your attention.

You glance over to see men from the kingsguard standing under the Weirwood, gossiping– albeit not very discreetly.

“They were arguing again, the king and queen..”

Ser Jory has since set aside his sparring blade. He walks over to a wooden bench in the corner of the Godswood to fetch his sword belt, fastening it onto his person.

“See you inside, m'lady.” Jory announces as he rushes back into the castle. Although you hardly hear him at all as you inch closer to the pair of knights standing under the Weirwood tree.

You remain partially hidden by the darkness as you listen to their conversation whilst pretending to focus your attention elsewhere.

“I heard she broke his nose.” The kingsguard says.

“He broke hers more like. That's why she sent her handmaids to fetch her a cold compress.” The other knight chimes in, and his words send an unpleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn away, thoughtlessly discarding the practice blade you were holding before grabbing your own sword.

You slip past the main doors of the castle before sprinting up the stairs. You pushed past the pair of guards at the foot of it as they took a moment too long to step aside.

As you reach Cersei's bedchambers you notice that her door is left ajar. You push it open, stepping inside in a panic frenzy, only to nearly trip over Robert's large frame.

The king lays motionless by the door, on a beautifully crafted Myrish carpet. His large belly spilling out of his tunic.

A compelling sight.

You look up to find Cersei standing by the window, a goblet of wine in hand. She smiles as your eyes meet.

Her hair is unkempt, her robe falling off one shoulder, but there is no blood anywhere on her, in fact she appears entirely unharmed.

You turn to shut the door, wincing as it accidentally slams into place. Yet, Robert remains on the floor, unfazed.

“Is he dead?” You quip, circling the king's motionless body and it earns a bitter chuckle from Cersei.

“No, just passed out from drinking too much, I'm afraid.” The queen responds, her own voice slurred.

The queen is drunk.

“Pity.” You remark, as a large noise erupts from the king. The boisterous and grating snore continues every time he breathes.

You tilt your head at the sight of him, Robert Baratheon is a beast, and the worst kind.

You sigh at the thought before turning around, only to find Cersei standing right behind you.

She reaches up instinctively, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck.

“Did he hurt you?” You ask softly, your own hands finding her waist.

Your jaw tenses as Cersei nodded in response.

A blind rage overcomes you then, the sound of Robert snoring agitates you beyond belief, fueling your resentment.

“I could kill him.” You mutter through gritted teeth, and Cersei merely re-focuses her gaze on you, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“You are so adorable.” She whispers, almost mockingly, her lips then meet your neck.

The feeling of her kisses upon your skin slowly causes your anger to dissipate, you find yourself conflicted.

“Cersei–” You attempt, but the queen's mouth against the shell of your ear causes your words to die in your throat.

“Take me to bed..” She says, the scent of lavender in her hair invades your senses, and you find it nearly impossible to think. You are urged to do as she asks, but logic and reason forces you to consider otherwise.

“What?” You ask, and you feel Cersei's teeth graze your ear, she bites your earlobe before pulling back slightly to look at you.

“I want you to fuck me– you do it so well.” She pleads, in a tone that nearly makes your knees buckle.

Cersei runs her fingers through your hair, uninterested in hearing you protest any further.

She escapes your embrace, though not letting go of your hand as she steps over Robert.

The king continues to snore loudly, you are beginning to think the man will not wake for anything at all. He might as well be dead.

“Come.” Cersei coaxes sweetly, tugging on your arm.

You let her guide you without a moment's thought, stepping over the king to follow the queen to her bed.

Cersei lets go of your hand to unlace her robe, she shrugs it off, allowing it to fall on the floor, leaving her as naked as her nameday.

The queen watches you disapprovingly as you stand frozen in place. You observed the way her hips swayed languidly as she approached you.

She reaches south to unfasten your sword belt, gripping your blade by its scabbard before placing it on the floor.

“You are not naked enough.” Cersei points out, with a slight pout. The way she continues to slur her words causes your heart to constrict in your chest.

Even like this, she is breathtaking.

Beautiful.. and so utterly twisted.

You are so in love with her.

Cersei sets her bottom lip in between her teeth with palpable excitement as you obliged her. Unclasping your dark grey doublet, tossing it aside before lifting your tunic over your head.

The queen decides to assist you with your bottom half. Brazenly palming your cock through your breeches, her shoulder slumps in disappointment, unsatisfied with the current flaccid state of your shaft.

“What's wrong?” Cersei asks, her hands move up your body to cup your breast before resting on the nape of your neck once more.

You are unsure of how to respond, you remain overtly aware of the fact that Cersei's husband remained asleep only a few feet away.

You turn to glance at the man but the queen is quick to force your head in place. “Don't look at him.” She scolds before leaning in to capture your lips with her own for a long kiss.

As you aim to slip your tongue inside of her mouth, Cersei pulls away with a demand. “Take off your breeches, come here.”

You observed as Cersei climbed onto the bed, settling on her knees at the edge of it.

The sight admittedly manages to excite you; you feel your cock begin to stir.

You remove your breeches in haste, ridding them heedlessly as you approach the golden haired woman.

Now you stand in front of the bed and Cersei remains in a kneeling position on the edge as she grips the base of your semi-erect shaft. Bringing it up to her lips, she kisses the tip, all while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck–” You groan aloud as Cersei finally takes you into her mouth, her tongue flat against your cock as she begins to suck.

You let out an unsteady breath, reaching down to grip a fistful of her hair, wary of not grabbing too tightly as you allowed Cersei to set her own pace.

The queen continues bobbing her head, taking your cock inside of her mouth in its entirety.

You feel her breathe out through her nose as she takes you in even deeper, pulling another groan from you as the tip of your shaft meets her throat.

You gasp as Cersei keeps going, you notice as tears begin to well up in her eyes before they flutter shut as she takes you further in.

The feeling of her swallowing around your cock makes you see stars, and it nearly causes you to finish right then and there.

“Gods above, Cersei–” You curse incoherently.

The queen chokes on your girth before leaning back to let your cock lay flat against her tongue once more.

She continues to suck dutifully, and you grunt, this time gripping her hair harshly to pull her head back.

You needed to take her, now.

“Enough, come here.” You state, and Cersei lets your cock fall out of her mouth.

She makes a noise of surprise as you harshly met her lips. Cersei kisses you passionately in return, pulling you down on top of her.

As the queen parted her legs for you, you don't give her much warning before reaching in between both of your bodies.

You line the tip of your shaft up to her entrance, and with one swift thrust, you enter her completely, filling Cersei to the hilt.

The older woman lets out a guttural noise at the sensation, followed shortly after by a whimper.

Cersei's nails dig into your back as her entire body trembles uncontrollably.

You turn to check if the king had perhaps awoken at the sound, but again, Cersei does not give you the chance, pulling you in for another kiss.

You decide not to heed caution any longer, you begin moving your hips, steadily increasing the pace.

If the king wakes, you will kill him.

Cersei mewls into your mouth as your cock hits the perfect spot within her, again and again.

Soon, you brace your hands against the bedding on either side of her head as you begin to rut into her wildly.

Cersei lets out a series of broken gasps and moans, followed by a louder whine when she suddenly reaches her peak around your cock.

You observed as the queen writhed underneath you with every thrust afterwards, she wraps her arms around your back weakly, pulling you in even closer.

You steal at the opportunity to take Cersei’s breasts into your mouth. Licking and sucking at them greedily.

She gasps at the feeling, and you soon earn another whine as you maintain your slow thrusts.

“Please..” The queen pleads, and the sound of her desperation alone makes you drunk.

“Fill me with your seed,” Cersei utters against your ear, her legs wrapped around your waist as though not allowing you the opportunity to disobey her.

“I want to feel it quicken inside me. I want to bear your children, your heirs. Only yours.” She continues, deliberately clenching her walls around your girth.

That does it.

Your release comes just as sudden, it is violent and unyielding.

Before you can even think of pulling out, your seed spills out in ropes, thick and warm, filling Cersei's womb, just as she wanted.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister #cersei x reader #cersei lannister smut #g!p reader #fem stark reader #stark reader #ned stark x reader #g!p

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skzstannie · 1 year ago

Text

"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids oneshot #skz imagines #skz ninth member #skz 9th member #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz hurt/comfort #part 1/2

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ashen-char · 8 months ago

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i say that i hate you with a smile on my face 🔞

ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader

warnings: explicit smut so minors get out. hate sex, sex while driving

summary: amber is furious after seeing you with another girl at a party. the only way to deal with her jealousy is to fuck it out of her.

word count: 2700+

By the time the party ends, it's almost 3am. Early hours have always felt so strange to you, so mysterious that liminal time past midnight and before the sun rises. Everything feels slower. Less alive, almost. There aren't any other cars on the street, aren't any lights on in the houses you pass as you make your way back to Amber's.

The radio is off and the streets are quiet. You almost wish that Amber would go right back to yelling at you because at least it wouldn't be this mind-numbing silence. You're so tense, shoulders stiff and defensive, your grip a vice on the wheel.

You had danced with another girl, sure.

Chad had introduced you to some new girl that Liv had befriended and told to come. You can't even remember what her name was. When Liv got roped into a night shift and couldn't go, she'd told her friend to stick to a familiar face.

Really, you think that Chad just wanted to ditch her on you so that Liv wouldn't tear him a new one for leaving her friend while he got wasted. You owed Chad a solid for helping you score a reservation at some fancy restaurant for you and Amber's anniversary after you forgot it, and you didn't see the harm. That was your first mistake.

Amber's expression is unreadable, her grip white-knuckled on her knee as she stares out the window of your car. Speaking first would feel like you lost—you still don't think you did anything wrong, feel that Amber's reaction went way too far. And you're stubborn. But Amber is even more so. And your relationship is more valuable than winning... whatever this is, so

"I didn't do anything," you say for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"You hear how you sound right now?" Amber snarls, her own shoulders tensing up. "That's what everyone says when they're caught. I didn't do anything," she imitates your voice in a whine.

Mocking you? How mature.

Letting go of her knee, Amber folds her arms over her chest, looking away from you again. You can see her roll her eyes and scoff a “whatever” under her breath.

You grit your teeth. Possible responses whir through your brain—a joke, an apology, something to diffuse the situation. You know what you should do, know that Amber’s only jealous because she’s desperate for reassurance from you. But God is it exhausting navigating Amber's complex emotions when she doesn't even care if she hurts yours.

Tonight was supposed to be fun for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to go to a party and have a blast, not get into another stupid argument.

Amber hasn't apologised a single time since you two started dating. She hasn't once promised she'd be better like you always do for her. She had yelled at you the second you two left the party, fighting from the porch all the way to the car. She wouldn’t hear you out even once as you were vehemently denying her accusations. You truly believe that you shouldn’t be the one to apologise. Not this time.

So this time, you don't do that. Your hand reaches out, sliding over to the passenger seat until you're grazing Amber's thigh. "What did you think you saw me do, huh?" you say.

“What are you—"

"You think I touched her?" Your fingers trail their way up. The fabric of her leggings is thin, so you can feel the heat of Amber’s skin as you caress her inner thigh. It’s a tease, a war of nerves, wondering when the other will give in. "Like this?"

