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mygnolia · 2 months ago

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LOVE ON A FRESH SLATE ༄ TEASER

༄ SYNOPSIS -› Sim Jaeyun might not have many critically acclaimed films in his IMBD, but if there’s something to change that, it’s his upcoming film, ‘diving in love,’ a fresh summer romance that’s caught the attention of everyone on the internet. The only problem is, no one believes the chemistry will be up to rom-com standards. Maybe he’ll save his career by fake dating his cold-hearted co-star, aka you, to sell it?

༄ PAIR -› actor!sim jaeyun x fem actress!reader

༄ GENRE -› fluff, banter, angst, comfort ༄ TROPES -› enemies to lovers, heavy on the fake dating (i LOVE fake dating) ༄ WC -› estimated 15-20k idk lolz

༄ INCLUDES -› will be added!

༄ RELEASE DATE -› november!

༄ REN SAYS... me when summer also haha get it slate cuz they're actors but also it's e2l so misunderstandings heheheh am i funny (im not) | LIBRARY

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“You’re going to tell me you signed me up for the cult of Scientology, I assume,” You introduce yourself, shaking hands with the man next to Sunoo.

Once again, there is just one empty seat before Jake Sim walks in, out of breath. “Jungwon, please don’t tell me–” He notices you after he barges in, taking in your poised manner as you wait for him to continue. But he doesn’t. The words die on his tongue when he sees you and the same manager from last week's meeting.

“Please don’t tell me what?” Jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow as Jake sinks into the only chair left. The latter shakes his head, not wanting to elaborate any further.

Sunoo sits up, putting his hands together after he finishes the last sip of his drink. “Open up the files, ____.” He motions to the manila folder on the table, and with much confusion, you peel back the cover to find a neat stack of black and white articles.

Jungwon, who you can only assume is Jake’s manager, gets Jake to lean in and read what’s on the pages. “This,” he starts, spreading out the rest of the articles, “is every article in the past week with a negative outlook on whether or not the film will be up to par with the standards of the 2000’s.”

You scoff, eyes trailing over an article with your face as the cover. “Really? People hate me that much?” Your dry humor really only resonates with Sunoo, who sends you a look before trying to organize the flurry of papers.

“I doubt they’ll keep going,” Jake tries, fidgeting with his ring. Maybe his second rich person problem was figuring out how to get the media to like him again if the movie turns into a failure and he has to scour for another source of income.

“Unless I solve world hunger, I doubt the media will turn away from the wine scandal any time soon.” Jake considers dropping out and cutting his losses early with the way you comment on your impending future.

Jake’s manager shakes his head, closing the manila folder and essentially blocking it out before coming up with the worst possible plan in existence.

“You two can fake date. Then, no one will question your chemistry, because they’ll think you’re in love.”

There were only so many things you refused to do in your lifetime, but fake dating your co-star made it to the top of your list in record time.

You shook your head. “Absolutely not.” At least Jake could agree with one thing you said.

The silence almost turns awkward before Sunoo speaks up in agreement, ignoring you. “I like it, it’ll give them a chance to pretend to bond more. Plus, they’re both young and attractive, and Jake is a change of pace from all of her shitty ex-boyfriends.” If Jake still wanted to jump off a building after hearing their proposition, you’d unknowingly want to join him.

You cough in your arm, hiding the embarrassment of his last comment before nodding to look at the actor. “You think just because I’m dating someone, it’ll make the movie more watchable?”

Sunoo rolls his eyes. “I’d much rather watch a rom-com if it was confirmed that the actors found love on set. It’s a good story.”

Jungwon interjects. “Good publicity.”

The actor beside you finally speaks up. “And you want to start this arrangement…when?”

“As soon as possible,” your manager answers, and his response might be some of the worst news you’ve heard in a while. “Hear me out, ‘____ ____ and Jake Sim falling in love the moment they’re casted. It’s fate. They’ve been in love since the beginning. I have to see it, their chemistry will be so good.’ ”

Before you nor Jake are able to come up with a rebuttal, Jungwon adds, “I know both of you can act, and even despite this fake relationship, the movie will be good. But if you can get away from the negative thoughts surrounding the film’s pre-release, it’ll generate so much more hype around it.”

“Better for your conscience, ____. You don’t need angry Sunghoon fans sending you anymore death threats.” If Sunoo kept airing out your problems like that, you’d drag him out by the ear without any fake boyfriend in tow.

You really think about it, questioning if one PR stunt could get you out of the nepo baby ditch you’ve been trying to fight for years; it wasn’t even that you were bad at your job, your mother just never had anything nice to say to anyone. If anything, she was Hollywood’s actual mean girl.

“Fine.” You agree begrudgingly.

Jake on the other hand has no idea what he’s getting out of this. How does fake-dating a girl he’s never liked help his reputation at all?

Maybe it’s because he couldn’t find an answer to it, or maybe Jake was comfortable enough asking something so brash in public. “What the hell do I get out of it?”

You lean back in surprise, not used to hearing him so flustered by something. It was all your fault, Jake thinks as he once again pulls at his hair.

The room is silent as everyone’s gears turn. Jake puts his hands on both sides of the armchair, about to get up and pretend this failure of a ruse ever existed. “If there’s nothing, I’m-”

“Wait,” you cut him off, eyes still fixed on something as you think. It’s good for you, and mainly you. Jake has a good reputation, people love natural chemistry and love a cute couple even more, and your name would be in summer-y titles for the next two months if your scheme worked out. But him?

What could Jake Sim possibly want?

“You want money? Connections? An interview with Justin Beiber?” You try, spewing what every boy would want when they were 13.

Somehow, his head perks up when he hears his favorite celebrity’s name from your lips.

“You could do that?” He asks, bewildered.

“I thought you hated me for having a famous mom.” He stays silent.

“Look, you’re up and coming. If this movie does well, I’ll send a letter to the top producers in the industry and tell them about how stunning of a performance you gave.”

It’s a deal that’s extremely hard to pass on–hell, he’s literally getting paid to act in the movie anyways, so it’s not like he loses much if he says yes. But you’re snarky, and although you’re not outright rude, you never seem to be excited for anything, and Jake has no idea why the mood is so sour when he’s with you.

Whatever, it’s not like it’s real, anyways.

Jake shrugs and pinches his nose bridge momentarily before sighing. “Where do I sign?”

You thought that Jake had been oblivious to the whole thing as much as you were, but it seems like he knew about a hidden contract. Jungwon fishes out a crisp white sheet of paper from his bag. “You know me so well, and I didn’t even tell you anything,” and his response has you thinking that maybe the actor just knows his manager well.

Suddenly, the next year of your love life is signed and tucked away into two identical copies for Jungwon and Sunoo, before the two shake hands and smile. “I’m excited for how things will go,” your manager comments before you two leave.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you let out a long exhale, suddenly finding interest in your manicure.

“You’re annoying, Sunoo. But I don’t doubt you.”

The boy smiles and links arms with you, walking to the entrance of the studio building before you both catch wind of the paparazzi.

A swarm of reporters and cameras catch your casual outfit and sunglasses when you emerge with your manager behind you. Questions bombard you, and you hear amongst the commotion a few reporters who are desperate for their next article to feature you. ‘Is it true that you’ve hated Sunghoon for years?’ ‘What do you have to say about your new film?’ ‘Do you have anything to say about Jake Sim?’

You pause momentarily on the way to your car, reconsidering if you should answer any question. “Me and Sunghoon have never had a disagreement, and I know he appreciated the Prada we sent him a few weeks ago.” Smiling at the memory, you choose to answer a few more questions before you have to go. “As for the new film? I’m fairly excited. Me and my boyfriend are more than ready to be filmed together."

The gasps from the crowd leave you content as you slip into your car with Sunoo. “But don’t tell anyone I’m dating!” You yell out for good measure, knowing that by morning, everything will have changed.

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peachesofteal · 11 months ago

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The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2 - Part 2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel.

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable.

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive.

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles.

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top.

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod.

