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headdinthewall · 1 month ago

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TAPED TEMPERS ── g.clarke ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : in which your lost-tempered ‘argument’ is caught on george’s stream, and his viewers have something to say about it a/n : next post will either be INSIDE part three or a tiktok trend post ! this is not proof read it’s also 3AM so there might be an abundance of mistakes, sorry if it’s really bad! content : established relationship ,, arguing ,, a lot of swearing on readers behalf ,, hate comments ,, a little bit of angst & comfort ,, family planning at the end

─────── YOU’D HAD A terrible day. You were late for work, though it wasn’t a big job and George was constantly reminding you that you didn’t have to work, it was nice to have your own thing to do. On top of that, it seemed to be ‘treat customer service like shit’ day, because you’d had an abundance of horrible people come up to you, when all you were trying to do was serve them coffee. The third thing that ruined your day? Some arsehole thought a good way to ‘flirt’ with you was to bump into you while you were holding a hot cup of coffee. And just to put the cherry on the cake, your bus was late, it was raining, and George was too busy filming to be able to come and pick you up.

To put it simply, you were in a very, very sour mood when you got back to the apartment.

You slammed the door shut behind you, locking it with much more force than necessary. You grumbled curses under your breath as you tried to run your hand through your hair.

Key word, tried.

A frustrated whine/cry/groan left your throat as your fingers got tangled in the wet, knotted strands of your hair.

It was quiet, and there were two pairs of shoes missing from the entry ways shoe rack, but you could hear George talking in his room, so that meant Arthur and Chris were the ones out.

As you walked towards the kitchen, you stumbled over a pair of trainers you recognised that had been carelessly strewn across the floor and you lost it.

“George, how many fucking times do I have to tell you to either keep your shoes in your room or put them on the fucking rack?!” You shouted, picking them up.

You took note of the sink full of dishes and wanted to rip the hair out of scalp and peel the skin from your bones.

“And the fucking dishes too! I did them for you last time it was your turn, but I’m not fucking doing it again! You’re 25, wash the fucking dishes!”

You practically threw his bedroom door open and slapped his trainers on the floor, an expression on your face that was nothing short of absolutely livid.

“Chat, I’m gonna have to cut this stream short, apologies—“

“Oh yeah, ‘sorry chat’ ‘sorry chat’ how about ‘sorry reader, for leaving the house a fucking mess’?!” You yelled.

He cut the stream short, “Okay, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” He said softly, tucking his chair under his desk and making his way into the kitchen to do the dishes.

“Honestly, I’m tired of coming back to a shit tip of an apartment, George. And you’re talking about us wanting to move out and get our own house? Well not if this is how you’re treating an apartment!” You lectured him, almost like a mother would her son.

The crash out was entirely unneeded, but the stress and constant fuck-ups of the day had finally caught up to you and were just spilling over your tongue.

“Okay, well if we lived together there wouldn’t be half the mess there is here, because Arthur and Chris make half of it themselves!” George argued while washing the plates.

“I’m not talking about their mess! I’m talking about your mess! The trainers on the floor were yours, it’s your turn to wash the dishes and you’ve been procrastinating it like a fucking year 11!”

“It’s not even that deep, reader! It’s a couple of dirty dishes!”

“Yeah, exactly! A couple of dirty dishes, so why cant you fucking take five minutes to clean them?!”

George sighed, knowing to just nod at your words when you were in this state. You let out a loud huff and slumped down on the couch.

After 10 minutes, the water stopped running and the sound of ceramic clattering together stopped. There was a dip in the couch beside you and George was there, arms open with a sympathetic look on his face.

You bit your lip, tears brimming in your eyes as you just fell not-so-gracefully, sideways into his embrace, tension dissipating from your body upon contact. His arms enveloped around you and he rested his chin on top of your head.

“What happened, hm?” George asked calmly, “Why are you in a bad mood, my lovely?”

“Everything that could’ve gone wrong today, has gone wrong.” You croaked, sniffling as tears traveled down your face, rolling over the hills of your cheeks. “Everyone I served at work today was a fucking arsehole, my bus was late, it rained on the way home, some wanker bumped into me and spilt coffee all down me. God, it was fucking dreadful today.”

“Oh, my darling, I’m sorry.” He mumbled into your hair, kissing it softly. “Think about it like this, yeah? Not everything that could’ve gone wrong today has. You could’ve lost your keys, but you didn’t. A car could’ve driven in a puddle while you were going past, but it didn’t.”

You nodded, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands. George shifted you, lifting your head with his hands on your cheeks.

“Also, an old witch could’ve cursed you to be an ugly bastard forever, but that never happened. You’re still beautiful.” He joked, kissing you softly.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, “I shouldn’t have shouted and sworn at you like that.”

“It’s alright. I probably deserved it. Especially if we’re going to be moving in together soon, need to make sure I’m on my best behaviour.” He smirked, kissing your forehead, practically smothering you with affection, trying his absolute hardest to rid you of any negative thoughts and feelings of the days events.

“I love you.” You mumbled.

“I love you too, my darling.”

a combination of tweets & comments on youtube

user1 anyone else mildly concerned about the way reader spoke to george during last nights stream?

user2 🚩 🚩 can’t believe she spoke to him so violently

user3 i could never let my partner talk me like that, i’d just walk out on them

user4 massive ick the way reader shouted at george last night!

user5 now imagine if he had shouted at her like that… it would be a whole different story

user6 the fact that she portrays herself as a cutesy girl online but speaks to her boyfriend like that behind closed doors is just… ugh

user7 nah… her audacity. he literally pays her bills, pays for her clothes and got her half the fame she has

user8 you’d never catch me staying in a relationship like that.

─────── THE NEXT MORNING, George was setting up his phone against his monitor on his desk, ready to film a tiktok as he sat in his gaming chair.

“Um, hello everyone. I don’t normally do a video like this, so … apologies for the weird switch up, but I’ve seen a lot of comments circling on youtube and twitter about my girlfriend, and I just want to clear a few things up. One, yes, she did yell at me last night. Did I deserve it? Kind of. I— I will admit that I did commit a bit of an oopsie last night, but we’ve had our own conversation and settled things, what you saw in the stream was just … her shouting at me. You guys are acting like I was just getting an onslaught of verbal abuse, which didn’t happen. Two, please don’t involve yourselves in my relationship. I appreciate each and every one of you for your support, but … yeah. I promise that our relationship is 100% healthy, and it has been for a year now. Me and reader don’t need any sort of … advice, if you will, about how to communicate. The odd argument will happen in a relationship, but what matters is how you deal with it, which we have done.” George held two thumbs up.