Amber's still worked up, blood still pumping; the adrenaline from the argument is rushing through her veins. But you know that no matter how pissed off she is at you, there’s no way she’d push you away. You swear she actually moves closer.

“You would,” Amber challenges. “You know, if I knew you were gonna be another unfaithful piece of shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you.”

You can tell from her tone that she’s trying to rile you up on purpose. Like she’s enjoying getting under your skin. She wants you as heated as she is so it becomes a level playing field. Amber does this whenever you two have a fight, like she's just waiting for you to blow up at her so you feel as insane as she does about you. You know it's all coming from the same place as the jealousy does. She feels so fucking much about you that she's begging for more. Needs retribution so bad. Needs to feel something.

"Sometimes I swear you start fights out of nowhere on purpose," you say. On her upper inner thigh now, your hand squeezes, almost hard enough to bruise. Your thumb runs up down, up down, never quite getting close enough to where she wants it. "Because you like when I touch you while you pretend to hate my guts."

"You're an idiot. Why would I want you to touch me?" Amber clenches her thighs, holding your hand in place, preventing it from slipping back down. You can hear how her breathing gets laboured. She's too stubborn to admit that she wants you to keep going, but you both know it. She can't help the mix of hatred and lust that fuels her veins right now. "I do hate you. I hate you so goddamn much."

A red light. You breathe out in relief.

Finally, your attention doesn't need to be split between the road and this argument. You can see the smile on her face as she swears that she hates you. Good. That wild look in her eyes tells you that you can be more aggressive with her. Amber loves that.

Your hand slips up right where she wants it, until you're cupping at her center. Only a thin scrap of fabric separate your fingers from the cunt you love so much. You could do it. You could tear through her leggings and fuck the shit out of her. Amber's legs part for you and you swear you hear her whimper.

"What would you do if I did flirt with her, huh?" you say. "Would you break up with me?"

"Fuck you," she spits, though with her shortness of breath it sounds more like a plead. "I bet you wanted to get her to some spare room. You're desperate enough. Were you hoping to get your fingers wet with some other bitch even when you went there with your girlfriend?"

Her mouth is so filthy. You should do something about that. Amber shouldn't be allowed to talk right now. "What's your fucking problem? I was with you all night!"

God, this is fun. Amber's grinning and her eyes shine, the golden light coming in from the streetlights and making everything glow. You squeeze. The meat of your palm is grinding up against her clit but it isn't enough. Not with all that clothing between you. She moans, clenching her legs once more, needing more pressure there.

"You're my problem!" Amber shrieks.

Fuck.

The second you're about to leap in and devour Amber in a kiss, the light you're stopped at turns green. The car behind you honks and you're forced to turn your attention back to the road. Amber lets out a frustrated groan at that, that stupid honking throwing the moment entirely.

"You know what, screw this," she says. You hear Amber unclick her seatbelt, and before you can tell her to strap back in she grabs your hand.

"What are you—" You barely get the words out before your hand is shoved down into her leggings.

Amber's soaked. She's as sticky and warm as the last time you touched her, and you know just how good she'd taste right now too. It isn't your dominant hand—that one is busy on the wheel—so you actually haven't touched her with this one before. It's unfamiliar territory and the same all at once. She pushes her panties to the side with her own hand but it'll be yours that she makes do all the work.

"Shut up. I need this." A low guttural sound escapes her lips as she finally, finally feels your hand where she wants it. Her head tilts back and you feel her thighs squeeze at that first sharp sensation of pleasure. "Shut your mouth and drive," she practically hisses.

You have to focus on the road. The guy behind you is already pissed from how slow you were to keep driving after the green light, and how Amber had given him the middle finger. He's driving so close behind you know that a single slip up could mean a crash. You're so fucked. Especially your fingers, which Amber is sliding her slit up and down on, collecting her wetness with a satisfying shlick.

"Amber," you try to warn. As hot as this is, you do not want to get into an accident because your girlfriend was just so horny during a fight.

Her mouth hangs open in pleasure as she rubs her clit against your palm. It's so much better when you can feel her. You wish you could turn to look. But you can feel Amber's eyes on you, probably still glaring at you with the same hateful glare she had earlier.

"She wouldn't be this wet for you," she tells you.

The girl at the party could not be further from your mind right now. "I don't give a shit about her," you admit. "God, you're so wet, baby." You can feel your own excitement between your legs, can see how your windows are starting to fog up as both of your breaths heat the air.

She lets out a moan, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "That's right. Because you're mine." Her nails dig into the flesh of your forearm, a threat to scratch you up if you so much as attempt to move away.

Your fingers slip inside. Two at once. Amber normally likes to play the long game and build up to more, letting you tease her with one sliding in and out until she screams at you for more. But the thrill of the danger and anger and jealousy is getting to both of you. Her hips grind and wind as she rides your fingers, while your other hand desperately grips onto the wheel as you will yourself to concentrate on the road.

"Say it," Amber breathes out. "You're only mine."

A part of you thinks that'd be no fun. "You should've trusted me," you say instead. It's so much more fun when she's seething. It's like her anger is heating up her insides. She feels different. You curve your fingers inside her and she cries out.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah? You loving my fingers in your pussy?" You wriggle the two until you're pressing at the spot that always drives Amber crazy. But it's clumsy. You never use this hand and eventually it'll cramp up and get tired. You know you're doing your job well when she digs her nails in even harder and her hips thrust. Neither of you give a shit when the car behind you honks and overtakes you.

She's too wound up right now, too far gone. Her mouth twists into a vicious smile that you can't see, but you can hear it in her voice. "Y-you wish," Amber struggles out. "You think you're so good. I'm using you here, not the other way around."

She rides your fingers like that for a few minutes. As you had suspected, the lack of practice means that your forearm is already getting tired. As hot as this is, you can't pump as easily as you could if you were on a bed, not worrying about driving. You can tell that Amber is getting frustrated. Maybe that's making it better.

Everything is a blur of rage and lust until you realise you've driven right past her house. Whatever. You're dying to stop the goddamn car and set Amber right. You slam the brakes now that there's no car behind you to hit, sending the car lurching to a stop. Your fingers slide deeper into her cunt with the movement and it makes her scream.

You pull into a residential side street, one even quieter than the rest. Finding a spot to turn off the engine and throw the car into park is easy enough when your brain is putting I need to fuck her right now over safety.

The second that ignition goes off, Amber is already on you. You slip your tired hand away, the other going to her leggings and slipping them off. Her expression is still twisted in that rage that never quite goes away—she hates you, she hates you, she hates you—but she loves you so much when you shove three fingers into her.

You feel her tongue invading your mouth, probing and searching, while her hands continue to grip and claw at your clothes. It's like she's trying to claim you; she wants to take away all evidence of you being your own person, to take away your control.

"Is this what you wanted?" Amber whispers against your mouth. "Why do you make me feel like? You want to see me like this? Huh?"

It's reckless and out of control and perfect. You don't even care that any second you could get caught. You could lose yourself in this moment, in this golden haze that illuminates your fogged up windshield. The car's starting to sway with your movements.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" Her pussy feels so good as you surge your fingers in deeper. "Tell me."

"Like I'm going crazy," she whispers, her voice breaking a little with emotion. It's too much. It was too much then at the party, when she saw you dancing with some other girl, too much when you started touching her.

Everything about what you're doing to her is bringing Amber closer and closer to that point of no return. "Like you're making me crave you." Her hips rock against you again, her breasts soft as they rub against you too.

This is Amber making you feel the way you make her feel. When you dance with other girls, when you don't text back for hours, when you forget your anniversary. Every time you brushed off an insult and didn't let a fight escalate, this is what she wanted. How pent up she must have been, swallowing down the rage and accepting your apologies.

Amber whines when your thumb grazes against her clit. Every bit of her feels like it's tingling and she's practically soaking your lap at this point. "I hate you but I can't live without you." Amber sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "It scares and excites me at the same time. I—I've never cared this much."

You keep pumping right back into her, never stopping, only growing more and more intense. Her body trembles but you're holding her. Amber's hands grasp at your forearm again, like she can't decide whether to push you away or pull you in. You don't know what to say. She was enjoying the fight earlier, instigated it even, but she's so vulnerable now.

"You're the only one I want," is what you end up settling on. Your thumb stops those teasing grazes now, rubbing against her clit proper. Her wetness makes it so easy. "And I am yours."

This is what makes Amber shudder and dissolve in your arms. The tension finally breaks and she starts squirming against you, fingers lodged so deep into her body it's like you're grazing at something deeper, body shaking violently. She's so close, so impossibly close, a moment of pure ecstasy that lasts seconds before falling apart in a burst of heat and pleasure.

"You're mine!" This she shouts so loud you'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn't wake up.

You two fall silent for a moment, both taking slow, shuddering breaths. Amber can feel her brain is still short circuiting, trying to calm down; it's like her stomach has been replaced with a ball of fire.

"Still hate me?" you whisper, leaning in to kiss Amber.

"Just shut up, okay," she murmurs, kissing back happily now, her voice still raw from the edge of tears and the intense orgasm that had wracked her body. "Don't ever do that again."

#mikey madison #amber freeman #mikey madison x reader #amber freeman x reader #scream 2022 #scream 5 #amber freeman smut #wanted to write something short and got carried away lol

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zorosangell · 13 days ago

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Hi there! I hope you are well. I just found your blog and I loved everything you write, I was thinking about a writing that I think I've seen only a brief incorrect quote where Zoro becomes 40-year-old Zoro for a while and the reader, instead of worrying, feels horny seeing Zoro that way and well, I'll leave the rest to your imagination. If you don't feel comfortable with this request, you can ignore it. Thanks anyway 🫶

⛥ﾟ・。 theory

synopsis: the effects of a devil fruit age zoro into a forty year-old version of himself. and after his initial annoyance passes, he grows thankful... as you can't seem to keep your hands off him.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, reader is shameless, reader is down bad for zoro, zoro's a bit of a simp.

a/n: gnawing on the bars of my enclosure I NEED THIS MAN

"Are you gonna stop staring at me any time soon?" Zoro sighed, crossing his thick arms over his chest as he glanced at you out the corner of his eye, voice gruff and seasoned. "'Cause you've been sittin' there with the same look on your face for past thirty minutes..."

"Never," you instantly shook your head, eyes starry as they raked over him for the hundredth time.

Your expression didn't even attempt at concealing the thoughts racing through your mind.

But if they could be attributed to one word, it would be—

Nasty.

"I don't get why you're so riled up..." he scoffed, turning his gaze away from you, cheeks a faint tinge of pink. "I'm out of my prime. My body's all soft..."

He glanced down at his abdomen, annoyed, as what were once rock-hard abs, were now flesh-hard, all of his muscles slightly softer with age.

He'd spent years fine-tuning his body, training and throwing himself at trial after trial in order to hone it into the perfect medium for his swordplay.

Only for all his hard work to be undone in one afternoon.

And only for you to be utterly elated about it.

"I know right!" you beamed, resting a fascinated hand on his stomach, gently caressing his torso.

You sat next to him on your knees, body turned to face him completely so you could get a perfect view of his face.

For the first time in your life, you were thankful for an annoying, D-List devil fruit user—as without that weird man from the last island, you never would've been able to experience the sight that was your swordsman in his forties.