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.”

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts.

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.”

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights.

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse.

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one.

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind.

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded.

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area.

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling.

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body.

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm.

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and-

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath.

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment.

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding.

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind.

Sleep.

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel.

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened?

And why do you hurt so fucking bad?

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember?

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate?

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no.

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye.

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip.

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down.

Still…

Didn’t Johnny kiss you?

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed.

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?” You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones.

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience.

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

“Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

#peaches writes #dub con #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #Ghoap #soap x reader

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citrus-writing · 5 months ago

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yandere phantom troupe- affection

Yanderes that make it clear they love you- chrollo, pakunoda, uvogin, shalnark

Chrollo-

Chrollo leaves no room for doubt when he looks at you like that- his eyes shine, and there’s always this smile, so soft and adoring. It’s like he doesn't want to look at anything else. His words are so sweet, so kind, almost overwhelming you in how adoring he is. Chrollo is hopelessly romantic- everyday since he took you away has felt unreal. You know you're in a gilded cage, you know it’s wrong to lean into his affections, but you’re so well taken care of that you can hardly remember to worry. You know that before he kidnapped you, you had worries and fears, but now, you can hardly remember them at all.

Pakunoda-

pakunoda’s love for you is apparent in everything she does. From cooking your favorite meals, to handling you with the utmost care, to the way she never leaves your side; watching you with adoring eyes because how’d she ever get so lucky? How could an angel like you possibly exist in a world like this? Different from a lot of the yandere’s on this list, she desperately wants her affections returned, and she will try to convince you that it’s not so bad here with her. And she’s right- you have everything you could ever dream of.

Uvogin-

Uvogin is more physical with his affections, relying much less on words or gifts. He doesnt hesitate to pull you into his arms, almost crushing you in his grip, but he’s always careful with you, and by now the heat and comfort is undeniable. He runs hot, and the home you share is so cold, but that’s ok, cause if you ever shiver he’s there to warm you up. He also spends a lot of time with you, and as long as you're together, he’s pretty relaxed about what you do. You can pick out the movies you two watch, the meals you eat- as long as he can be close to you, with an arm around your shoulders or a hand on the small of your back. It was scary at first, but by now you've found yourself settling into the affection.

Shalnark-

Shalnark lives for flustering you. if you’re shy, that’s perfect- you make it so easy for him, if not- he’s shameless, and he’ll find something that’ll make you blush. His affections are over the top, kisses pressed to every inch of your face, endless words of praise, little suggestive comments whispered against your skin. When he gets you to blush, he’s almost proud. You look good like that, and he likes knowing he has that kind of effect on you. You’ve made a lot of progress since he first brought you here, and now you almost lean into his little shows of affection.

Yanderes that leave you wondering if they love you- machi, feitan, illumi

Machi-

Machi can't express her affection, she can't bear to smile at you, and can barely stand to be around you. If you look at her, she scowls and turns away sharply. Something about your eyes on her makes her feel so weak and shy. Pathetic. She lurks around you constantly, but hardly ever talks to you. You’re free to move around the house as you please, and she watches you interact with your new home. Do you like it? Do you like the meals she cooks for you? If she made you clothes, would you wear them? But she can't ask, because she can hardly even speak when you’re near. The idea of messing things up with you is terrifying to her.

Feitan-

Feitan knows you're miserable with him- how could you not be? You have almost no freedom, limited to your bedroom, your bathroom, and the living room. Some rooms are strictly off limits to you, like his bedroom, the kitchen, and the basement. Even in the rooms where you can wander freely, he’s always keeping an eye on you, waiting and watching. Most days, he avoids interacting with you, and some days, if he’s really overwhelmed, he’ll lock you in your room for days on end. Sometimes, you spend so long in there you worry he’s forgotten you, you worry that you’ll starve to death. He wants you to call out for him- he wants to hear your voice call his name, and beg to be allowed to come out into the rest of the house, he wants you to beg for him.

Illumi-

Illumi keeps you as isolated as he can, with only him to keep you company. Maybe that’s why it hurts so bad that he seems to care so little for you. When you dropped a plate and cut your foot, he only reminded you that you were stupid and clumsy. When you fell down the stairs (you hit your head so hard you can't remember for sure, but you could almost swear a woman’s hand pushed you) he only reminded you that you’d die without him. He never seems to care when you’re hurt or when you cry, he just watches, without so much as a shift in his expression.

#yandere hxh #yandere chrollo #yandere feitan #yandere illumi #yandere machi #yandere shalnark #yandere uvogin #yandere pakunoda #chrollo x reader #feitan x reader #feitan portor #chrollo lucilfer #shalnark x reader #uvogin #yandere #hxh #hunter x hunter

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kisses4reid · 4 months ago

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date night | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you’re late for date night after your own kindness distracts you, but aaron doesn’t care as long as you’re with him.

genre - fem!reader x aaron, reader has a job not at the bau (you can decide), fluffy fluff, date night, selfless reader, angst if you squint really close??

warnings - light swearing, r being rained on, blabbering and near crying, haley doesn’t exist neither does jack

w/c - it’s short. trust me.

a/n - pov: pia asks for requests, starts writing those requests, and instead uploads an original fic. enjoy!!! (this is from a year ago so beware the writing. i just need to upload something before the engagement goes down 😭)

It got dark quicker this evening. A storm was approaching, you could tell by the drizzle outside of your office window. Your colleagues were already packed up, waiting for you, and you shot them a small smile and scurried to pull on your jacket.

In the elevator there was a rumble, a girl you had begun to get close with gripped your arm obviously scared and you looked at her concerned. Her eyes batted at you and all you could do was squeeze her arm in reassurance - you weren’t going to point out her fear in an elevator of office men. She looked great, a nice dress shirt, hair done nicely. You recalled her giddy whispers from that morning, I have a date tonight!

The excitement felt weirdly familiar, you couldn’t put your finger on it.

And although the restaurant she was going to was close by, you still worried about the rain.

See, you often opted for the outdoor afternoon stroll, but now the dark clouds had rolled over and it felt more like walking home at night with no moon as your guide.

You waved your friend goodbye and stepped out from the covers of your office building, into the rainy street with a thin pink umbrella overhead. Your small heels clicked against the roads, your jacket barely saving you from the chill, and you set off to your fiancé’s apartment. Your apartment now, you reminded yourself.

The trees lining the avenues and backroads swayed in the rain that was starting to pound harder, and the puddles you avoided started to get, well, unavoidable. You had always loved rain. Spending the weekend snuggled against the large window of your apartments living room with a good book and a warm drink was one of your favourite things to do, but right now you slightly cursed the storm and wondered why you didn’t check the weather app this morning like you always do.

Your sole focus was seeing your fiancé, and yet when your attention catches on a struggling older lady, you can’t help but step through mud to help.

“Shit.” A shorter lady, maybe in her late 50’s, was pull a wagon of flowers and plants along the sidewalk, and each step she took, the back left wheel would spin uncontrollably or not spin at all.

You scurried over and approached the woman, talking from across the wagon, “Can I help you with this?”

The woman’s face crinkled with relief and she nodded furiously causing you to smile back.

Helping people was your way of paying back the world for how well it treated you (most of the time). Your parents were constantly helping others and you had no choice but to follow suit. And at times your friends had to tell you to calm it down, saying you were being selfless and sometimes even a pushover.

That didn’t stop you.

“Thank you so much! My legs are getting too old for this.” You pulled the wagon up by its back legs and moved with the woman to pull it under cover, closer to what you assumed to be her flower shop. She locked up the store promptly and thanked you again but you stopped her.

She was dressed in a lovely floral dress, a thick cotton apron and small ballet flats and you just couldn’t stand to see that outfit go to waste. You held out the handle of the pink umbrella, rain immediately dampening your hair.

The lady held a wrinkled hand to her heart and placed a red-lipsticked kiss on your cheek. Your heart sank slightly, realising you would not be coming home in the state you wanted to. It wasn’t like Aaron would care, it was your own worries about ruining the apartment’s carpet and probably the elevator too.