“Also, please stop sending her hate. We woke up this morning and a number of you have sent her DM’s claiming that she’s a ‘horrible girlfriend’ and that she doesn’t deserve me. Again, please stay out of my relationship and my private life and just … appreciate what I do share with you and the content that I do put out. I think reader actually wants to say something …” He looked over at you off screen.

You shimmied out of bed and appeared on camera, wearing one of George’s shirts that came down to your upper thigh.

“Hi everyone! Um, leave me alone, please and thanks.” You shrugged, “No, but seriously, please stop sending me messages saying ‘apologies to George now’ ‘you shouldn’t speak to him like that’ and whatever else you guys — for some reason — think is acceptable to text me. I can assure you that me and George spoke and it’s all been dealt with. Another thing is, I’m not apologising to you guys. Why? Because I’m not dating you guys. I don’t owe you guys anything apology or a reason as to why I behaved like that, but I did owe it to George, and—“

“The owe has been made.” George interrupted, putting on a fancy voice. “El Clarko is pleased and happy.”

“Exactly, so … yeah. But thank you to those who were defending me in the comments. Love you all!” You blew a kiss to the screen.

“Yeah, sorry for the weird post, just thought this was necessary to put across because reader was getting hate and it was making us both quite upset, and I wanted to address the whole situation. Thanks guys, see you later.” George finalised before ending the video, rewatching it over and then posting it.

Once he had done that, you got back into bed with each other, legs entangled with your head on his chest and his fingers dancing along your bare thigh.

“Do you want to look at houses online today?” George muttered, using his spare hand to comb through your hair.

“Sure.” You hummed, your throat vibrating against his chest. “Two bedroom? Or one?”

“What would we need two for?”

“I dunno …” Lie. “Maybe … I dunno, just in case … y’know …”

“Just in case what?” George frowned, completely oblivious as to what you were trying to get at.

“In case we get a baby Clarkey.” You mumbled shyly.

“You want a baby Clarkey?” A smirk slowly sores across his face.

“Yeah— No— I dunno, I was just thinking … What if it happened?” You shrugged, looking up at him. “What are you smirking at?”

“Oh, nothing.” He chuckled, coming forward to kiss your forehead, “We can look at two bedroom houses if that’s what you want.”

“That’s not a free pass for you to cum in me.” You spoke quickly before he got any ideas, but you both knew you were treading lightly on the topic, quite open to the idea of kids, especially now you were both mid-20s.

“Okay, okay.” He said with a dramatic sigh.

You stared at each other, sleepy eyes looking at sleepy eyes. Eyes full of love and adoration, the idea of starting a family together being a blossoming thought in both of your minds.

#ukyt #george clarke #george clarke fanfic #george clarke fics #george clarkey #george clarkey x reader #ukyt fanfic

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thedilfdiaries · 1 year ago

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How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz

Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount

Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.

Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?

Evening, Day 1

As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.

The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.

Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."

You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"

"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."

You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart.

The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J

You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.

Evening, Day 2

You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.

—

"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out."

You nod, taking up position without hesitation.

As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly.

Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened. A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all.

The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further.

As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted.

Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.

Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.

You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.

As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.

Evening, Day 3

The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.

We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.

You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.

As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria.

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.

"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.

"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."

Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies.

As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.

—

The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.

Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.

Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.

"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?”

Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat.

You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.

Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”

You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."

Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."

Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.

You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances.

"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.

Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.

Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer.

It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.

Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.

The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.

The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.

There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection

As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.

With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.

Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.

The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace.

Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.

The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?

You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.

As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.

You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.

You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.

You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.

Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.

You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.

"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."

Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”

Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."

Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”

You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."

Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”

—

As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.

The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.

Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.

You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report.

You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note

Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.

You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes.

As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle.

Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?"

He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff."

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.

Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."

Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller fluff

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kdyq · 6 months ago

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Noxian legacy

Part three of my mini series

context You and Ambessa share moments while preparing for the arrival of your baby

The sun cast a soft golden glow across the estate as you stood in the entry hall adjusting the buttons of your coat. Ambessa appeared from her study, already dressed in her sharp dark attire. Her golden eyes softened as they landed on you.

“Are you ready?” she asked her deep voice steady but also nervous.

You nodded smiling despite the fluttering in your stomach. “Are you?”

Ambessa gave a low chuckle stepping closer to rest her large hand on your back. “I’ve fought wars and faced councils but this…” She trailed off shaking her head as a rare small smile tugged at her lips. “This is entirely new.”

The two of you set off for the Hextech facility the journey unusually quiet. Ambessa held your hand the entire way with her grip firmly. When you arrived a staff member greeted you and led you into a private room with advanced equipment.

The healer an older woman with kind eyes gestured for you to lie down on the cushioned table. Ambessa lingered close her arms crossed but her gaze never leaving the healer’s hands as she watched the healer prepare the instruments.

“This might feel a little cold” the healer said spreading a clear gel across your abdomen.

You flinched slightly at the cool sensation and Ambessa immediately leaned closer her brows knitting together. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine” you reassured her placing your hand over hers.

The healer adjusted the monitor and pressed the wand against your skin. For a moment the room was silent except for the faint hum of the machine. Then the screen flickered to life displaying a small flickering shape.

“There it is” the healer said softly angling the screen so you and Ambessa could see.

You turned to look at Ambessa expecting her usual composed demeanor. Instead her eyes were fixed on the screen wide with wonder. Her hand tightened around yours as she leaned in closer her breath catching.

“That’s…” She paused her voice steady but creaking. “That’s our child.”

Tears fall from your eyes as you nodded. “Yeah. That’s them.”

For a moment the world seemed to stop. Ambessa’s usually stoic expression melted away replaced by raw emotion. Her free hand reached out hesitantly as if she could touch the tiny life on the screen.

“Strong heartbeat” the healer noted pointing to the rhythmic pulse on the monitor.

Ambessa’s lips parted and a rare tear glistened in the corner of her eye. She quickly blinked it away but you caught it your heart swelling at the sight.

“Do you want a picture to take home?” the healer asked breaking the spell.