At least... not for another twenty years.

Besides, you didn't let the appearance fool you.

Your swordsman was just as strong, if not more, in this body—he just had a little extra beef, is all.

And you were absolutely loving it.

"I thought you liked my muscles?" Zoro raised a brow, still lost at how cool you were with all this.

When he got changed, he thought you wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole, or at least steer clear until it wore off, in fear of things becoming awkward.

But you were all over him—even more so than usual.

"I love your muscles," you admitted, shamelessly. "But there's something about you older that's just..."

You smiled a coy smile, looking off to the side as you let out a sigh of content, your face painting him a perfect picture.

"(y/n)... at this age, I'm old enough to be your dad," Zoro deadpanned, face burning at your insinuation.

"You act like that's supposed to deter me..."

"(Y/N)!"

"I'm just being honest! You're hot, Zoro! I don't know what else you want from me!"

Embarrassed, the man turned away from you, glancing out at sea in an attempt to hide it.

'Crazy woman...'

Some days, he just didn't understand you.

"Don't give me that face," you scoffed, giving his shoulder a soft smack. "You're telling me that if I was turned into a forty year-old bombshell, you wouldn't be into it? ...At all?"

Zoro paused, taking a moment to think.

You... your curves and hips filled out even more than they already were, acting as perfect places to rest his hands.

You... your stomach and thighs thick with some pudge, primed for grabbing and kneading.

You... your tits slightly bigger, enlarged by the children you'd given him.

You... your voice slightly deeper, seasoned with enough age and wisdom to give you a permanent bedroom voice.

It sounded like a dream.

He smirked, eyes flicking to the crow's nest—where the bastard who changed him was being locked up—with a faint glimmer.

A dream... he was more than willing to indulge in.

Without warning, he stood up from the bench, tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing.

You let out a yelp of surprise, face burning as your hands quickly moved to cover your skirt, not wanting to accidentally flash the crew.

"Zoro! What are you—?! You can't just grab me!" you flushed, mortified, as he began to walk toward the crow's nest, holding you as if you were a sack of potatoes. "Where are we even going?!"

Amused, Zoro let out a devious, knowing chuckle, his hand giving your thigh a quick squeeze.

"I got a theory I wanna test... and I need your help..."

And if his theory was right, you two wouldn't be making it out his room for the rest of the night.

#zorosangell #one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #op

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imaginariumwanderer · 3 months ago

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Mkay last post before logging off. Featuring silly pixel art I made w/ my mouse.

This chart was actually made out of pure self-indulgent a while back with no intention of being posted, I ended up scribbling(?) all over the thing. Hopefully it's readable when zoomed in.

It's "my ship in 5 minutes" but I can make it 30 if you want. WARNING: Tons of sappy yapping+pixel art download under cut.

About "tropes": The trope is called Angel-Devil shipping, oh but I don't think PV is an angel. He's more like a God for SM (at least that's my preference)… Thinking at all the possible tropes that suits them make me really wonder why some people consider Shadowvanilla a crack/pro ship. Enemies to lovers or villain/hero ships have been pretty archetypal since the day of olds. Compared to all the ships I've encountered in the past… Shadowvanilla is more or less the "slightly out of the norm" on the "problematic ships scale" <- typing this out make me feel like an old fandom veteran haha

About "how it happens": I have no idea where to put PV on that chart. He's the one who approached first, but not out of romantic intents, him falling for SM is as unexpected as can be. SM fell first and slowly, and in 'slow' I meant decades upon decades. It's inevitable, painfully so, spending all those years watching over this cookie who's so perfect in his imperfections, how could one not feel something? Of course it's not so simple, that 'something' is a horrid mixture of disgust, envy, hatred, understanding, both the need to preserve and destroy… And maybeee the tiniest crumb of affection? SM realized something around the first couple hundredth years mark, he then spends the next thousands in denial of it. No matter. Whether it's PV or the Soul jam, his birth-given rights. SM knows what he wants and he WILL get what he wants. (He's wrong on both fronts. And somewhere in the back of his mind, SM knows that. But he'll never admit it. He'll never ever admit anything. Until it's too late. In a way, the same goes for PV)

About a certain someone who's not clingy, but would die for attention: I think PV gets lonely easily. As he's hyper-aware of himself and considerate of others, appearing clingy is the last thing PV wants. So PV would put extra efforts in taking care of those around him, be it cookies, animals or the greenery in his garden. A healer is always busy, always helpful. If he's always needed by others then he would never be afraid of being alone. Ironically enough, this ended up making PV come off as a little overbearing. As of late, the only ones able to see through the facade are Hollyberry cookie and you-know-who.

Other scattered thoughts: These two are completely different yet can't be more similar, on the various sliding scales they're either stuck to one another or are flung to both ends. On another note, honestly I can't see these two doing anything domestic together, the most I can see is cooking, which is basically the same as magic in the cookie world. Anyways, are they in "love"? Are they dating? Not really, no. It's more of a a parasitic-turned-symbiotic-soulbond, a will-they-won't-they-destroy-the-world situationship (iykyk) I do enjoy relationships that's hard to put into words. Their feelings are somehow romantic, somewhat deranged and something much, much deeper.

My desire to ship these two comes from the desire to see them grow beyound their archetypes. Being with PV does give SM the chance to be horrible as can be, yeah, but I'd like to think SM does have a personality outside of being a villainous tormentor. He spends so long observing others, and now for the first time he's being seen. Now SM have met someone who can see right through him, who can glimpse into those dammed vulnerabilities of his. Being with SM does let us see PV in his darkest moments, but it's at the same time the moments where PV can shine the most, to prove SM that his ideals isn't naïveté or simple platitudes. In canon, SM+PV works well as enemies, but it is the many contradictions born when romance is added into the mix that got me shipping. They simultaneously break down and bolster one another's greatest traits. Like binary stars, they orbit around the other, so close yet so far apart, lest they collide. They could've been so perfect for each other. But not in this life, or the next, or the next...

Pixel art time! I have way too much fun w/ Smilk's many faces, his and PV's combined came to around 22 expressions. These are quick to made due to their small size (25x25 px). Zip file includes both the og and 75x75 sizes. I don't mind if any Vanilla milkshakers might use these, just please remember to read the my art terms and conditions first! (which can be found in my About)

Some disclaimer: some images may have different names. This is the first time I'm using Getuploader so sorry if something broke.

Link

#I think about them a normal amount #been waiting to be weird and ranty all week pls let me have this #all this yap and I still haven't run out of things to talk about #it's not even half of my Shadowvanilla thoughts(tm)#I'm COOKED #crk #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #art #fanart #pixel art #stuff i draw #headcanon #ship template

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drrden · 20 days ago

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‘Nostalgia’ Leon Kennedy x Gender Neutral!Reader

Leon's your husband in this one. It's fluff!

Leon's a patient man. A very patient man. But when the high-end restaurant bails out on your reservation for your tenth wedding anniversary? He's not exactly happy. For what seems to be the hundredth time, he asks the waiter about it. Once again, not wanting to lash out at some teenager trying to earn an extra few bucks by waiting tables, "Can I speak to your manager? Please?" When the waiter shakes his head and keeps his lips firmly shut in a straight line, Leon sighs and turns around - looking at you helplessly. "Sweetheart. I'm not going crazy, am I? Restaurants haven't just suddenly started giving away reserved tables for some sort of special event, right?" Running his fingers through his hair, a shaky sigh escapes his lips and he grumbles to himself about it being unfair to you mainly, rather than him. He even got a suit tailored especially for today, and it just so happens to be pouring outside! So, by the time the two of you get to his Ford Mustang (which, he surprisingly hasn't crashed yet) you'd he absolutely drenched. Therefore unable to go to some other fancy place unless you were willing to get a few weird stares.

With the uncomfortable silence from the server, Leon offers a tight smile and gives up eventually. "Never mind. I get it, this isn't your fault." Nodding, he intertwines his fingers with yours and hesitates before exiting the restaurant, rushing over to one of the parasols outside as to prevent getting you wet - as much as possible, at least. Seeing the look of frustration on his face, you place your free hand on his chest. "Leon, it's fine. I'm not disappointed or anything." Only to be met with his blue eyes boring into yours, looking unhappy. "But I'm disappointed, I want to spend our wedding anniversary together properly." Your attention drifts to a certain golden glow, like a beacon of hope from above. No. You have so much to live for, surely you can't die now-. Ah. Never mind, it's just the golden arches of McDonald's. It takes you back to your first date with him all that time ago, the fresher-faced young man having been so nervous in just proposing the idea of going out to eat somewhere. Anywhere, as long as it was with you.

You'd looked so effortlessly amazing all the time to him, and it made him feel intimidated. Not that you could be at fault, of course. Just his heart and the way he seemed to be drawn to you like a moth to a flame, like the waves of the ocean to the sand on the beach. It was a sudden question, "Go out with me?", that he was just as least expecting of as you were. Like his mouth worked before his mind and he blurted out something that was oddly bold. For him, at least. In some positive turn of luck, you'd accepted without hesitation, whether it being out of pity or not was something only you knew at the time. Or maybe it was those indefinitely soft baby blue eyes of his in which seemed to never fail in reflecting his deepest thoughts and feelings. How desperate he was to spend some time with you outside of your friend group. Having grown a little fed up of the teasing from your mutual friends about his supposed unrequited feelings for you. The memory's a fond one. Even though the date was simple and attended on a whim, it resulted in a lifetime relationship full of love and mutual respect. Turns out, if you're with the right person, then McDonald's can be romantic. A place for feelings and relationships to bloom.

Before you can stop yourself, you're pulling him along excitedly to the fast food restaurant. Footsteps quickened as to not ruin your clothes, unwilling to waste a good expensive new outfit all because of an unfortunate turn of events at that place. The restaurant was pretentious, anyways. Dorsia, or whatever it's called. "Uhh, honey? Where are we going?" Despite having asked so many questions already, it seems Leon's intent on asking a few more - hellbent on not wanting to seem like a failure of a husband in your eyes. He still gets those moments of insecurity. Then, his eyes follow your line of vision and the reflection of the McDonald's sign reflects within his eyes. Those eyes of his that have changed so much. But if you look, just close enough, there's moments where they seem to go back in time. To the bright, youthful young man with a lust for life, an eagerness for chasing whatever dreams he has. The semblance of this almost forgotten version of himself can only be recognised when he looks at you. That same doting expression of adoration, totally and utterly filled to the brim with devotion and love.

"Cute." He muses, letting go of your hand and rushing forward, holding the door open for you with a charming grin. Watching you go past him, he follows suit, taking out his card. The least thing he could do for you is pay, right? After all, tonight was supposed to be a treat for you and a display of his unwavering love for you. So, looks like he'll be spoiling you with fast food tonight, as opposed to some overly expensive foreign dish that couldn't even feed a house and keep it happy. Ushering you to sit down, he knows what you like to order at any food place at this point, Leon heads to the counter and places an order. Crossing his arms over his chest, causing his dark blue blazer to strain against the muscle in his upper back. Whilst he does look out of place here, one thing that he never fails to look anywhere is damn gorgeous. Never has the mere sight of him not caused you to go all sappy inside and reminisce on your past whilst fantasizing about your future together. Holding the tray of various food items, he approaches the table and places it gently upon the table. How chivalrous. "Bone apple tea." A wink following the corny pun. Acting like any waiter in a posh dining hall, he bows. And then steals the opportunity from being near your face and brushes his lips against yours in a quick peck. You laugh softly once he crosses over the table and sits opposite you, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "What a gracious waiter. Maybe I'd ought to tip you." Taking your food from your tray, you're met with Leon's hand stopping you, placing his fingers atop yours. As if about to say something potentially life-shaping. Only it's, "I've got a few ideas on how you can tip me, sweetheart."