You started down the street, not attempting to avoid puddles or mud anymore, just attempting to hide under bus stop covers when you could. The rain was truly heavy now, but luckily you were only a block away from your apartment.

“Hi Aaron Hotchner.”

“Hi Y/n Hotchner.” His hair was combed nicely and he was still in his work suit, he looked stoic and so manly - you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. His large hands took your jacket off and a cheeky smile slipped on his face. “Why are you drenched?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He definitely remembered you taking your umbrella before you left for work.

“Oh I,” you sighed, knowing you would get a small scold for your actions, “I walked in the rain.”

Aaron sighed, knowing you were lying for your and his own good. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You pouted, “I didn’t know if you’d be home.” You moved yourself further down the hall, Aaron trying but failing to keep you back. He clenched his fists as you stopped at the end of the hall in shock, you were supposed to close your eyes.

You held a hand over your mouth and let your eyes wander the room. Your dining table was decorating with candles and petals, there was an amazing smell coming from the kitchen and suddenly you felt the whole world crash onto you. How could you forget about date night?

“Oh my god, Aaron. Aaron, I am so sorry I completely forgot, oh my god.”

Aaron moved in front if you, a small smile adorning his handsome face, “Hey it’s okay, I understand it was raining and your umbrella magically disappeared. I only got here 10 minutes ago, I wasn’t waiting or anything.”

“Aaron I ruined it I mean- Look at me!” You looked down and extended your arms to motion at your whole being. Drenched dress, stuck hair, a shivering disaster.

“What do you mean-“

“My makeup is trashed, and- and my hair. There’s leaves in my hair! I’m wet and now your suit’s wet and- oh Aaron I’m so sorry, I don’t look like a good date at all.” Shoulders slumped, eyes tearing up, you looked down at your feet and felt your heart attacking your ribs.

“You don’t have to be sorry honey. I should be the one sorry, I didn’t think to come find you so you wouldn’t have to walk home in the rain.” He placed two fingers under your chin to lift your gaze back to his, and moved his other hand to pluck out a leaf from your hair.

“I ruined our date.”

“No you didn’t.” Aaron talked smoothly and low, as if you coming home looking like you’d been to hell and back wasn’t concerning him at all.

“Aaron I look horrible.”

“You look…”

“Awful? Hideous? Like Poseidon put me on a hit list?” You brought a hand up to wipe your eyes of slightly smudged mascara before Aaron’s larger hand caught it.

“You look beautiful. You look gorgeous, like always.” His eyes stared deep into yours, his hand squeezing around yours.

“… Thank you.” You sniffled, “You should just break up with me now.”

“Eh, that engagement ring was too much to let you go that fast.” He twisted your hand slightly to smile at the dazzling ring on your left hand. His hand moved from your face down to your waist and leaned in to place a loving kiss on your trembling lips before he caught a glance of something and paused. “How’d you get that red mark on your cheek?”

“Oh- I helped a lady out with her flower cart because it was stuck in the rain. And then I gave her my umbrella, and she kissed me on the cheek.”

He pulled back, sighing, “Y/n…”

“Her dress was very pretty, and I could tell her hair was freshly permed, okay. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same.” You crossed your arms over your chest and smiled cheekily.

“You’re unbelievable.” He couldn’t help but smile, he knew his girl was unforgivably selfless. Aaron took your hand and lead you to your bedroom so you could change for your date.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

He leant against the doorframe, “I meant it as a good thing. Let’s eat, and then we can shower, and you can tell me about your day was.”

You opened your closet and sighed, “I’m really sor-“

“Don’t say sorry. You can apologies but wearing something nice and complimenting my subpar cooking.” He shot you a charming smile that warmed your heart and exited to set up the food, all you could think of is how lucky you were to have him.

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fluff

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luffington · 5 months ago

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love ur fics sm 😄 can i request dom!sanji x reader smut where reader is a strawhat ? i love sub!sanji but there’s suck a lack of dom!sanji in the fandom it pains meee , thank u !!!!

➤ pairing: vinsmoke sanji x afab!reader

➤ word count: 1.8k

➤ warnings: soft dom!sanji, overstimulation, praise kink, oral (f receiving), established relationship, aftercare, fem reader

aww thank you :') i feel the same way!! i wanna step on him as much as the next person but i need a little variety sometimes...

this was honestly kinda hard to write bc sanji would never hurt his partner (especially a fem reader) but pleasure doms exist for a reason! i hope i stayed true to his character and still fulfilled your request <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

The Sunny’s kitchen was filled with the mouth-watering scent of vegetables sautéed with fragrant herbs. A rare fish caught by Brook earlier that day simmered in a pan next to them on the stove. Sanji was completely engrossed in his work, carefully monitoring every component and regularly taste-testing everything. Watching him cook was always fascinating, but you weren’t in the mood that day. You closed the door rather loudly behind you to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“Hello, my love!” His serious demeanor changed as soon as he saw you. “Are you hungry? Sorry, I should’ve started cooking earlier. Didn’t realize how long this fish took to prepare. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, can you please tell the rest of the crew?”

Food was the last thing on your mind. You were needy. It had been almost four days since the last time you and Sanji had sex, and not by choice. Some infamous pirate had pissed Luffy off, and your entire crew inevitably ended up in a heated battle with his minions. The two of you were too exhausted by the end for even a quick fuck. As soon as Chopper finished patching up your injuries, you crawled into bed and passed out.

“Sanji, I’m horny,” you whined.

His face turned almost as red as the blood that trickled from his nose. “...Five. Five minutes.”

He would’ve dropped everything and immediately sprinted to your bed if he had been doing anything else.

Nothing was stopping you from masturbating, of course – nothing except your boyfriend acting like a kicked puppy if he didn’t get to watch. He loved sitting just out of your reach, jerking himself off and watching you touch yourself. Sometimes he gave you instructions. Sanji wanted every ounce of your pleasure to be inseparable from him.

So he suffered through dinner, impatiently tapping his foot and barely participating in the conversation, glancing at you every five seconds. The moment everyone finished eating, he flew out the door with you stumbling behind. Nami and Robin knew to stay far away from the women’s quarters for the next few hours.

Sanji was a menace in the bedroom – in his own gentlemanly way. He would never lay a hand on you that wasn’t filled with love. Nothing in the world could convince him to degrade, restrain, or discipline you, even if you asked for it. He lived to serve and care for others, and he went above and beyond for you. Not satisfied until pleasure burned through you like a cigarette and you were absolutely blissed out, mumbling his name over and over like a prayer.

As soon as you were alone with the door securely locked behind you, the blonde climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately, groaning when you wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer. Loved the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, the taste of his food lingering on your tongue. He only pulled away from devouring your mouth to promise that he'd take such good care of you. He always stayed true to his word.

Strong hands slipped under your shirt to fondle your tits and tweak your nipples, his tongue still shoved down your throat. Sanji gently removed your top, then mouthed along your throat and sternum until his lips wrapped around your nipple. He echoed your moan and murmured, "Make more pretty sounds like that, my angel. Show me how much you need this."

Filthy wet noises filled the room as he intently sucked your hardened bud and rolled the other between his fingers. Hearing you whimper ‘Sanji’ lit a fire inside him and he palmed the growing bulge in his slacks. You ached to feel his heavy cock on your tongue or stretch out your cunt, but your boyfriend had the patience of a saint. You always came first – literally and figuratively.

He slid your pants and undies down your legs and teasingly kissed from your ankle to your inner thigh, leaving behind a few playful bite marks carefully soothed by his lips. Mumbled something cheesy about needing his dessert after a meal, which made you roll your eyes affectionately. The man couldn’t resist his food metaphors.

“Aww, don’t give me that look, darling,” he purred, resting his cheek on your hipbone with a dreamy expression. “Your pussy really is that delicious, so sweet and wet for me.” Pressed a chaste kiss below your navel then dove between your legs without a second thought.

