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a-b-riddle · 1 year ago

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Part Six

Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.

None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.

You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.

The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.

By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.

A colleague. You had a colleague!!!

The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.

It was one of them.

You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.

Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.

A vision.

You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.

"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"

"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"

"Listen," "Bon-"

"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."

"If you just let me make it-"

"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."

"Just give me a chance."

"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”

So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."

"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.

"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”

“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.

There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.

“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”

You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.

Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.

"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.

But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.

No.

If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.

No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.

"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."

"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.

He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.

"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.

His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.

There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.

He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.

He doesn't throw you on the bed.

Not this time.

He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.

But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.

"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.

He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.

"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.

"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.

In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."

You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.

He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.

Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.

With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.

It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.

The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"

"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.

His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.

His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.

"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.

"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.

It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.

You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.

The end.

He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."

You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.

"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.

He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.

"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.

He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.

You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.

You needed it to stop.

You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.

I could die like this, Lass.

Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.

He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.

You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.

You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.

You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.

His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.

Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.

"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.

"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.

"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."

You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.

"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.

You weren't too far behind.

He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.

But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.

"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."

He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.

in out in out in out.

Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.

"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.

His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.

His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.

"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."

He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.

"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.

"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."

You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.

Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.

"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.

The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.

Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.

"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."

"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."

"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."

"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"

"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."

"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."

"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.

"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."

"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"

No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.

But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.

You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.

So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.

"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.

"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.

You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.

You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.

Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.

"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"

You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.

Three minutes.

"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."

You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.

You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.

You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.

"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.

"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."

"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #angst

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cozycottagetarot · 3 months ago

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How You'll Know They're The One

🌸 Notes:

This reading focuses on how you'll recognize that your person is "the one". I tried to think of different ways people influence our lives to create this layout and settled on the below.

💐 Reading Contents:

The Energy of Your Connection

The Signs You'll Recognise

The Role They'll Play In Your Life (Extended)

Who You'll Become (Extended)

A Major Shift That Will Happen (Extended)

A pile in this reading does touch base on mental health. Please note that it is not meant to act as or substitute professional help or advice of any kind. Also keep in mind that this reading is based off of current energies and can change as you progress on your individual journey through life. Finally, this reading is for entertainment purposes only, please take only what resonates be it some, all or none.

LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi

Personal Readings: Classic | $10 and Under - OPEN

Pile 1

The Energy of Your Connection

Cards: Two of Wands, Page of Swords, Knight of Swords, Four of Sword, The World

Your connection with your person or who you’ll consider the one will make you feel like you finally know what fulfillment is. You’ll no longer feel the need to keep chasing 'something more' constantly. You’ll finally be able to see your achievements and the beauty in who you are, who you’ve become and all that you have done. Your connection will feel like finally you’ve got a chance to rest. It’s a restorative connection, one in which you can finally find a sense of peace. But while you won’t feel the need to keep chasing something more, there’s still an energy of expansion, but this time out of a place of curiosity for what life has to offer. It’ll be a connection that not only fuels new ideas, but also gives you the courage to pursue them. It’s a whole new world has been unlocked for you.

The Signs You’ll Recognize

Cards: The World rev, Five of Cups,m The Star, Eight of Pentacles, The Moon

You could feel like you have unfinished business with this person, even if you’ve only known each other for a short while. It could feel like you’re meant to be a part of each other’s story. They might be holding onto a past experience in which you can see their sorrow. It could also be that they feel stuck or have a tendency to self-sabotage. But don’t take that as someone who is destructive and risk ‘destroying’ you. This person is also hopeful about the future and work towards it, even if their path isn’t linear. They might brighten your world— when life seems bleak, they’re the light that helps you find your way again. They are someone who is dedicated to what they do and I heard dedicated to you as well. Whatever they do, you can see they put effort into it. You might also recognize them intuitively, like there’s this nudge or inner knowing that they’re the one. They may be intuitive themselves or they could be someone who is mysterious… not intentionally but they have that energy to them.

Thank you for reading! 🫶 Curious about the role they'll play in your life, the person you'll grow into after meeting them, and the major shift their presence will spark? 🌟 Dive deeper with the extended version of this post, available in my Ko-Fi Shop as a keepsake, downloadable 15-page PDF. Explore all three piles in full detail and uncover the clues await you!

Pile 2

This pile mentions themes of mental health/well-being and could nod to physical ailments as well (specifically in the extended version). It was very difficult to read and interpret the messages, so this pile requires additional discernment on your end. 🙏

The Energy of Your Connection

Cards: The Chariot, King of Pentacles, Ten of Pentacles rev, Two of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

You and your person or the one are a good match, but not without effort. When you're cooking or baking, and you try to mix a fat or oil-based ingredient with a water-based liquid, they tend to separate. But when you emulsify them, you create a smooth, cohesive mixture that lasts longer until more ingredients are added or you emulsify again. You and your person are a bit like that. At first, it might seem like you wouldn’t go together, but with a effort and the right additions to the relationship, you can make it work. You both have to figure out how to balance and flow with each other in order to move forward. You may not have the ideal, picture-perfect, lovey-dovey relationship, but what you do have is something reliable—a stable foundation that grows stronger when you build on it. The effort it takes, brings you into sync with one another. It may require constant work, but the willingness from both sides to put in that effort is what makes it work.

The Signs You’ll Recognize

Cards: The Chariot, Seven of Pentacles, Three of Cups, Eight of Swords, Ace of Cups

You two could start off as friends or focus on friendship in your relationship. They’ll be patient but also persistent in getting to know you. Even when something might come up that makes you think, "Oh, we’re opposites" they’ll look past that to get to know you at your core and what you value, not just surface-level interest. They’ll be willing to try things you’re into and support you through your highs and your lows. They’re someone who is very loving and compassionate, emotionally open. I think you’ll recognize them by how they make you and others feel like the center of attention. *Post reading edit: I think you'll also recognize them by how they support you and give you unconditional love. It might be difficult for people to get to know you but this person sticks around and patient waits for you to open up.

Pile 3

The Energy of Your Connection

Cards: The Fool, The Hierophant, The High Priestess, Judgement, The Lovers

You and your person are very intuitive and can understand and connect with each other on a subconscious level. You two have the type of connection where you’re always learning from one another. You two could have similar values, shared beliefs or generally just have a similar mindset or view on life. Your connection with your person is one that has an element of playfulness to it too. You’ll find that you can always laugh and joke around with each other. There’s also a lot of curiosity towards each other and life together. It feels like you’ll both feel like the connection marks a new beginning in your lives. You two could also have soulmate energy which by my definition is the strong feeling that two people were meant to be together. This connection also gives you a sense of purpose whether it's individually or together. You two may also inspire each other, cultivate a deeper awareness of yourselves and hold each other accountable for your intentions and actions. It very much feels like shifting into your ‘best’ or ‘higher’ selves together.

The Signs You’ll Recognize

Cards: Nine of Swords, Eight of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, The Hierophant, The Empress

They could be prone to overthinking or generally worry a lot. They may also be someone who struggles to sleep at night. A scenario I’m getting is someone who starts spouting all these “what ifs” in the middle of the night and you just have to tell them to stop worrying and go to sleep because during the day they’re not like that at all. You’ll recognize them as someone who is such a hard worker. It doesn’t matter how repetitive or mundane the work may be, they’ll put in the effort. They’re someone who you can see they’ll be successful if they continue to put in the work at the rate they do. I don’t think they’re all hard work though. They know how to pause, give thanks for and enjoy what they’ve achieved and what exists around them in the present. They could also be someone who’s always got a new idea for a project or concept, or consuming new ideas and information. Once again, they share similar values, beliefs or mindsets to you. Finally your person or “the one” is very nurturing or creative.

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somejazzinthemorning · 1 year ago

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snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

#Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Carlos Sainz x You #Carlos Sainz Smut #Carlos Sainz Fanfic #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Formula 1 x Reader #Formula 1 x You #F1 x Reader #F1 x You #F1 Imagine #F1 One Shot #Driver x Reader #F1 Driver x Reader #Driver x You #F1 Driver x You #F1 Fanfic #FanF1ction

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prettyflyforawhitelie · 1 year ago

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Hazbin Hotel x Sick!Reader

A/N: Hey guys! I wanted to do some more x reader headcanons just because they’re so fun! I love the idea of the characters caring for you when you’re sick, it’s just so cute. I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Hazbin Hotel x Reader

Warnings: None (if you don't count tooth-rotting fluff)

Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

Essentially hides you away in his room: wants more than anything to take care of you, but refuses to expose this “softer” side of him to anyone else. If anybody knew that you were the Radio Demon’s only weakness, not only would that put him in danger, but you as well.

Will prepare any food that your heart desires - his mother brought him up to be an excellent cook! His recommended feel-good food is his mother’s jambalaya, but you absolutely love when he makes etouffee!

If anybody dares to try and disturb your well-needed sleep, he broadcasts their screams to remind them just why the hotel has a radio tower…

Will suggest that you take advantage of the bayou-side of his room for the fresh air, but of course will not force you to do anything against your complete comfort.

The best thing that he knows to do is what his mother did to him whenever he was sick: Sit in bed with him and tell him Creole folk tales. They always enamored him, and just the fact that he was allowing you to see this personal side of him made you feel better.

At the end of the day, Alastor would take advantage of the beautiful setting that the dark bayou side of his room provided and conjure up a lovely scene of fireflies, all while softly playing his piano and singing his favorite songs to guide you to sleep (You are the only person he will let hear his singing). While Alastor may seem heartless from afar, you wouldn’t trade this demon for all of the money in the world.

🗝��😈Charlie😈🗝️:

Would definitely notice that you were sick before you did and insisted that you get plenty of bedrest. When you refused, insisting that you were ok, she would monitor you until you finally accepted that you were sick and let her take care of you. She would say, “I’m not saying I told you so, buuuuuut…”

Takes care of you to the point where some tasks of the hotel were neglected, but to be honest, it was a win-win for everyone in the hotel. She was happy that you were being taken care of, and everyone else was happy that they didn’t have to participate in trust exercises.

She would crack open her book of the story of Hell - it always calms her down during an extermination, so hopefully it could calm you down as you try to sleep.

If she absolutely had to leave the hotel to do/get something, she would most definitely buy a little keepsake and bring it back for you.

She would use her love for singing to lull you to sleep, singing sweet lullabies that her mother used to sing to her as a child.

You have to constantly remind her to take care of herself as well, as she will literally remain at your bedside, not caring to eat or sleep, until you get better. She often gets so caught up in caring for others that she forgets to care for herself! You tell her that it would genuinely make you feel better to see her taking care of herself as well.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Gets more defensive over you than usual, which honestly scares everyone. Nobody wants to so much as speak to you wrong in fear of Vaggie literally attacking them. Having Vaggie around is the definition of scary dog privileges.

She’s honestly extremely dramatic when it comes to you getting sick, which may seem ridiculous, but think about it: she was thrown away by her “family” in heaven, and now you’re the only person that she truly has. You confide in her, you allow her to let her guard down. If she lost you, she doesn’t know how she could even exist. So whether you have a cold or something more serious, she will automatically jump to the worst conclusions and get worried as Hell.

As tough as she seems, Vaggie loves to cuddle. She will literally lay in bed with you all day, not caring if she gets sick as well. You’re the only person that she can be vulnerable with, and if you have to be in bed all day, you better bet she’ll be right there next to you.

Her love language is absolutely telling you about all the things that she would do to defend you. She will go into immense detail about the things that she would do for you, and you will always listen in awe. She has been through so much, and this is the only way that she knows how to express her true love for you.

The last thing she wants is for somebody to feel abandoned in their struggle like she did when she fell from Heaven, especially you. She will make sure that you know how much you are valued and loved, not just by her, but by everyone at the hotel.

When you’re finally ready to get out of bed and start participating in hotel duties again, she monitors you the whole time to make sure that you’re not over-exerting yourself.

🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:

Is very upset and on edge - Valentino forces him to work everyday, no matter the circumstances, and not being at the hotel to care for you or at least watch over you makes him feel horrible.

Basically forces you to sleep as much as you can, even better if it’s in his room so he can see that you’re okay immediately when he gets home.

Encourages you to cuddle with Fat Nuggets - he’s essentially a cute and cuddly heating pad. (He actually gives Fat Nuggets this adorable pep talk about how he needs to take good care of you while “dad” is at work)

He wholeheartedly believes in the power of comedy, so he essentially treats your bedrest as a stand-up comedy show for him to perform in order to make you laugh. He’ll tell stupid jokes, put together horrible dances, or even just hide in places and scare you in hopes that making you laugh will help you forget how bad you feel.

Loves talking to you after work. You’re essentially the only person that he takes off his hypersexual mask around, and he knows that he can be himself around you, that you would never judge him. So, sometimes he will get home to find you already asleep and get in bed with you, holding you tight, whispering all of the things that he wanted to tell you about today, hoping that at least some of his words wiggle their way into your dreams.

Loves sappy rom com movies and will 100% force you to watch them with him. He claims it’s because the “good vibes” of the romance will make you feel better, but to be honest, he just wants someone to watch his dumb movies with.

♦️🥃Husk🥃♥️:

Will blame himself for your sickness, claiming that he shouldn’t have let you drink so much over the past couple of days (He literally cannot comprehend the idea that people can be sick NOT from being hungover lol).

When you insist that it’s not his fault, he’ll ease up. He’ll use some of his bartending skills to make some sort of juice mocktail for you and will definitely sneak in some vitamin C to heal you faster.

Everyone - specifically Angel - will wonder why the fuck the bar hasn’t been stocked in days (It’s because Husk has been chilling in bed/taking care of you nonstop).

This is the only time that he will completely surrender to the idea of being one big stuffed animal to cuddle with. I mean, he’s warm, soft, and he purrs! What’s more therapeutic than that?

This is also a great time to get uninterrupted talking time with Husk. He’s a great listener, so you’ve always opened up to him, but it took him a while to open up to you too. He had told you that you were one of the only people that he trusted enough to confide in, but always seemed to air on the side of caution when sharing his personal struggles because it always seemed that someone would just pop up at the bar asking for a drink whenever it happened. This was one of the few times that the two of you could be completely open and vulnerable with each other without the risk of outside judgment.

Given the fact that he was such a gambler, Husk has a knack for all sorts of card games. If you get too bored, just give him a deck of cards and the possibilities for entertainment are endless. Want him to teach you how to play poker or rummy? Done. Want him to embarrass himself while he tries to relearn some card tricks that he used to flaunt? Done and done.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

The second you told him you were sick, he would waste no time in finding one of his many inventions that could help you in some way. He definitely has some complex medical screening device hidden somewhere that he could use… he just has to remember where he put it.

If you complain about being sore, he will insist that you snuggle up next to him. Because he’s a cold-blooded reptile, his body is one big ice pack! On the other end, if you feel yourself coming down with some feverish chills, he has you covered! His bedroom ceiling is essentially one huge heat lamp, so feel free to chill under there, too!

Has assigned himself as your personal nurse and will provide anything that your heart desires. If it for some reason cannot be found within the hotel, he will travel to any ring of Hell necessary to make sure that you are well taken care of. This man is DETERMINED.

You can tell that he’s taking this seriously because he actually neglects his “evil duties” for a couple of days. The airship isn’t even mentioned until you heal (unless, of course, you feel that taking a ride on the airship would make you feel better. Then, of course he will set it up for you!).

Despite literally voicing his complete and utter devotion to your every flight of fancy, this man is still as awkward as ever. He will still struggle to ask you if you want to cuddle, quite literally fluttering around the subject until you bring it up for him.

At the end of the day, though, Sir Pentious is probably the sweetest sinner you could’ve ended up with as your caretaker. He may be awkward, but boy, does he love you!

👹👼Lucifer👼👹:

While you are resting in bed, he will conjure up the most delightful images of anything you request (his favorite, though, is a group of ducklings waddling through a golden lake together 🫶)

Being the King of Hell, he has so many interesting stories to tell you if you’re willing to listen. He will gladly tell you stories as you lay in bed with him, slowly lulling you to sleep. (His daughter clearly got her love of storytelling from him).

He loves that you trust him enough to let him take care of you - he doesn’t often have people around, let alone people that he truly loves. Just your presence in his room truly fills him with so much joy.

He didn’t want to annoy you with his ramblings about his many rubber ducks so he was ecstatic when you asked him to give you a tour of all of them. This man was telling you each and every duck’s name, backstory, etc. and honestly, it was adorable. When he quickly glazed over one of the ducks anxiously, you asked why. He then shyly revealed that it was, in fact, a rubber duck that looked just like you.

His love language is definitely gift-giving. This rubber duck would lead to him showing the many, MANY gifts he has created for you in his free time. He always has a ton of downtime, so making gifts for people is his favorite hobby. These gifts include, but aren’t limited to: various duck items, binded storybooks, music boxes, paintings, etc. This man is TALENTED, to say the least. He just hopes that looking at these will distract you enough from being sick.

Also, his room is by far the comfiest to sleep in while you’re sick… the mood lighting that is naturally provided from his glowing light shows is simply unmatched.

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cherrychilli · 26 days ago

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18+ Eddie Munson x F!reader, established relationship, flashback friends to lovers WC:1.6K

A/N: So I'm a super sentimental person and I adore keepsakes so it got me thinking of a certain kind of keepsake reader would love to get her hands on and how it came to be in her possession. No smut in this one but my blog is strictly 18+. Enjoy!