Ambessa straightened clearing her throat. “Yes. Definitely.”

After the appointment Ambessa suggested stopping by Mel’s residence for a quiet dinner she had arranged in your honor. To your surprise Mel greeted you warmly her usual sharp demeanor softened.

“Halfway there” Mel said with a small smile raising a glass in your honor.

The dinner was intimate with Mel Ambessa and you sharing stories laughter and heartfelt toasts. Despite their differences you could see a subtle warmth between Mel and her mother a rare connection fostered by the new life growing within you.

“You’ll make a fine parent” Mel said at one point surprising Ambessa with her sincerity. “And I’ll make a fine sister.”

Ambessa’s chest swelled with pride and she pulled you closer. “You’ll have to fight me to be the child’s favorite” she teased her protective tone softening the moment.

The evening ended with quiet laughter and a sense of unity you hadn’t expected filling you with hope for the future.

When you returned to the estate Ambessa led you to a secluded part of the grounds where a vibrant garden awaited. “I had this prepared for you” she said gesturing to the cozy benches the flowering trees and the gentle stream running through the space.

“For me?” you asked touched.

“For you” she confirmed “and for the moments you need peace. I know this journey won’t always be easy but you’ll have this our sanctuary.”

You gazed at her overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness and smiled. “I love it. And I love you.”

Ambessa pulled you into her arms her embrace warm and steady. “I love you too” she murmured. “And I will love our child with everything I have.”

Later that evening as you prepared for bed Ambessa emerged from her study carrying a small ornately carved box. She set it gently on the table beside you and opened it revealing a shimmering necklace adorned with an intricate Noxian insignia.

“This” she began her voice deep and stern“is a piece of my family’s legacy. In Noxus it’s tradition to pass this down to the next generation.”

You stared at the necklace its craftsmanship stunning and looked up at her. “You’re giving this to me?”

Ambessa nodded. “It’s for our child but until they’re born I want you to keep it close. As a promise. A bond.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached for the necklace. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Ambessa stepped closer her hands cupping your face. “You are the one who brought light into my life. And now you’ve given me something I never thought I’d have a future worth fighting for.”

You kissed her deeply feeling the weight of her words and the strength of your love.

As the rain began to patter softly against the windows you curled up together in bed the necklace resting on your chest and Ambessa’s arms securely around you. For the first time in her life she allowed herself to imagine a future filled with love family and peace.

“THE END”

AN/

This series is so fun and it makes me happy that yall are exactly liking my stories. I genuinely made this page just strictly for me to post stories that I have made up or stories that I have seen and wondered how it would be if it was in a different character but I never knew it would blow up like this thank you all so much fr and happy new year!!!!

#arcane #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #arcane x reader #arcane x you #ambessa x you #mel and ambessa #ambessa the chosen of the wolf

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immediatebreakfast · 2 months ago

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Every time I read Lucy's first entry I'm so impressed by how defined she is with what is her introduction to the story. It's so bright, yet full of secrets.

The picture of the perfect victorian girl who talks about how nice it is that the man she fancies gets along well with her mom, while telling her seemly only confidant the boring cares of fashion which she doesn't partake in. Lucy writes as she is thinking, a stream of thoughts that read as she could recite them word by word and it will "sound" the same.

Oh, but the longing she expresses for Mina, to establish the tight-knit loving bond they share. It sets how Lucy is so ready to share her love with others, but is so reserved with who she shares her beloved secrets. Only Mina can see this letter, only she can understand the why of Lucy writing that she must stop her thoughts, and immediately send the letter less she tears it apart without judgement.

#Lucy ✨✨✨✨#She is everything!#dracula daily #dracula #lucy westenra

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pequins · 11 months ago

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Drunk Schlatt NSFW??? I’ll love you forever ‼️ Also can I be 🧀 anon?

as you wish, 🧀 anon :)

MDNI !!! SMUT AHEAD

poison 𝜗𝜚

cw : AFAB reader.

He sat in his dimly lit streaming room, his head tilted back as he finished off the last of his bottle of Jack Daniels, the stream long finished. He huffed, his cheeks flushed a scarlet pink hue, he reached up to rub at his temples as he leaned back on his chair. He was feeling needy, a very specific need. He looked around for a moment before calling for you. "Doll, where the hell are you?" He called out, when he didn't get an immediate answer, he huffed and grumbled as he got up, stumbling on his feet a bit from the alcohol running through his system as he made his way out of the room.

He began to look for you around the house, calling your name.* "y/n? I know you’re around here somewhere” He called again, It wasn't long before he found you, lying in your shared bed with your headphones on; you perked your head up, noticing his entry. “done streaming?” you asked, sliding your headphones off your ears, a smile spreading across your face as you noticed his flushed face and tousled hair.

He only nodded in response, stumbling over to the bed and flopping himself down next to you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck with a huff. Now that he was close enough for you to get a good look at him, you could see his rosy cheeks and flushed expression. you chuckled, gently running a hand through his brown locks.

“missed you.” He mumbled into your skin as he pulled himself closer against you, the warmth of his breath against your neck causing you to shiver softly. his rough, calloused hand slid to rest on the side of your waist, the other remained wrapped around you. He buried his face further into the crook of your neck, slowly becoming more desperate, pressing sloppy kisses on your collarbone.

His hand began to wander from your waist to beneath the fabric of your shirt as he grew more needy. He nipped at your sensitive skin, breathing softly against you, a mumbled “y/n” escaping his lips. you shivered, “hm?” you hummed in response. He looked up at you with his dark brown eyes, pupils slightly dilated. He looked half out of it, rosy flush spread across his skin. He looked at you expectantly, almost desperate.

he ran his hand over the soft skin of your abdomen. “Need you,” he mumbled as he began to nip and kiss down your body, traveling from your collarbone to the hem of your pajama pants, leaving sloppy kisses in various places. His breath ghosted across your skin as his hand reached up to wander over your upper body, rough hands groping at your chest before slowly moving further down; trailing to your thighs. “johnathan— we cant, you’re drunk” you huffed, pushing his hands away.

“I’m not that drunk,” he said gruffly, putting his back on the hem of your pants, tugging lightly like a bratty child wanting attention. “Come on,” he whined, “You want me too, don’t you doll?” He continued. an almost silent whine erupted from your throat, feeling heat spread across your core at the sight of him so disheveled and needy. god—you wanted him just as badly. “we cant..” you whimpered, covering your mouth as your chest heaved, your body growing insanely hot.