The blonde licked along your slit with the flat of his tongue, groaning deep in his chest when he realized how wet you already were. He would never rush through eating an opulent dessert, needing to take it slowly and savor every little taste. So he focused entirely on your clit, swirling his wet muscle around it then sucking intently. Electric shocks tingled down your spine and heat rapidly ignited your core. Four days was objectively a short time to go without sex, but you were already embarrassingly close after only a few minutes of his mouth on your cunt. You didn’t even need to warn your boyfriend of your impending orgasm – he easily recognized the signs. Knew your body even better than you did.

You came with a cry of his name, your back arching off the bed and thighs clamping around his head. Sanji continued to lick your cunt the entire time, humming happily as he slurped every drop of your juices. After a few moments of riding out your ecstasy, you realized he wasn’t stopping. He didn’t even slow down.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, you tried to protest, though you didn’t actually want him to stop. Your body could only handle so much, especially since your muscles were still sore from fighting the previous day. He paid you no mind, gently assuring you that he only wanted to help you and make you feel good (which was true, but he was also rock hard from tasting your cunt, grinding his hips against the mattress like a horny teenager). Plus, you could use your safe word at any time – he reminded you of that several times a week.

Sanji suddenly lifted your legs and folded your body in half until your ankles were next to your ears, wet pussy on full display. Your boyfriend was absolutely drunk off of your cunt, but he needed to watch your reaction. Seeing your eyes roll back into your skull for him, your cheeks red and lips parted, was absolutely stunning. His nose insistently rubbed against your clit as his tongue shoved its way inside you, lapping at your wet walls. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles and squirmed at the feeling of his beard rubbing at your sensitive skin. Stars flashed across your vision as you came again, legs trembling mid-air.

The blonde hummed happily and swiped a finger through your slick, making your oversensitive body jolt, then brought it to your lips. “Taste.” A gentle command with no real backing, but a command nonetheless. You happily sucked it into your mouth, obsessed with how his visible eye darkened with lust when your cheeks hollowed around the digit. “That’s a good girl. My perfect girl.”

That finger, now wet with your spit, traveled back between your legs to circle your hole. He had a look of fiery determination as he settled his body over you, leaning on one elbow. “I would never let my princess only cum once.”

There was no stopping him until he decided you were satisfied. In a quiet voice, you reminded him that you actually came twice, but it made no difference to either of you.

He expertly scissored your insides apart and massaged your wet walls. You begged him to let you take care of his noticeable bulge, precum beginning to stain the outer layer of his pants – somehow, he was still fully clothed. He shook his head and insisted that he was alright, that you mattered more. You came to him for help, after all.

Sanji only gave you a few minutes of reprieve after your third orgasm, choosing to make out with you languidly and try (but fail) to stop himself from grinding against your thigh, desperate for any sort of friction. Your boyfriend obviously didn’t have the sexual stamina of a god, especially when it came to who he declared to be the most beautiful woman in all of existence. He just liked edging himself.

Tears pricked at your eyes when he shoved his head between your thighs again, scissoring you open to keep licking at your sweet hole.

The first time Sanji made you cry from too many orgasms felt like a knife to his chest. He had immediately pulled his cock out of you and cupped your face cautiously like you were made of glass. Apologizing endlessly, already spiraling into self-hatred and mourning the loss of the best relationship he would ever have. You shook your head and told him they were happy tears. He seemed very confused and no less mortified, so you explained that he was making you feel so fucking good that you lost control of your body. That shut him up immediately.

Sanji paused his movements for a moment to ask, “Happy tears?” You nodded eagerly and he cooed at you, wiping away the droplets and telling you how incredible and beautiful you are, promising that you just needed to hang on a little longer. He would never enjoy seeing you cry, but he trusted that you knew your limits.

You nearly blacked out when a fourth orgasm washed over you, but were pulled back to consciousness by Sanji’s soft lips against yours. He really did let you relax this time, caressing the top of your head and kissing every inch of your face, focusing on the drying tears staining your cheeks. Asked if you wanted a glass of water, a gentle massage – anything. You refused, so he rested his head on your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat slow down and your lungs relax.

“Are you satisfied, my dear?”

“Definitely. But you aren’t.” You frowned, shifting against his clothed cock to feel it twitch helplessly against your leg.

Sanji bit back a moan and forced a gentle smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready for more. I can wait minutes, or hours, or even days – it’s completely up to you.”

You shook your head, smirking as you tugged on the waistband of his pants. “Four days was long enough.” Zipping down his fly at a slow, teasing pace, then lightly rubbing the head of his cock through his boxers. “Stop being so humble and let me suck your dick.”

Hearts filled his eyes. “I would never deny my angel what she wants.”

#sanji is a very good boy i don't wanna mischaracterize him #mine #my fics #request #newnlovesjennie #sanji smut #vinsmoke sanji smut #black leg sanji smut #dom!sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji imagine #one piece x reader #one piece smut #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji

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joelsmochi · 4 months ago

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come get this pollen - joel miller

pairing: beekeeper!joel x f!reader summary: with tommy hosting the bbq this year, that leaves joel in charge of one thing: you. inspired by this tweet | can be read by itself, but if you crave more beekeeper!joel read parts one & two ;) warnings: 18+ bc smut duh, not proofread, reader being reckless & gross in front of Sarah (let us pls remember & acknowledge how unrealistic this dynamic is 🙏🏽🙏🏽), joel is a perv what’s new?, honey play (yeast infections don’t exist in this timeline heheheheheh), brief breeding kink, oral (m+f), overstimulation, unprotected rough piv, pet names, sort of? established relationship, catching people and getting caught, joel "disciplining" you and absolutely slutting you out!!!!!!!, a little bit of corny humor at the end word count: 3.7k a/n: erm... ik it's late but i literally started writing this the morning AFTER the fourth ijbol. final part i will plan for this series for now but i’m always open for requests <3

series masterlist | main masterlist

♡

You greeted Tommy and Maria at Joel's door with smiles and hugs, noticing the pair of chubby cheeks attached to the woman's hip.

"And who's this little fella?" You cooed, reaching for the baby once Maria held him out for you.

"This is Jackson," Maria answers. "He'll be six months in a few days."

With wide eyes you smile at the gleaming baby now resting on your waist, cooing little praises at him and bouncing your body to earn a few giggles. "Well you are just the cutest little thing I've ever seen, yesyouare."

You catch up with the couple and walk around Joel's house for just a few minutes until Jackson started reaching for Maria; you said bye-bye and made your way up to Sarah's bedroom.

"Sarah do y—EW!"

You slammed the door shut and stood frozen in the hallway, ignoring Sarah's protests for you to knock on a closed door next time.

"Sorry, I forget you can't exactly white-sock-it at your dad's house," you begrudgingly joked.

Sarah whipped the door open with a pissed off look plastered on her face, her boyfriend having a seemingly more embarrassed look.

"What do you need?"

With a grimace you asked, "Do you still have that dress that I left over here last weekend?"

She rolled her deep brown eyes, knowing you were just trying to catch her father's perverted eye, and stomped away, leaving her distressed and disheveled boyfriend in your view. He awkwardly smiled and offered a wave that just made you want to crawl into a hole and die, but you opted to stiffly smile back.

Before you could register anything else the dress was being thrown into your face and the door was slammed shut again.

"Bitch," you mumbled underneath your breath as you walked into the bathroom.

You shimmied out of your American Eagle shorts and tank top; slipping into the short dress, you couldn't help but notice how bunched up your underwear looked beneath the fabric. You tried pulling them up higher, folding the hem, hell you even gave yourself the world's deepest wedgie just to fail at concealing the grey article of clothing.

You grunted, really not wanting to wear those shorts again because your thighs seemed to swallow the hems whole every time you sat down, but what else would conceal your seamless panties that decided to appear as granny panties today?

You could ask Sarah for a pair, but that was just weird. You could just deal with it, but you knew you wouldn't stop thinking about it. You could just go commando, but...