"Babe..."

You weren't paying enough attention when he called out to you, too busy trying to clean up around your room to notice Eddie sorting through the box you stored under your bed. The one that housed all your keepsakes – ticket stubs from movies you'd seen together, napkins he'd doodled on, crumpled up early drafts of songs he'd written, all the little trinkets he'd gifted you over the years and more of the like.

But then Eddie pulls out something you'd forgotten he didn't known about yet, something that sat at the very bottom of the nearly overflowing box, a secret you were yet to share.

"Is this my hair?"

That gets your attention like a crowbar to the knee, eyes snapping to the lock of dark curled hair held together with thin black ribbon, dangling from between his thumb and index finger as he held it up for you to see.

"Oh, that..."

The first time you set foot in Hawkins was three years ago for your senior year. It was a few weeks into the move that you found yourself upholding a promise you'd made to your classmate Ronnie Ecker, a promise to come out Friday night and watch her band play at one of the local dives, the Hideout.

You were happy to go, thankful for the lifeline that was Ronnie's friendship in a town where you knew no one else. None of the others could be assed to befriend the new girl when graduation was just around the corner, everyone set to go their separate ways soon after.

The invitation sounded exciting nonetheless, even making you genuinely intrigued to see what the underground music scene was like in this grungy corner of Hawkins.

That night you were hit with the stale smell of cigarette smoke and bitter alcohol that commonly permeated establishments like this. You held your breath for as long as you could manage while you navigated the bar carefully, hoping the aroma won't cling to your hair once it was time to head back home.

Soon enough you found some space near the very front of the little stage, shuffling through to stand shoulder to shoulder with a modest crowd.

To say you found them intimidating would be an understatement. All of them unfamiliar and unsmiling and those who weren't tossing back hard liquor, chugged frosty beers right out of the bottle while decked out in dark leather and ripped denim. Cigarettes burned hot between their scowling lips too as plenty of ink and silver adorned their skin.

Looking around, you quietly wished Ronnie had clued you in on what to wear to these kinds of things. You didn't want the attention that came with standing out, hoping your suede jacket and fluttery lilac dress, not to mention your complete lack of any tattoos or piercings, wouldn't draw any looks.

Yet, despite hoping for the best and even resorting to standing still enough so as to avoid any kind of detection like some kind of poor injured prey in the wild, that nasty bite of self consciousness zeroed in on you and clenched its teeth down on you bone deep when you happened to catch the way one of the waitresses' gaze hung on you.

Her glittering pierced eyebrow climbed higher than the other while the corner of her jet black lipstick painted mouth fell into a half frown of sorts as she looked you up and down. Her eyes full of daggers, it was entirely unsubtle and unmistakable how out of place you looked to her as she returned to clearing a nearby table, dealing one final blow when she bows her head and begins to shake it disdainfully, her red dyed hair swishing gently from the motion.

'you should have known better than to show up here looking like you do'. You could read it plain as day on her disapproving pale face.

There were no real words exchanged but it was hard not to wither on the spot once she'd strut away, reminded once again of how much you didn't really feel like you belonged in Hawkins let alone the Hideout.

Smudging your own lipstick by nervously chewing on your bottom lip, it takes a lot to suppress the fleeting urge to make a break for the exit, your anxiety quietened somewhat once the lights suddenly dimmed and the band started to emerge on stage.

You met Ronnie's eye instantly and aimed a quick wave in her direction as she took her place behind the drums, her toothy grin directed back at you in return along with a friendly wink.

That was when you got a look at the rest of the band for the very first time. Each one stepped up under the amber yellow lights, making final adjustments to their instruments while you scanned them all.

It was their front man who held your attention though when he took his place behind the mic, thick guitar strap slung around his neck and chunky silver rings catching the light as he adjusted the mic stand to match his height.

You were yet to know his name. His real name anyway, refusing to refer to him by any of the monikers your classmates had dubbed him. But all those thoughts about the whispers that surrounded him, the hushed tones of 'devil worshipper' and 'town freak' went mute in your head when his honey brown eyes fell on you.

They weren't icy and cruel or quick to dismiss like most of the people you'd come to know in this town. Instead there was something distinctly warm and inviting about his wide eyed gaze, enough to make you feel more at ease than you had when you first arrived.

At least now there was one more person who seemed happy to see you.

His voice was unlike what you'd heard before too, smooth, smoky and surprisingly soulful while his fingers played fluidly over the fretboard of his flashy guitar, faster than you thought possible as your cheers echoed loudest amongst the crowd, genuinely impressed with how they were performing.

Especially him.

Up until now you'd known him mostly for the theatrics he pulled in the lunch room. Scaling the lunch tables and provoking hungry jocks by hurling clever insults along with shit eating grins and raised middle fingers. To know this was the same boy performing on stage in front of you now was a little jarring to say the least.

The whole set was so unlike any of the other musical performances you've ever seen before, even the handful of concerts you'd been able to see with your friends back home. Unable to help yourself, you grew so much more excited every time his eyes connected with yours and smiled, like he'd been seeking you out in the crowd, everyone else inconsequential.

Fuck, he looked at you like the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle - perfectly placed in front of him in a space that was meant only for you.

When it came to the final song of their set you weren't surprised that he was able to nail his electrifying solo with apparent ease, headbanging throughout it with his long, curly hair whipping in every direction. Thinking it had to be the highlight of the performance you grew from giddy to stunned as you watched him reach behind the amp during the final beats of the song, pulling out what looked to be a pair of clippers as he held it up for the audience to see.

It struck you then that this is what Ronnie must have alluded to you when she'd first asked you to come and attend. 'He really wants to make an impression, you know? we all do. And well, you've got to come out and see it for yourself', was how she had put it, practically luring you to the bar with how mysterious she'd made it all sound.

With your breath held, you watched him flick it on, raising the whirring clippers with no hesitation and running the blades across the side of his head in one clean stripe, strands of his long hair falling away like the first sign of snow.

It was hard not to be enthralled as the dark curls littered the stage in little tendrils, more falling as he kept shaving at the side of his head.

Staring at the dark hair on stage as the crowd broke into drunken cheers and whistles, you reacted a little differently from everyone else, growing silent while others grew louder.

The longer you stared the less you could help yourself.

In that moment you gave into a burst of impulse, reaching forward to snatch back a handful of hair and stuffed the locks into your pocket before you could even figure out why you'd done it.

No one had seen you do it, thankfully. His hair remained in your jacket pocket even while Ronnie introduced you to him later, trying not to stare at the freshly buzzed cut on the left side of his head, thankful he hadn't committed to shaving it all off because he really did have a nice head of hair.

You couldn't quite explain what had made you do it, only that you felt compelled to do so. But now here you were, two years into your relationship, just glad to have a part of him with you at all times.

"Guess I'm just your biggest fan", you shrugged with a smile that makes Eddie grin back at you

"You gonna give me some of yours then?", he asks, eyes hopeful as you deepen your smile at him in return.

"Get the scissors"

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things

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meimei-archives · 5 months ago

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KEEPSAKE PT2!:: rafe cameron

WARNING! :: marking, oral (m & f), fingering, slight rejection, teasing, sexual tension, dirty talk, cum eating, unprotected sex, choking, 80's au! (Mostly fluff)

SUMMARY! :: after a harsh rejection Rafe wants to prove that he is completely over his ex.

PT1

It had officially been around 2 weeks since you went on that date with Rafe, and ever since he's been sending you flowers to your doorstep, ignoring any other girl in his line of sight when your around, calling you as soon as he comes home from a day of meetings with his father telling you about his day and asking about yours.

You could tell Rafe was desperate for a second date, and at first you weren't convinced he truly had the intention of going on a well spent date and he just wanted sex, but when the date offers became less and less intimate and sounding more fun you caved.

Just the night before he called you at the same time asking about your day and if you were free the next day. It felt like a scene in sixteen candles, sitting on your bed with your desk lamp twirling the yellow cord to your landline that sat beside your bed on your finger as he talked. You couldn't break the small smile as you hear him stutter over his words to ask you if you would go out with him on a date.

"Better than last time. I promise" he said, and that's when you knew he was serious. He humbled himself after you gave him your panties on your doorstep and sent him off in his shiny red car back home deflated by the slight rejection. He really wanted to be clear that not one girl in outer banks had his attention like you did. Not Sofia, or Kiara, or Ruthie. None of them can hold a candle to you.

Something about you just screamed you were different than any other girl he's been with, any other girl would be calling him back for a second date but instead he's the one calling and chasing after you like a lost puppy. And when you finally accepted his offer he almost jumped with joy as he told you with the biggest lopsided smile that he'd pick you up at 7 after a meeting and hung up the phone too giddy to even continue a conversation.

When you hear the doorbell ring you give yourself the final touches, straightening out your skirt and checking your makeup, you make it to your front door with a grin as you open the door to greet the tall blonde haired boy who held a bouquet of flowers wrapped in a reflective cellophane.

"I got you flowers, I didn't know what your favorite kind were so I just got what reminded me of you" he says as he smiles handing them over to you. Your grin grew wide as you looked down at them "you're already taking me on a date, you didn't have to get me flowers Cameron" you say teasingly as you press the flowers to your nose taking in the smell.

"I like them" you say as you place in a vase that had been sitting in your foyer along with other flowers your mom most likely set out and watered every morning. "If you're ready we can head over to the carnival, I'm pretty sure at this time it's more lively" he says with a smile holding out his hand to you gently.

Taking it you felt how soft yet sweaty his palm was. You could only assume he was nervous, this was his second chance to get to know you better than your last date which was an absolute shit show to say the least. Guiding you to the passenger side door he opens the door and waits until you're seated perfectly in his leather seats before he closes the door.

Putting on your seatbelt you could hear the faint sound of music playing which makes you hum along to the upbeat song. The yellow and orange tones of the sun as it was beginning to set makes you feel warm as you look out the window into your neighborhood as he pulls out of your gravel driveway and onto the streets into the direction of the carnival.

"I feel like on our last date I didn't let you talk enough... so I'll give you the floor" he says with a small grin, eyes flickering from the road to you. "Well isn't that just the sweetest thing?" You tease him with a small laugh earning a chuckle out of him.

On the way there you and Rafe kept the conversation going, you both talked about your taste in music and even fought over which songs on the radio were bad and laughed about how Rafe had caught two kids in the movie theater after hours while he was cleaning up and was scared half to death. The car ride was so chaotic that Rafe almost drove past the entrance to get in. And when you made it to the parking lot of a packed Carnival you knew this date would be fun.

The both of you get out of the car and walk into the crowds of people, keeping close you could feel Rafe's large hand on your lower back as the both of you point and look around for things you want to do.

"How about we get on a rollercoaster first do we know what we're dealing with yeah?" He asks as he tears his eyes from the large ride that was spinning and carrying kids of all ages screaming their heads off. "Yeah, that sounds like fun" you smile up at him, pointing in the direction of the big ride.

"You wanna get on this ride? I mean if you're scared or anything we can get on something else" he says as you both walk closer "I'm sure" you nod with a smile on your lips watching as kids spill from the exit gate looking pale and sick.

"Really? Like you're 100% sure?" He asks his voice going up in pitch making you laugh "Rafe if you're scared to ride it then you don't have to get on it with me" you said laughing it up.

He scoffs as he straightens his posture "I'm not a kid y/n I can handle some stupid 5-minute ride that spins" he rolls his eyes dramatically making you smile "if you say so. But if you throw up on this ride I think we can get on the kiddy rides" you say with a big smile that has your eyes almost closing which has his heart fluttering.

"Whatever. But just know, I won't because I'm a man and I can handle a stupid ride" he says once again making you shake your head as the ride conductor opens the gate letting people on the ride and taking their tickets.

And as the two of you got on you see that only a few spots were left the both of you right beside each other as you press your backs to the cold rusting metal you push the bar below your waist close and grip onto the handles. "Is this safe? I mean there are no straps or anything" he says from beside you as he grips the metal bars that seemed to be chipping away.

"We'll be moving too fast to even move Rafe. Besides they have a bar holding down our waists, we're gonna be fine. And- if you want you can hold my hand until it's over" you say as you watch the worker close the gate to the ride taking the safety precautions before going into the control booth.

"I'm only taking your hand because you'll probably be scared. I don't need to hold your hand like a kid" he says scoffing as he repeatedly tries to put up a brave front while he is practically screaming from the inside. His large hand grips yours over the bar, turning his head to see you already looking at him with a fond smile.

"What?" He asks with a soft smile "you're scared" you coo making his jaw slack as he's ready to defend himself which makes you smile even wider as the dramatic and intense music of the ride plays and small lights flash. "It's about to start! Aren't you excited?!" You ask almost jumping with joy to see the nauseous look on his face.

"Sure" he nods as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back. He was stressed out and the ride hadn't even moved yet. His grip on your hand becomes tighter once he feels the ride begin to slowly move and he can hear the old gears and screws sputter. "Oh god" he whispers to himself.

He feels his heart flip at the sound of your screaming and laughing, and when he opens his eyes he can't help but smile and laugh at your wide eyes while the wind blows your hair wildly the yellow bright lights from the carnival rides around you lighting up your face. He laughs as he sees your head toss back in sheer delight, he realized the ride wasn't so bad after all.

And when it was over he was dizzy and lovesick. And as the both of you walk out of the small exit gate you stop eyeing all of the stands and trucks with food and games. "Why don't we get some cotton candy? Play a few games and then get something to eat before we go?" Ge asks, looking down at you.

Nodding at his proposal you look up at him "I heard fair cotton candy tastes like a cavity waiting to happen" you laugh as you think about the time your mom told you she hated the taste of cotton candy. "What?! Who said that? Because cotton candy tastes the best when it's from a fair" he explains in shock.

"My mom. She doesn't like it so I just never ate it because I assumed it was gross" you scrunch your nose making his eyes widen at your words. "Oh, you're serious?!" He asks as he looks around for the cotton candy stand.

"You've never gotten candy? Like ever in your life?" He asks in utter shock. "No, never. What's so wrong with that?!" You laugh at him who was completely mind blown at the little fact he just learned about you. "You're just missing out is all I'm saying" he shrugs holding his hands up which makes you laugh harder.

"Okay... so why don't you give me the first-time experience of eating cotton candy" you smile up at him. "It's gonna blow your mind I swear," he says while he grabs your hand softly and unconsciously as he pulls you along the crowd of kids, teens, and parents who're most likely emptying their pockets on food and games.

As the both of you near a man dressed obnoxiously you clench your hand in Rafe's as you cringe. "Do you want pink or blue?" He asks quietly as the both of you near the man working the machine with a pack of long white paper sticks in hand.

"What do you usually get?" You ask, looking at the man before flickering your eyes to Rafe. "I mean I get blue, it tastes really good" he nods as he pulls his wallet out of his back pocket seemingly dropping your hand to your dismay. "Then I'll get blue" you nod watching as he pulls a crisp $5 out of his wallet.

"Cool," he says as he walks to the man politely asking for two sticks of blue cotton candy. You stand back in awe as he laughs at the man's words you can't seem to catch. But when he nods his head towards you, you can't help but feel a tinge in your stomach.

"Is that your girlfriend over there waiting for you?" The man asks as he swivels the paper cone around the spun sugar forming into a neat ball of fluff in a pastel blue color. "Ah, no. We're here on a date. And I'm hoping that if it goes well I'll eventually get to ask her to be" he explains with a bittersweet smile. "I remember when I was young and I asked my wife on dates like these" he sighs as he reminisced.

"How long have you been married?" He asks with raised brows "15 years, but we've been together for 18" he nods as he hands off the come to his going to make another one. "That's cool" he smiled as he can imagine the couple being his age walking around like him and you.

"Here you are! I hope your date goes well" he smiled at Rafe, making him nod as he handed off his money and turned on his heel to see you looking at him with narrow eyes. As he comes closer he sees you reach your hand out to him making him smile, you genuinely seemed excited to eat.

Handing you the sweet confection he could see the way your eyes sparkled "let's go sit down and eat these before we go running around yeah?" He looks at you. "Mhm," you hum as you look for a nearby vacant bench.

And as the both of you sit down you eye the cotton candy suspiciously and then look over at Rafe who had paused to watch your reaction. "Well? Why are you just looking at it?" He laughed, "try it. I promise it's not gonna bite you," he says, shaking his head with a huge smile.

"What if I don't like it?" You ask with a small pout "then we'll throw it away" he answers with a shrug "but then that would have been a waste of money" you answer back making him sigh. "It's not about the money y/n it's about the experience. And if you don't like it we'll throw it away, or I can eat it" he reasons with you. "Okay" you mumbled as you sniffed the candy, almost surprised at how sweet it smelled.

Excitedly you take a small bite out of it and in almost an instant you feel it dissolve making you hum and chew before swallowing it. "Did you like it?" He asks tilting his head to meet your gaze, only to see your pupils were blown out and a small smile on your face. "I love it" you whisper which makes him chuckle.

You look like a kid whose parents bought them their favorite ice cream. "I knew you would," he says fondly as he takes a bite out of his. As the both of you talk and look amongst the crowd you see 2 kids smiling and laughing and you couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"What are you smiling about?" He asks looking around to see if anything, in particular, would catch his eye. "Those two kids. Over there, they're so cute" you point over at the two twin boys as they stood in front of the fish bowl game tossing rings hoping they could get a pet fish.