He began to grow frustrated, and a small pout formed on his face, “please?” He practically pleaded, looking up at you with glossy eyes, now pleading. “just let me feel you..” he mumbled. he roughly tugged your pants down to your ankles, inducing shocked yelp from your throat. he let out a shaky breath, marveling at your exposed panties.

he gripped your thighs, savagely forcing your legs apart. you only trembled, your entire body flushing a vibrant shade of pink. he looked up at you with a lustful, primal gaze, his once glossy eyes now darkened with lust. “so fuckin’ sexy” he muttered huskily, his voice raspy. he lazily kissed over your clothed clit, the sudden warmth causing a shiver to run down your spine.

he abruptly stood up, wobbling a bit; slatternly sliding his gym shorts and boxers down to his ankles, briskly freeing his thick cock, tip already shiny and leaking precum. he roughly grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. “johnny— wait— wait a minute—“ you stammered. He looked at you as if were prey, ignoring your plea. he let out raspy, throaty breaths as he abruptly slid your panties to the side.

he licked his lips, “god— you’re irresistible.” he spoke bearishly, bracing himself on your hips as he slid into you. You winced and tensed as he pushed deeper into you, soft whimpers erupting from your throat as he slid all the way inside of you. He’s aggressive and rough, gripping at your hips so tightly they’d probably bruise, pulling out just to the tip before thrusting back in, setting a fast yet steady pace.

“thats it doll, take it— fuck—” he groaned, Your breathing was fast, your eyes were glassy and your moans were desperate and needy, a spew of low grunts and moans left his lips, feeling your cunt tighten around him as your legs shook. he threw his head back, letting out deep, gutteral groans as you roughly gripped his shoulders.

His thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy, his high was reaching, quicker than usual thanks to the heightened sensation from the alcohol. “oh god— fuck— baby” he moaned, his voice high pitched as you clenched around him tightly, it even more was enough to send him over the edge.

the sensation of his pubes rubbing against your core making your body shiver. He came with a low groan, you whimpered feeling him release deep into your womb. he collapsed on top of you and heaved, burying his head into the crook of your neck, kissing your cheek before pulling out of you.

#jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt fic #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #boyfriend schlatt #schlatt x you #schlatt headcanons #schlatt x y/n #schlatt fanfic #schlatt x reader #schlatt #schlatt smut #jschlatt smut #mcytblr #mcyt #jynnie writes

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acosmicbee · 1 month ago

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Hi! I'm a new watcher here and I absolutely love your stories! I have a story idea that I thought i would shoot your way. What about a platonic yandere giant and sacrificial princess.

Like the royal family, and kingdom have to pay tribute to the giant to avoid destruction, and usually they just leave food, and precious materials however, the king had a bastard daughter with a maid, and to save face he legitimized her.

However, she was unwanted and unloved by the royal family, and so to get rid of her they decided to sacrifice her to the giant.

Little Gift

(I hope you like where I took your request! Thank you for the compliments and enjoy!)

It was hot today. You were out by the river, practically sweating through your uniform as you washed some clothes. You and the other servants doing the cleaning today were alternating between quickly splashing each other with some water to cool off while cleaning.

It was informal, not something expected of the palace servants at all. The head maid would have all of your heads if she caught you, but it was too hot to mind much.

You wiped a mixture of sweat and water off your forehead with the back of your hand, grimacing at your pruned fingers as you began washing again. You were half listening to a story from one of the boys about his brother or something when the ground beneath you shook.

It was early, way too early for the giants to be coming down to collect their annual tribute. People screamed as the earth shook again, tremors sending birds from the trees and shaking berries from their bushes.

You clung onto a nearby tree for support, hoping that whatever this was it would stop soon. Carefully you climbed up the tree, holding onto it tight as the ground still shook. You could see more clearly now as you looked above the tops of nearby trees, searching for the castle outside the forest.

Instead you saw two giants, even though it was too early for them to arrive, both dressed immaculately with gold accents everywhere in their attire. Both appeared regal in their bearing as they approached the castle, even if their faces carried unhappy expressions.

The closer they got to the castle, and the further from the stream, the gentler the tremors got until they completely stopped. You climbed down the tree just in time for the head maid to arrive and order everyone back to the castle for safety.

The entry to the maid's quarters had been blocked off by a small landslide so you and the other maids used one of the main entrances. You were carrying your basket of laundry as loud voices approached. Recognizing the king's voice you lowered your head in respect.

"I promise I... I have a child that is unlike any other royal!" The king said, clearly trying to sound boastful. Instead, he sounded nervous, almost scared. You nearly jumped out of your skin when your arm was suddenly grabbed and you were tugged out of line, your basket falling to the floor. "Y-Y/N! I thought I told you to stop playing with the maids!"

You looked up at him in shock, eyes wide as you glanced between his nervous demeanor and the two giants now looking down at you. The king wasn't a small man, he was tall and muscular and a certified warrior. Next to the giants however, he looked no bigger than a child next to their parent.

The giants were big, only able to stand due to the high ceilings of the castle's entryway. You were basically the size of a baby next to them, barely reaching above the female giant's knee and not even reaching that far on the male giant. You felt smaller than normal under their gazes, frozen with shock.

"Y/N here is a strange child, but I'm sure she'd be a great fit!" The king said, still holding your arm. "They haven't had their coronation yet either so it wouldn't brew any sort of discourse among our people!"

"Hmm... they're tiny..." The female giant said, before whispering something to her male companion who chuckled.

"You're right dear." The male said back, looking you over with a soft look that carried something darker. "Fine, we accept your deal. However, on top we also expect double what you typically owe."

"D-Double?!" The king spluttered, finally dropping your arm. A fierce glare from the giants instantly shut him up as he subtly stepped behind you, as if you would somehow protect him. "Double it is then..."

"Then we shall see you at our normal time to pick them up." The female giant said, looking at you. "Come dear, let us prepare."

With that they ducked under the main entrance's doorframe, still too short for them despite being nearly a story tall. As soon as they were gone you turned to the king, realizing that he'd just made some sort of deal that involved trading you away.

"What did you do?" You whispered, anger lacing your voice as you moved to pick up the laundry you'd spilled, still laying on the ground. The king grit his teeth, pulling away instantly as he wiped his hand on his clothes like you were diseased.