"Fuck it," you mumbled when you couldn't think of a con to go without undergarments.

You slithered out of your panties and wrapped your clothes around them, discarding them in Joel's room on your way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Hey, 'bout time you found me," he greeted.

He glanced out of the patio door, sneaking a kiss with you when no one was watching.

"Sorry. I was saying hi to Sarah and Alex," you lied.

"Mmm, you smell good," he said against your lips after catching a whiff of your shampoo. "Look good too. You want somethin' to drink?"

You trailed behind him to the fridge, wrapping your arms around his soft waist. "Yeah, but it's not gonna be in there," you teased.

He chuckled, pulling out an iced tea for you, and not responding. He’s playing hard to get.

“Mm,” you hummed, stepping onto your tippy toes to brush your lips against the shell of his ear. “I’m not wearing any panties.”

He chuckled, poker face in full effect. “Good girl,” was the last thing he said before walking into the hallway towards the backyard, leaving a disappointed you in the kitchen alone.

The day went by slow enough, and yet you were unable to find that window of opportunity to get Joel alone. He was constantly helping or talking to someone — holding the baby so Maria could go get the door. Preparing more burger patties for Tommy. Offering a smile or two to women who expressed interest in him, or a laugh about golf with the men.

You were stuck listening to Sarah’s friends from college rant and rave about… Whatever they were into. You genuinely tried to listen but it was hard to keep up with how many like’s and literally’s and bro’s and duh’s they felt the need to use.

Alex called your name, catching your attention. “Why don’t you and my boy Johnnie hang out sometime? You’re single right?”

A stiff smile tugged on your cheeks, and your eyes flickered to Sarah for help, but her’s only widened slightly.

“Uh, no. No. Not single,” you blabbered. “Sorry.”

“Oh— well, who’re dating?”

“Uhhhhhhhh… He’s an older guy, you wouldn’t really know him.”

“Oh,” Alex said.

“H-how much older?” Johnnie chimed in, looking a little bummed.

You accidentally laughed, unable to contain your nerves. “Like… Fifties,” you said too quietly.

“Huh?”

“Firework time!” Tommy shouted.

“Thank, God,” both you and Sarah said to each other.

“Sorry!” She said after jogging to stand next to you. “I totally fucking blanked.”

“It’s fine,” you exhaled, “I just couldn’t come up with a better lie.”

“Wait, so are you dating my dad?”

You shrugged. “Eh. It’s not official if that’s what you mean.”

“I just wanna make sure I’m not gonna have to choose between my best friend and my dad,” she explained.

“You’d totally pick me though. Right?” You asked hopefully, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Totally,” she repeated with a warm smile.

You looked through the small crowd in seek of Joel, finding him standing on the left side of whatever explosive his brother was packing into the ground. His eyes found yours and he gave you a subtle smile, eyes trailing over the dress that squeezed your breasts and hugged your waist. He shot you a wink before reluctantly looking away, playfully flicking the lighter in his dominant hand.

“Is it cool if I stand go see your dad?” You asked.

“Don’t leave me with them, they’ll ask questions,” Sarah quietly pleaded with a strong tug on your arm.

“Then go with me!” You whispered back. “Tell them you wanna be in the family videos.”

She deadpanned you. “Now you manage to come up with a good lie?”

“Oh! Just do it!”

Your body apologetically moved through the small swarm of people, unsuspectingly making your way over to Joel with Sarah right behind you.

“Light ‘em up,” Tommy told Joel.

Soon after there was that familiar loud whistle rutting against your eardrums, a hissing sound traveling into the sky before the different colors spiraled into a nonsensical design. Kids shouted joyfully, aside from the Jensen’s baby who let out a small cry, and scattered conversation filled the remaining space of empty sound.

You felt more comfortable in Joel’s presence, even when his attention wasn’t completely on you, and even more with your best friend by your side.

You could smell the cheap body spray you picked out for him when you were at Walmart alone a few weeks ago. It took some convincing, but eventually he promised to wear it for you at some point.

It smelled even better being mixed with his musk and pheromones and the layer of sweat he always seemed to have in the Texas heat.

His brown t-shirt proven too tight around his biceps, nestling against his broad shoulder blades with a thin stripe of sweat resting along his spine.

You felt a small gush, suddenly regaining awareness of the fact that you had no panties on right now. Your cheeks beamed a deep red, legs clenching as you tried to smear the precum instead of letting it trickle down your thighs.

Right now your perfectly clean, soft, cum catching Victoria’s Secret cheekies were collecting Joel’s dust in Joel’s room next to Joel’s bed, and you felt absolutely agonizingly exposed even though the only person that knew you were commando was you.

But then Joel’s laugh caught your attention, eyes being drawn back to the curve of his soft tummy, and you decided to use your naked dilemma to your advantage.

But how could we get from point A to point Tease?

“Sarah, you wanna light a firework?” Tommy shouted.

“Hell! No!” She yelled, gaining a couple of disappointed looks from people but a chuckle from you. “I’ve seen people blowing their hands off. Unh-unh, no thanks Uncle Tommy.”

“Agh. Come onnn,” Joel urged. “Don’t be a pussy.”

“Name calling won’t work this time,” she retorted.

“What about’chu?” Joel asked, a daunting look in his dark eyes.

Bend over, give him a little show just to risk losing a limb? Sign me up, you thought.

“Sure, why not?”

You gently pulled the yellow lighter from Joel’s hot hand, brushing your ass against his lower belly as you went to stand in front of him.

“I just light the red thing?” You asked Tommy.

“Yeah, ‘n do it at an angle so you don’t blow your fingers off,” he said nonchalantly.

“O…kay?”

You bent over, slow enough to ensure the skirt of your dress not popping up. You flicked the lighter, forcing a flame to appear, and held it to the red string sticking out.

Just as the string caught the flame, you felt a breeze ghost over your slick cunt, and Joel let out a strained sigh loud enough for you to hear from where you were.

You took a few steps away and backed into Joel’s frame “accidentally”. Everyone watched in awe as the red’s and blue’s filled the black sky for a few seconds, while Tommy set up another firework for you to light.

You bent over a little more subtly, but still enough to give Joel’s something to look at.

After hopping back between Joel and Sarah once the next explosive went up, you gave Joel’s his lighter back and grinned real wide at him.

But when you turned back to face your best friend, all but a pleasant look wore her face.

“You guys are disgusting,” she spat. “Where are your panties?”

“I had to take them off because they looked like a dirty diaper.”

“Ugh, you are so lucky I love you,” she said with her face in her hands.

You kissed her cheek and behaved yourself for a few more minutes, but as the night grew darker the wetter you became. You needed to get Joel alone now or you would become inconsolable.

“Can I light one more?”

Joel nodded, offering you the lighter once more, and Sarah had to fight the urge to throw her hands up in the air.

You bent over once more, this time leaving a hand on the crease on your ass.

Come on, Joel thought, give me a peek of that pretty hole.

And you did just that; while everyone was watching the firework spiral into the air Joel watched you tug your ass to the side, revealing your small hole that glistened.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, fighting the growing bulge in his Levi’s.

You told Sarah to try lighting one, and she reluctantly agreed to; you stayed until it went off before excusing yourself inside the house.

Making your way into to the kitchen, you tried your best to quickly wipe up the mess that covered your inner thighs, but a hand gripped your forearm.

You screeched, but let out a sigh of relief when you saw it was just Joel.

Without hesitation you got on your knees and looked up at him as if you had no idea what you’d done. You reached for his pants, but he swatted your hand away and carried you onto the island counter, pushing your chest to make you lay down.

Before you could question it his lips inhaled your clit, sucking it a little too hard and making your body jolt.

You searched for his eyes, but the darkness in the room swallowed every fine detail you sought whenever Joel landed between your legs, forcing you to just focus on the feeling.

His heavy tongue licked a quick line from the bottom of your sticky slit to the hood of your clit, pulling the little nub into his hot mouth again. Suckling it until you threatened him with a breathy moan.