"Really? You like kids?" He asks his smile softly as he learns another thing about you "I wouldn't say I like them, I just sometimes enjoy how adorable they can be" you shrug pretending that you had no idea what he was talking about. "Yeah?" He asks as his eyes flicker between you and the young boys.

"Yeah," you say back, and out of the corner of your eye you watch him stand up from the bench which makes your brows shoot up "what are you doing?" You ask with a nervous smile. "I'll be back, just stay here," he says, handing you his cone with only a bit of cotton candy left on it.

Your eyes follow him as he walks away, it wasn't until you saw him tap one of the boys asking if he could help them win a fish that you realized his plan. You were smiling so big as you saw the two boys celebrating the fact that Rafe had tossed the last few rings, making them on the rim of the bowls that contained fake plastic fish inside.

Smiling and celebrating with them, the small boys were practically shining as the guy running the stand gave a bag with a little orange fish inside that had the boys looking up at Rafe smiling and thanking him. Only brushing them off with a smile and a "no problem" before walking back over to you and sitting back down.

"You're sweet" you mumbled to him as you bite off the last chunk you can on your cone and tossed it into the trash can next to the bench. "They needed help," he shrugged with a grin. "Whatever." You roll your eyes sarcastically "hurry up and finish so we can play that game with the water guns" you say practically bouncing to play the game.

And when he scarfs down the rest the both of you were almost skipping to get into the short line and play. "I bet that I can beat you no problem" Rafe teased "what?! absolutely not. We had gym together our sophomore year and you sucked at dodgeball because your aim was shit" you scoffed making him open his mouth to defend himself but he couldn't.

"Okay, that's fair. How about the next game we play with the balloons and darts. Since your aim is so good how about we bet whoever wins gets what they want" he says sternly looking down at you. "Fine. If I win you have to buy me a cherry slushie" he nods "okay that's fine" he plays it cool with his words.

"And if you win?" You ask looking up at him curiously as to what he could be thinking of if he has to win. "If I win, I get a kiss" he teased, which makes you laugh and shake your head. The both of you saw how you were next in line and could see all the stuffed animals were hung up and you were eyeing the big pink teddy bear.

Rafe caught whim of it as you both sat on the stools in front of the booth. The woman behind the booth smiles as she states the rules, counting down the both of you hearing the ring that urges you to start. And just as you presumed your aim was really good, hitting the target you saw the balloon over the top of it filling up with water.

Rafe shouts as he struggles to aim the water where he needs, making you laugh as his balloon is barely filled with water. "If you want I can help you," you say loudly over the noises of people around you. "I can still win, I don't need your help" he sassed you which makes you giggle at his stubbornness.

When your balloon popped and a loud ringing sound to determine you had won made Rafe laugh at how you shot out of your chair shouting in celebration. "I told you I'd win," you say as you pat his shoulders "whatever, I just let you win because you were so excited" he drags out his words as he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Just admit you have shit aim, and I beat you fair and square," you say as you arch a brow at him he only shakes his head "we'll just have to see after this when I beat you at the next game," he says with a casual shrug only making you shake your head. You turn towards the woman at the stand smiling at your bickering.

"Choose whatever stuffed animal you want," she says as she points a wooden staff at the toys hung up along a small wire. "The big penguin" you smile as you point to it with shimmering eyes which makes Rafe's brows furrow as he remembers you looking at the teddy bear.

The woman handing it off to you as Rafe pays, you see him turn to look at you "I won you this" you hold it out for him to take wide eyes peering up at him for a reaction. "What? It's your prize, why don't you just keep it?" He asks, shaking his head "because it reminded me of you so I wanted to give it to you" you smile. Most girls remember guys when they win them stuffed animals, but you- you won Rafe a stuffed animal and he'd cherish it with his whole heart.

"You didn't have to. I saw you looking at the teddy bear, so I thought you'd get it for yourself" he says as he gently takes the plushie from your hands holding it to his chest and squeezing it. "I felt bad, you've paid for everything we've done today. I just thought this was the least I could do" you say softly making him practically melt.

Everything about you made Rafe feel fuzzy. How your eyes crinkle when you laugh, how you had birthmarks and moles littering your pretty skin, how you looked breathtaking underneath the colorful lights all over the place, even after you got on a ride your hair tousled and you didn't even bother to fix it because regardless you still looked good.

"Earth to Rafe... are we gonna play the next game or not?" You laughed as you watched him sit in silence and stare blankly at you for a moment. "Yeah- yeah we can.. go now" he sputters over his words nodding as he pulls himself out of his small lovesick daze.

"You know, I've never played darts before so you might have an advantage over this game," you say as you both settle on walking towards the game that had been set up with balloons. "Don't forget our bet. If I win I get a kiss" he teased and you only roll your eyes "yeah and if I win I get a slushie" you say as you both walk to the wooden counter to set up Rafe handing him 20 dollars.

"You just aim for the balloons and whoever pops the most or pops all the balloons before the other wins" which sounded easy to you. But when she had announced that the game had begun Rafe lifted a dart up aiming straight for a balloon and popping it. You watched and did the same only seeing as it had missed.

You both were giggling like kids forgetting completely about the stupid little bet the both of you had arranged. When you guys had gotten more darts you could feel frustration bubbling in your chest as you feel yourself becoming more competitive.

You hadn't realized how passive you began to toss the darts until you had seen Rafe disappear from your line of sight which makes you turn your head in hopes that you would be able to find him if you looked fully. But when you feel a hand on your forearm and a hard chest pressed against your back making your breath hitch.

"Relax, lift your arm and aim at the balloon you want" he says slowly, your breath caught in your throat. The warmth of his hand around your wrist as he straightens it has your head spinning. "Try it" he huffs, the feeling of his warm breath on the back of your neck makes you slightly shiver while you attempt to gather yourself to aim the dart at the balloon.

One of his hands drifting to your waist holding you, honestly if he hadn't on time you would've most likely collapsed from how weak in the knees he had made you. Taking in a deep breath as you feel his hand tighten on your waist, your grip on the dart tightens, you look at a balloon that still hasn't popped.

Slightly bending your arm back you slightly jump forward letting go of the dart hearing the loud pop bringing you back to your senses you smile and turn on your heel with a smile on your lips "I did it" you almost squeal as you wrap your arms around his torso.

Rafe could only smile at the giddy feeling bubbling inside his stomach practically flipping while he wraps his arms around you "that's good, but I still need to beat you" he teased as he pulled away wishing that it would last longer. Scoffing "if you wanted to win so badly you shouldn't have taught me how to do better" he said, pulling away and turning back to the game.

The game continued on for around 5 minutes with Rafe winning with a cocky smirk on his lip as he tossed a few teasing comments at you. "Looks like you won, and didn't cheat... I guess" you say, rolling your eyes sarcastically. "Yeah, let's go to get you your slushy and then I'll take you home" he said, pulling you to his side with his hand resting on your hip.

Your brows furrowed as he completely pushed aside the fact that he had bet on a kiss. Maybe he forgot. That's what you kept telling yourself at least. He didn't let go of your hip when he ordered for you and paid, but on the way back to the car he was smiling and talking.

Maybe he just didn't want to kiss you. This date was completely different from your last one, he wasn't trying so hard to impress you, he was actually letting you talk about yourself and was just all around being a good date. You just couldn't help but feel a tinge in your stomach that told you that he didn't want to kiss you.

But as you sit in the car you hold the small penguin and rub your hand against the faux fur in sheer silence as the radio plays low. Rafe's eyes on the road while his fingers tap in a rhythm against the leather steering wheel. Your eyes train on the street lights that whip past the car window in orange blur's.

When he pulled into your gravel filled driveway you realized you rarely wanted the night to end. Even if Rafe didn't want to kiss you, he still treated you well on your date proving that whatever stupid front he put on when he took you on your first one but he was nothing like before.

Opening his door first Rafe walks to the passenger side and opens the door for you, holding out his hand you take it giving him a sweet smile mumbling your gratitude to him only earning him a hum. He doesn't let go of your hand, but he shuts the door behind you as you begin to slowly walk towards your familiar front door.

Suddenly it all came rushing back to Rafe, your last date was sort of shit show and he regrets treating you like every other girl he had gone on dates with in the past. It was the simple fact that none of those other girls were like you, they wouldn't dare reject him for a second date.

None of them would be bold enough to even take their panties off on their doorstep and stuff them in his pocket. Hell Rafe couldn't even remember the other girls before you, because every detail from; how you've never eaten cotton candy, to liking scary carnival rides took up all the space in his brain.

That's why he didn't kiss you. And as the both of you walk up the steps to your front porch you stand under the dim orange-ish light with a smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today, this tops our last date for sure" you said smiling

Rafe nods agreeing, taking a deep breath "I'm glad it's nothing like our last date to be honest with you" he sighed. You tilt your head at his words "how come?" You ask "because today was really great, I liked that you got to talk about yourself and it wasn't just me talking about myself" he scoffed which makes you huff out a small giggle.

"How come?" You say you look into his eyes only to see him already looking at you. "Learning all these things about you made me cherish the time we had. You even won me a penguin, I don't think any future date will top this one. And I don't think I want to go on any future dates with... anyone else but you" he says as his words become more quiet with each passing word that comes out before he can even think.

You smile at him and your eyes soften at the confession. "I don't think I want to go on any more dates with anyone else but you either. But I'm just curious about something" you return his feelings and it makes his heart soar within the confinements of his chest. "Hm?" He looks at you with a curious gaze trying to fight the smile on his lips.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" You ask quietly, your eyes trail to your beat up shoes getting a bit of dirt on them from walking about the carnival for so long. "Oh, I didn't want things to end up like last time. I didn't want to seem like I was only doing this to get into your pants. Maybe that was the initiative the last time I was here but the more I called you and we talked the more I realized that I didn't just want sex with you" he says hoping you'd look at him and see how genuine he was.

"And I know you think I still want to be with Sofia, but I don't. I really don't. Because you, you were a wake up call to move on. The way you rejected me so many times, you didn't hesitate to humble me, you broke my stupid facade. All of that playboy act was bullshit. Sofia broke my heart and I didn't know what to do so I just slept around until I finally met my match" he says the words coming from his mouth were coming out a mile a minute but you understood.

He was being genuine and you could tell by the sound of his passionate voice. "And I really need you to believe me" he whispers as he takes a step closer to you. When you finally looked to meet his gaze you failed to realize that the gap between you was barely a thing. "I do, I believe you. And although I wasn't really set on going to this date because of our last one I realized that I couldn't really blame. You have your faults and you learned your lesson. I really do like you Rafe, and I thought that when you won the bet you were going to kiss me and then you didn't. I thought this was all just payback and that you were going to tell me to never talk to you again" you laughed breathily.

Rafe could feel it on his skin as the cold air nipped at his pale skin. "You wanted me to kiss you?" He asks his voice just barely above a whisper, you nod with a smile "I was waiting all night for you to do it" you answered back. And it didn't take much for Rafe to cup your jaw, his warm breath ghosting over your face bringing warmth to your body covered in goosebumps for the cold night air.

His nose brushing against yours has your eyes fluttering shut anticipating the warmth of his lips on yours he leans closer, hesitation dripping all over him. You lean in as well, your stomach felt like you had been riding a roller coaster over and over again and the closer you moved together you could feel his warm breath on your lips which makes you feel like you're at the tipping point of the ride and you're about to hit the drop.

Your eyes flutter closed and you both pull together like two magnets as your lips catch each other's softness. You suck in a small breath through your nose as your lips move in a rhythm. Your hands find their way to the nape of his neck letting your fingers entangle in his blonde hair .

His hand touches your hip giving it a small squeeze, his tongue licks a small stripe against your bottom lip making your part your lips, you brush your tongue against his shyly feeling his warm wet tongue against yours.

Letting out a small groan, Rafe's hand makes way to the belt loop of your jeans, hooking two fingers inside and pulling your hips closer against his. Your chest pressed against his sent him into a small daze.

His tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of cherry slushie and cotton candy on his tongue. Pulling away he chases your lips with nothing but sheer eagerness. "It's starting to get really cold, do you wanna come inside and warm up?" You asked breathily as your forehead presses against his eyes clouded with satisfaction in yourself.

He breathily laughs at your way of inviting him inside but nonetheless he accepts "yeah, I don't want you to catch a cold" he mumbled slightly out of breath as you pull away from his warmth fishing your keys out of your pocket and unlocking the door to your empty house. You felt like a kid again sneaking back into your house with a boy you knew was bad news and regardless you would still do it.

Closing the door right behind you it didn't take much for him to pull you by the arm into his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist pressing the warm palms of his hands to your lower stomach, his head over your shoulders makes you suck in a small gasp "you warm now?" He mumbles as he kisses the nape of your neck.

Your hands find his as you hold them in yours almost moaning at the feeling of his warm lips on your cold skin "mhm, feels really good" you whisper as if you had been any louder you would be caught. But you knew you wouldn't, your parents were never home longer than a week before they were off to some business in another state:

"But I think we would feel even more warm in my bed" you shiver under his touch as his hands begin to trail under your shirt. "You think so? Because I heard skin to skin contact helps too" he says you could feel his smirk against your skin as he leaves small wet kisses on your skin. "Well then I think we need to take off our clothes for that" you laugh breathily as he pulls away.

You both kick off your shoes giggling like you're high out of your minds while you pull him further into your home and up the staircase that leads to your bedroom. The halls are dark and if it had been any other night you wouldn't mind but the fact that you wanted to see Rafe so badly almost had you audibly cursing.

But as soon as you make it to your bedroom door you don't hesitate to practically rip your door off the hinges as you twist your doorknob and pull your door open, you practically drag him inside that has him stumbling in as you reach your light switch. The sight of your bedroom was almost exactly like what he had imagined, only smiling to himself as he looked over at you who was standing at your door with a smile on your face as you practically scale his figure.

He could feel heat all up and down his body, not that he minded in the least but it was getting harder not to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. He didn't care what it was, your presence was enough for him but he couldn't keep himself contained as he strides towards you, pushing your hips against the door hearing a thud of your body meeting the door harshly you almost moan at the feeling of his chest pressed against yours.

"I don't want anyone but you, and I think I've known that for a while now" he whispered as he pressed his forehead to yours, holding eye contact with him seemed to get harder "really?" You ask in a bit of disbelief which makes him scoff "I haven't slept with anyone or gone out since our last date. I was so hellbent on getting you on a second date and actually getting to know you that I just couldn't think of anyone else" he says as he leans in, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Not even Sofia?" You whispered into his lips, Rafe shakes his head "not even once. It's only been you" he answers as his kisses go from short and sweet to passionate and soft. And the moment your lips meet, has been a long time coming, an eruption of your lust. His lips are warm and gentle as he kisses you softly, delicately, as if he isn't sure you're real and he's still checking.

He's stealing your breath, and inhaling all the sweet little sounds you make, swiping his tongue to get a taste of your lip balm before it's completely kissed away. You're smiling against his mouth, you can't help it, giggling lightly at the feel of his breath fanning over your kiss-swollen lips.

His hands hold your hips pulling against his, you rock your hips feeling how hard he was becoming. You moan at the feeling of him pressing against your front, and although it had been weeks you couldn't forget how big he was, or how good it felt. the thought alone had your panties sodden with slick, and you could feel it begin to pool and settle. you were so unbearably wet, so touch-starved, you needed to feel some sort of relief. and right now, the friction was the closest thing to provide that.

Pulling away you chase after his lips only to hear him laugh breathily. His fingers tilt your chin back as your eyes bore into the ceiling, a small gasp slips out of your mouth when you feel his teeth brush against the skin on your throat. The warmth of his tongue makes you moan and ball your hands into fists. You were panting almost like a dog at the feeling of him kissing and sucking on your skin leaving behind what you assumed to be marks that would grow into dark purple spots within the hour.

Shivering as his warm breath ghosts her skin which is a reminder of why the both of you had been up in your bedroom in the first place. "Still cold?" He asks lifting his face away from your neck to look at you who had goosebumps rubbing up your skin. You nod your head meeting his gaze. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asked as his hand rubbed against your arm.

You only shrug at his sudden care; it almost made you flustered if it wasn't for how needy you were. "Can you still warm me up? I wanna take up your offer on that skin to skin contact" you say with a faint smirk on your lips at the suggestion. He scoffs and shakes his head "that's why we're here" he says giving you his own smirk.

Pulling away from you his hand catches yours as he tugs you towards the direction of your bed stopping before the both of you can get underneath the sheets. "Skin on skin, remember?" He says turning towards you "so strip for me" he mumbled as his hands caught the back of his shirt pulling it over his head messing up his hair. Tossing his shirt to the floor he looks at you awaiting your next move.

Reaching for your shirt you pull yours off as well leaving you in a bra, your jeans and panties. The both of you strip down to nothing, smiling and letting out small huffs and giggles until you're both bare, Rafe cups your jaw pulling your chest to his as his lips clash into yours, the both of you fall into the messy sheets of your bed barely breaking the kiss.

You straddle over his lap, his hands are all over your bare back while his nails drag across your skin lightly until his hands are tangled into your hair already messy from the wind and rides you had been on in the past few hours. You hum into the kiss pulling away foreheads pressed against each other you smile trying to catch your breath.

"I'm feeling warm already" you tease mumbling against his lips "yeah? Well I think you're still a little cold, and I wanna warm you up more" he says with a smirk on his lips that was very obvious. "Go ahead, I wanna see your technique" you laugh at your choice of words. Rafe pats your thighs as a way of telling you to get up, you lay flat on your back with your head to the pillow. Looking up at him you could see how well sculpted his body and face was.