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impish-baby · 3 months ago

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I can’t wait to see more of the twins or the dad!

Oc intro: Marcus - ♥️

His blood is boiling, hands clenched into tight fists as the man takes a deep breath in an effort to reign in his temper. Marcus has always been a serious man, including with his children, and now one of them has run off to God knows where? Unacceptable.

Seriously... leaving without a word? Making everyone worry? What possible excuse do you have? None. The man scoffs, rearranging the papers on his desk for the hundredth time. Brat.

He can't help but ponder what bad influences might be a part of this, he was a fool not to keep a closer eye on you. No matter. It's not like you'll be allowed out of the house once you're found, let alone to speak to anyone that isn't immediate family. Marcus truly does not care if you're an adult in the eyes of the law, obviously you're not mature enough to make your own decisions.

He does regret not giving his child the attention they needed, he... regrets the same with all his children. Words are cheap however, and Marcus can only change his actions in the present. His youngest needs to be returned safely home before anything else, that is the first step in getting his family back together.

#famial yandere #platonic yandere #yandere age regression #yandere agere #forced age regression #platonic yandere x reader #forced agere #yandere x reader #you've got mail! 📨#oc: home is where the heart is 💕🏠#oc: marcus ♥️

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miiyas · 4 months ago

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Hello! Can you do an angst to comfort fic with Sakusa x yn or atsumu x yn. Thank you! Sorry if there really isn't a plot, I can't think of one.

WANT TO (want you)

atsumu thinks he can’t face your parents ever again. you try to convince him otherwise.

slight angst to fluff, wc: 1.2k, pre-ts, gn reader, not proof read

petty arguments with atsumu are frequent. from which sushi place was the best to which side of the bed he would take when cuddling you before your parents kick him out. it’s all stupid, atsumu knows, but it’s what builds you two up, he likes to think. so, when the topic of him meeting your parents come up, atsumu is a little too quick to refuse which makes you a little irritated. simple conversation turns into a dull argument, and dull argument turns into the stubborn atsumu miya you know.

“that was months ago, ‘tsumu. i keep telling you, they’re not gonna kick you out again !”

“hell yes they’re gon’ kick me out ! i looked like a brainless idiot when i first met yer ma ‘n pa !” you had to pause for a moment and silently agree to your boyfriends words. he did make a fool of himself the first time he met your father, breaking one of your mothers favorite pair of collectible shot glasses, ones with little designs of vacation spots the family would go to. she loved to collect them, and your pretty little boyfriend broke a pair.

you roll your eyes, sighing for which seemed like the hundredth time this whole evening. you shift your weight to one leg and cross your arms, upset and tired of this whole dilemma and it showed clearly on your face.

the kitchen lights in the miya household was the only thing illuminating the space, shining down to cast a soft glow on both you and your boyfriends face. the soft chirping of cicadas filled the momentary quiet and tense atmosphere.

in atsumus eyes, there’s a pretty pout on your lips, one that he itches to kiss off, but his pride is on the line and holds him back. he can’t show up to your house in front of your parents without anything to distract the memory of such an embarrassing moment, he believes. no amount of volleyball medals, boxed fruits, and gifts could fix this.

then, your voice cuts through his rapid thoughts, making him blink at you a few times.

“fine,” you wave off, throwing your hands down to your sides as if in defeat. “have it your way then.” with that, you make your way towards the genkan and quickly slip on your shoes. atsumu remains still in the kitchen, the hairs on the back of his neck rising slightly as he hears the doors close and signal your departure.

“… shit.”

from the list of a few things you hated about your boyfriend, one was about how stupidly stubborn he was. how he always argued that he was right when in reality (and factually), you were the right one. atsumu likes to say that you wouldn’t get this out of anyone else, that he was the only one with this special personality and ability.

so it came to you as a surprise when he showed up in front of your house half past midnight with a small bouquet of your favorite flowers (which you swear you only mentioned a few months ago) in his big, calloused hands.

embarrassment and a hint of guilt— that’s what his face looked like. dark hazel eyes avoiding your gaze as he darts them to the side, thick brows pinched together slightly. one hand slips into the pocket of his sweats as he shuffles his footing slightly, the other pushing the bouquet gently towards you.

“‘tsumu, it’s like, twelve thirty—”

“ma said ‘ta get you flowers.” he mumbles, gaze now fixated on the flowers. he’s not exactly looking at you, but in his peripheral vision, he sees you slowly lift your arms to take the flowers into gentle hands, your fingers brush against his knuckles softly as you do so. atsumu drops his hand as you take it, stuffing it in his pocket and fidgeting slightly.

the rustle of the plastic around the stem of the flower makes him lift his head. there’s a soft, gentle look in your eyes, something that he holds dear and god, if you two weren’t in high school right now, he’d buy a pretty ring and marry you on the spot.

there’s a few moments of silence in the air, the light illuminating your door front flickering once.

“… you didn’t have to.”

“i wanted to.”

“your ma wanted you to.” you correct him and he simply nods and agrees, shaking his stiff head. there’s another wave of silence, cicadas chirping quietly in the distance as you lift your head to meet your boyfriends gaze. he looked like he was glowing, blonde hair shining softly as the lamp light reflects against him. atsumu takes a shaky breath and wets his lips, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth as he prepares to speak again. atsumus voice is a little dry. low and gentle, contrast to his usual snarky and loud behavior.

“… i want to.”

you blink in confusion. want to what ? it was odd enough for him to show up in the middle of them night, but it was odder for him to just say ‘i want to.’ before you could ask him, he speaks again, finishing his sentence.

“i want to meet your parents again.”

this time, atsumus voice is clearer, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly and the movement in is pockets displayed that he was nervous, reminding you of when he first confessed in that empty classroom a year back. you blink a few times, a soft smile grazing your lips as you let out a dry chuckle.

“thought you didn’t want to.” atsumu irks at your statement, grumbling under his breath as to how he ‘changed his mind’ and how ‘he can change his mind whenever he wants.’ your dry chuckle turns into one of slight amusement, taking a step closer towards him. the bouquet whines in your hand, begging for more attention but you only cup your boyfriends pretty face, climbing up on your tip toes to place a feathery kiss on his chin. you can feel his body stiffen at your angel touch, frustrated brows relaxing as he watches your face come in contact with his.

“i’ll do everything,” he whispers, taking his hands out of his sweats and places his left in your hair while the other cups your face, thumb brushing against your cheeks. “i’ll make reservations for the best restaurant here. i’ll woo yer ma first then go on my knees and beg to yer pa to gimme a second chance.”

heat pricks up in your cheeks as you let of a soft laughter, a lips tugging up into a smile that caressed your face. you shook your head, pretty starlit eyes starring at atsumus.

“it’s okay, ‘tsumu. a small lunch or something would be just fine, trust me.”

this time, atsumu shakes his head, the hand on your cheek trailing down to the hand that cupped his face. he takes your hands into his and intertwines them together.

“lemme do it. i promise you won’t regret anything.” you can feel your legs turn into weak jelly as you hear his words, a goofy, lovesick smile on both your faces. just as you were going to respond to his sweet, smooth words, a voice from inside breaks the intimate moment.

“what’s going on out here ..?”

oh dear, seems like the meeting is going to have to happen sooner than expected ..!!

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu x you #atsumu x you #atsumu miya x you #atlas writes !

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onskepa · 3 months ago

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hiii!! i’m new to this whole request thingy :/ but i was wondering if you could make a fic about aonung with a runaway bride basically something about him being in love with a girl who isn’t inlove with him so she runs away to avoid being with him BUTTTT he finds her a couple years later mated to neteyam!! you don’t have to do it it was just a thought thank you!!!>.<

ooooooooooooh okie Im gonna love doing this one! Sit back and enjoy~!!

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Tilayro

It is now or never. She can't handle another day for as long as he is around. Quickly and silently tilayro packs only the basics that she needs. Making sure she doesn't alert anyone in her home. She hopes that one day, her family will forgive for what she was about to do. May Eywa forgive her.

Guilt threatens to rise up at the back of her throat, tilayro quickly shakes her head, no, now is not the time to doubt or have second thoughts. She will never have another chance like now.

Making sure she has everything, taking one last look at her home, tilayro leaves. Running down the beach to where her skimwing is, quickly connecting with her dear friend, tilayro leaves. Making the daring move to leave the borders. Leaving her home and all that she ever knew. But this had to be done. Tilayro would rather do anything else than be forced to mate with a man who will never see her as she is.

Neteyam slowly wakes up, letting his eyes adjust to the light in his home. Letting out a yawn, he gets up silently, as much as he could. His arm was tugged by his beloved mate who still sleeps soundly beside him. It truly never gets old, waking up and the first thing he sees is the love of his life. How did neteyam get so lucky? He thanks Eywa every day for having his beloved by his side.

“Mmnn…stay…” he hears her whisper, reaching out to grab his other arm.

Neteyam chuckles, how can he resist her?

He lays down once again as she gets closer to his warmth. Taking in her scent, neteyam lets himself be wrapped around with her arms. Its still early. He can attend his duties a little later.

Tonowari and his family along with a few clan members were getting ready for their long trip to the forest. Tsireya was pretty excited to meet a whole different clan and explore areas she never thought she would see. Ronal kept neutral of it, but tonowari can tell she looks forward to it. Ao’nung seems to rather stay and leave.

“Why must I go? It has nothing to do with me” ao’nung complains for the hundredth time. Tonowari sighs for the hundredth time that day.

“It has everything to do with you. You are the clan's future olo’eyktan, as well as tsireya being the future tsahik, so you have no option but to come as well” tonowari explains. Ao’nung just sighs and packs whatever he needs to pack.

“No option, it seemed she did,” he muttered.

Tonowari quickly turned to face his son again, “ao’nung, I know it still bothers you but its been 2 years now, your mother will look for a better match for you”

“Better match, there will be no other like her and she is gone, a coward she was” ao’nung said with spite and hate in his voice.

He still hasnt gotten over it. Still hurt from what the girl did. Tonowari understands his son.

His betrothed ran away before they were able to be one.

“Thats it, keep moving your legs to stay afloat. Tuk dont stop moving your arms” tilayro was swimming at a remote lake with some small na’vi children. Teaching them the basics of swimming, along with tuk who is her best student in the group.

Seeing the position of the sun, it was time to end the lessons.

“Alright everyone, lets get you all to the edge, come on come on” she tells while gently guiding them back on land. She makes sure they are all dry and drops them off to their families when they reach the village. Tilayro likes teaching the children how to swim, its part of her since birth.

“Til!” tuk jumps up and down as she holds her hand making their way to the sully home.