"I saved my family." He hissed, turning on his heel and disappearing back to wherever he'd come from.

»>»>»>»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞«<«<«<«

You'd known you were the king's child since you could talk. Known all about how he'd had an affair with your mother, gotten her pregnant then abandoned her. How he'd picked a maid, even temporarily, over his queen.

She was long dead, your mother. You had no one but the other maids you'd grown up with, hidden away in a plain uniform with people usually ignored. They knew though, everyone did who worked here.

Your father had made it very clear he'd die before ever accepting you. Yet now that he needed you suddenly you were his odd and misguided child who played with the maids and did chores instead of attending to royal duties.

Suddenly you were being measured for a crown and royal clothes to help you play your part. It didn't mean you were treated any better, just tolerated because they needed you to bail them out of whatever problem they'd gotten themselves in, one that you discovered rather quickly.

"He stole some gold from the giants! The fool almost got all of us killed just so he could win some stupid bet!" A maid hissed to you as you both set out some sheets to dry on the line. Your face soured as you realized the sheer stupidity of the first prince.

"And he's supposed to be the heir? This place will collapse in a day." You bitterly spat, snapping the clothespin you were holding. You hissed when some of the wood caused a splinter, even angrier as you dug it out.

"Apparently the giants demanded that in return the royal family had to give up something precious to them, but I didn't hear what." One of the serving boys added.

"They had to give up a child." You seethed, finally getting the splinter out. The other two fell silent as they connected your words and your foul mood, the atmosphere turning somber as you finished hanging up the sheets.

»>»>»>»↠ ≈☆≈ ↞«<«<«<«

"This is the worst day of my life." You miserably sulked. Apparently sacrificing you wasn't enough, they also had to tie you to a tree to make sure you couldn't escape as if they weren't hiding in the tree line to make sure the gifts were accepted. Cowards, all of them.

You were dressed in nicer fabrics then you'd ever touched before, the tiniest crown possible half sliding off your head as you glared up at the sky.

And then you watched as the clouds began to part and the two giants you'd seen a month earlier appeared. They effortlessly floated down to the ground, their landing deceptively soft. You didn't even try to look pleased from where you were still tied to a tree, the rough bark biting into your skin.

The male giant frowned, drawing his sword. You gulped, closing your eyes only for him to carefully slice the rope holding you in place. With your mobility restored you were able to untie your wrists, leaving the two severed pieces of rope on the ground.

You screamed when you were abruptly picked up and the ground was suddenly so far away from you. You were pressed into the female giant's chest, shaking in fear, as the ground suddenly became even farther. You closed your eyes when you realized they'd began their accent back into their cloudy kingdom, strange magic allowing them the grace of much smaller beings.

They didn't put you down even when they'd begun walking again, fields of clouds broken up by the occasional house or business. You even saw some children playing, nearly twice your size despite looking way younger.

You watched in a mix of fear and awe as they approached a giant castle... well you suppose it was normal size for them. It wasn't until they'd stepped inside, talking over your head about something or another, that you realized you were being held like a baby.

Then again, most other positions would be impossible considering the vast difference in size. Her fingertip was almost the size of your head as she gently stroked it down your back, making you shiver.

"Shh, little gift, you can lie down for your nap soon." She said, laughing when you tried to look up at her in confusion.

"Aw, so adorable. Cato, their room is finished, yes?" She asked, ignoring your frown at how she seemed to be babying you.

"It's been finished for a week, love. You literally went in there this morning to rearrange some things, remember?" He grinned, leaning slightly so he was eye level with where you were peeking over his wife's shoulder.

"Do you think they'll get any bigger? They're so tiny." He said, not at all sounding concerned for whether or not you'd actually be getting bigger. "Here, let me get the door, love."

"They probably won't -- thank you dearest -- be getting any bigger. You've seen the size of other humans. They always stay quite small." She said, giggling when you refused to be set down in what looked to be a glorified crib.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but it was the only bed we could find that was somewhat your size. Besides, the extra safety isn't that bad, now you don't have to worry about rolling off." She said, this time detaching you from her shirt.

"I don't need a nap." You protested, trying to stand only to fall back down onto the mattress. The bed was the perfect amount of soft, but that didn't matter to you as you stood up again, using the bars for support this time.

"Nope, most of the royal children nap. So, unless you're not a royal child and we've been deceived then you'll settle down. I'm sure you wouldn't like to see what we'd do to your kingdom if we find out we were double crossed." Cato said, his voice dropping dangerously low even as he smiled at you.

You thought back to the other servant, all the times you'd horsed around together. You'd never had a family, but you also had never been alone with the others. They didn't deserve to be punished because you couldn't pretend to nap for a little while.

You reluctantly nodded, ignoring their smiles when you did. Soon enough you changed into a pair of pajamas fit for a royal, ones that had been tailored for you at the last minute. The two of them had been walking around the room preparing while you changed under the sheets, not even looking at you.

"Raina, can you help me set this up?" Cato asked, Raina instantly moving to help him. Whatever they had began to emit a soft smell of lavender when it was turned on, your brain finding it unfortunately pleasing.

"Hmm, I wonder what made you run around with those maids back when you were with the humans. Did you feel neglected? Not get enough attention from that coward king and queen? Rest assured, we'll never let you feel alone enough to act out like that for attention." Raina hummed, even though it was clear she knew the story was fake.

They were controlling you, you realized. Threatening everyone you left behind if you weren't their perfect royal human. You didn't even know what they saw you as, probably a baby or a young child though from the way they treated you.

Soon enough they both tucked you in, smiling down at you from above your bed crib thing. Was this how babies felt? Always being looked at by scary strange giants? You suddenly felt remorseful for every baby you'd ever met, which wasn't many but still.

"Sleep tightly, little gift. Don't worry your pretty little head, mommy and daddy will be right here when it's time to wake up. Just close your eyes and sleep. We promise you'll never feel alone again."

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #platonic #yandere ocs #parental yandere

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riesread · 10 months ago

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Shattered Trust, Mended Hearts

— REQUESTED by ANON / REQUEST status: OPEN

— pairing • jude bellingham x soft!reader

— summary • Jude Bellingham, consumed by jealousy and fueled by rumors, believes his girlfriend is cheating on him. In a moment of anger, he refuses to let her explain, kicking her out of their shared apartment. Tragedy strikes when she gets into a life-threatening accident, leaving Jude overwhelmed by guilt and regret. With her in the hospital, he reflects on his mistakes and learns that love and trust are fragile but worth fighting for. Realizing that she never betrayed him, Jude is forced to confront his own insecurities. Together, they find a way to rebuild their broken relationship, restoring what was lost in a sea of misunderstanding and pain.