Every scar, freckle, mole, dent, scratch, and scab. It didn't matter one bit to you. In your eyes he was as beautiful as they come, and while he practically hovered over your body giving you feather kisses from your jaw and neck, down to your navel, until he disappeared under the covers of your body. You could feel your heart beating in your throat as he kissed your hips, lifting your legs over his shoulder like they were nothing and kissing your inner thighs.

"You're being such a tease" you whisper you could feel the warmth of his breath fan across your pussy that had almost made your thighs snap shut. "Just doing my job" he mumbled as his tongue pressed flat against your pussy earning a breathy moan as he dragged it from your entrance to your clit loving the sweet sound of your moans.

"Oh fuck" you whispered as he presses his thumb against your clit and continuing to lick and kiss everything he possibly can. You moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head pushing him against your pussy.

Groaning against you sent vibrations all over as you let out a small giggle that broke into a moan feeling the harsh pad of his thumb rub against your clit while his tongue worked to push inside you. Pushing your thighs against your chest and pushing them together you became more aware of every touch, lick, and kiss he gave to you.

The sounds you make are music to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face. "Feels so good Rafe" you moan.

You could feel his lips curve against your pussy sending shivers down your spine. The wet muscle repetitively enters you, eager to gather your juices. It feels like heaven, stomach tightening with each second.

Pulling away his thumb Rafe flattens his tongue against you licking from your entrance to your clit again, kissing it he sucks harshly on the bud with no regard as you moan his name mindlessly.

"Oh my god" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groans, your eyes shut as you "please use your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thigh, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away, licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cool metal of his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head he looks up at you from the small blanket over his head with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes you look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Hm?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were blooming with a soft blush, you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his dirty words, you clench harder "yes please" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on them.

Without a single falter in his movements his fingers began to rub against the gummy part of your walls at a faster rate as the sound of your sopping pussy getting pounded by his fingers made you squeal.

"Feels so good" you cry out hoping to god he wouldn't stop the rewarding pace he had set. Your hips involuntarily buck against his fingers as his assault of pleasure on your pussy consumed you whole.

"I'm close" you whine as the sloshing sound and the sound of you and Rafe's mixed heavy breathing had been the only thing you could hear "yeah, you gonna cum all over my fingers?" He asks teasingly as his tongue licks a long stripe against your clit that had the feeling in the pit of your stomach churning in anticipation for your orgasm.

"Yes, wanna cum just for you" you whine under your breath as he pushes and pulls his fingers in and out of you faster watching you come closer and closer to the edge waiting for him to catch you. He sucks and licks your clit harshly making you let out a loud moan as you cum all over his fingers.

"So good" he hummed as he fucks you through your high slowing down as he kisses your clit that's now sensitive making you writhed under him. "Doing so good for me" he giggled as he pulled away from you kissing your thighs as if he was rewarding you.

You let out a small giggle that turned into a choked whine when his long fingers pulled out of you. With no hesitation he sucked on his fingers licking off any essence and cum you had left on his digits. Kissing up your stomach and chest once more he meets your lips, tasting yourself on his tongue and having you moaning against his mouth. "Wanna suck you off" you mumbled into his lips pressing yours against his harder.

"Yeah?" He asks, he can tell you are eager to get his cock in your mouth but that doesn't bother him in the least you nod as you pull away from him, the warmth the both of you shared had you feeling fuzzy. "Yeah, want it real bad" you almost whimpered at the thought of sucking him off again like you did in his car.

"I'm not stopping you" he says as the both of you shuffle around the bed switching places, the sheets warms underneath you as you settle between his legs. His cock hard pressed against his lower abdomen flushed at the tip glossy with precum. "You smile at his words as you spit in the palm of your hand, wrapping it around his shaft slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb.

You hear him grunt making you slightly more confident with your actions, your other hand on his thigh gently squeezing as you listen closely to every huff, and groan that falls from his lips slowly. And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already-there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's cursing and digging his nails into the mattress once again.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the sheets in. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh, god" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate right now. So flushed and pretty.

you take him deeper, using the back of his thighs to force yourself down. He's big. thick. and the stretch that comes along with taking him in your mouth is a plaguing reminder. but you don't mind it too much, you like the thought of him when he's all deep in your throat, and you can feel the tip of him hot and heavy in the back of your throat. it makes you gag, and choke, and your eyes get cloudy with tears to the point they spill over, but it's worth it. It's worth it without fail.

you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can't, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the tip into a sticky mess. The sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been thinking about all day. this was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate.

He can't help but to reach out and rub the callused pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek.

A string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with unparalleled ferocity. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his balls.

He can feel you start to get antsy, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last drop has been emptied into your mouth.

"Fuck" he breathily moaned as you pull away from him, your throat burning and tears wetting you lashes as your lungs begged for air, you couldn't help but puff out a few choked up giggles. "Still so damn pretty" he mumbled leaning forward, capturing your lips in a meaningful kiss. His hands caressing your cheeks as he refused to part from the kiss.

Filled with tongue and teeth clashing, it didn't matter that much to you because the feeling of his soft lips pressed to yours made you feel 10 times lighter. His hands find your hips, guiding you onto the empty side next to him, leaning over top of you finally breaking the kiss. The both of you having to catch your breath smiling and giggling close to each other's face not wanting to be too far apart.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going?" He whispered, you could feel the hesitation written all over his face. "Nothing could change my mind" you answer him pressing your forehead against his as he presses his tip against your clit rubbing it teasingly making the both of you whimper. The sticky sound filling the room as you both breath heavily as he teases you a bit more, eventually becoming impatient with himself as he settles comfortably between your thighs.

Rubbing his tip against your entrance and slowly pushing his head in he whimpers at the sudden warm and tight feeling, his head dropping against your neck as he fucks into you with just his tip making the both of you moan. Kissing and sucking on your neck he pulls out making you whine, he pulls your leg over his shoulder "I want to feel you deep" he groans as your leg meets your chest as he leans into you.

This time he lets himself sink inside you in a place he's never touched before that had your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked at the feeling. You adjust to his size in less than a minute, his head back in the junction of neck leaving wet kisses in his wake "please move" you beg softly, how could he have possibly said no?

His hips moving slow and deep, the slick and obnoxious sound of your pussy and his heavy breathing against your skin had your hands trailing his back dragging your nails against his skin. "Feels so fucking good" he moaned loving the feeling of you around his so closely. Nodding at his words you were addicted to the way his cock dragged against your rigid walls.

His thrusts becoming harder and deeper than before your moans become louder, his teeth dragging against your neck had your mind in a haze. "Faster please" you whine digging your nails into his shoulder leaving behind red crescent shapes indents on his skin. "Beg for it" he whispered his grip on your upper thigh becoming harder, slowing down.

"Please Rafe, I need it so bad. Please" you whine, it was enough for him to pick up pace completely. Pulling away from your neck the both of you moaning loudly as the sound of skin slapping becomes apparent. "Oh fuck" Rafe moans as his brows pinch together while the feeling of nothing but pleasure takes over his entire mind. Capturing your lips in a rough and sloppy kiss as the both of you moan against each other's lips.

Clenching down on him Rafe moans louder than before, his thrusts becoming sharp and deep. "Rafe, oh my god" your moans ripple through your throat. Feeling eager to cum Rafe pulls your other leg over his shoulder pressing your thighs to your chest. Your head falls back against the pillow you let all sense of emotions slip. Your eyes flutter shut as the pace becomes more messy, Rafe's hand presses against the mattress gripping the sheets tightly making his veins become more prominent.

"I wanna cum inside you so bad" he says breathlessly watching your expression twist "please do. Please cum inside me" you moan clenching down on him tighter pushing him closer to his orgasm. Kissing up your calf his head falls back feeling how you're tightening around him, it was all too familiar that you were going to cum the thought alone made him not too far behind you. Moans becoming louder "please don't stop" you beg once more which earns a whimper from him.

"I'm gonna cum" he moaned as his fingers found your clit rubbing messy circles that has your hands roaming the sheets gripping them "me too"'you rasp as you feel yourself toppling right over the edge as a loud groan spills out of his swollen lips. Breathing becomes sporadically you both moan as you feel his warm cum fill you up. Your legs shake as the slight overstimulation gets to you.

His thrusts slow down and then stop completely until he pushes your shaking legs off his sore shoulders and pulling out slowly you both wince. Rafe watches as his cum dribbles down your ass and thighs biting his lip sighs as he falls down into the pace beside you. The bed filled with warmth he pulls your naked back to his chest. "I'll clean you up in a bit" he mumbled into your hair, taking in the sweet scent of you.

"Forget it. I'm too comfy like this, just stay and clean me up in the morning" you mumbled tiredly as well. "You want me to stay?" He asks not too much of a shock but the question now all comes rushing back to you the leading up events to this. "If we could stay here forever then I wouldn't have it any other way" you say making him smile content with your words.

He didn't mind this all too much, he didn't care if there wasn't a label or if there was. All he needed was you.

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weirdworldofwinnie · 3 months ago

Text

All Tied Up

The Wizard/Oscar Diggs x female reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You've been The Wizard's pet 'plaything' more or less for a while now after ending up in the land of Oz by accident. One night he decides to try a new trick in the bedroom.

Warnings: unprotected sex, age gap (much older man/younger woman), power imbalance dynamic, slight daddy kink, nonconsensual mildish bondage, mentions of kidnapping and imprisonment, drinking, drugging

Word Count: ~6,471

A/N: Ever since watching Wicked when it debuted in theaters, I cannot get over Jeff Goldblum as the absolute sexiest Wizard of Oz and so this was born out of a little self-indulgence that I'm happy to share with others who are also down horrendously bad for this man. Takes place before the main climatic events of part one of the movie and obviously not entirely accurate to canon. Reader is AFAB for this (I might write another fic that is more gender neutral) and no use of Y/N in dialogue. Also, this is my first Oz fanfic, and I haven't written smut in a hot minute, so forgive me if it's a bit rusty!

Oscar Diggs.

That isn't his full name of course; all he ever told you was that it was embarrassingly long and unnecessary. Here in the Emerald City though, he is just known as a godlike figurehead deemed The Wizard. The Great and Powerful Oz. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Oz the Great and Terrible. His Supreme Ozness. All that jazz.

You know now he is a farce, a carny drifted the wrong way west, a two-bit con man that you have no business screwing with. But you do not know the extent of his wickedness and besides, he is just too damn good at wooing and making your heart stutter triple its normal rate for you to dig deeper beyond your feelings. He has an inflated ego, sure, but he's fairly quite kind, at least to you.

You first remembered him when you were a small child visiting the traveling carnival at the state fair in Kansas. His warm olive complexion was complimented with a clean-shaven face and a head full of dark hair and he was so, so tall. He still is, but you have a different perspective now. Back then at your low vantage point, he was so up towards the sky that he might as well have been wearing stilts.

He'd crouched down to your level and displayed out a standard deck of playing cards, and exclaimed: "Pick a card, any card!"

You randomly (or thought so) plucked out the Jack of Hearts and he took it back and shuffled the deck with a flurry of motion, then fanned them back out. You didn't see your Jack among them, and you puckered, lower lip jutted out. His eyes went wide at that, and he feigned concern.

"Ohhh, no, where is it? Is it in here?" He dug frantically into the flap of his jacket to no avail, then the bottoms of his tap shoes.

"Hmm, I don't suppose it could've..." He yanked off his top hat to reveal the same card hidden under there.

You'd gasped, equal parts confused and delighted, and he looked relieved at the successful reaction.

"Here, keep it. I have a dozen of these decks. It's something to remember me by and show all your friends." He pressed the colorful illustrated card into your palm with a grin and your eyes had sparkled with wonder and enchantment.

Thinking back on it, you knew he'd probably done that trick with twenty other kids that day, it was just a ploy to make you feel special, like sure he'd picked you out of the crowd to gift that Jack of Hearts to. But that didn't stop you from hanging onto it as a prized keepsake and keeping that card tucked safely in your jewelry box.

Years passed and you grew up, temporarily forgetting about the nice funny carnival man and shoving it to the back of your mind to solely focus on your simple and hardworking life helping your folks manage the acres of farmland and homestead. One late spring day you were out feeding the flock of chickens when you noticed that off in the distance to the west, dark clouds had gathered into an angry mob, a swirling mass of foreboding. You squinted, dropping the sack of feed. That sure didn't look nothing like an ordinary twister...

A vicious wind blew up and you struggled to walk towards the house, your skirt whipping around like a flag in the pummeling gusts. Ma and Pa were in town with the farmhand picking up supplies, so you were all alone and having never been caught out in the middle of a storm that seemed out of the ordinary, you were terrified.

The tornado spun across the fields, churning up the pastures and few buildings and wooden fences in its wicked wake, until it was no more than a football field's length away. There was no time get to the safety of the cellar, there no time to save anything, and with a scream, you bolted into the barn because it was nearest and covered your head as you flattened to the floor. It occurred to you too late that you should've tied or hitched yourself to a post or something...

Within ten frantic beats of your heart, the monster twister was directly overhead, the roaring and gnashing of its raw power nightmarish. Before you knew it, the barn walls around you started to rip and shudder and then the twister had violently sucked you and what was left of the barn straight up into the air and you promptly blacked out, certain this was it.

********

To your immense surprise, when you regained consciousness some time later, you crawled out of the remaining rubble of the barn to have ended up in a strange colorful place where there were joyously curious multitudes of strangers - people that called themselves citizens of Munchkinland. You were certain you had hit your head on the way down and went bonkers, but somehow it was all very real.

After you had recovered from shock and explained your situation, they advised you to head to the imperial capital, named Emerald City, to plead your case to the ruler who resided there, referred to as The Wizard. A kindly older Munchkin couple lent you their horse and a basket of bread with a canteen of water for the journey. For miles you rode through the farmland and north through mountainous regions to what the Munchkins said was Gillikin Country, home to the Great Gillikin Railway. The train station was gleaming and shiny, and the judgmental and disgusted looks from boarding passengers and workers made you feel like a filthy stray dog. You tried your best to ignore them and strode straight up to the conductor taking tickets.

"Excuse me, sir? I need to get to the Emerald City."

He wrinkled his nose and held out a white gloved palm expectantly.

"Oh, but I haven't any money for a ticket; I lost everything from the freak storm that brought me here."

His thick bushy brows had furried together and he sniffed once.

"A storm, you say?"

"Yes, I ain't got a cent. I was told by the Munchkins to go see The Wizard for my troubles."

His eyebrows shot straight up into his high forehead, and he scoffed loudly. You started to turn away, dejected.

"Well, why didn't you say so? It's your lucky day, miss! Come aboard!" the conductor suddenly exclaimed joyfully, ushering you on.

"Only this once though. You'll go straight to Emerald City where our wonderful Wizard can sort you out."

You boarded and found a private seat by the window, instantly falling asleep as soon as the train sped off. You missed out on the wonderous views of rugged thick moody forests and bright fields of crimson poppies and only awoke when the train jolted to a halt. Once let off at the station, you took to exploring the overwhelming oasis that was the Emerald City. You'd never seen a big city before and certainly not one like this...

It wasn't hard to figure out signs of this mysterious Wizard and the most obvious was a huge statue planted in the center of the town square. With a loud gasp, you recognized the figure as the very carnival man you had met as a little girl all those years ago.

After getting directions to the palace from a couple of citizens on the street, you went hurriedly to the entrance, only to run up against the stationed uniformed guards.

"I need to see the Wizard, please," you begged of them.

They'd been extremely skeptical, but after much desperate explaining and exasperation, you were begrudgingly allowed in and warned that if you were told to leave by him, you must obey and that nothing could be done about it.

The stretched-out hallway that was the walk down to where you were supposed to meet this Wizard was ominous and your boots had clacked loudly across the shiny tiled flooring, each step echoing tenfold.

The room itself was enormous and intimidating with bursts of fire and noise almost as bad as the tornado. Somehow, you'd mustered up some gumption to tell off the ghoulish moving mechanical head mouthpiece that you weren't scared off by its overdramatic display and that you weren't going to leave until you saw the voice behind it.

"I know who you are, Mr. Deck of Trick Cards!" you yelled at it and with a great whirring of the machine shutting off, it then clunked silent.

He'd come out from behind the hanging ropey curtain of thick twisted fibers, purely flabbergasted more than angry, and declared in humbled bemusement that no one had ever told him that before. Seeing him in the vivid flesh instead of a dim memory had made you falter. He had aged, yes, but he was actually rather handsome and so well dressed, radiating off quirky charm and charisma. You properly introduced yourself and recounted how you'd recognized him from your memory of that distant festival day.

"I see, but I'm afraid I don't remember you, sorry?" He coughed into his fist while his right shoe tapped restlessly.

Your heart sunk even though it was perfectly logical, and you didn't even know why you expected any remembrance when he never even knew your name, for Pete's sake! You had been just another cute face in the crowd, a country bumpkin kid to play card tricks with at the fair for a minute of his day. He had no reason to selectively recall you at all.

"I figured as much, it's my fault. I guess I'll get going though I haven't a clue on how to get home. But darn it, you know I didn't ask to be swept up by a tornado and plopped into this freakish land! I didn't mean to travel all this way through hot fields and cold mountains and the long railway just to get turned away by a silly man who runs a giant talking head!" You hadn't meant to sound rude and whiny, but you were so tired, hungry (the bread you were given depleted hours ago), dirty, and utterly exhausted. And the hope you had pinned on this one man was extinguished.