He pulled back and popped his rough hand on your clit, the stinging causing you to bite your lip and quiet yourself.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he harshly whispered.

“Need you—“

“Shut up,” he repeated firmly before diving back into your heated core again.

You tried reaching to tug at his hair but he swatted your hands away once more; you were blindly searching for something along the slab of marble to grip onto, accidentally knocking over a jar of something sticky.

You frantically tried to put the jar back up but Joel was sucking your pussy to hard and deliciously. Eventually you fixed the spilled issue, recognizing the texture as Joel’s silky honey from his beehives.

“Here,” you moaned, shoving your fingers beneath his swollen lips.

He hummed in approval, slurping up the remnants from your trembling digits. You gripped the edge of the countertop and bucked your hips, Joel’s nose nestling into the throbbing edges of your clit.

Shaking his head to intensify the pleasure, his nose tickled your little bundle of nerves, that orgasmic tingling climbing the edge of release.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby,” you moaned softly.

That made him groan and eat you more sloppy than ever before. The obscene noises between his thick tongue and your slobbering pussy was filthy, disgusting almost.

Your moans were silenced behind your gritted teeth, legs burying Joel’s face deeper into your pulsing core, and he ensured his nose would continue rutting against your clit.

Your cry of euphoria was covered by a loud firework; Joel recognized that moan. You were cumming, leaking juices and honey into his mouth like a dam being released for the first time ever.

He lapped it up like a thirsty dog, not even savoring the taste before he found the urge to start slurping up your already sensitive clit again.

You whined, arms flailing in a poor attempt to remove his head.

It hurt it hurt it hurt so fucking bad.

But you couldn’t fight the grip Joel’s had around your thighs. The more you wiggled the more sensitive you became. You whined, accepting your fate and allowing your legs to tremble against his touch.

He made you endure the worst of it: the pain that swallowed you whole and antagonized every nerve ending in your body.

You’d fight harder if it were anyone else, but Joel elicited submission from you. You’d have him punish you anyway he deemed justified if it meant you got to have him.

You gurgled on your saliva, choking on your strained moans.

It was only until he’d had lost too much oxygen that he finally alleviated you from your suffering.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees,” he huffed, dropping his pants and boxers to his ankles.

You eagerly listened, feeling his hand grip your hair and force your eyes to look into his.

“Little fuckin’ slut wants to tease me in front’a everybody? Hmm? You thinks it’s okay to spread your fuckin’ pussy like that?”

He found the glass jar that was coated in the sweet nectar, holding it up in the moonlight for you to see.

“Look at the mess you made, baby,” he said in a mocking tone. “Gonna have to clean it up.”

Joel tipped the jar, pouring more than enough honey all over his painfully hard cock.

Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the corners of your lips at the mere thought of the taste.

“Clean it up with your mouth for me, baby… Hands behind your back.”

You listened to his instructions, waffling your fingers together against the small of your back and curling your tongue against his velvety mushroom cockhead.

The salty taste made you moan, eyes narrowing up at his own. The slight glow of moonlight showing off the teardrops of honey dangling from his girthy shaft.

After you licked your yearning lips you took him into your mouth, gagging at the sickly sweet taste of too much honey.

“Ah, baby,” he whimpered. “Want me to fuck that cute little face a’yours?”

“M—mmhm,” you gurgled.

“Yeah?”

He held your head in place and thrusted into your drooling mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat with a lack of mercy.

Tears stung your eyes, excessive amounts of honey glossing over your trembling chin.

“You poor thing. Was that pretty little pussy dripping for me all day?”

You gurgled again, gagging on your hums of confirmation, nodding your dizzy head as he continued to fuck your face.

“Awwwh, such a needy little slut,” he cooed. “Need this cock deeper in that mouth, hmm?”

You nodded even more assuringly than before, moaning around his thick shaft. You blew bubbles of spit around his cock, keep his cock slippery enough to glide down your throat.

His breath was shaky, both hands now on your head, and soon after your throat was being stretched beyond its limits. You gagged around him, tears now flooding your puffy cheeks.

You reached up to give his heavy balls a decent tug, then squeezed them until you received a moan from his strained throat.

He growled when he yanked his cock from your throat, holding your head steady as you worked your way through your coughing fit.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he moaned throat gritted teeth, squatting to be eye level with you. He smacked your jaw once, twice, three times before licking the honey and tears from your face, sloppy kisses being shared occasionally. “Such a fucking good little slut.”

“Just for you,” you whimpered.

“Oh really?” He laughed cruelly. “That why you were showin’ the world your pussy?”

“Jus’ you,” you assured.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that.”

He stood you up and bent you over the counter, stretching the fabric of your dress from pulling it up to hard.

He pinched your pussy lips and leaned onto your back after you screeched.

“Who else you tryna show this pretty little thing to?”

“Ah— fuck. Ju— you, baby. Just you.”

Joel released his grip on your cunt, pushing his tip between your sore lips. Despite the slight burn, he filled you quickly and smoothly.

“Look at this fucking pussy,” he moaned. “Mmhmm. Fuckin’ swallowing my cock like a good little thing. This pussy’s all mine?”

“Yes!” You cried out.

Your weight rested entirely on your stomach, feet swinging in the air, head bobbing and hip painfully bumping into the corner of the surface.

“She’s all mine, baby?” He asked again.

“YESyesyesyes!”

His wrapped a hand around your open mouth, muffling your cries before they turned into screamed.

“Good job, babydoll,” he smiled. “Good job. You’re doing such a good job takin’ this fucking cock.”

“S’big,” you muffled into his clammy hand.

“Goddamn. I got you this wet, baby? Oh, you musta been clenching those pretty legs all day thinkin’ ‘bout me.“

You knew he was talking to himself, using you like a fucktoy. You loved when he fucked you hard, opposing his usual routine of being gentle. He always made you feel good, but when you really needed it he knew how to wear you out.

And it was dumb, really — him forcing you to keep quiet though if it were even just a little more quiet outside everyone would hear the sound of your ass clapping against his tummy pudge.

But it wasn’t about being quiet, it almost never is. It was about keeping you disciplined.

Joel’s thick fingerpads found your clit, pinching the sensitive nub before rubbing big, deep circles.

You clawed at the hand on your mouth, legs looping around his tense hairy legs to balance yourself.

“Yeah, take that cock, slut,” he whispered against your earlobe. “Actin’ all desperate for me. Gonna fuckin’ breed this perfect pussy.”

His filthy words made your knees buckle and your eyes roll back. Your gummy walls clenched around him, thick white cream coating his honey drenched cock.

Joel could feel your clit throbbing between his clumsy fingers, he watched your back rise and fall quickly as your pussy squelched around him from your orgasm.

He gave you one final hard thrust, a rope of his cum shooting into you, his cock throbbing, begging for more release.

“Tell me it’s mine,” he said tiredly.

“It’s all yours, baby. Fu- it’s yoursyoursyours! I belong to you. I fucking belong to you, my pussy was made for you!”

He started thrusting somewhere in the midst of your cock drunk babbles, grunting loudly as he filled you with his warm seed.

“I’m all yours, Joel,” you repeated softly as he finished.

“Yo, Joel, what the— fuck?!”

You ducked below the counter and held your mouth while Joel fixed his pants. Of all people that could’ve walked in it had to be his brother?

Actually, the more you thought about it the better it seemed.

You stared up at Joel’s blank expression and rolled your eyes before standing up.

“Sorry,” you grimaced. “I stole him. Just tell everyone I got sick and he was making sure I was alright.”

“Why is their honey all over the fucking counter?!” Tommy asked as he picked up the sticky jar.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Joel said.

“No,” the younger man said in disbelief.

You both just stared at him and shrugged.

“How long were we gone?” You asked after Tommy finished berating Joel.

“Like twenty minutes, why?”

“We said we were gonna try that one position next time,” you reminded Joel.

Joel frowned for a moment before remembering the complicated position you stumbled upon a few days prior. He looked to Tommy with a smile.