— warnings • Heavy angst, miscommunication, car accident, hospital scenes, mention of injuries, emotional turmoil.

"Jude, please, just listen to me—"

"I’ve already heard enough!" Jude's voice roared through the apartment, his anger palpable, bouncing off the walls like daggers. He stood in the kitchen, fists clenched, chest heaving, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. His dark eyes, usually so warm when they looked at you, were cold and distant, as if he couldn’t even recognize you.

You stood frozen near the door, the keys you had just placed on the entry table trembling under your fingers. You had no idea what you were walking into. Coming home after a long day at work, all you wanted was to relax with Jude, maybe watch a movie, talk about your day—but instead, you were met with fury.

"Jude," you whispered, your voice shaking, tears already welling in your eyes. "Please. Just tell me what’s going on."

He scoffed bitterly, turning away from you as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Don’t act like you don’t know," he muttered, his back to you now as he stared out the window into the rainy night.

You blinked, confused. "I—I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jude whipped around, his expression dark. "Oh, don’t play innocent, Y/N. I know about you and Ryan."

The mention of Ryan's name hit you like a punch to the gut. Ryan was a colleague from work—someone you'd had to collaborate with closely for the last few weeks due to a project, but it had never been anything more than that. He was friendly, sure, but you never saw him in that way. You never even thought Jude would be suspicious. "Ryan? Jude, he's just a co-worker, we—"

"A co-worker? That’s funny, because that’s not what everyone else seems to think!" Jude's voice was dripping with bitterness, a tone you had never heard from him before. "Do you think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’ve been acting? Coming home late, spending more time with him than with me—"

You shook your head frantically, trying to approach him, but he stepped back, his face twisted in hurt and disbelief. "Jude, no, it's not like that! I swear, it’s just work! There’s nothing going on between me and Ryan, you have to believe me!"

But Jude wasn’t listening. He wasn’t hearing you. All he could see, all he could feel, was the poison that had been festering in his mind for days, the doubts and insecurities that had been fueled by whispers and rumors. He was blinded by his pain.

"You think I’m an idiot? You think I haven’t heard the rumors? Everyone’s been talking about it, Y/N. About how you and him have been seen together, laughing, having lunch, all those 'late nights' at the office. I bet they weren’t all about work, were they?"

You were shaking now, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out to him. "Jude, please. I would never—"

"I don’t want to hear it!" His voice cracked, loud and raw, and it silenced you. His anger was too much, too overwhelming. You had never seen him like this before—this angry, this distant. And it broke your heart to see the doubt in his eyes, the mistrust.

"I thought I knew you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost more painful than his shouts. "I thought we had something real. But maybe I was wrong."

Your chest constricted painfully, your breath hitching as you reached for him one last time, desperate to hold on to something that was slipping away. "Jude, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don’t do this. I love you."

But Jude’s gaze hardened. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me."

The silence that followed was deafening, your heart shattering into a million pieces as he turned his back to you again, his next words sealing your fate.

"Get out."

You stood there, frozen, your mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he had just said. "What?"

"Get. Out," he repeated, his voice quiet but firm, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you anymore. "I don’t want to see you right now."

Your world came crashing down in that moment, the weight of his words too much to bear. You opened your mouth to say something, to beg him to listen to you, but no words came out. You felt numb, completely broken.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your bag and stumbled toward the door, your vision blurry from the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. As you reached for the doorknob, you turned back one last time, hoping—praying—that Jude would stop you, that he would realize how wrong he was and call you back.

But he didn’t.

He stood there, rigid and unmoving, his eyes focused on the floor, his expression unreadable.

And so, you left.

The rain was relentless, soaking through your clothes as you stepped out onto the dark street. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering both from the cold and the overwhelming despair that consumed you. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t breathe. All you could do was walk, your feet moving without direction, aimlessly wandering the city streets, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

How had things gone so wrong? How had the love you shared with Jude turned into this nightmare?

You pulled out your phone, trying to dial your friend’s number, but your hands were trembling too much to type properly. You managed to hit send, but as you crossed the street, you didn’t hear the roar of the car coming toward you until it was too late.

The blinding lights flashed before your eyes, and then— Nothing.

Jude sat on the couch, his hands covering his face as he let out a shaky breath. He had kicked you out. The realization sank in slowly, the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

I kicked her out.

The anger that had burned so fiercely in him just moments ago was gone, replaced by a sickening sense of guilt and dread. The apartment felt too quiet, too empty without you there. And now, sitting there alone in the dark, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was terribly wrong.

His phone buzzed in his lap, dragging him out of his thoughts. It wasn’t a number he recognized.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse, tired.

"Is this Jude Bellingham?" a woman’s voice asked, calm but urgent.

"Yes," he answered slowly, his heart beginning to race. "Who is this?"

"This is St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m calling about your partner. She’s been in an accident."

Jude felt the floor drop out from beneath him. "An accident? What—how bad is it?"

"She’s in critical condition. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

Jude’s legs felt like lead as he sprinted through the hospital’s sterile halls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reached the emergency ward. His heart pounded violently in his chest, panic rising with each step.

A nurse led him to your room, where the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, left him frozen in place.

His world shattered in that moment.

You were so pale, so still, and the beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Jude sank into the chair by your bedside, his hands shaking as he reached out to take yours.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. "God, I’m so sorry, *Y/N*. I didn’t mean any of it. I should’ve believed you."

He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips as his tears fell freely now. "Please wake up," he begged. "Please. I need you. I—I love you. I was so stupid. I should have trusted you."

The guilt gnawed at him, tearing him apart as he watched your chest rise and fall weakly with each breath. How had he let things spiral this far? Why hadn’t he listened? Why hadn’t he let you explain?

For three days, Jude didn’t leave your side. He barely slept, barely ate. He couldn’t think of anything else but you and how wrong he had been.

When your fingers twitched on the fourth day, Jude’s heart leapt in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open, groggy and disoriented, the bright lights of the hospital room making you wince. Everything felt heavy, your body aching, and it took you a moment to remember what had happened.