The Wizard crossed his arms tight to his chest and his eyes casually roamed up and down your body, perhaps surveying the pathetic condition you were in. If he was offended by your statements, he didn't show it.

"You know, it's funny, I had something somewhat similar happen to me back in Omaha and that's how I ended up here... I made the most of it, though. You came from the great state of Kansas, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

He had smiled at that, perhaps enjoying the way that respectful reply just automatically slipped out from your lips, and then he had waved a hand uselessly behind him.

"I don't know how to send you home. Well, I have a hot air balloon for travel, but it's more strictly emergency purposes and I don't think it would be wise to cause a ruckus and panic the people, so... You know what? How about you, uh, stay the night? You must be so worn out and clearly need a bath."

You winced, knowing you were caked in the unappealing smell of dust, muck, and sweat, but nodded eagerly.

"There's no sense traveling now anyhow, it'll be too dark soon. How about you stay with me for a while, and we'll figure things out, alright?"

You were near tears, yet very grateful, and accepted.

You almost wished you hadn't.

Guards, which were a mix of both normal humans and (bizarrely) blue faced monkeys with wings had come in and dragged you off to a secluded room of the palace where you were scrubbed down and dressed in green pajamas by a small team of maids before being put in a bedroom.

You were stopped at every turn you attempted to leave your room to find an exit and finally they deadbolted it. You spent two nights in confinement with delivered meals before The Wizard had entered and gently explained it was too dangerous to let you leave, that you were safer with him and better off staying with him. At first, you were upset because surely your folks were worried about how you had presumably fallen off the face of an earthly existence, but then you remembered you were definitely an old enough adult to live on your own now and maybe there was nothing left of the homestead anyway if that nasty storm had its way. You didn't miss your work on the farm, nor the pressure your family had been applying to find a young man to marry. You never admitted it out loud, but you had bigger sights than being a simple country girl who let some drunken boyish hick boss you around.

This palace was just so grand compared to anything you'd ever seen in your life, and it was complete with a man you were increasingly infatuated with. It took several weeks of being locked up to come to terms with the realization that you had a raging crush on the man who was playing captor, and you wanted him very badly, but his interactions were limited, and you wondered why the heck he kept you around and alive if all he cared about was hiding his identity.

One night though, he broke down the invisible barrier: as you were knelt down in your room removing your slippers for bed, he grabbed your chin to tip upward and within a matter of two seconds, he kissed you right on the lips before you could make a peep. After a second, you kissed back hungrily without restraint, letting desire overrule fear.

"I'm sorry," you and him both said at the same time when he pulled away.

After that, you shyly admitted your blooming feelings for him and by a stroke of splendid luck, The Wizard reciprocated. He invited you to his private room and you slept with him for the first time. Afterward, he told you a bit about himself, how he really started out just a simple man named Oscar who had become a magician and one day the man in charge because people happened to be so gullible. He was intelligent, inventive, and intoxicating with a dash of cunning.

Of course, you weren't sure if the "love" that he extended was out of pure benevolent generosity or you were merely just a glorified whore, but either way you were happy because you loved him, albeit stupidly. He must genuinely love you back though; what else could all the flowers left on the nightstand and weekly gifts of expensive jewels tucked into tiny ornate boxes with trailing lime green silk ribbons mean? He even gifted you an entire handpicked wardrobe of fine clothing from pressed skirts and beautiful dresses to day-to-day blouses to pajamas and revealing lounge wear, many of which match the colors of Emerald City.

The only downside to this whole odd arrangement was that due to the fact that you already knew too much about him, he'd grounded you to the palace indefinitely. From day one you were not allowed to step even a toe outside the palace walls, you weren't let out to leave the premises even accompanied by guards, and you had to keep to yourself in the designated permitted rooms, of which he had many for a single man. When you asked why he needed the excess of rooms, he chuckled.

"They're for my inventions and all the things I collect. I'm rather sentimental, you see."

"Am I now one of your 'things'?" you asked, to which he had smiled almost impishly.

"You could be, if you want."

********

So it is without resistance that now, many months later, at eight o'clock in the evening (he insists on an earlier bedtime, strictly nine o'clock at the latest) in his grand bedroom, you splay fully naked on your back across the rich emerald green satin sheets like a starfish waiting to be swept away by the power of the tidal force he thinks he is (maybe sometimes he's more of a lukewarm swell but no matter).

The Wizard, or Oscar as he prefers only in private, is a surprisingly fit man for his age with a decent sex drive in bed when he's in the mood, which is at least once a week, but there are dry spells when he's too busy or unhappy. While you spend time reading in the library, he spends hours off somewhere building things and tinkering with models which you've never touched. You sleep in separate bedrooms, but on such nights he's ready for passion however, you're expected to be there and stay the night with him. Enjoying his company isn't hard to do - you've fallen head over heels for the man.

Presently, he's removed his long coat to hang up and is in the process of undressing further, the bits and bobs and chains clinking softly from his vest, when he pauses significantly, humming to himself in the depths of the spacious walk-in closet off to the side.

"What is it?" you ask, perplexed and a smidge annoyed at his distraction. He'd promised - no, ordered - an intimate evening after a long while of leaving too much alone. He's been swamped with work and meetings with other influential folk and plotting and planning that he always keeps quiet and stuffed away from you.

"Do you want a drink, my beauty?" he asks abruptly, turning around and holding a tiny green bottle of his famed elixir that he procured from somewhere.

"What kind of game are you playing at, sir?" you wonder suspiciously, watching candlelight glint playfully off the glass.

"It'll loosen you up, just a sip or two."

"It's just alcohol, isn't it?" You can hear the uncertainty reverberate through your tone and the guilty twitch of his eyebrows doesn't deny anything.

"My very own special blend. Take some," he insists, coming over and pressing the cool bottle into your tender hands.

"Why?"

"It's, uh, for a surprise. I promise it's not poison, by golly."

"Not funny." You narrow your eyes but pop the cork and bring it to your lips to take a quick swig. It goes down smooth like syrup, just not as sweet.

"That's my girl," he praises, and you shiver in delight as he climbs up on the bed, holding his hand out expectantly for the elixir, but you aren't done with it. You drink more, feeling the inexplicable urge to quench your thirst. You finally press the nearly empty bottle back to his hands, swallowing before lying back with a flump onto the plush pillows.

Within two minutes, you feel entirely airy and floaty, like your mind has taken an extension cord out of your body to stick somewhere up on the ceiling.

"This'll 'ad better be gooood..." you slur out.

"I guarantee it will, at least for me." He watches in satisfaction as you doze off to dreamland in a daze, a heavy weight of comfortable numb blackness settling over your bones. The room is bathed in a cozy glow from the candles, and it smells deliciously heady.

********

Not too long later, you stir awake from your short-lived nap and when you roll over to your side, you find you can't. Your back is flush against the satin sheets, arms raised up above your head and pinned to the headboard.

"W-Why am I... all tied up?" you ask groggily, looking down at your spread apart legs and ankles, which are stuck in place to the bedposts by a sturdy soft green rope snaked expertly and securely.

"I thought, uh, we'd try something new here..." Oscar says, seeming hesitant now, as if he's two inches away from regretting playing out this fantasy. Or maybe he's not guilty at all and only perceiving the act of being so (you could never tell with a sleazy con man after all).

You tug uselessly at the bindings, which aren't that uncomfortable; the mossy green rope coils around your wrists and ankles snugly, leaving a bit of room for circulation. The only part that truly bothers you is the restricted mobility and lack of control.

Oscar approaches slowly, as if gauging your reaction and his self-preservation if you should decide to fight back... How exactly, you don't know. Yell at him, cuss him out? Bite him like a lowly animal? Scream until a guard comes in to see if you are being murdered?

You writhe slowly, testing the limitations as he settles down at the foot of the bed, a patient parental expression painting his face, coloring with concern yet intrigue. In the time while you were asleep, he's removed his button down and trousers, leaving just a white undershirt and green boxers that pronounce his male package quite well.

He runs a slow hand up along the length of your left thigh and then alternates to the right, his fingers tracing lines of pleasure into your veins. You automatically whimper and he rigs a sly smile up to one side of his cheek.

"Do you like this?"

"I don't know..." you murmur truthfully. It's not exactly unpleasant, but the loss of control is unsettling.

"Well, I happen to like it. You know, the sight of you like this." He gestures a wide sweeping path across the whole of your body, and you grin sheepishly, chest rising and falling with anticipated breaths.

"You can't squirm from me as much."

"I don't squirm," you protest, raising eyebrows.

"Oh yes, you do. I know you don't mean to."

Before you can react to that, he lunges forward and his hands go to your sides, stroking up around to your breasts, fondling them like priceless treasures. You moan, arousal heating your core even more than before, and he rubs a thumb over the hard buds of your nipples while speaking lowly.

"I thank my lucky stars that you were blown in from that storm, it sure was a lonely handful of years before you stumbled into this place. And to have someone so obedient to all my whims..." he trails off, a hungry glint in his eyes.

He bends down to lick and smooch along your throat, inching upward until he nuzzles the nape of your neck with his nose. His close cropped and trimmed mustache/goatee tickles and scratches at your skin as he leans so close, cupping the opposite side of your face with a firm hand. You whimper as he latches onto your mouth possessively, his tongue hot and heavy in your mouth. He tastes faintly like Oz's finest toothpaste and his aftershave should be sold as a candle. Maybe you can suggest to him to market his own line of merchandise; the people of Emerald City will buy anything with their great ruler's handsome face on it even if the product is utter shit.

You feel your hips trying to buck up, needing more contact than of the oral kind, but he's teasing tonight.

"Just keep making those pretty noises, darling..." he whispers, sucking numerous hickeys.

"Please, Oz..."

He moves his head, hot breath on your earlobe as he mutters the words.

"What is it that you desire?"

You struggle to speak, all senses haywire, and he waits patiently as you breathe erratically.

"You-I, please, I need... Oscar, please! Touch."

"Oh, you want me to touch you there? Now we're getting somewhere, darling."

He backs off to run a hand down the length of your body and two of his solid warm fingers slip down into your entrance and out, a give and take motion he does for a bit just to get you hot and bothered. His fingers toy expertly with your moist clit like one does with levers to machines, pressing up and down, rubbing a swiping warm thumb over the knob... When he curls them internally, you cry out cataclysmically, stomach undulating in peaking waves of pleasure as you squirt on his fingers. He chuckles, keeping his grip on your hips, and without the ropes keeping your limbs in place, you'd be thrashing. It's torture, but in the very best way.

When you calm down enough to gaze at him heavy lidded with blown pupils, he focuses on removing his undergarments, taking the white undershirt off first and throwing it to the floor for a maid to pick up later. Then he gets to the main event, the showstopper. You don't focus long on his erect cock because his fingers get in between your legs again. He dips one in, two, then three to stretch you out and your warm slick folds welcome him back in with relief. He holds his free hand down on your stomach and you orgasm once more, yanking in frustration at the bindings that dig into your skin.

"Easy, easy," he says as if trying to tame a wild mare.

"I want... to touch you!" You've fondled his balls and cock before, but even just throwing your arms around his neck would be better than this look-but-don't-touch load of hooey.

"I know, I know. Hey, I'm doing the work here alright? Just enjoy the ride and you'll thank me later."

He looms over before settling down over you and it's strange not being able to grab him in return, to claw at his back, to wind your legs around his waist and claim him as your own for the evening. This power play dynamic is right up his alley, to make you feel utterly vulnerable and pliable underneath him, and it's only fitting for a man who loves to pull the strings of everything and everyone around him. He prefers being on top in bed, but you're definitely known to ride him cowgirl style a time or two (this is your favorite position).

The head of his cock pushes in at a tasteful pace to bottom out and burrow inside that it feels like up in your stomach - and it's taken practice to get to this point; the first time (and a few times after that) hurt and he couldn't get too far mostly because he was just so big. You wonder dimly if taking elixir and being in a relaxed state of mind affects your ability to take his girth. Either way, he never gets angry on nights he can't go all the way; he finds his climax just as well outside. Tonight, though, he's persistent and when he glances at your face which is not screwed up and wincing, he gradually nods in approval to continue.

Oscar moves slowly in rocking rhythm, gentle and deliberate at first, then faster and rougher, nearly growling in pursuit of his own pleasure. His silver hair falls out of its careful coifed style to hang over his forehead, and he keeps his melted milk chocolate-colored eyes dead set on yours as he fucks, a predator to his prey. He has you right where he wants, you can't move away, and you moan as your walls clench tight around his cock. He holds his stare steady, but his frame is shuddering and it's clear he's close to his pinnacle, the one he's been aiming for since you entered this bedroom.

He has made it no secret he has cravings to be a father, even though you're sure he'd be a somewhat inept, possibly even lousy one due to his measurable amount of selfishness. Not to mention the detail that he's old enough to be your own daddy and you oddly don't have a problem with that... But he knows he mustn't intentionally knock you up (a scandal that would cause if word got out) and it was you who had to sadly school him on this fact of life, having been around enough farm animals all your life to know how babies are easily made and knowing friends who had become mothers at the ripe age of 18 back in high school, and you do not want to be that careless. It's lucky there hasn't been any "mistakes" so far in your bedding with Oscar, but you know he almost can't resist spilling inside.

Instead, he pulls out with difficulty at the very last minute, and hot ropes of gooey cum splatter your stomach and splash against your chest. He groans in ecstasy before heaving, out of breath.

"You okay?" you whisper as his lightly sweating chest rises and falls with exertion. He cracks a lopsided smile, steadying himself by using his arms to brace against the headboard above you.

"Are... Are you kidding? I've never been better. Just - just give a man a minute, will you?" He retracts an arm back and holds up a single finger with a dangerous glance.

"And don't you dare make a joke about my age. I'm as fit as a fiddle, just like when I was thirty."

You nod absently, thinking of him as a younger man. The portraits and statues scattered around are decent, but could never do him justice. He's aged like the finest high-quality wine and the silver hair and sprinkling of wrinkles only enhances his austerity.

"You're incredible, your Ozness."

"Flattery always works best, my dear." He ducks his head down and sloppily kisses you softly on the cheek.

"And you deserve to be untied, don't you?" His hands wind around behind your head and with one quick motion, both your wrists are untied. He does your ankles next in a flash and flimsily bundles the short ropes up to toss onto the bedside table.

He climbs off and helps you up ease up to a seated position. You feel suddenly dizzy and droop forward, your brain rushing with slush, and blood flushes into your cheeks.

"Woah, it's okay." He sucks in a breath, catching you against his chest.

"Spinning," you gasp out and he keeps his arms securely around you for a minute before you wiggle, antsy, and he props you up.

"Still on the Tilt-A-Whirl?" he asks, lines deeply creasing his face.

"I... It's gettin' better." You shake your head as though that will dispel the imbalance that you have a strong hunch is a side or after effect from his mystery elixir, not just the sex.

"Thank goodness. You scared me for a minute there, if this is too much..."

"No! I love you," you blurt out and he comfortingly pets your head, raking fingers through and tousling your hair.

"Alright, sweetheart. And to think in addition I was going to experiment with a blindfold and gag- uh, never mind. Maybe that's too advanced; we'll hold off on that one for the foreseeable future."

You gape at him as he gets off the bed with no further word but a grunt and reaches over for a towel on the bedside table to give to you. You take it to wipe up some of the mess while he leaves momentarily off to the nearby bathing chambers to freshen up.

He comes back five minutes later dressed only in a fresh pair of tight fitting boxers predictably of his favorite color that you have to tear your gaze away from lest you foolishly admit to wanting another go around. He clears his throat at your staring, rubbing his jaw and jerking his chin towards the door.

"You can go clean up now," he says a bit gruffly, pointing.

All of Emerald City is extravagant and even the humble washroom is no exception. The first night he'd fucked you, Oscar had given a tour of it.

"See what money and power can buy? It'd do you good to remember that," he'd said as he ran a hand across the shiny marble tiles and gilded gold faucets.

"I came from humble beginnings just like you and now look at me!" He spread his arms out wide in exaggeration and you giggled, utterly enamored.

"Just don't let it go to your head." He chuckled deeply at the ironic fitting joke.

You shuffle off now to wash and wipe down your body in there, using an dark green washcloth that has his moniker of "OZ" stitched on it, and you feel aching soreness all over your body - but it's a good kind, like a full day's work of physical labor accomplishing what you really needed to do.

********

Once you are done in the washroom, you tug on a plush robe the color of jade and return to the bedroom to go to lay back down on the king size bed next to him. He pulls you in with the crook of his arm, the other holding a different bottle than the elixir. This one smells very much like whiskey.

"I should tell you..." he begins with a pause, clearly not in any hurry as he takes a breath and then a couple sips. You can tell by his slightly unfocused gaze and relaxed body that he is getting a tad drunk.

"We're gonna have a special visitor soon from Shiz University, you know Madame Morrible?"

"Yes." You've seen her come and go around the palace, but aren't advised to get within ten feet of the powerful older woman, let alone speak to her. All you know is that she can do impressive magic (unlike him) and is a very close loyal confidant who provides important insider information.

"Well, she invited a very special student with promising magical abilities here for something I'm working on, and I'll need you get out and to stay out of our hair for a while," he explains causally, playing with the neck of the bottle in his fingers.