“No,” he firmed answered.

Joel sighed turning back to you. “Tomorrow, baby.”

“Fine. I’m gonna go get a shower.”

You gave Joel one last kiss and said goodnight to Tommy before heading upstairs.

“Sarah’s best friend?” Tommy questioned as the two men made their way back outside.

Joel, who was still wearing that big smile said, “I know. She’s hot, right?”

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller blurb #beekeeper!joel

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galene-gothic · 6 months ago

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𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back !! I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

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︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ Why do/would people love you for you ? ꒱

You’re a very “all or nothing” kind of a person. The way you are and live also have something youthful and innocent about them. You don’t let the world taint you and stray you away from who it is that you truly are. The dreams and values that you had as a child still exist within you, you also haven’t let the passion for life that you had as a child die down. The way that you carry yourself, the things that you say and do, you are so refined and elegant with it. Despite, your youthfulness and passionate personality, you’re very wise, mature, elegant and self reliant. You’re someone who people literally cannot take their eyes away from. There’s just a charisma and aura that radiates off of you that makes people think that you’re too good to be true, it also makes their hearts race, cheeks flush and breaths freeze. You’re naturally a grateful and abundant person who seems to have it all even if you don’t due to your ability to keep your heart content. You also don’t seem to need people and when you do love someone, it’s because it’s a choice. You have a fire in your heart and it warms even those around you. Despite your fiery and passionate personality, you’re also grounded and intelligent. You know how to strategise and have your way in life but you don’t seem to use it for ill motives. You get away with things a lot, people wonder how you seem to do so. You’re witty, know just what to say and are a crazy risk taker. I’m pretty sure at some point, you’ve done things for the plot but it was still fueled by genuine passion and excitement. I feel like this pile is likely to have a high libido. The high sex drive could be saved up for your partner (or someone who deserves you) due to how much you seem to prioritise yourself. You’re quite strategic with how much you tell others and how close you let them get to you but it might be so natural to you that you’ve never even really thought about it. It’s a good trait though, don’t worry. You’re seductive in more ways than one - the one who seems to have it all, the one is grounded yet exciting, the one who is passionate yet realistic, the one who is loving yet strategic about who you let close to yourself, so on and so forth. How could someone not love you? Those who you get vulnerable around and those who you have talked to about your childhood or early life trauma with seem to love you a lot. They know just how pure hearted you are despite going through all that and they can’t help but love you.

You approach those who you let into your heart and life in a very childlike fashion. You aren’t immature but you forget about staying cautious, you choose to just love them wholly and purely, like a child, willing to forgive and understand. With the way you love, it’s good that you’re careful with who you choose to truly love. You’re quite independent and know how to keep yourself content but still have a genuine and strong desire to give out and receive love, to share your life with your people. I’m tearing up, this reading might not seem that deep to you but as the reader who feels energies, this is really touching. You’re still very emotionally driven despite having grown up and experienced your own fair share of sad moments. You are the type that people would fall in love with every single day. There are also times when you gain an interest that you get hyper fixated on which is very cute for others to witness. The way you talk with that spark in your eyes, people love it, they hold you so dear. You’re really charming and have your way with words. Half hearted loving doesn’t make sense to you. You might be one of those people who don’t understand the concept of “you can find other people attractive while you are in a relationship because it’s fine as long as you don’t act on it” because you’re fiercely loyal and devotional on a soul level (same mate same). You have a big aura, integrity and heart xD. You might also know how to be physically affectionate (at least with those you hold close to you). You’re self confident and funny. There are times when you get angry or sulky but it’s in a playful and childlike way, and it’s really cute xD. You carry a lot of lessons within you and are a really fair person. Due to how much integrity you possess, you’re accepting of when you did something shitty. You’re like “well, what I did was in fact wrong.” You understand how cause and effect work so when you do something and have to deal with the consequences, you usually do pretty well. I genuinely feel like this pile has had to be hurt again and again to let go of someone or maybe even multiple people though. You have likely learned your lesson though. Due to this, you don’t blow people’s mistakes out of proportion unless they outright betray you, it also makes you accepting of others flaws and shortcomings. You know how to look at things objectively and treat people well despite their mistakes. However, due to your strong sense of integrity, there is still a line to that. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 🫶🏻.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ Why do/would people love you for you ? ꒱

You have an ability to feel content regardless of the circumstances of your life is something that makes you incredibly beautiful. You’re someone who self reflects and tries to change your ways when change is needed. You do not jump into attacking someone when they try to talk about how your actions affected them. You’re self aware and your focus is on yourself instead of hating on other people. You have gratitude for what you already have instead of choosing to stay in an energy of lack over what you do not have. You are deeply reflective and are able to accept yourself, others and situations as they are. You understand your responsibilities and see the positive aspects of negative situations while trying to make things better. You’re focused on your emotional growth and try to leave the past behind you. You have integrity and self respect, you understand that by staying stuck on past people or situations, you will be denying yourself the love and life that you deserve in the present and future for love and life that aren’t even there anymore. You give yourself another chance at life, you give yourself another chance to love and not only that, you give people the chance to create a space in your life and heart. You aren’t the type of person to be like “you never get over your first love” because you understand how disrespectful it is to your future partner(s) and also to yourself because when you say things like that, you’re suggesting that a person who has already left your life is unforgettable while the person who is currently loving you and is sticking with you cannot live up to your ‘first love’. You have a zest for life and try to seize opportunities. You often forget just how beautiful you really are. You tend to feel insecure and inadequate at times but you somehow still have a superiority complex. You don’t mind rebelling for a cause and you probably have something that you always go back to (not a person) but something like a calling, a certain lifestyle that just calls to you. You can be really brutal if things come down to it, please never don’t forget your power. You also have strong morals and ethics. You’re someone who carries yourself with integrity and respects those around you. There’s something that seems extremely sharp and cunning about you.

You’re someone who’s able to remain impartial and are the type to be like “that sounds like a you problem” to your own friends when they say that they want honest advice from you. You often have control over your emotions and have a cold aura but despite this, you know how to love people through actions. There’s something about you saying things in a very cool and genuine manner as well even though it might come off blunt, it’s still polite. You’re someone who doesn’t accept unreasonableness in any form. You have a moral code and ethics that you’re choosing to live by. There’s also something very detached and passive about you, as if you’re not there. You’re someone who introduces others to different perspectives because you literally get downloads. You might be sitting there, slurping your noodles but suddenly have an epiphany which helps you connect dots from the past and live life better in the future. You just seem so wise and also have great discernment. You’re someone who goes “she likes him” simply by hearing about the way ‘she’ was acting towards or talks about him and it turns out to be true. You’ve had to sacrifice a lot in order to get to this point. At this point, most things that scare you thrill you even more. People often don’t understand why you do the things that you do but somehow, that’s exactly what works out for you. Also, you have the ability to leave things as they are. At this point, you’re not someone who is trying to complete chapters, give out, receive closures, etc. anymore. There are times when you pause to do something and people think that you’re directionless but you pop out with success, like a whole new lifestyle. People undermine you while still being so threatened by you, I truly don’t know how to describe this energy. There’s something odd and special about you. It’s like, you have a different level of consciousness which allows you to be ahead of your time. There are times when people think that you’re insecure, directionless or go out of their way to make you feel lower just for you to develop a different life and identity for yourself after collapsing. You might have been attracted to the first pile. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 🫶🏻.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ Why do/would people love you for you ? ꒱

You’re very in touch with your shadow aspects which also allows you to not often point your fingers at others and that is a very beautiful quality to have. You’ve had to deal with a lot of shame. In fact, you might still be dealing with it. You’re someone who confronts your fears in order to grow. You also encourage others to do the same. You have the ability to connect deeply to people and things which can be good or bad depending on how extreme it gets. You’ve had major breakthroughs and your life experiences seem to be a source of change. You experience major growth and change ever so often. You’re either enslaved to the demons in your mind (unnecessary shame, guilt, etc.) or you were but now, you’re freeing yourself or have already managed to do so. Despite, all the betrayal that you’ve faced, all the illusions that trapped you, all the negative thoughts and feelings, you have made empowering progress emotionally and mentally. Even, you yourself have made many mistakes and have done immoral things but you’ve learned. You’re extremely passionate and ambitious. You also know how to make a stable environment for those who you love. You have a grounded, realistic and practical way of loving others. You feel the need to take the responsibility for everything and everyone. You’ve dealt with a lot of negative things and attachments disguised as positive ones, you’ve learnt and grown from them. A lot of your relationships have proved to be false which is saddening. However, the lessons that you’ve learned from them are tangible and invaluable to you. You’ve made a lot of poor choices, felt trapped, dealt with the consequences of your actions and have had major reality checks. You’ve had a lot of humbling experiences in your life (or one major one) and you’ve dealt with it pretty well. I’m being called out to tell you that you NEED to have a purpose in your life, no matter how little it might be, don’t procrastinate, don’t be overly realistic but don’t be unrealistic and a daydreamer with no action either. Your life has led you to a point where you’re not desperate anymore, you’re not easily fooled in terms of emotions.