“Are you excited?? Aren't you arent you?” tuk asks rather excitedly.

Tilayro giggles, “yes Im excited, its not everyday we meet a whole new clan”

Weeks back Jake and mo’at announced they will be expanding their alliances to other regions of pandora. One of the first clans they managed to get in touch with is a reef clan. Its specific name has not reached tilayro’s ears yet but was given the position to assist when the clan arrives. Teach them how to adjust in the forest climate and environment.

“Maybe you will see your family again?” tuk asks, imagining seeing more of tilayro’s people.

“Who knows?” she responded, but secretly, she wishes she would never see anyone from the metkayina clan ever again.

Few days have passed and everyone in the clan prepares to welcome the coming clan that will hopefully be a new ally to the omatikaya.

Neteyam, being stressed out of his mind, is forgetting things all over their home.

“The feathers, where are they??” he mutters to himself.

“Right here my love” tilayro giggles lightly as she places the elegant feathers in his braided hair. She makes sure he looks presentable, first impressions are everything. Checking every detail is good and perfect. Her love is perfect. Truly embodied that of a warrior.

“Don't be so nervous ma’nete, everything will be alright. If eywa allows it, all will be well” she says to comfort neteyam. He sighs deeply, bringing her hands up to his face. Her teal blue skin met his dark blue. A stark contrast in shades but when together, they blend beautifully.

Neteyam stays silent, just feeling her hands bring great relief.

He moves a bit to wrap his arms around her, holding her tight. Stroking her hair, smelling more of her natural salty sea scent mixed with that of her favorite fruit, all his anxiety washes away. Only bliss and relief takes over his heart.

“Please stay beside me, I need you there” he begs.

Tilayro smiles, “of course, I will always be there for you”

Calls echoed throughout the forest, alarms and signals were being given. The reef clan has arrived and are being guided towards the omatikaya village. Jake, Neytiri and mo’at were at the border to welcome the reef clan.

Greeting each other, Tonowari smiles, feeling very privileged and honored to stand before the legend himself. His family greeting the same, all a bit nervous as they are clearly out of their comfort zone.

“Toruk makto, it is a great honor to meet you” tonowari says.

Jake pats him on the shoulder, “jake is fine, it is also an honor to meet you face to face”

Pleasantries were said, ao’nung trying his best to look like an adult to his family and the olo’eyktan.

Mo’at guided them into the village, many omatikaya were very welcoming and gave gifts to the reef na’vi. They all felt welcomed and easily enjoyed this whole new side of pandora they never seen.

Ao’nung especially.

The forest is beautiful, the village even more. Animals he has never seen or heard of were there right before his eyes. How the people behave and look, their style is so different. He was starting to enjoy it. Until he wasn't.

“Hello, my name is neteyam. This is my mate, tilayro”

She promised she would be by neteyam’s side. Always. But at this moment, she wanted to run away and hide in the darkest cave the forest has.

She has to be dreaming, this isnt real!

Ao’nung was standing before her, being shocked as much as she was.

“Your…mate…?” he asks very silently.

Tilayro can feel her heart pounding against her chest, its drumming rhythm going against her ears. Sweat started to form from her forehead. She can pass out at any moment.

“Yes, we have been together for 2 years now”

OH how tilayor wishes for neteyam to stop talking right now. He is giving more fuel to ao’nung without even knowing.

Even he seems to be confused by the sudden change of the boy in front of him.

Until suddenly, ao’nung’s teal blue eyes stared straight into tilayro’s eyes. Feeling cold chills run down her spin. He is angry, very angry. Feeling his anger rise, she needed to say something, anything!

“So this is where you have been this whole time…” was all he said before punches were being thrown.

A huge crowd was forming in the middle of the village, tonowari, ronal, mo’at, jake and neytiri had to stop what they were doing to see what was going on.

To tonowari and ronal’s horror, they see their son ao’nung fighting with the olo’eyktans son, neteyam.

“Hey hey hey!” jake called out. He and tonowari quickly get through the crowd and towards their own sons. Both of them were a bloody mess. Neytiri notices tilayro and tsireya crying in distress of what they witnessed. Kiri was there to comfort them both but neytiri still heads over to make sure they are ok.

“What happened?!” tonowari demanded to know from ao’nung.

His son had a bloody nose, scratches on his shoulders and a black eye forming already. But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as ao’nung was ready to pounce on neteyam again.

Neteyam in return looked ready for round two until tilayro got in their way.

“You!! You mated with him?!” ao’nung shouted, accusing her like she did a heinous act.

Tilayro was shaking but stood her ground, protecting neteyam.

“I did! We mated before Eywa! It is done and there is nothing you can do about it!”

Ao’nung can only stare at her, as thought she betrayed him in the worst way possible. He couldn't form any more words once she said it.

“Oh shit…” was what came out of kiri’s mouth, quickly piecing together what is happening.

Jake, while still holding neteyam back, stared at neytiri who understood what he was feeling.

[I'm getting a sense of major deja vu right now] he thought.

Within the massive tent that had the leaders inside including neteyam, ao’nung and tilayro inside, no one was happy with what occurred. It was a serious situation that could tear what little could be salvaged between the omatikaya and the metkayina.

While tonowari is furious with his son, same with ronal, both were beyond shocked to see tilayro living among the forest na’vi. And mated no less. That in itself brought more confusion.

“Start talking boy, I want a clear honest answer” jake demanded. He was in no mood for humor or light hearted jabs. Kid or not, someone threatened his son, and to an extension, his daughter in law.

Ao’nung looked down at his hands, feeling shamed for what he did. Letting his emotions get to him, but just seeing tilayro brought a wave of new found anger he thought he could never with hold.

“Forgive me sir, I let my mind be shrouded in emotions. I should have never beatin your son and cause a gap between our clans” ao’nung says.

Jake was not satisfied.

“Let me be more clear, I want an explanation, not an apology. Why did you attack me son?”

Tonowari and ronal shared a look of concern, yes what their son did was horrible but they fear what punishment the olo’eyktan would do once ao’nung confesses.

“Tilayro…” ao’nung begins to say. Remembering his short time with her back at his home.

“When your son said tilayro is his mate, I lost all control. I grew mad, angry and jealous. I shouldn't, but I did. Not liking it, I punched your son out of my own selfishness. I am sorry. I will accept any punishment you will give me”

Neytiri leaned forward a bit, “what is tilayro to you?” she asks.

“We were arranged to mate,” tilayro starts to say.

She and neteyam were back at the comfort and safety of their home. She does her best to heal his wounds while making sure to not inflict anymore pain.

“My family and his believed it would be good if I and ao’nung were to be together. He was already chosen to be the metkayina’s next olo’eyktan. He just needed a tsahik. I was unfortunately the one”

Neteyam didn't speak, letting her say what happened 2 years ago.

He remembers exactly the day he met her. She was lost, had no knowledge of the forest and was scared of everything. Tilayro clearly stood out for how her body was different from the forest na’vi. Wider arms and lets, a thicker tail.

He remembers helping her adjust, remembers being close to her, remembers how he fell in love with the mysterious aquatic na’vi.

“For how long were you arranged…” he asks softly.

“Hmm…for a long while. I thought it would work. That I could be a good wife and a good tsahik to our clan. I was foolish. They had us spend more time together. In a way I was glad, because I was able to ao’nung’s true side”

Neteyam observes his mate’s expressions closely, her eyes filled with sadness and her body movement slow and not really concentrated.

“What was he like?”

Just from beating the shit out of that fish boy, neteyam concluded that ao’nung currently is still a child who has no control of his emotions. Still holding some grudge and won't let go of things no matter how long ago it was.

“Selfish. A brute, always wanting to be praised and having his ego stroked” tilayro lists as she rolls her eyes.

Neteyam slightly smirked, “isn't that what you do with-”

“I'm still talking”

“Yes ma’am”

“He always took me somewhere that mostly had his bunch of friends. Really I think those friends only hung around with ao’nung simply because he is tonowari’s son. He always showed off to me, to an extent its fine. But he did it way too much. And it was all about him, for him, to him. He never had a moment to spare for me. Never properly courted me. So I came to the conclusion that we aren't fit. I could not for the life of me spend my life with someone like him…so I….left”

A tear fell from her face, “I left one night and never looked back. But I don't regret it. If I hadnlt left…I wouldn't have met you”

Neteyam brought tilayro closer and gave her a loving kiss on her sweet lips.

“Im glad you did. You are the best thing to ever happen to me and I think Eywa every day for that” he says.

They shared a few more kisses before he picked her up and spun her around. Laughter filled the air once more.

A few days later the metkyaina packed their stuff to head back to their home. What happened tarnished what was supposed to changed their lives for the better. Ao’nung felt ashamed. He did throw the first punch. Now he must deal with the consequences.

But seeing tilayro, even from a distance, is panged his heart.

He wasnt good to her, he knows that now. But ao’nung secretly did care for tilayro. How he showed it wasnt the best. Look where it lead to now. But he couldnt leave without saying anything to her. It was no or never.

“Where are you going?” ronal asks her son, seeing him make his way to neteyam and tilayro. She panics, thinking what worse can her son do.

That omatikaya warriors were quick to stand in front of the couple, not letting aonung get close.

“Please, I wish to say something. I promise to not cause anymore harm” he pleads.

IT was a long minute before neteyam hesitantly agreed.

Ao’nung slowly gets closer to the couple, he bows his head.

“Im sorry for punching you. It was not my place to say terrible things and much less hurting you. I know I ruined everything and I will work on improving myself” he says.

Neteyam didnt say anything, only a mere hum.

Then ao’nung turned to tilayro who was showing fear in her eyes.

“Im sorry…for everything. I know I didn't do a lot to show I was good for you. That I hardly put any attention on you like you deserve…I did and still do care for you tilayro. Im sorry I never showed it until it was too late”

Tilayro can feel the genuine honesty coming from him, he was messing with her. He was being truthful, which is something she thought she would never see from ao’nung.

“Please, treat her well. Tilayro is a good person, too good even for me”

Ao’nung and neteyam shake hands, “thank you” he spoke.

One last looked was shared before ao’nung left to join his clan. Not looking back, ao’nung and the metkayina begin their journey back home. The omatikaya looked after them.

Neteyam wraps his arm around tilayro, wanting to feel her skin touching his.

“He is right, you are a good person my love. A good woman, a good mate. Even I must confess, I am glad he wasn't the one for you”

Tilayro releases a light giggle, placing her head on his chest.

“You will always be the one for me neteyam”

Choosing what she wants and how she wants, tilayro knows that is the best feeling. Having the freedom to whom to love and be genuin.

Aaaaaaand that was it for this one! I hope you all liked it! Until next time! See ya!

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Tilayro = freedom

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teratosfavouritesnack · 5 months ago

Text

centaur x human - mildly dubcon, hand job (monster receiving)

He does not like you. That's the only plausible explanation you can come up with after weeks of unsuccessful attempts to befriend him.

The newest addition to the farmhouse, a huge, majestic centaur with long dark hair and a glossy tawny coat black as pitch, whom you've been assigned to personally care for, seems to… loathe you.

Without any reason, you may add.