"You're casting me out?" you ask, disappointment surging up like a muddy river during a flood. This set-up is only too good to last, isn't it? You're so in love that you've almost forgotten all about home, not that you'd really loved your old life there much anyway. But if you truly can't get home ever again, you'll have to start looking for some kind of work in the city to make meager money and hopefully figure out how to cobble a life together if that's even possible. You'll never find another man to depend on like Oscar, that's obvious. Funny that mere months ago, you had been somewhat distraught at the notion of being held against your will in this unfamiliar palace and world. Now you just feel stupid for letting him lead you into a false sense of security and preying on when you were most desperate.

"No, no, of course not," he replies in a scandalized tone, slicing sharply through your spiraling thoughts.

"I greatly value your, uh, commitment to me and keeping my secrets. You're a very delightful girl who doesn't go snooping for trouble and you try to keep out of my business."

You don't mention that you are technically locked indefinitely in this palace, forbidden to go outside off the grounds, and hadn't really had a choice in the first place. But he appears so sad and frustrated, so you nestle and snuggle further into his side, your hand tracing lazy circles on his chest.

"Perhaps only though for your safety, if the upcoming meeting and arrangement doesn't go well, you might have to leave permanently. But, uh, in that case I'll make sure you get you set up with decent accommodations outside the city. Perhaps Munchkinland, Governor Thropp there owes me a favor..."

"Okay," you murmur quietly even though this prospect partially frightens and worries you, and you feel relief oozing from his bones.

"Thank you for always understanding my dear. You know I have such a responsibility and I need everything to go right when this special young lady comes - Morrible is counting on it and you damn know it you don't want to get on her bad side."

"This student of hers must be something else," you mutter more to yourself than him. How much does she know, anyway?

"She sure fucking is from what I've been told. She'll change everything and put me in a greater position than before if I can get her to work with me. Morrible seems cautiously confident and cheered as well by the prospect, which is a sign to be taken seriously. She can often have a stiff stick up her tight ass, huh?" He laughs, deep and throaty, and you know his guard is down when he swears openly in conversation.

"Right." You're silent for a little while, just letting him hold you and trying not to dwell on the implications of whatever this mystery meeting could hold. You could ask for more information, seeing as to how he could be looser lipped from the effects of the alcohol, but you frankly don't care. The post orgasmic state you're basking in is too all-consuming to break out of (plus you are fatigued), and so you let the less business side mood of tonight seep back into the conversation.

"Hey, I liked this tonight, what we did. I really thought the ropes were, um, creative and even though I was nervous at first, it was actually... pretty hot? Maybe we could do that again sometime, sir?"

He smiles tentatively, the gears of his diabolical mind whirring on another track, and your words clumsily snatch him back to the present.

"That's just what I like to hear, sweetheart. That's what I love best-"

"-making people happy," you finish for him, having that line down pat after overhearing him parrot it as part of his political approach.

"Atta girl," he replies with a smarmy smirk and then a contented sigh, ducking his head and resting his chin on top of your head as you lay on his bare chest, listening to the even drumming of his heartbeats.

The palace is delightfully quiet this time of night, the guards in immediate range having been dismissed for the evening so there would be no eavesdroppers. Light from the waxing moon outside the large glass windows curtained with heavy drapes parted a couple inches beams through weakly down, leaving a six inch pale strip to highlight the heavily polished floor.

Kansas and its cornfields feel like worlds away. This is almost like a dream in of itself, but I know it isn't because every day I wake up and I'm still here, you muse sleepily.

Maybe you're staying with the wrong man, and it will end badly between you two. But honestly at this moment, you are too smitten by this lavish lifestyle you stumbled into, his seemingly sincere ongoing affections, and the raw primal love you extract from his flesh on passionate nights like this to give too much of a hoot about it.

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years ago

Text

Title: Gorefest.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).

Word Count: 1.3k.

TW: Gore, Blood, Major Character Death (Reader Is Fine), Implied Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Prolonged Stalking, and Delusional Behavior.

You found his latest gift on your doorstep.

It was a heart, this time – deflated but otherwise fully intact, blue viens still visible against pink flesh. A small puddle of blood and other gelatinous viscera surrounded it, but you ignored that in favor of wrapping the disembodied organ in your cardigan and unlocking the door to your apartment, too exhausted to fumble with your keys and too worn down to pretend you still thought you could get away from him on your own. His present was dropped into the ever-bubbling vat of crimson slurry you used to boil down his gifts until they’d been reduced to a less incriminating state, your shoes kicked off and left by the door. You didn’t bother turning on any lights. You were home, but you didn’t want to let yourself acknowledge that until he was gone.

You found Gojo in his usual spot; on the floor of your bedroom, his hands still stained red and one of your threadbare sleepshirts crumpled at his side, the dark material stained with something white and awful. That made two articles of clothing ruined, tonight. A few months ago, when the most he ever brought you was a half-beaten bouquet of roses and a list of questions for the strange man whose favorite place in the world seemed to be your living room, you would’ve been tempted to demand that he pay for the damages. You’d learned better than to imply you wanted anything from him, since then.

He was lying on his side, toying with something large and vaguely circular, his grin that of a cat dropping a slaughtered mouse at its owner’s feet. He was surrounded by more of his ‘presents’ – the disembodied organs of whatever poor criminal or curse user he’d taken it upon himself to dissect. You were glad you’d kept the lights off. You could see the outline of small intestine strung along the walls, assorted gore left in carefully considered piles wherever Gojo deemed it necessary. It’d take hours to clean up, after he left. Demanding that he help would only give him the impression that you wanted to spend time with him, and you weren’t going to make that mistake twice.

You moved to speak, but as always, he just had to be the center of attention. It was like he couldn’t imagine a world where you might’ve done anything but focus on him. “Welcome home,” he half-sung, pushing himself up and pulling his oblong, mishappen keepsake into his lap. “Do you want to start with dinner, or should I run you a hot bath? Or, if you want, you could always have a little of me—”

“Shut the fuck up.” And then, pointing in the general direction of your front door, “Get out.”

“So cold, babe. And after I went through all that trouble to set this up.” The coppery stench was starting to get to you. You could only pray the neighbors wouldn’t notice, or that you’d be able to think of a feasible enough excuse by the time they did. “I got hurt for you, too.” He held up a hand, gesturing towards the faintest, shallowest cut on his cheek. “Aren’t you going to dote on me? You know, like you used to – after you found me in that alley and bandaged my wounds. What was the first thing you said to me? That I was too pretty to bleed to death alone?”

You didn’t encourage him with a response, only crossing your arms over your chest and deepening your scowl. “Get out,” you repeated. “I don’t want you here.”

His grin only broadened. “If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you’re trying to get me to leave.” Exasperation bled into your agitated expression, and Gojo let out a bark of a laugh. “Look, I know you like to play shy, but I’d really like it if we could use tonight for us. We could watch a movie, or—”

You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands over your face. “You know what? Fine. If you want to be here so badly, then stay.” You shut your eyes, standing a little taller. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Running off to spend the night with another man? Ah, what a cold-hearted temptress I’ve fallen for.”

“Oh, I’m going to do more than just spend the night with him.” You really should’ve shut your mouth. You should’ve bitten your tongue, swallowed your pride, refused to tell him anything save for the fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer. But, the blood in the air was getting to you and you could still feel the cold flesh of the heart against your palm and you needed to get away, and you needed Gojo to know you were never coming back. “I met someone – a sorcerer. He knows you’ve been stalking me, and he offered to help.” You flashed him a grin, almost as awful as his own. “His name is Nanami, and he’s strong enough to keep me safe from people like you.”

You waited for him to laugh, to say he didn’t believe you, or better yet, to get angry, to feel a fraction of the dread and the rage he’d forced onto you. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell or gloat, you opened your eyes. He was still staring, but his smile was softer, his eyes half-lidded in a way that could only mean something bad. “Oh, baby,” he started, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Whose heart do you think I went through so much trouble to bring you?”

A pebble threatening to slip off of its cliffside; two ends of a torn wire, a hair’s width away from connecting. Whatever he was trying to tell you, you just couldn’t seem to process it. “What?”

“Right. I’m sorry, sweetheart – that’s on me,” Gojo chuckled. “You were always more of a visual learner.”

The object in his lap was taken up and rolled towards you, coming to a teetering stop at your feet, where the residual light from the hall could illuminate it properly. In a daze, you dropped your gaze to it, allowed yourself to recognize blonde hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and glassy brown eyes staring lifelessly back at you. There was a dark bruise on his jawline, paled by blood loss, and the mangled stump that used to be his neck was encircled by ragged flesh, as if it’d been torn from his shoulders. Despite everything, his mouth was closed, lips still pressed into a thin frown. As if he didn’t have time to so much as scream before Gojo got to him.

You must’ve passed out. One second, you were staring down at the disembodied head of your savior, and the next, you were on the floor, lying limp and breathless as Nanami’s blood formed a puddle underneath you. Gojo was already at your side, hauling you up and against his chest. You felt his arms around you, then plush of your mattress against your back. You were aware, distantly, that he was straddling you, that his mouth was pressing into the dip of your shoulder, then the curve of your throat. “It’s alright,” he muttered, his voice partially muttered by his closeness. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while, after this? I’ve got a room ready for you back at my place and everything.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Straightening his back, he let his lips crash into yours – his kiss lingering and deep and filthy. By the time he pulled away, he’d drunk the air from your lungs and frozen the blood in your veins, leaving you as empty and as lifeless as one of his gifts.

You thought, idly, of the heart being reduced to viscera in your kitchen, and wondered if you should’ve held onto it for just a few minutes longer.

“I’ll be able to spoil you properly, once I’ve got you where you’re supposed to be.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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reyesstrand · 3 months ago

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I wish you would write a fic where they remedy the 'he fell asleep during sexi-time' situation

(so. reading this back i’ve realized something possessed me and this is probably not what you were hoping for anon 😭 but once the idea got in my head i just ran with it. sorry!!)

“So, how are we doing today?”

It feels like a reprise of their first session. It’s raining, today, and the gentle tap tap tap of it against the windows feels like a comforting embrace. Not just for the serenity, but because things have been good, recently. The pit of hope that they can make it through anything has only bloomed inside him since they first saw Dr. Spencer, and it keeps him afloat as he leans to the side so he can keep holding Carlos’ hand.

The first few questions are geared toward Carlos, as Dr. Spencer—Helen, she keeps reminding them—asks him about his work; about any changes he might have made recently after previous revelations about grief and finding answers at the bottom of a case file. It still takes a few moments for Carlos to put his thoughts together, to be vulnerable, but he reflects on all that’s changed in the past two weeks as TK gets lost in staring at his husband.

He crosses one leg over the other and feels at peace, as he reminisces on this morning’s brunch at a new place uptown, where they ate on a colourful patio and shared chilaquiles while sipping on iced lattes. TK absentmindedly plays with his wedding ring, twisting it around his finger with his thumb, as he takes in the way Carlos looks younger, now that he’s here in this office out of uniform.

He still grapples with a weight too big to name, visible in the slight hunch of his shoulders and his need, today, for his glasses, but he looks beautiful just the same—curls not tamed by any gel, his arms bursting in his maroon t-shirt.

“You look like you agree, TK,” Helen says, snapping him from his reverie. Carlos had been talking about how there’s still work to do, but they’re good, again. More like how they used to be.

“I do,” TK nods, squeezing back when Carlos grips his fingers tight. “It started on the night of our anniversary, actually.”

“Tell me about it,” Helen encourages, pen poised above her notepad but her warm gaze focused on them both.

“We just…connected, again,” TK starts, gazing over at his husband to find Carlos already looking at him.

That night is something rich in vivid colour to him, a treasured keepsake that he cradles in the space between his ribs and his heart. He remembers his pulse jackrabbiting when Carlos looked imploringly at him; when Carlos spoke the words TK’s always believed to be true, that every moment they share is a gift.

TK also remembers the kiss. The moan he fed into his husband’s mouth when Carlos’ hand gripped the back of his neck and pivoted them so TK was pressed against the dining table; the shivers that traveled up his spine when Carlos’ knee pushed between his legs.

“You had a long day,” TK gasps, as Carlos bites down on the hinge of his jaw. “You’re sure you’re—”

“Baby, I’m sure,” Carlos tells him, lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. He steps away, then, and walks toward their bedroom. With a crook of his finger, Carlos’ voice sounds wrecked as he half-pleads, half-commands, “Come here.”

TK can still feel the weight of his husband: on his body, against his thighs, on his tongue. TK looks at Carlos again, and feels a dimple carve into his cheek as he shrugs one shoulder and tells Helen: “He didn’t fall asleep on me this time.”

Carlos rolls his eyes playfully, but strokes his thumb over TK’s knuckles. “Never living that one down, huh, babe.”

TK grins, and wants to sit in the familiarity of their teasing longer, but something more prods at his brain.

“We aren’t—I don’t think we can be what we once were, exactly,” TK admits, looking now at the patterned carpet under their feet. “But we aren’t the same people we were before my mom died. We aren’t the same people we were before we lost our first place together. And I think this path we’re on…I think it’ll take time, but, we’ll be better. We always make it through.”

Carlos gives him a watery smile, and presses a kiss to the back of TK’s hand. “Always.”

(i wish you would write a fic where…game!)

#answered #tarlos #my fic #wish you would write fic

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l-egionaire · 4 months ago

Text

After getting into Epic The Musical, hearing the songs and seeing the Warrior Penelope AU, I can't help picturing this; Main universe Odysseus meeting a version of Warrior!Penelope.

Maybe it's just after Odysseus escapes Calypso's island. He lands on another one just for a few minutes to grab food from the trees when he hears a rustle in the woods. He withdraws his sword and a figure in a sheepskin cloak, armor, and a helmet emerges bearing a pair of twin labrys. The two prepare to clash, but then she sees his face.

"....Odysseus?"

His voice makes her freeze. She slowly removes her helmet, and his eyes fill with a mix of shock, trepidation and the slightest bit of longing.

"Penelope....?"

Both just stare at each other like ghosts. This woman looked so much like his wife yet so different. Her face had a number of scars hers never did. Her arms were strong and muscular, bearing their own marks. She was much older, though some part of him couldn't help thinking she was no less beautiful.

Quickly, he thinks this must be some kind of trick. Yet another cruel joke played by the fates. Perhaps some Siren of the land, another monster wearing his wife's face and voice.

And then, with shaking hands, she withdraws a bow. Not just any bow, HIS bow, Palontonos, looking just as pristine as the last time he'd seen it, twenty years ago.

His breathe goes heavy and his eyes start to flow with tears.

"Penelope....

"Odysseus...."

They both tightly hug each other, somehow knowing they weren't QUITE the lover they'd lost, but something close enough to soothing their fractured hearts.

Over a meal of roasted wild boar and fruit, the two talk about their lives. How they were so similar and yet so different.

The Penelope that both was and wasn't his told him of her life growing up in Sparta. Training as a warrior, learning to judge both might and wisdom and attracting the attention of Ares. How she'd taken the position as leader of the army that would march on Troy as she begged him not to go, reasoning Ithaca would need it's king there not risking dying in war and he'd allowed her to go, taking his bow along as a keepsake of home. Her voice chokes up when she speaks of having to kill the son of Hector and he hugs her again, giving them both a chance to share their guilt.

She then speaks of her own journey. How she and her crew had landed on the isle of the Cyclops. How with their help, she'd slain the monster once he'd killed some of her crew....and then went on to slay the Lotus-Eaters for putting them in such danger, unknowingly getting the attention of another god: Dionysius.

The wine god, furious with her for slaying his followers, struck her with madness. Tears fell from her eyes in a flood as she described being overcome with visions of a massive army of monsters on the beach, one by one, slaying them all...until she had come to and realized that the ones she had slayed had been her own crewmen.

She spent many despondent weeks trying to sail home, haunted now by nightmares and the screams of her fellow soldiers. Unfortunately, her troubles were far from over. As with no crew or navigator, she veered off course and sailed for days on ebd, eventually runnibg out of food. She landed on an island bursting with red cows and immediatly hunted one down, before being horrified to see the golden ichor that spilled from their veins. As she fled for her ship in fear, a bolt of thunder hit the ground. And she was once again met with the king of the gods.

The thunder god inflicted on her two punishments. The first.....she gripped the front of her chest, and he could see her throat tighten, it being too horrible to say. But she choked out that the second was to have the god of winds conjured a terrible storm that whipped her around and blew her far off course....all the way to the land of the giants.

With shaky words, she spoke of how the beasts smashed her boat to pieces with rocks and she spent more years than she could count, scrounging on their scraps like a rat, avoiding being eaten, struggling to fight and survive. Until one day, the goddess of the hunt appeared before her. The lady of the wild offered her aid, giving her a quiver of gorgeous silver arrows that never ran out, telling her to slay the monsters keeping her prisoner by becoming a monster in turn. And thus, the hunted became the huntress. She slew each and every giant she could find with her husband's bow and the huntress gods arrows. And once she was done, and had made a small craft, Artemis instructed her to follow her brother the sun and she would find her way home.

Odysseus saw the pain and fear and loss in her eyes. And without thinking his own story came out. The cyclops, his break with Athena, Aeolus, Poseidon, Circe, The Underworld, the sirens, Scylla, Zeus, Calypso (this time HIS throat tightened just as hers did talking about it and he could see the recognition of his pain on her face.), Hermes, and how was also on his own journey home.