"Y/N?" Jude’s voice was soft, but urgent, pulling you back to reality. You turned your head slowly, finding him sitting beside you, his face pale, eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

"Jude…" you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Jude reached for your hand, his fingers trembling as he held yours tightly. "I’m so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so wrong, *Y/N*. I was so stupid. I—I didn’t trust you, and I should have. I should have believed you. None of this—none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been such an idiot."

You blinked, trying to process everything, your heart aching at the sight of him so broken. "Jude…" you whispered again, trying to find the right words. "It’s okay."

"No, it’s not." He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pressed your hand to his lips. "It’s not okay. I almost lost you because I was too caught up in my own insecurities to trust you. I should’ve known you would never… I should’ve known better."

You looked into his eyes, the raw pain and regret there clear as day, and despite everything—despite the accident, the pain, the heartache—you still loved him. You had always loved him. "Jude, I love you," you whispered, managing a small smile despite the tears in your own eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you. I would never cheat on you."

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning down to rest his forehead against your hand. "I know," he whispered. "I know now. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. If you’ll have me."

You squeezed his hand weakly, your voice soft but filled with emotion. "Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere."

Jude let out a soft, broken laugh through his tears, leaning in to gently press his lips to your forehead. "I love you so much," he whispered against your skin. "And I’m never letting you go again."

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham gif #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x fem!reader #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fluff

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globalnest · 1 month ago

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Immigrate to Canada through Nova Scotia PNP Your Gateway to a Better Life

Nova Scotia, located on Canada’s stunning east coast, is a province known for its high quality of life, welcoming communities, and growing job opportunities. If you are a skilled worker or graduate looking to build a future in Canada, the Nova Scotia Nominee Program (NSNP) offers a direct and strategic route to permanent residency.

This Atlantic province values international talent and offers immigration pathways that are efficient, fair, and focused on long-term settlement success.

What is the Nova Scotia Nominee Program (NSNP)?

The NSNP is Nova Scotia’s Provincial Nominee Program, designed to attract individuals who can contribute to the province’s economy and society. Through this program, Nova Scotia nominates eligible candidates for Canadian permanent residency who meet the specific labor market and demographic needs of the province.

Key Streams under NSNP

1. Nova Scotia Demand: Express Entry

For highly skilled workers with experience in high-demand occupations in Nova Scotia. Applicants must be registered in the federal Express Entry pool and meet specific criteria.

2. Nova Scotia Experience: Express Entry

This stream targets skilled individuals with at least one year of work experience in Nova Scotia. It helps retain talent already contributing to the province’s workforce.

3. Nova Scotia Labour Market Priorities

This flexible stream selects candidates directly from the Express Entry pool based on current labor market needs in the province.

4. Labour Market Priorities for Physicians

Specifically designed to attract general practitioners and family physicians willing to work in designated communities in Nova Scotia.

5. Occupation in Demand Stream

Targets intermediate-skilled jobs that are currently in demand in the province, including transport, healthcare, and labor roles.

6. Entrepreneur and International Graduate Entrepreneur Streams

For individuals who wish to start or operate a business in Nova Scotia. Applicants must meet ownership, investment, and experience criteria.

Why Choose Nova Scotia?

Scenic Lifestyle: Enjoy coastal living, friendly neighborhoods, and a safe, clean environment.

Growing Job Market: Opportunities in healthcare, education, IT, skilled trades, and more.

Efficient PR Route: Regular draws, minimal processing delays, and priority occupations.

Family Friendly: Excellent education and healthcare systems make Nova Scotia ideal for families.

Welcoming Communities: Nova Scotia has a strong history of supporting newcomers and promoting multiculturalism.

Why Choose VJC Overseas for NSNP?

At VJC Overseas, we understand that every applicant’s profile is unique. Our expert consultants ensure your immigration journey is smooth, efficient, and successful, especially with province-specific pathways like the Nova Scotia Nominee Program.

Here’s how we can help:

Comprehensive Profile Assessment aligned with Nova Scotia’s latest nomination trends

Express Entry Optimization for higher CRS scores and eligibility

Documentation & Application Filing done professionally and accurately

Guidance on Provincial Draws and in-demand occupations

Ongoing Support even after submission, including updates and follow-ups

Choose VJC Overseas to turn your Canadian dream into reality through the Nova Scotia PNP. With the right support and expertise, you can build a future in one of Canada’s most welcoming provinces.

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expresswayimmigration · 2 years ago

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Ontario PNP Invites 1,061 Tech and Health candidates in Express Entry-HCP draw held on 20 July

Ontario PNP Latest Draw Invites 1,061 Tech and Health Candidates The Ontario PNP latest draw held on July 20, 2023, saw Notification of Interest (NOIs) being issued to a total of 1,061 candidates under the Human Capital Priorities (HCP) stream. Invited candidates also required a minimum CRS score of 458-462 – to be eligible for this invitation round. OINP Express Entry Notifications of…

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abhishekdigi-blog · 1 year ago

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Step-by-Step Guide to Canada Express Entry Draw

The Comprehensive Ranking System (CRS) score is a crucial component of Canada's Express Entry system. It is a points-based mechanism used by Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada (IRCC) to assess and rank candidates in the Express Entry pool. The higher the CRS score, the better the chances of receiving an Invitation to Apply (ITA) for permanent residency. This guide provides a detailed explanation of the CRS score calculation process, outlining the various factors that contribute to the final score. ### Key Components of the CRS Score The CRS score is calculated based on four main categories:

1. Core/Human Capital Factors*

2. Spouse or Common-Law Partner Factors 3. Skill Transferability Factors 4. Additional Factors Each category contains specific criteria that applicants need to meet to accumulate points. 1. Core/Human Capital Factors These factors assess the individual's basic attributes, including age, education, language proficiency, and Canadian work experience. Age: - Maximum points: 110 (for single applicants) or 100 (for married applicants) - Points decrease with age, favoring younger applicants. For example, applicants aged 20-29 receive the highest points, while those over 45 receive no points in this category. Education: - Maximum points: 150 - Points are awarded based on the level of education. A doctoral degree (PhD) earns the highest points, while a high school diploma earns the least. Language Proficiency: - Maximum points: 136 (for single applicants) or 128 (for married applicants) - Points are awarded based on performance in recognized language tests (IELTS, CELPIP for English, and TEF for French). Higher proficiency levels earn more points. Canadian Work Experience: - Maximum points: 80 (for single applicants) or 70 (for married applicants) - Points are based on the duration of skilled work experience in Canada, with more extended experience earning higher points.