What reason could he possibly have when you’ve barely managed to make him look at you when you first introduced yourself? On that occasion, he quite literally threw you a brief glance and then turned around, almost hitting you with his rear. Despite your initial shock, you tried to not give too much thought to his rude manners. You tried to not be too quick to judge. Perhaps he needed time to get accustomed to his new home, perhaps you needed to earn his trust just like with the wild horses you’ve been working with. And so you tried to give him time and space, to treat him with all the respect and kindness and consideration that a creature like him deserves.

But the result has always been the same: his rear being shoved in your face.

You've tried everything you can to get his attention, to earn his attention, but perhaps you've been too nice thus far. Perhaps he needs a firmer hand. You’re quite tired of being ignored, avoided, disrespected. Why does he feel the need to ostracize you when you’re there to take care of his needs? To help him? Does he not understand that?

It’s early morning when you find him in his stall, carving wood - something you've seen him do frequently since he arrived at the farm, although you’ve never been able to see up close what he’s been working on. When he spots you approaching, he turns around and gives you his back - as usual. That doesn’t surprise you any longer. The hundredth rejection does however cause your blood to boil in your veins, and make you more determined than ever to make him respect you, as you deserve.

You take the horse brush from your work coat and march into his enclosure. He instantly huffs and shifts nervously in protest but there isn't much space for him to move and by blocking the gate you don't give him a chance to escape. He can't ignore you forever.

You are however painfully aware of how easily he could smash you against the wooden fence with his enormous and muscular body, or strike you with his hooves and seriously injure you... Though, you're hoping that his hatred for you doesn’t run as deep as to risk killing you.

You approach his side and begin brushing his mantle without saying anything, for words have so far proved to be futile with him. You are expected to tend to him, so that's what you're going to do from now on, whether he likes it or not. This is your job. This is what you're paid for. You will not let a spoiled snob of a centaur get you fired just because he refuses to let you perform your duties over who knows what stupid whim.

The centaur instantly grumbles in displeasure and tries to evade your touch but with little success. Your back hits the fence with a thud yet not hard enough to hurt you or make you stop.

"I'm going to take care of you, even though you do not deserve it." you state solemnly as you struggle to keep your brush on his coat with how much he squirms against your touch. "Now stop moving!"

"Go away! I don't need you!"

You're too annoyed with his actions to be startled by his response. It's the first time you've actually heard him speak, and his voice is so grave and rough, exactly as you'd expected, that you barely notice it.

"You do need me! Can you brush yourself? Can you? You can't even reach your back with your fingers!"

He huffs again and writhes sharply when you press the brush with more force against his side. He trashes around so much that he hits you again, but this time hard enough to make you stumble and fall, ass down on the ground. You let out an exaggerated sigh and squeeze your eyes closed for a moment as you try to calm your mounting frustration. Patting your clothes to clean them from the hay, you shake your head in disbelief and curse him under your breath.

You push your palms on the ground, ready to prop yourself back on your feet but the moment you raise your gaze, you see it; the enormous shape of his horse cock, long and erect, throbbing so hard its veins look like they're about to explode. You blink in shock at the sight, your mind going blank and your body instantly warming up.

Maybe, just maybe, this is why he has been avoiding you all along. Maybe, just maybe, he's been in pain all this time... and with no way to relieve himself of this ache. Maybe, just maybe, he was too embarrassed to let you any way near him.

Despite everything, it doesn't take long for you to come to a decision. Crawling underneath his belly, you reach out for his length and touch it ever gently with your fingertips. But even that light touch is enough to make him groan and recoil.

You grab onto his sides to avoid being stumped, holding tight until he stops writhing. One hand then reaches up for his cock again, palm closing around its girth.

"Don't… touch… it!" he groans through clenched teeth. You can hear the strain in his voice. He is indeed in pain.

"I'm here to take care of you, aren't I? So I will take care of you." you remind him firmly, a hint of sympathy edging your tone. Your palm starts to stroke back and forth, slowly, gently. Your first isn't enough to close around his whole girth so you soon add your other hand.

The huffs and groans and poorly restrained whimpers that leave his lips fill the empty stall.

His wriggling body soon starts to match the pace of your strokes, bucking against your hands. You gasp as he shifts abruptly, lifting his torso and resting his front legs against the wall, putting his weight on his hind legs which shake and shift a little behind you as he tries to find his balance. In this position he can better piston his cock in your palms, urgently, desperately. His full big balls smack against your arm at each thrust. It's scary to be under him like this, one wrong move and he could badly hurt you, yet at the same time, you feel in power. He searches your touch, he ruts into your fists, desperate for more friction, desperate for a release he's been craving for who knows how long.

"This is why you've been avoiding me, isn't it?" you say softly, the frustration of before gone entirely from your tone. You almost feel... pity for him. Such a majestic creature forced to depend on others to relieve himself.

He doesn't answer. But he doesn't need to. You know it's true.

It only takes a couple of minutes for him to grow tense and then jerk violently as he spills gallons of cum in the hay; white stripes even splatter over your work coat. You ease down on the ground, sitting on your heels, panting from the exertion, eyes darting from his spent cock to his trembling body. Your hand reaches up for his belly, gently caressing his soft coat to ease his tremors.

"I'm sorry..." you hear him utter, breathlessly, as he slowly eases down from the wall, careful not to knock you over.

You're not sure what he's apologizing for, if it's for the poor way he's been treating you from day one or for what has just happened. Either way, you accept it. Perhaps this is how you ‘turn over a new leaf’ and start anew.

"It's okay... It's okay." you coo softly, keeping on rubbing his belly. "I'm here for you… I hope you understand that now…"

The centaur seems to appreciate your words because he nudges your body with his side, not like before when he was trying with all his might to push you away. No. This time it feels more... affectionate. You pat his side with a soft chuckle and he huffs softly in response.

With a gracious movement, he bends down and retrieves something from the ground and extends it to you. Crawling away from under him, you take the brush from his hands and finally meet his dark but beamy eyes. There's a gentle expression on his face, one you've never seen graze his features before. You return his smile and gratefully take his stretched hand to prop yourself up. As you do, however, something sitting in the hay catches your attention and you reach for it. It's a half carved piece of wood, possibly the one he was working on when you came in.

"Oh, that's… uhm-"

You gaze up at him again, watching curiously as his cheeks flush and his look grow shy.

Your eyes return to the object, inspecting it with interest. The figure is still roughly shaped, but as you turn it in your hands you seem to recognize its features. Realization dawns on you when you notice it resembles... you.

Maybe you were entirely wrong. Maybe the explanation for his behavior towards you is that he likes you, though a bit too much.

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me <3

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lee-laurent · 6 months ago

Text

Replacing Me - Luke Hughes

Summary: Luke and Tori's relationship becomes more serious, but maybe John isn't as okay with it as he thought

content: fluff, angst, past relationships, oc x ex!john marino, money issues, mentions of sex but no actual smut, arguing, physical fighting (not between any couples)

wc: 2.9k

notes: PART 3 of 'Done Trying'!! So go ahead and read the first two parts if you haven't! 'Done Trying' and 'Past Relationships' !! I'm loving writing this series!! Super excited to write this one!! I love writing Tori and Luke's relationship. But get ready for some angst between John and Luke in this one!! Enjoy!!!

Tori tossed and turned, making the boy next to her grumble. He furrowed his brow, rolling over to face her.

"Go to sleep," he slurred with his eyes closed.

"I can't."

"Mm," he moaned, his snores filling the air once more. Tori rolled her eyes, flipping onto her side for the hundredth time. John let out a deep sigh, throwing an arm over her waist, pulling her into his chest. She gasped, but made no attempt to escape him. He slow rise and fall of his chest, lulled her into a sense of security and finally she was able to sleep.

Well... for a bit at least.

"MAMA!" wails filled the apartment, seeming even louder through the baby monitor on the bedside table. "MAMAAAA!"

"I've got him," John stretched, presssing a kiss to Tori's cheek. He pulled himself out of the bed, padding down the hall to Riley's room.

"Shhh. It's okay, Ri-Ri. Daddy's here."

Tori would never admit it, but hearing John speak to Riley made her heart swell. He was so sweet with their son, never raising his voice, never getting cross. He was the best dad that she could ask for. And it made her want to jump his bones. She shook her head, she shouldn't think of John like that. She's seeing Luke now.

But John's sleepy voice sounded so hot coming through the baby monitor. She groaned, shoving her head in her pillow. Maybe she was just horny.

"Shhh. Everything's okay. Mama and Dada are here," John rocked the toddler back and forth, patting his back soothingly. "Dada's here. I'm not going anywhere."

Five minutes later, John was back in the bed, spooning his ex-girlfriend. Riley had settled pretty quickly compared to most nights and the couple couldn't have been happier to get their rest.

"Thanks, babe," Tori mumbled sleepily.

"No worries. That's what I'm here for," John yawned, tucking his head in the crook of Tori's neck.

And for the first time in weeks, Riley slept until 7 in the morning.

"MAMA!"

"Coming baby!" Tori exclaimed, pulling Riley out of his crib. "How'd you sleep? Did Winnie the Pooh give you good dreams?"

Riley nodded, hugging his stuffed animal to his chest.

"Dada!"

"Hi, baby!"

Tori turned, blushing slightly at the shirtless John standing in the doorway. He smirked, noticing the redness on her cheeks.

"Dada! Home!"

"Yeah, Dada's at our house! Isn't that crazy?"

"Cwazy!"

"Let's get you into some clean clothes! You okay to make breakast, John?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "We have an afternoon practice. But I'll be home for dinner."

"Sounds good!"

"Hey, Johnny! Running a little late today?" Nico laughed. Most of the boys were already dressed in their gear when John entered the Devils locker-room.

"Yeah, sorry. Riley was upset I was going."

"Riley?"

"Hm? Yeah, staying at Tori's for a bit. Working on getting Riley on a set bedtime routine."

"Oh. How'd you sleep?"

"Actually pretty well, considering we have a two-year-old in the house," he chuckled, throwing on his pads.

"You're staying at Tori's?" Luke asked, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah. Ri's been having some trouble sleeping."

"How long you staying?" Nico asked, not sensing the tension obviously coming from Luke.

"Two weeks... ish. Until we can get him down for a full night and keep it that way."

"Might be able to rekindle the relationship, eh, Johnny," Dawson laughed, clapping his teammate on the back. Luke frowned, the laces of his skates suddenly becoming much more interesting than the conversation at hand.

"Who knows," John laughed awkwardly, taping his socks.

"Let's go boys!" Lindy's voice echoed through the room, calling the boys onto the ice.

Luke was off all practice. His passes were shit and every shot he attempted on net missed. He noticed the worried looks from his brother and captain, but shrugged them off not wanting any attention on him. Did everyone want John and Tori to get back together? He didn't know much about their relationship before he joined the team. Maybe they were a power couple and that's why everyone wanted them together. Maybe everyone thought that he and Tori would be a bad match. Maybe they thought Luke was trying to replace John in Riley's life. Maybe...

"Luke! You good? I've called your name like four times," Jack waved his hand in front of his brother's face, driving down the street to their apartment.

"Huh? I'm fine."

"You sure? You didn't seem like your head was in it at practice."

"No, I'm fine. Just an off day, ya know?"