They spent the rest of their time holding each other (that's all they would do, for they knew while they looked similar, they weren't the ones they loved) and then they both departed, Penelope after the sun and Odysseus towards the north star.

Neither quite knew why this meeting happened. A gift, cruelty of the gods, a mere freak chance, but both still took a moment to get small smiles, knowing they'd met the one other person who could understand their pain.

#epic the musical #epic odysseus #epic ithaca saga #epic vengeance saga #epic penelope #warrior penelope au #the oddyssey #Epic #Dionysus #vengeance saga #ithaca saga

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letmedixonyou · 3 months ago

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i'm not yours - part 5

summary: Daryl and you are (were?) friends. He's dating Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?

words: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use, swearing, mentions of drugs

A/N: Hi, darlings! Here another part of the series. I'm still not sure how long this whole thing is going to be, but I already have another idea for a longer story. My brain is working overtime these days! It was proofread by my English boyfriend, so I trust there aren’t any major errors.

The drive was long, painfully hot and quiet, but you finally reached Alexandria's gates. All this time you were thinking about Daryl, the image of his foot stomping on one thing you really wanted. That 80s music cassette could've been such a gem in this stupid world. You couldn't remember the last time you've heard good music, other than some weird 60s psychedelic shit that was surely listened to during LSD trips. For once, you wanted to listen to something you knew you'd enjoy. And he knew that too. He knew you like no one else. You couldn't help but think that he did that on purpose, to sort of get back at you for destroying your friendship.

Back when you were friends, he'd never told you no. He'd always allow you to get giddy and excited about things, like that one time when you found a pink Nintendo DS console with somehow preserved 20% of battery. Your eyes shimmered when you looked at it, and then you turned it on and the screen came to life, a familiar sound played and you let out a squeak, making Daryl chuckle. He made a comment about you being a nerd, and you admitted it proudly. You played some games on it until the battery gave out and then kept it as a keepsake. To this day, the console had an honourable place on your nightstand, making you smile each time you look at it.

Or that one time when you both went on a supply run to town and you saw a shop with clothing you never could afford before zombie outbreak, so you made Daryl go with you and watch you try on dresses, coats and fancy trousers. He was sitting there on the footstool, watching you having fun. You knew this wasn't his thing at all, but yet he spent next two hours just watching you and making comments about how fancy professional, but stupid you looked. You kept a huge fur coat, apparently worth $4000, now free for anybody who wanted it. And you wanted it. Daryl rolled his eyes when you decided to wear the coat all the way back to Alexandria, but never stopped you. You believed he secretly enjoyed how silly it was.

Of course, he wouldn't come back with you in the car - the silence between you would be too much to bear for him and frankly, you were quite glad that he chose to walk. You were fed up with arguing, fighting over nothing, constantly being reminded about the "I love you" you shouted to him a while back. Every time you thought about it, you beat yourself up for ever making the rude comments, escalating the situation instead of calming it. You beat yourself up for ever saying the three words, for ever admitting your feelings, and it was heartbreaking for you to think that your friendship was gone.

Getting out of the truck, the ground crunched under your feet. You wiped some sweat off your forehead and and looked around. A few people looked at you, puzzled by the question of "where the hell is Daryl", especially Carol, who was walking towards you with concerned look on her face.

"Hey," she says, standing in front of you, crossing her arms on her chest. "You okay?"

"Hi," you say and smile gently to her, rubbing your forearm lightly. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Where is Daryl?"

There it is. The question. Of course, everyone was concerned that Daryl wasn't with you. He was a valued member of the group and people have grown fond of him over the years they've spent together. God forbid, something would happen to him. You admit, it was most definitely weird that you and Daryl weren't coming back together, so you could understand why people are so worried about him.

"He chose to walk back," you look away from Carol, feeling some type of embarrassment creeping up on your cheeks. You weren't exactly sure why you felt this way. "We argued. He walked away. Left keys in the truck, so I could come back."

"He chose to walk back?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "You argued? About what? You two never argue."

That would've been right a few weeks ago, before you confessed your love, before he got weirded out. You and Daryl were great friends, almost attached to hip. Always together, always joking around. You never argued when you two were still friends. To some people it was quite weird that you didn't argue, but for you two it was natural. There was just never anything you'd think to argue about. But now? Now, you are sure that the friendship was never going to go back to normal.

"It's a long story, Carol," you say, scratching the top of your head. "And frankly, I don't think I want to go into details with it."

"Alright."

Carol stayed for a minute more, looking you up and down, concern never leaving her face. She must've seen how exhausted and unwilling to talk you were, because she smiled and left, asking no more questions. You watched her figure disappear into her house, the yellow doors of it reflecting the shine of the sun so harshly it made your eyes hurt.

You walked down the street, trying to use the buildings' shadows to your advantage, to hide yourself and get cooler. You couldn't help to think about Daryl and hope that he is staying out of the sun too, and staying hydrated enough. You knew it was silly to worry about him - he's always reasonable, knows how to take care of himself as he did so since he was a kid. Yet, a part of you almost seeks it out. That worry. That anxiety if he is okay. Maybe it was because your feelings for him. Maybe it was simply because he is... was your best friend and you wanted him to be safe. You felt like you will always worry about him in some way, even when you are not friends. You wanted to. Because you cared.

As you walk into your house, the walls provide you with a cool air, hugging your body tightly. You sigh deeply at the sensation and you walk straight into the bathroom. Taking your clothes off, you see yourself in the mirror. All the scars on your body, all the scratches, old and new, were glistening with sweat. You looked at your tattoo - a small detail that no one knew about, not even Daryl. The tattoo was a medium size, black and white Medusa head, gracefully wrapping around the contours of the ribcage. It symbolises transformation and power for you.

You haven’t had the best childhood, and you were raised in a household where emotions were not discussed in a calm manner. It was always a fight, always verbal abuse towards your mother that ended with a door slam from your father, and was never actually resolved or talked about again. Your parents always went to the usual selves a couple days later, bottling up whatever was bothering them. You've heard your mum cry many times because of the fights. You even heard her talking to her friend on the phone about getting a divorce, but it never actually happened. Your guess was she was too scared to actually leave your father.

Getting out of your childhood house was one of the things you dreamt about since you were a child. When you turned 18, instead of going to parties, getting drunk or doing your driving license, you got a job and moved out, marking your body with a tattoo symbolising the moment your life changed.

Hopping into the shower, you wash away all the sweat and grime from the day, desperate trying to wash away your feelings too. You thought about how the situation you are in with Daryl could've been avoided if you just kept your mouth shut. But then... you'll always be living in the shadows of Daryl's relationship. Shadows of Leah. Is that what I want, you asked yourself internally and you knew the answer is no. Sooner or later, Daryl would've found out about it. Sooner or later you would've told him and the same thing would happen. Somehow, even if it meant losing him, you were glad it was sooner rather than later. At least, you're not bottling up the feelings and emotions, just like your parents did.

Another couple weeks pass by and situation between you and Daryl hasn't changed. He's avoiding you like fire, keeping his distance everywhere. You stopped going on supply runs altogether, after speaking with Rick and telling him you don't want to work with Daryl anymore. Rick was shocked and, of course, asked questions, but you kept it short and sweet of an answer and explained you needed a break. He wasn't convinced, maybe it was the look on your face, finally letting you off.

One evening, you decided to open a few bottles of alcohol you stashed in your house. You kept them for special occasions, but you felt like this was an emergency and you just wanted to numb yourself for a little while. Sitting on the porch of your house, you kept sipping on some whiskey straight from the bottle, your mind wandering. You thought about your family, your friends, people you've lost since the zombies became reality. You thought about Daryl, what he was up to, what he was doing. Was he thinking about you too?

The sun was setting on the horizon. Everything looked so beautiful in the orangey hue. The trees were still, and the air was stuffy again, although it smelled like wet ground - a tell-tale of rain. A whole street was calm and quiet - an advantage of choosing to live in the corner of the settlement, next to an old couple, away from the places people would usually go to.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps and you turn your head towards it, hoping it would be Daryl, but the blonde hair in a pony tail and an all black outfit came to focus. Leah.

She stood there, smiling at you gently. You felt awkward and super conscious about the fact you were in love with her boyfriend, so you looked down at your drink as quickly as you looked at her.

"Hi," she says softly, sitting next to you on the steps. Her politeness and kindness was almost bugging you.

She was always quite nice to you and others. Maybe that was why people actually disliked her - it was coming off as ingenuine. The first time she came to Alexandria with Daryl, she was so sweet it almost made your teeth hurt. She spoke softly, all the time, like there was nothing that bothers her, like her zen was always in check. Daryl didn't seem to mind her overly sweet voice and attitude of a little girl who didn't know what to do with themselves. In fact, he seemed to like it which made you cringe. Maybe it was because he was a natural protector. A person that always keeps people safe and when he met Leah, all alone in the woods, his instincts kicked in and he needed to protect her. Or maybe it was because she was not shy in showing that she was interested in him, making eyes at him and laughing at his jokes, even when they were bad ones.

You grumble in response, nodding once to acknowledge Leah. There was a pause, a super uncomfortable silence between you two, before she opened her mouth again.

"You shouldn't drink that much, you know? It's not healthy."

"Okay, Leah," you say dismissively, taking another swig out of the bottle. Leah was the last person you'd listen to when it comes to advice. Or anything, really.

Another long pause happens, and you keep looking at the sunset, trying to avoid her burning gaze. You could tell she was scanning you, like she was trying to figure you out. You didn't care much about how she looked at you. You disliked her and her opinion about you didn't matter.

Leah sighs and clasps her hands on her knee.

"Why did you stop going on supply runs with Daryl?" she asks straightforwardly, and you finally turn your head towards her, tilting it to the side.

Your eyebrows turn upwards. You were trying to assess if she's serious or not. It's been a few weeks since the decision of stopping supply runs with Daryl, so you were sure she was joking, maybe mocking you or something. Your eyes meet and you can see concern on her face. Her lips press together, waiting for your answer. She was nervously tapping her foot on the ground.

"I was just wondering that's all. Did something happen?" she pressed even more. It was starting to get on your nerves a little, but you kept your mouth shut. Sipping on the amber liquid, you leaned against the baluster of the stairs.

The sun was barely visible anymore, the evening has gotten more dark. You could hear cicadas in the grass somewhere, and the slight buzzing of the electricity from the solar panels nearby. If it wasn't for Leah's presence next to you, the evening would've been perfect - full of drunken thoughts about Daryl, blurry vision and calm air.

"Daryl has been really absent lately," she says, shrugging her shoulders. She kept looking at the setting sun as well. "I guess I wanted to know why."

"Me and Daryl aren't friends anymore," you finally say in a low voice, almost like you didn't want to say those words out loud. You feel alcohol drifting around in your veins, so you try to steady your mind to make sure you don't just babble anything inappropriate to her.

"What?" Leah turns her gaze towards you, clearly confused, scowling hard and then turning her eyes towards the ground in front of her. "Why not?"

Again, you glance at her, making sure she was serious. And yet again, all you see is just concern and sincerity in her eyes. She looked genuinely shocked at he information you provided her with, like she actually had no idea what's been happening. Her whole body leaned towards you a little, waiting for any answer from you. But before you can answer her, she speaks up again.

"Daryl doesn't really share things like that with me," her voice almost a whisper, as she's rubbing her arm, either from coolness of the air or just a pure awkwardness of the situation. "I wouldn't have known if you two were not friends anymore. He's quite a mystery, isn't he?"

You swallow hard, the realisation of what she said hitting you like a ton of bricks. Leah was his girlfriend, the person who he should confide in, should talk to about things, especially about things like arguing with his best friend to the point of never speaking to them again. He should be speaking about his fears, dreams and future with her, right? Like couples do?

She doesn't know?

You couldn't help but wonder what else did he conceal from her? Does she know about his past? About his childhood, about Merle? Does she know how he got the scars on his back? Does she know anything about his past, anything at all?

You kept looking at her, completely dumbfounded, not knowing what to say or do. You take another swig out of the bottle, assessing the situation. What can you say? It's not exactly something you should speak about with Daryl's girlfriend. "I'm in love with your boyfriend and he didn't like that, so we aren't friends anymore" or "You boyfriend hates me because I confessed my love for him". You felt like it wasn't your place, wasn't something that you should announce to her. It should've been Daryl who bitches about it to her, not you.

You open your mouth, but the words don't come out. They get stuck in your throat, and you bite your lip, desperately trying to find anything to say, anything at all. Leah looks at you, clearly frustrated with something. Well, probably you. Or Daryl. Or both. She doesn't wait for your answer. Instead, she scoffs, gets up and walks off, leaving you on half-drunk on the stairs of your house, with even more to think about.

PART 6

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #twd daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon story #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl dixon

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autumnmobile12 · 6 months ago

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My Hero Headcanon: Rei

When I think of Rei’s childhood, I think of Yuki from Wolf Children.

Just not at all being the lady her parents probably wanted her to be and living her best life collecting bugs, feathers, and small animal bones.

And just like Toga, those interests were suppressed because they ‘weren’t appropriate for little girls,’ and she was made to conform.

I mean, look at her expression and tell me she wasn’t told to sit still and be quiet too many times when she was a child.

I think she was a weird kid.

And that's why I play with the snowboarding theme when I do fanworks involving Rei, as well as the idea that Touya’s inability to sit still when he's agitated/excited comes from Rei. It's also why I have the headcanon there was never a point where Rei and Endeavor loved each other. They already have two extremely different personalities in canon, and the high-energy headcanon just highlights a further personality difference.

I’ve already gone into it in more detail with an Endeavor analysis that I made, but here’s an excerpt that illustrates my point:

...what I think shows here is they weren’t really talking all that much. Specifically, he is not ‘talking down to her.’ He is not treating her with any particular disrespect or putting her down as inferior. He doesn’t have the arrogance he later exhibits. This also isn’t him being aloof and ignoring her either. Look at his face, specifically his eyes. That is the same blank, deer in the headlights, “I have one brain cell dinging around in my head that is struggling to find a way to interact with people,” stare he shares with Shouto.

He has no idea what to say to her.

So finally, Rei turns off to the side to admire the garden, and he asks, “Do you like the flowers?” It’s a small thing, but it does show that in some capacity, he did show some interest in Rei and making her happy. He’s just stupidly awkward about it at this point. (Even if his ultimate goal was…well, we’ll get into that.)

...

The long and short of it is if you remove the violence/temper aspect of Endeavor's character, you basically have Shouto: An awkward dork who doesn’t entirely know how to interact with people and he probably doesn’t understand sarcasm or euphemisms either. The main reason we can’t see that side of Endeavor’s character very well is because he’s weaponized intimidation/violence to cover it up. (Dammit, dude, this it not how you patch a character flaw.) So I don’t think Shouto’s isolation and childhood training caused his social ineptitude so much as exacerbated a character trait that was already there. He got it from Dad.

So referring to the earlier pre-kids part of Rei and Endeavor's relationship before the violence actually started, imagine the awkward personality-type paired with a partner who is, by all accounts, weird and has too much energy to be contained. Arranged marriage aside, I like the idea that Rei reverted back to her odd personality after she left her parents’ house. I like to think she danced in the kitchen when there was no one home, hoarded feathers and skulls and other odd keepsakes, and looked for places where she could snowboard. She was a housewife by herself for long periods of time, so who was going to stop her?

There is a short story I absolutely love called Ink, Water, Milk by Catherynne M. Valente. The plot's not relevant to this post, but there is a scene where a bored housewife buys a bunch of those cube-shaped watermelons and just stacks them in her fridge to admire them.

And for some reason, I can picture Rei doing this.

Like Endeavor just comes home to find her sitting cross-legged in front of the open fridge and smiling happily at the nine cubed watermelons stacked neatly inside. (Keep in mind, these things average $100-$200 a piece and are inedible/decorative.) No explanation for why she's done this, she just has a big, ecstatic smile on her face and pointing into the fridge. You know, Touya energy when he's a kid and excited about something. And Endeavor, in true Shouto fashion, is baffled by what she’s done, has no idea why she’s done it, and wondering if there’s a joke he’s not understanding.

I like to mirror this behavior in Touya and Shouto when I can in writing for Ambush Simulation. Underneath the trauma, they are at their core the brother with their mother’s high energy and the brother who is socially awkward and doesn’t quite know how to deal with the unhinged behavior but doing his best.

...

Edit because I just found this gif.

Young Rei:

#my hero academia #rei todoroki #dabi #touya todoroki #shouto todoroki #endeavor #enji todoroki #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #headcanon #watermelon #rei himura #rei young #tw flashing

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lililasagna · 1 year ago

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some disjointed thoughts about Nemesis and Melinoë (and Hecate and mommy issues)

I’ve been having lots of thoughts about the dynamic between Nemesis and Melinoë, and by extension both of their dynamics with Hecate. Hades 2 technical test spoilers to follow, obviously

First let’s talk about Hecate and Melinoë. Hecate raised Melinoë! She cares about her! But their relationship is not healthy by any means. Hecate is the only parent Melinoë has ever known, but out of loyality to Persephone she refuses to be Melinoë’s mother, and very harshly pushes back on the idea when Melinoë even suggests that she views Hecate in a maternal way. (Notice the difference to how Nyx treats Zagreus, and says he will always be her child.) Hecate raised Melinoë in a very militaristic way, for the obvious reason that they are at war, but isn’t it kind of nuts how even when playing hide and seek with very small child Melinoë, she frames their playtime in the context of hunting and killing titans? Enter Melinoë’s desperate need for approval. Yeah, it’s cruel when Nemesis says that killing Chronos “isn’t personal enough” for Mel. Unfortunately, she is right. Throughout the techtest, Melinoë continuously questions herself and other characters on how to keep up the motivation to save a family she has never known. She struggles deeply with this. My impression is that at this point, she is fighting To Make Hecate Happy. She is constantly vying for (and getting!) her teacher’s approval. She doesn’t question Hecate almost ever, and that’s in fact Bad for Melinoë. Melinoë needs to kill Chronos for Herself, and she’s simply not there yet.