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societyfolklore · 5 months ago

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Melting

Title: Melting

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Summary: Loki lets you take charge for once and you set out to unravel the God of Mischief beneath you

Word Count: 1.1k (Something shorter this time!)

Warnings: /Explicit Content / 18+, Minors DNI Wax play, slight tempter play, slight power dynamics, teasing, light bondage- No beta read.

Square Filled: C5 - Wax play

A/N: Entry for @thorandlokibingo (whoops tagged the wrong originally lol)

Loki had always been one for indulgence-fine silks, exquisite wines, and most of all, control. He savoured the feeling of power, the knowledge that he could command a room with a single glance, a single word. But tonight, control belonged to you.

The candlelight flickered, casting molten gold over his sharp features, highlighting the contrast between his composed expression and the slight tension in his jaw. His wrists were bound in emerald silk, a gesture more symbolic than restraining, for you both knew he could free himself in an instant if he truly wished. And yet, he remained still, waiting, testing you, measuring your resolve. The weight of his gaze sent a delicious shiver down your spine, igniting something deeper than just desire-a craving for dominance, for the slow unravelling of the God of Mischief himself.

You straddled him on the bed, the air huge thick around you both. He was testing you, waiting to see if you'd falter, if you'd hesitate. But you wouldn’t-not tonight. “Trust me, don’t you?” you murmured, tilting the candle in your grip just enough to let a single drop of wax slip over the edge. The crimson bead of heat tumbled down, landing just above his heart.

You let your fingers trace his collarbone, featherlight touches meant to tease, to build anticipation.

"Such patience," you mused, tilting the candle just enough for the wax to threaten to spill. "But how much longer will it last?"

Loki hissed in a breath through his teeth, his chest rising sharply. His fingers twitched in their restraints, but he didn't move. His eyes, darkened with challenge and something deeper, never left yours.

“Trust is a fragile thing, darling,” he purred, voice like silk unravelling between you. “But I suppose I can be convinced, do this well you might hold the reigns more often.”

Your lips curled into a darker amused smile. You let the next drop fall lower, near the dip of his collarbone. This time, his breath stuttered, his fingers clenching in the silk. The contrast of heat against his naturally cool skin sent a visible shiver through him, the wax cooling quickly into a solid mark against his flawless flesh.

“Oh, my Prince,” you murmured, trailing your fingertips over his stomach, feeling the tight coil of his abs beneath you. Your touch lingered lower, and you couldn't help but notice the way his body reacted, the evidence of his arousal pressing against the fabric between you. A slow, knowing smile spread across your lips. “I think you like this more than you care to admit.”

Your pulse thrummed at the challenge in his tone. You shifted slightly, lowering yourself closer as you let another stream of wax drizzle along his sternum. This time, he let out a quiet, sharp exhale, his throat bobbing with the effort to keep still.

Loki exhaled a low chuckle, though his voice was rougher than before.

“I think you should keep going. See how far you'll take this little game of yours."

You leaned down, letting your tongue follow the untouched skin along the cooling wax, teasing the sensitive flesh beside it. Loki let out a growl, the noise reverberating through his chest, making heat pool between your thighs.

“Minx,” he murmured, voice hoarse, breathless. His hips lifted just enough for you to feel the hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric between you. “You love making me squirm, don’t you?”

You smiled against his skin.

“Just returning the favour, my love.”

“Such a good boy,” you whispered, dragging your tongue over more skin, feeling his muscles quiver beneath your touch.

His body trembled beneath you, a mixture of pleasure and restraint. You let another drop of wax land on his chest, the red substance hitting his chest. Loki groaned, the sound sinful, needy as it ran warm over his nipple.

Your fingers trailed over the wax-marked path, nails scratching lightly.. You let your lips follow, pressing soft kisses along the untouched skin beside the hardened wax, teasing the sensitive flesh near the marks. Loki's breath hitched, his arms pulling lightly against the silk bindings, but he didn't try to escape. Instead, he shuddered beneath you, completely at your mercy.

“And you love it,” you countered, lowering the candle once more, this time letting the wax trail in a slow, deliberate line down his abdomen, stopping before it made it to the fabric of his pants. His entire body tensed, his breath stalling as the sensation took hold.

Loki let out a sharp exhale, eyes heavy-lidded as he watched you.

“You are dangerous,” he muttered, voice tinged with something far too close to admiration.

His reaction made your core throb with satisfaction. You ran lazy fingers over his skin tracing pattered considering the next place to let the wax drip. Your nails pressing just hard enough to send another wave of sensation through him. Loki groaned, hips jerking slightly in frustration. Maybe hoping for some sort of friction from you as you stay atop him.

“Patience, my Prince,” you teased, placing a kiss to his neck before sitting back up. “We’re just getting started.”

You let the wax pool on his stomach, watching as it gathered in a glistening puddle against his cool skin. The sight alone sent a thrill down your spine. Slowly, deliberately, you dragged your fingers through it, smearing the cooling liquid across his chest in slow, deliberate strokes. Your fingers dancing over the ridges of wax and muscle, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. Loki shuddered, his restraint fraying under your touch, his body tensing in anticipation of what you would do next.

Loki’s head tilted back, exposing the column of his throat, the cords of muscle straining as he exhaled a shaking breath. His fingers flexed, his body tense beneath you, and for once, it was him coming undone beneath your touch rather than the other way around.

“Still think I should keep going?” you whispered against his ear, letting your teeth graze the sensitive shell before pressing a lingering kiss just beneath it.

You reached between his bound wrists, tracing your nails over the silk, before reaching the softer skin on the underside of his wrist, feeling his pulse racing beneath. His patience, his restraint-it was intoxicating. He was letting you have this power, surrendering to you completely, and you were determined to make him feel every second of it.

Loki let out a chuckle, but it was ragged, breathless.

“You have no idea how much I want you to.”

You kissed along his jaw, letting your lips linger before you nipped his chin, your other hand trailing lower, teasing, toying, until his breath hitched again, his body arching beneath you.

Loki, the God of Mischief, the master of deception, was at your mercy. And he loved every second of it.

And so did you.

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