"Sure do. But, I'm here if you ever wanna talk about anything."

"I know, Jack," Luke forced a smile, checking his phone to see if Tori had responded to the text he'd sent two days before. But still there was nothing. Not even a thumb up. Just radio silence.

"'ockey!" Riley cheered, running in circles around the carpet in the living room. Tori was hoping he'd wear himself down enough to sleep all night. She'd put on a random highlight video of Sidney Crosby she'd found on YouTube and Riley was eating it up. "'ockey!"

John was standing in the kitchen, watching the scene unfold while we ate some leftover chicken parm. He'd done an extra training session with Holtzy that day and had missed dinner, much to his dismay because Tori had made his favourite.

"Let's use our inside voice, Riley. What if Ms. Nelson is trying to sleep?" Tori warned. Ms. Nelson was the elderly woman that lived across the hall. She'd been the biggest help over the last two years, especially in navigating motherhood. Tori wasn't sure she'd have been able to do it without her neighbour. She was like a third grandma to Riley.

Riley raised a finger to his mouth, "Shhh."

"That's right. We're quiet when people are sleeping. Let's use our quiet voice while we play. Okay?"

"O-tay, Mama."

"Good boy," she grinned, ruffling his dark curls. She quickly flipped over her phone that buzzed, skimming over the text from Luke, before placing it down on the table. She wasn't trying to ignore Luke. She just wasn't sure he'd understand the current situation, seeing as he wasn't a parent himself. Maybe she'd made a mistake by starting something with a 20-year-old. She was also trying not to use her phone as much in front of Riley. She and John didn't want him growing up depending on a screen for entertainment. He got a bit of TV time in the morning and a bit in the evening before bed but that was it. He didn't have a tablet, like many of the kids that Tori had seen at her parenting classes.

"Dada! Play!"

"I'm coming," John smiled, putting his empty plate in the sink. This was the first time he'd noticed that Tori's apartment didn't have a dishwasher. Did she do all the dishes by hand? She must have.

Tori clicked off the TV, watching her son sit criss-cross across from his dad. She placed the little bin of farm toys between the two, pressing a kiss to Riley's head, brushing some curls from his eyes.

"I'm going to take a bath. You alright with him for half an hour?"

"Of course. Enjoy your bath, Vic."

Vic. That wasn't a name that left John's mouth often. It was always "Tori" or "Victoria." Vic had been a name he used when they were dating. And the sound of it made her heart break a bit.

She had just settled into her steaming hot bath when her phone started ringing, ruining her peace. She sighed, flipping it over to see Luke's name flashing across the screen. She let it ring through, placing it back down on the counter. With her book and a glass of wine, she finally got a moment to relax. Maybe life with John was better than she remembered.

"Luke. I know you're not alright. What's going on?" Jack nagged, knocking his shoulder with Luke's.

"I... Tori hasn't been answering me."

"She's got a kid, Rusty. She never answers her phone."

"She was before John moved back in with her."

"Family bonding time?" Jack shrugged, "Don't let it get to you this much. You guys aren't even officially dating."

"So? I thought we were getting somewhere."

"Tori's hard to read. If I've learned anything from John, it's that. And Riley is her main focus in life. Nothing comes before Riley, including answering her texts."

"But she doesn't even answer at night when Riley's probably in bed."

"Dude, that's her time to relax. John told me that Riley has been a nightmare child recently. Give her some time. I'm sure she'll come around."

Luke just sighed, checking his phone again to see if she'd answered. Nothing.

John had taken Riley for walk, giving Tori some very much needed alone time. She was going through some emails when her phone rang again.

Luke Hughes

Accept. Decline.

"Hello?"

"H-hey, Tori. How've you been?" Luke sounded nervous.

"I'm alright. Yourself?"

"Okay. I, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to hangout again sometime."

"Oh, um, yeah. I just... I'm kinda busy with Riley right now. He's been a bit of a handful."

"I, uh, I could come help out.... if you want."

"That's really nice of you to offer, Luke. But John's here helping out."

"Oh. Are you... are you guys getting back together?"

Tori pinched the bridge of her nose, "No, Luke. You know what, let's go out tonight."

"Really?"

"Really," she smiled.

"You- you can come here! Jack's going out with some friends."

"Wow. Bold, Hughes. You trying to sleep with me?" she giggled.

"What?! No! No! That's not- that's not what I meant!"

"I know. I'm just teasing. I'll be over around 7. I just need to make sure that John has everything to put Ri to bed. Sound good?"

"Perfect. I'll see you then."

"We're home!"

"We 'ome!"

"My boys are home!" Tori grinned, spinning Riley around in her arms. "How was the park?"

"We 'ide!"

"You went on the slide?"

"Yeah," Riley clapped, running off to play with his Duplo.

"How was he?"

"So good. A few tears when I told him he couldn't have two snacks before dinner. But besides that, all was well."

"He use the bathroom?"

"Yep!"

"Riley! Good job, baby! Such a big boy!"

"Tank 'oo, Mama!"

"I, uh, I'm going to Luke's for a bit tonight."

"Hughes?"

"Yeah."

"That's still going on?"

"Why... why wouldn't it be?"

"I thought... never mind."

"No. You thought what?"

"You were focusing on our family right now."

"Am I not allowed to take some time for myself?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Victoria. Don't twist my words."

"Then what are you saying, John?"

"You just... I gave you the whole day to have time for yourself."

"And I appreciate that. But I spent it working to make money to support me and our child."

"How many times do I have to tell you that I can give you more money if you need it?" he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I don't want your pity money, John."

"It's not pity money! I'm giving it so you and our son can have a good life."

"Are you saying that I'm not giving our son a good life?" her eyes started to water.

"No! God! Why do you always twist my fucking words?!"

"Don't swear in front of Riley!"

"Go to Luke's."

"What?"

"GO!"

Tori was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand when Luke opened the door. His eyes widening when he saw the state she was in.

"Tori? I, uh, I wasn't expecting you for another two hours."

"I'm sorry. I just, uh, I had an argument with John. Can I come in?" she sniffled.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry. Come in, come in."

The two of them got comfortable on the couch, Luke wrapping his arm around her smaller frame.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"If you don't mind," she wiped her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie.

"Of course I don't."

"He, uh, he accused me of not taking time for our family. That I'm taking too much time for myself."

"That's not true. You spend so much time worrying about Riley. God, I didn't hear from your for a week! Riley's your number one priority."

"John can't see that," the tears started back up. "Then he offered me money. But, I felt like he was accusing me of not providing enough for Riley. I just... does he think I'm a bad mom?"

"Shh, Tori. You're not a bad mom. You- you're an amazing mom! Riley always looks so happy when I see him! You're like the best mom ever... well maybe after my mom, but... you get the point."

She giggled through her tears, listening to Luke's heartbeat for comfort.

"Thanks, Luke. I'm sorry. This probably wasn't what you were expecting."

"It's fine, Tori. Any time spent with you is good enough for me."

"You're too sweet," she sighed, meeting his eyes. He brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

"Do you want to spend the night here?" he offered.

"I-"

"Don't worry. John's got Riley. He'll be fine."

"I don't want to be a bother."

"You'll never be a bother to me, Victoria."

Was it too soon to be in love with this man? Because Victoria could feel herself falling already.

"I'll stay then," she smiled sadly, pressing another kiss to his lips. He hummed, kissing her back.

"Should we watch a movie?" he asked, not wanting it to seem like he was taking advantage of her when she was down.

"Sure," she smiled. What a gentleman.

Tori woke up to fifty texts and ten missed calls from John.

Are you coming home?

Hello?

Victoria

Victoria?

Are you okay?

I shouldn't have yelled. Please come back.

I got Riley to sleep, I think.

Hey?

Vic?

Please come home.

Vic?

Please.

I'm sorry

Vic?

Text me when you see these please

Riley slept through the night

I need you here from I leave for practice. For Riley. Not for me.

Victoria, don't be like this. Riley needs his mom

She attempted to pull away from Luke, but he was quick to pull her back into his chest.

"Don't go," he mumbled sleepily.

"I've gotta go, babe. You've got practice. And I have a toddler that needs his mom."

"Five more minutes."

"Luke," she giggled, flipping in his arms. She ran a hand through his curls, her fingers catching on a couple knots. "God, your hair is almost as bad as Riley's."

"Mmm."

"Come on, sleepyhead. Rise and shine."

He slowly opened his eyes, smiling cheekily at the girl in his arms. He leaned to give her a kiss, but was quickly rejected.

"I have morning breath."

"I don't care."

"Luke!" she squealed as he pressed kisses all over her face. "Luke!"

"I'll see you later?" he asked, finally getting a peck on the lips.

"Of course. I'll text you."

"Will you? Last time you said that you ignored me for a week."

"It was a long week, Lukey. I'll text you. I promise," she intertwined her pinky with this, finally pulling herself out of bed.

"Victoria! You're home! Thank God! I was getting worried," John rambled, running a hand through his hair. Tori could tell from how dishevelled it was, that he'd been doing that for a while.

"Of course, I am. I live here in case you forgot," she sassed, throwing her keys in the little bowl on the counter.

"Ri's been worried about you. He said I don't his 'babas' right."

"You probably don't," she shrugged, cooing at her son in his booster seat. "Hi, baba! Mama's home. She just had to go see a friend for a bit."

"You stay at Ally's?" John asked, picking up a piece of egg that Riley had chucked on the floor.

"No."

"Then who- you stayed at Luke's?"

"It's frankly none of your business, John."

He sighed, "You know what, I'm going to practice. I might be home after. If I feel like it. Since that's what we're doing now."

Riley cried as the door slammed shut, just making Tori angrier. God, now she remembered why shit with John didn't work out.

John stormed into the locker room, his target locked in on. Luke Warren Hughes. Number 43. Who was sat innocently in his stall, laughing at something his brother had said.

"You think it's okay to sleep with Tori?" John fumed, pushing the boy's shoulder. Luke was taken by surprise, falling backwards into the wall.

"What?"

"You think it's okay to take my child's mother away for night?! Leave me having NO idea where she is?! Huh?!"

"John-"

"Stay out of it!" he seethed. Luke stood up, puffing his chest out. If John wanted a fight, then a fight he'd get. "You think it's fine to whore around with Tori?"

"She needed me. You made her cry, if I'm remembering correctly," Luke shot back.

"She isn't supposed to need you! She's supposed to need me!" John pushed him again, earning a shove in return. Everyone was gathered around, silently watching.

"Well, you're doing a shit job at supporting her!"

That was it, John lurched forward, tackling Luke to the ground. His fist connected with the rookie's jaw. Another punch, this time from Luke. Another. Another.

"ENOUGH!" Nico pulled John off, holding him back. Jack grabbed Luke with the help of Dawson. Luke spat some blood on the floor, breathing heavily. He wanted nothing more than to make John feel the pain that he had made Tori feel emotionally the night before.

The locker room fell into silence, suddenly the door swung open.

"What is going on here?!"

#nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #luke hughes #john marino #njd imagine

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kurokens · 8 months ago

Text

In The Middle | Satosugu

anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru & geto suguru

words: 798

pronouns: they/them

request: none

notes: probably an overused prompt but idc sue me, i needed to write one of my own. im a sucker for misunderstanding. i haven't written anything in such a long time, it's been a while im sorry, satosugu have been on my mind for a while, and i needed to write something with them because i love them so fucking much. it's gonna be a series, so hopefully i dont disappear after one part lol... later on it might be specific on some insecurities bc i need it and i thought well let's just share it with the world and other who might need it. sorry for any mistakes T-T

not proof read

song rec: SHE'S - In The Middle

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?

warnings: bad english not my first language, satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious (is that the right one?), insecure and self conscious reader

You've always told yourself you weren't the type to live with anyone, you liked your quiet and your peace. Alone in your little bubble, without a soul to disturb it. And yet, here you were awoken by your roomates lover quarrel in the room next door, for the hundredth time this week.

"Don't you love me anymore? Am I not enough for you?" a whiny voice whisper-screamed "Satoru, my love, it was a dream, it was all in your head." an exhausted voice replied

"So what?? It doesn't mean anything? Are my feelings not valid?" Gojo huffed.

"How are you so dramatic so early in the morning? Let's go back to sleep come here.", Geto carefully lifted the blanket so his boyfriend could go back exactly where he belonged, asleep and quiet in his arms.

Such occurences weren't new to you, you could even say there were your daily life, that's why you laughed hearing the bickering couple, and turned around in your bed to try and fall back asleep while their muffled voices could still be heard in the background. This was without counting on what part of their conversation your brain decided to pick up on next. "I dont know for how much longer I can do this Sugu.." Satoru sighed. "Me neither love, but there is nothing much we can do about it.They live with us." His black haired lover replied. "I know, ugh I know, but it's getting so much harder everyday. Seeing them is becoming unbearable. I can't stand it anymore, we need to do something." He went on. "Shh, I know, I feel the same. But we can't just drop this on them all of the sudden and expect it to go well." The oldest reasoned.

Your heart shattered on the other side of the wall, now sitting against the headboard, an unstoppable flow of tears falling down your face. You were a bother? You thought the three of you were friends, shit, scratch that, best friends. And yet, yet, this was how they felt about you. Fuck fuck FUCK You needed to calm down, it's okay, you're okay. It must have been a nightmare, yeah that's right, a nightmare. Your brain loved playing tricks on you, waking you up in the middle of the night with the most vivid and realistic nightmares ever, enough to send you into full blown meltdown. Nothing to worry about, it was just a nightmare, nothing else. That's what you told yourself and yet when you woke up you couldnt shake this weird feeling in your stomach. You contemplated staying in your bed all day and avoid your roomates but that would be silly to ignore them for something that was potentially just a dream. So you shook the silly feelings away and got out of your bed, made your way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. Your two roommates were already there, being lovey dovey in each others lap and the weird feeling made its way back into your stomach. "Hi there." You greeted tiredly, only to be met with an echo of short hms, and not even a nod to accompany the cold greeting. The lack of acknowledgment not helping with your already overthinking mind, you decided to take a quick breakfast and just leave them be. It could just be a coincidence, nothing to worry about haha, right? Or so you thought, because you were back in your room mindlessly scrolling through tik tok when you once again hear the muffled voices of your roommates. Your brain screamed at you to put your headphones on and drown out their conversation, but you couldn't get yourself to do it, and you decided to listen to them, to at least finally be able to know whether or not you dreamed what happened last night. And maybe you shouldn't have, but what else could you do now but listen to the cruel words of the ones you once considered your best friends. "Suguru, we need to do it soon. I can't even handle looking at them in the eyes anymore, let alone utter a word to them. We can't keep going like this." Satoru complained. "I know 'Toru, I know, but you need to understand it's not as easy as you think it is." You heard the black haired man answer. And it was enough for you, you needed to get out of there. You obviously were no longer welcomed here, and the sooner you left, the better it would be, for both parties. So inbetween tears you picked up a bag and threw some spare clothes and anything that you could think of in your frenzy state before you ran out of there, determined to never come back, at least not for a while.

here u gooo!! sorry i've been away for a while, i've been finding it hard to write and staying focused, but i missed it so much, especially for these two. i'll try not to take too long to write AT LEAST a second part, but would love to do more than this bc i want it to be extremely slown burn and a little bit angsty krkrkr

part 2 is here!!

#saturn's writing #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu poly #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x gojo satoru x reader

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archermind · 1 year ago

Text

sickness and soup

Spencer Reid x f!Reader

Description: You have called Hotch and told him you are unwell, making you unable to come into work today. Soon after you ended the call, there was a knock at your front door… to your surprise it was Spencer. Spencer was tasked by Hotch with the role of making sure you get better.

Content: fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

Author Note: this is my first time having a go at doing this. If anyone has any suggestions or feedback, feel free to offer it to me. (pls i beg lol) i hope you enjoy <3

Working in the BAU can be pretty intense. Some of the main things I find difficult about my job are cases involving children, when the unsub is a sick and twisted psychopath and the worst of them all… calling my boss when I feel sick. I will be honest there is no easy way to call Aaron Hotchner and tell him you can’t make it to work. I would drag myself limbless and bloody into Quantico just to avoid having to tell Hotch “I can't make it in today, sorry!”

After the long awkward phone call of having to explain to Hotch why I will be missing the day off work, I sat pondering if I was just a hypochondriac or better yet a baby to the familiar enemy of every woman, my period. I had been up through the night, hurling acidic bile up into the toilet bowl from the pain of womanhood tearing up my insides. Periods are a bitch.

My phone pinged from the living room as I was brushing my teeth for what felt like the hundredth time. My feet plodded from the bathroom through to the living room. I smiled as I saw the notification on my phone. ‘Garcia<3’. I opened the message to be met by a photo of her eating soup. ‘Missing you girl!’. I smiled as I responded with my own photo of me sad pouting and sent her a message of ‘i wish i was there :(‘.

I threw my phone onto the couch making my way to my room. I sighed as I approached the huge pile of recently washed laundry which was dumped on my designated, ‘I'm too lazy to put these away so I will just dump them here’ chair. I rummaged through the pile pulling out any oversized shirt and shorts I could find. Today has not gone how i anticipated, all i wanted was to miraculously be rid of pain and be sat at the round table hearing of the next kidnap, dismembering and murder. I groaned as I attempted to atleast make my bed but was met with a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I gave up, throwing myself onto the bed like a child throwing a tantrum.

Light knocks woke me from a deep sleep that I had no recollection of falling into. I quickly jumped up and made my way to my front door. I looked like a mess so when I opened my door to see Spencer Reid… if I didn't already feel like curling up in a ball and dying, I do now. Ever since joining the BAU i couldn’t help not develop a minor school girl like crush on him that only Penelope knows about.

“Uh… Spencer.. Why are you here?” I questioned him, trying to hide my shameful appearance behind the door. I attempted a smile despite the shock I was in.

“Hotch told me i had to come check up on you but before i left Garcia told me to trust her and that this would make you feel… in her words ‘a hundred times better’” Spencer gave a warm smile as he forced a tub of soup towards me.

“Well it looks like there is enough for two. Would you like to maybe come and have some?” I asked him nervously as I shifted on my feet.

He nodded as I opened the door wider to allow him to enter. I trailed behind him as he made his way to my living room sofa. I anxiously waited for him to say something to break the silence. It was unusual for Spencer to stay silent for this long. For as long as I have known Reid, it seemed he always had something on his mind that he was ready to ramble on about.

“Erm.. you will have to mind the state of my apartment” I coughed as my mouth went dry from nerves, “i never really have guests and i haven't had a great morni-” i suddenly was cut off by Spencer as he started to ramble like i expected.

“Did you know that it only takes one droplet of contaminated air to catch an illness?” Reid cleared his throat before carrying on, “and i will be honest with you Y/N… i am not entirely sure why Hotch sent me because he knows i don't like germs”, i watched as he fidgeted with the buckles on his satchel bag.

My mouth formed an ‘o’ as I realized Hotch didn’t tell him why I was actually not at work today. I started laughing, causing Spencer to avert his eyes to stare at me. Internally I felt bad but I couldn't help but find the poor boy sitting worried on my sofa humorous for his own unknowing.

“Y/N, i’m being serious. It is not funny. Did you know most serious diseases are caused by airborne illnesses!” Spencer blurted out upset and confused.

“Spence… I'm not contagious." I started, as he gave me a confused look “i am ill from having really bad period pains” I announced as I hung my head in shame having to tell Spencer of all people that currently I am menstruating. Even though it is a natural human thing and I can't control it.

To my surprise, Spencer stood up and walked towards me engulfing me in a hug. I found it weirdly unexpected. I half anticipated Spencer to run out the door and for the hills at the thought of me… bleeding. However, I found myself comforted by the warm hug. I was still so confused.

“I apologize Y/N if i made you feel horrible by technically categorizing you as contagious and disease-ridden” Spencer started chuckling as his chin rested atop of my head. I smiled at his apology. Although he never made me feel insulted, it was sweet to know he cared about my feelings enough to apologize if there was a misunderstanding.

I walked into my bathroom, the room was dark but drowned in ambient orange candle lighting. The bath was full of bubbles and the steam from the hot water engulfed the room, inviting me in. Spencer had done all of this while I was finishing my leek and mushroom soup. Although it sounded disgusting, I found myself texting Penelope begging her for the recipe. The response was almost better than the soup ‘a chef never spills her secrets but for you my lovely… ofcourse’ i hummed gleefully as I placed the phone on the counter of my bathroom sink. I tore every item of clothing off and made my way to the calming bath. I settled myself within the bubbles as i leant back to rest my head and close my eyes. It was relaxing and just what I had needed.

Time passed delicately, but soon enough the water lost its comforting warmth and my fingers' skin was being over-dramatic, wrinkling like I had been within the water for eighty years. As I stepped out of the bathtub, a faint knock was sounded from the door.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Spencer shouted from behind the locked door sounding worried.

“Yeah, I'm fine Spence.” i responded smiling at his caring nature

“Just checking because on average about 10 people die each day from unintentional drowning in swimming pools and bathtubs” Spencer rambled and I smiled in adoration, while I got dressed, that it always goes back to statistics with him.

I opened the door and smiled at him. “Don’t worry, I'm not about to become a statistic today”.

Spencer returned the warm smile before guiding me back to my living room. I gasped at the sight. Spencer had set up a blanket and some pillows on the sofa. While also supplying me a heating pad, chips and chocolate. I turned to him and placed a hand over my open mouth.

“Thank you spence!” I wrapped my arms around him tight and placed my head on his chest. I couldn't believe how thoughtful and understanding he had been. “This means alot you know.” I spoke muffled.

“You deserve it Y/N, you are one of the most caring and thoughtful people I know at the BAU. i don't think you realize how much we appreciate you sometimes” Reid explained, “ or how much your company and thoughtfulness means to me Y/N”.

I looked up to see Spencer turn a deep shade of crimson as he blushed. I smirked as I didn't know he even had it in him to hug a girl let alone compliment one. I had a small sense of happiness, boastfulness and achievement that that girl was me. The rest of the day, Spencer stayed to watch movies, talk and keep me company. That was until we both fell asleep… wrapped in a blanket… in each other's arms.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #penelope garcia #matthew gray gubler #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #jason gideon #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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