Now, I noticed two things that made my alarm bells ring in regards to Melinoë, Nemesis and Hecate. Nemesis very clearly cares about Melinoë, even her digs at Melinoë are poorly disguised concern for her. She’s worried about Melinoë being sent out on her own by Hecate, she thinks Melinoë is a pushover to Hecate (she’s right), and she lets Melinoë call her “Nem”, even when they are fighting, without a comment. Meanwhile Hecate Hates Nemesis. She cannot deal with Nemesis questioning her judgement and expects complete obedience from her because of a pact she made with Nyx, while at the same time wishing she hadn’t made the pact because she cannot stand Nemesis to the point of wanting to throw her out of the encampment completely. Now this sucks for Nemesis of course, but what concerns me More, is how Hecate speaks to Melinoë about Nemesis.

Hecate actively discourages Melinoë from even cordially talking to Nemesis, to the point of acting disgusted when Melinoë uses her keepsake. Odysseus asks Melinoë to “smooth things over” between Nemesis and Hecate, implying Melinoë has in the past had to go between them. Hecate doesn’t respect Nemesis as a person, because Nemesis doesn’t respect her as an authority (nemesis still obeys Hecate, just not in a way Hecate likes)

I’ll write up these thoughts in more detail at some point but for now I want to leave you with this thought that made me sad: Characters constantly tell Melinoë she looks just like her mother and express pity and concern for her. Have you seen Nemesis? Do you think anyone has told Her how she looks like her mother? Of course Nemesis needs to keep reiterating her stakes in this struggle, because Hecate sure isn’t acknowledging them.

#not touching on how nemesis doesn’t think she deserves happiness #saving that for another day for now #hades 2 #hades ii #nemesis #Hecate #melinoe #melinoë #hades nemesis #hades hecate #hades melinoe #hades meta #hades 2 meta #melnem

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kumkaniudaku · 4 months ago

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Picture Day

Summary: You and Yahya prepare for a special keepsake and new holiday memories.

Pairing: Yahya Abdul Mateen II x Black!Reader

Word Count: 3,159

Warnings: None.

Previous: NEIGHBOR’S MASTERLIST

A/N: This one is for @ghostfacekill-monger. If you're new to these characters, I'll shamelessly plug the series above. Enjoy.

If the Abdul-Mateen family was nothing else, they were a collection of Black folks with big personalities and a flair for the dramatic. Everything from how Yolanda and Senior's home was lit up with carefully placed string lights to the interior decor that Yolanda poured her heart and soul into for no other reason than to see how her grandchildren's eyes lit up when they stepped into her home. And to make their neighbors across the street, the Walters, seethe in jealousy when they step outside their home to see such an extravagant display of taste and wealth. But that was a different conversation to have over aged Cabernet after photos for the annual holiday card were wrapped and the ladies were left to their own devices while the men did whatever it was they did in Senior's parlor.

Upstairs, as bodies whizzed from room to room to meet their strict 12:30 pm call time, Yahya chased a giggling toddler version of himself down the hallway before extending his long arms to pull the little one into the air just before he could reach the stairs for the third time that half-hour.

"Damn, boy," he panted before wincing at the ache in his back as he stood up straight. "Remind me to tell your mama you need to run track in a few years. You got your daddy's speed."

Yahya, half-dressed and already sweating from the stuffy sweater and playing wrangler for his rambunctious mini-me, looked down at his son's feet and noticed that he'd forgotten to add the one part of his outfit that would keep him from moving so fast. He'd learned to toddle but hadn't quite grasped the concept of doing so in footwear.

He set off to consult the one person with supreme knowledge and authority in their shared household across town.

In a junior suite on the first floor, he listened to you hum along to Gucci Mane's Christmas album at the bedroom's threshold, out of breath and at his wit's end. He knocked twice before speaking.

"Baby, where are Nasir's shoes?"

"Next to his sweater."

"Got it," Yahya answered, eyes still blank as if you had never given him an answer. He started to walk out but doubled back. "And if I were looking for his sweater, where would that be?"

Holding a breastfeeding baby in one arm and pressing brightening concealer under tired eyes was your primary task that your man promised he wouldn't interrupt. But his oldest son was an adventurous, hard-to-wrangle rascal with all his features and a knack for wearing out even the most seasoned professional.

Peeling your eyes from your vanity mirror, you looked over at him and his worried expression to offer a bit of reassurance. "I left it on the ottoman in the sitting room so he'll be distracted during his screentime."

When it came to your boys, every detail was tediously planned from sunup to sundown. Yahya still hadn't convinced you to make schedules for any other aspect of life like grocery shopping or tax paying, but motherhood was different. Motherhood was sacred and beautiful, and everything else you didn't expect when that pregnancy test came up positive not once but twice in three years of partnership.

Yahya smiled at your thoughtfulness before answering. "Thank you, baby. I promise to leave you alone now."

"You're okay. That's why we work together. Come here." Yahya added a little spring to his step as he closed the short distance between you two, stopping just short for a silly little two-step before bending forward to meet your lips for a few quick pecks and leaving a couple for Tariq's forehead as he suckled from your breast. Your hand lingered on his cheek while you spoke. "You're a good man, Savannah. A good man."

"What's crazy is that nigga was not a good man," he laughed.

"Okay, but why did you ruin the moment?"

Yahya lifted his hands in surrender. "My fault, baby. Gas me up."

Affirmations of his worthiness as a husband and father murmured between quick kisses made Nasir giggle until both of you turned your attention to showering him in praise, too. He'd learned a few new words as the year ended. All of them expletives or some form of your shared pet names, but new words nonetheless.

While the cute family moment pulled you away from getting ready, Amir walked past the room and doubled back to stop the lollygagging at his mother's behest. He wore the mantle of enforcer with pride.

"Aye, man, y'all ain't ever heard of a call time? Don't have my mama looking for y'all. You know her sciatica actin' up."

"Her what?"

"Don't make me repeat it. You know I got a heavy tongue." You tried but failed to contain your laughter, pulling Yahya in to join as he stood to readjust Nas on his hip. Amir feigned his offense with a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, so y'all are ableists? This is crazy."

"No, you're just an idiot. I knew they adopted you," Yahya answered back, the taunting tone of a younger sibling thick in his voice and a childish grin to match.

Amir scoffed and looked in your direction. "You see what happens when a nigga gets back cool with his daddy? He start actin' entitled and whatnot. Should've never allowed y'all to reconcile. I miss emotionally charged Christmas."

Yahya's jaw hung slack while you tucked both lips into your mouth to conceal the unruly laugh deep within your soul. It didn't matter how long you were part of their family; the jokes at the other's expense would never cease to amaze you. No one could eviscerate the Abdul-Mateen clan like the members within their close-knit circle.

Though impressed with his older brother's quick wit, Yahya couldn't allow the annoyance in his expression to falter for even a moment. He pretended to laugh as he geared up for a retort that didn't quite come close to the earlier jab but fulfilled his need to feel victorious.

"That's why Hassan is getting the house in the will."

"You thought you did something. I knew that already. You just now gettin' into those rooms, my boy."

Thwarted again. Yahya looked to you for backup while you carefully helped Tariq end his feeding session and returned your breast to its rightful home. "Amir, if you keep talking to my man like that, we gon' have an issue. You know what happened last time."

"My fault, OG," he answered, tapping the space over his heart to signal his allegiance as memories of the night a few too many postpartum cocktails had you reliving the early days of your relationship with the family. "Y'all got it. I don't want no problems. You a good man, Savannah."

"That's what I said!"

A half-decade of family dinners, vacations, and game nights creating inside jokes and sharing funnies between kindred spirits was bound to result in some personality transfer. Still, Yahya could never, in a million years, predict that you and Amir would become two hosts for nearly the same brain.

Yahya looked between the both of you, confused and amused at the sheer absurdity of the unlikely moment of deja vu. "I never should've introduced y'all. Now I'm married to Amir: The Sequel."

"Oh, please," you scoffed as you turned back to the mirror. "I am way too fine to claim that position. No offense, Amir."

"I'm not gon' act like there's none taken. That hurt. Thought we were better than that, Tootie. At least I still got my nephews on my side."

"You do not," Yahya answered, playfully shielding both boys from their uncle's affection. "I'm raising my kids to dislike you. This is a family that hates before we love. If nobody else gon' keep it going, I will. You know me."

While the youngest brothers fell into their typical back-and-forth exchange of jabs covered in an unmistakable love for one another, you let the familiar chatter surround you in the kind of warmth that could only be felt in the presence of family.

To think that there was once a time when the family was split into factions too stubborn to have a civil conversation seemed like an alternate reality. You'd traversed the hardships of severed bonds to come out on the other end triumphant, with your relationship intact and growing by the minute.

As chatter grew louder, more guests seeking refuge from Yolanda's iron fist trickled into an already crowded room. Hassan rounded the corner with Lourdes and Sha'Tarra in tow, two of them holding separate glasses of spirits you could've sworn were off-limits until the evening.

Hassan chimed in, loud and gregarious, courtesy of the expensive whiskey in his half-empty glass. "Damn, we having a meeting, and nobody told us?"

"I always knew you liked Tootie more than me," Lourdes playfully accused Amir.

"You know they have a standing weekly lunch, right?" Tarra laughed as she rested against the quartz bathroom counter in her red satin dress that barely contained the seven-month pregnant belly she was starting to abhor. "Every Wednesday at Kismet downtown. Oh my God, I could go for some of their wings right now. Baby, can you order some for me? It's for AJ, and your mama is starving us."

Amir placed a chaste kiss on his wife's forehead to placate her before delivering devastating news. "I love you so much, baby. But my mama is gone be the reason AJ goes to college. We makin' money, but we ain't making Ivy League tuition money yet. Here. Chew some gum. It'll fill you up."

The room lit up with laughter except for Tarra, who screwed her face and smacked the stick of gum meant to cure her hunger out of Amir's hand. You chuckled along as you swapped children with Yahya and focused on cleaning Nasir's face for the hundredth time.

"If you want 'em, we packed some apple and carrot slices for Nas as a snack. They're in the loft and all yours."

The mention of a worthwhile snack made Tarra giddy enough to wiggle through her excitement while brandishing a manicured middle finger meant especially for her husband on her way out the door.

"Thank you, girl. At least somebody cares about me."

"You always coming to the rescue. Are you trynna steal my shine," Hassan asked with a laugh.

You shook your head. "Nah. I'm trynna steal Yahya's shine. You know he's the golden boy. I need them privileges for all my hard work keeping this family together."

"She's not wrong. Senior hasn't been this happy since…well, hell, I don't think I've ever seen your father this happy." Lourdes laughed.

"Turned him into sitcom dad in three years. You really might be a magician. You do taxes, Tootie?"

Loud laughter bounced off the bathroom walls at Amir's joke and the noticeable shift in Senior's behavior. A once hard man never known for pleasantries or extending kindness beyond his wife and grandchildren had blossomed into the quintessential loving grandfather.

A grand smile big enough to rival the sun had found a permanent home on his lips since the day Yahya met you at the end of a short backyard aisle and pledged his love to you forever and always. He was there when each of his youngest grandchildren were born, spent birthday parties dressed as a host of characters, played with action figures and dolls, and made time for weekly appointments with all of his children, natural and inherited.

Despite your humble denial that you had nothing to do with such a stark transition, you'd been credited with re-introducing the family to the best version of Senior they'd ever experienced.

Especially by Yahya, who finally got to know his father in a way he'd always desired.

"That's my baby," Yahya gushed, a silly grin gracing his face as he affectionately gripped your chin for a quick kiss. "You don't want her handling your money, though. She has no clue what a budget is."

"Why would I need a budget?"

"You sound like your mother-in-law, young lady."

A booming voice projecting beyond a ridiculous faux Santa beard came into the room shortly before Senior's physical presence joined the growing party. A glass of whiskey in his hand matched his oldest son's, making for a silent toast from across the way as they took identical sips.

He continued. "In here hiding from the lady of the house," he asked as he looked around the space at faces that gave answers that their mouths wouldn't dare utter. He took another sip and nodded. "This is a good spot. I usually do the cellar, but this works. She will find you, though."

"She always does. She is basically Detective Stabler in a pair of Dior slippers." Yahya laughed, earning a smile from his father.

An overlapping chorus of brief personal memories of being found by Yolanda amid a one-sided game of hide and seek. She always won no matter how they attempted to outsmart and evade her watchful eye.

Quickly finding his collection of older children uninteresting, Senior turned his attention to Nasir and Tariq, pulling the infant from his youngest son's arms to speak at him in a high-pitched voice.

"You win, my girl. Sorry, I ever doubted you. But using the baby is a dirty tactic."

"Who told you I played fair?"

"Touché."

Senior watched you and Amir exchange a handshake too complicated for his taste and screwed his face in growing confusion. "Win what? You two gambling again?"

"They think Tootie's your favorite now. Yahya lost his spot at the top." Hassan cut in.

The older man scoffed. "All of you are too old to be my favorite anything."

"But if you had to choose, it's Tootie, right?"

"I'm not answering that," he laughed before a quick pause to eye them all individually. He stopped at you and smiled, adding a wink before speaking again. "She isn't half bad if that's what you're asking."

Another round of laughter and collective conversation proved fatal as Yolanda marched down the hallway with Macie in tow. The soft clicking of her heels across wood floors didn't register amongst the chatter until it was too late. Your attempt to signal the others was futile. All of you were caught again.

Yolanda cleared her throat, freezing everyone in an instant. She folded her arms over her chest. "Is this what I get in return for all my hard work and planning? Are you hiding from me?" All in the room rushed to deny her accusation to no avail. She couldn't be fooled. "And then you lie to me. Am I nothing to you people?"

Her heavy dose of guilt worked how she'd intended, producing averted gazes and murmured apologies that made her bite back a triumphant smile.

"That's why I came down here, honey," Senior lied as he approached her for a kiss she didn't return. "They don't listen. I'm so glad you came to back me up. Bad, bad children the who-"

"You're laying it on thick. Stop while you're ahead."

"Yes, ma'am. Stopping now."

A tense silence hung in the room while they waited for Yolanda to unleash her wrath. You looked between everyone, your brain scrambling in a frantic search for words that could turn the snafu into more of a misunderstanding than an intentional slight.

Finally, your mind drafted an appropriate response. "We just wanted to get out of your way, Ms. Yolanda. Amir came to tell us you were almost ready for us, just like you asked, but I know you need quiet for a masterpiece. We should start outside so the folks across the street can get a reminder on who really runs Christmas around here."

The mention of the Walters family getting a glimpse of her kin all dressed in their holiday best brought back a competitive light to Yolanda's eyes as she smiled.

"You're right. I like the way you think," she started, her gaze far off for a moment while she envisioned the looks on their smug faces. She slowly refocused and waved her hands in the air. "Wrap this up and do it quickly. We have photos to take! C'mon, Senior. And take off that ridiculous beard. It's giving me "the ick," as Macie would say."

A collective sigh of relief was released as Yolanda left the room with her granddaughter hot on her heels, imitating her every move as a last-ditch effort to score the Christmas gift at the top of her list. Senior turned to the group and gestured toward you as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Now, can any of you do that?"

He didn't wait to hear an answer. As quickly as he could pass Tariq back to Yahya, he was off to comply with his wife's strict instructions.

One by one, the others trickled out, leaving behind various iterations of praise for your quick thinking and the recognition that you, in fact, had claimed the coveted throne with no worthy competitor in sight.

As the room returned to comfortable quiet, Yahya turned to you as you stood from the vanity to get a final look at your gown. He called your name softly before capturing your hand in his to pull you flush to his body.

A slow and thorough kiss connected your lips and tongues until he was confident that his actions had conveyed his point. But, just in case they didn't, he praised you with his words.

"If I was gonna give up my spot, I'm glad it's to you."

"I only wanna be queen of your heart, baby," you giggled. "The rest of this is just extra."

He chuckled at your smooth talking. "You can't finesse a finesser, baby. Who do you think talked you into all this? You ain't married with kids for no reason."

"Oh, please! Santa gave me all this. I had it on my list."

"Yeah, right."

Stolen kisses and lingering touches were cut short at a second call of their names from the hallway. Yahya reluctantly took the boys out of the bathroom's safety and into the winter chill, leaving you alone for a final moment of peace.

You took a look at your reflection, allowing a small smile to creep across your lip as your eyes swept over every change in your body since a fated meeting in your old apartment building. Formal gowns for family photos. A wedding ring that glittered in the light. A crazy bonus family that loved you dearly. Extra weight from two safe births only a few short years apart. All from a quick conversation with the guy next door.

"Thank you, Santa. This is cool or whatever."

Straightening the strap on your dress, you stood up a little straighter and laughed at yourself before flipping the light switch and joining your family. Santa had outdone himself yet again.

---

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