You learn from past failures and continue persisting and moving forward to do and become better. You are resilient and are emotionally intelligent and rich due to the experiences that you’ve had so far. Your life, though chaotic seems to have been really eventful. You influence others due to this, you’ve developed a profound depth and have lived as so many different people. You’ve done many people dirty and you’ve had many people do you dirty as well, due to how many different identities, you’ve taken on, people think that change, growth and acceptance is possible for them as well. People learn from you and explore their own emotional depth. You often feel like people don’t deserve you due to your depth (you choose not to think that way because you’re quite loving) and feel like they don’t understand you at the level of depth that you understand them. You have a focused nature and certain values that can be considered sort of conservative while still you being an open minded person? You carry yourself in a humble yet expensive manner. You’re also quite confident. You’re consistently if not constantly changing and evolving. You seem to be indifferent to the changes that happen around and within you, as if they came easily to you while still being authentic enough to seem as though you had to grow into those changes. Due to how humble you are, how playful you can be and times when you act like they’re better than you? I’m not sure what it is, possibly people pleasing? There are times when people think that you don’t finish what you started, you are dumb, boring, obsessed with shallow things, etc. That you’re a daydreamer who spends more time contemplating than actually doing. That is far from the truth, first of all, you have strong integrity and are really headstrong. You are self confident and can be quite ruthless when the need be there, not just ruthless on other people but also on yourself. You look at the bigger picture and have trustworthy judgements which make you an excellent entrepreneur. You can focus and persevere, and these are all things that they see once you stop being humble and choose to not give them your time of the day 😻.

You also have the ability to be a bit hardcore. When you work, you work too hard and when you play, you play too hard xD. Also, your ability to become apathetic or atleast act like it? The way you’re able to not let your work get too much for you sometimes and know how to have fun without a care in the world while still managing to complete your duties is enviable. You also have it in you to take a lot of responsibility, definitely an admirable quality. Also, you are good at saying no, learning how to do so or seem like you are able to say it quite easily. You’re also able to express enthusiasm, excitement and joy in a very grand manner without caring about what others think. You have movements that are quite slow naturally even though when you get excited, you tend to gain really vivacious and loud movements. You try to and seem to have a life outside of your phone. You value quality time without phones (probably one of your pet peeves is having your date be on their phone instead of having a damn conversation). People envy how every hurt and negative experience of yours helps you find solutions to a better life. You seem empowered and have something raw and authentic about you. People can tell that you’ve experienced a lot and you’re still healing, and that only further adds to your charms. You have a new perspective for which people of the past truly envy you. Your self acceptance and how you overcome obstacles one after another. How could you possibly not be loved and admired? You are funny, passionate and have your way with words, you had to learn your way around routines and discipline due to how pulled you felt towards the new passions that you used to gain but at this point, you’ve learned how to focus and consistently work on either one passion or multiple passions at the same time without quitting. You still want to have fun and walk in the sun (and rot in bed) so there are days when you choose to act like a loser, HOWEVER, THAT’S NOT WHO YOU ARE!! These qualities add more humanness to you. You’re likely someone who doesn’t want to work a 9-5, even if you do, you still want to have something of your own and live life passionately. I wonder if all the piles are interconnected. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 🫶🏻.

#intuitive readings #pick a card #paid readings #tarot pac #pac #pac reading #pick a deck #astro notes #astro observations #pick a photo #astrovations #pick a picture #astrology #pick a card reading #pick a gif

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stxrslut · 6 days ago

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NOTHINGS GONNA HURT YOU BABY ꣑ৎ

summary; a thunderstorm leaves you waking up terrified in the middle of the night, and so you’re ever so loving boyfriend must come up with a fast way to soothe you from all your panic and fear

content; thunderstorm, thigh riding

if there’s one thing about you, it’s that you hate thunderstorms. in your opinion they’re the worst occurrence of nature to ever exist. sure there’s hurricanes and tsunamis and earthquakes, but thunderstorms, they’re worse.

you’re crying, sobbing even. curled into john bs side, you try your absolute hardest to tune out the incessant pummel of rain on the window and the loud booming noises that come down to you from the clouds above.

he’s right beside you, your only anchor. his hand glides up and down your back comfortingly and every now and then he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead and murmur a sentence of quiet reassurance.

his speaker in the corner of the room plays a queue of melodies that you both listen to at bedtime to help wind down your minds. currently it plays the soothing tune of “nothings gonna hurt you baby” by cigarettes after sex, a personal favourite of yours.

john b is humming along to it, you can feel his chest vibrating against the side of your head, it’s a grounding sensation in a moment of such overwhelm. the feeling of his warm skin moving against yours is perfectly stimulating.

you just can’t calm down, your breath stays shaky and the tears keep falling. the jagged inhales you take are causing pain in your chest which only incites more distress to your body.

john b can’t bear to watch, he’s spent the last five minutes trying to think of something he can do to calm you down. and at the moment, there’s only one thing that comes to mind, so he might as well try.

“hey, come on baby, come here.” he speaks so softly as he pulls your body to lay more easily on top of him. you don’t protest, not feeling energetic enough to do so as you sniffle and murmur in ever so slight confusion.

he adjusts your legs so that he can slot one of his built thighs between them, you can immediately feel the gentle pressure it puts onto your pussy through your panties. you moan involuntarily, though it comes out all shaky and messed up due to your crying. john b smiles down at you and rubs your back, “yeah, you feel that? why don’t you focus on that for a little while? good girl.”

it starts off with his guidance, his hands on your hips, helping you rock your hips around and grind yourself on his leg. of course, eventually you take over. your movements become sporadic as you give in to the pleasure and allow yourself to forget the fears of the noises that currently dominate the world just outside your window.

your hands come up to grip onto his beefy arms, his hands rest on your hips, providing help when he feels you need it. your cheek is all pressed up against his chest and your breathing is now heavy for a different reason.

his leg is so perfect to grind on. thick built muscles, it’s full of them, they’re almost padded with a small layer of fat that adds to the heaviness of him. it’s like a perfect concoction. when he was made by whoever makes people, his thighs were created with clitoral stimulation in mind.

it goes on for minutes, blissful minutes. he steps in to help again towards the end, aiding your movements to allow you to really feel your orgasm as it washes over you. you moan out loud, continuing to press yourself onto his leg until the pleasure is fully ridden out.

when you’re finished you’ve tired yourself out so much that you no longer notice the thunderstorm. you find yourself cuddling up into john b's body once more, your eyes starting to drift closed as you tune into the melodic rhythm of the music that still plays on the speaker. your breaths even out with john bs and before you know it, you’re falling right to sleep against his body.

#john b prompt #angel!reader #john b concept #john b blurb #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b obx #obx smut

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multifandomme · 1 month ago

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Do It For Me

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha receives a punishment for her bratty behaviour following her return from an undisclosed mission.

Genre: Smut, (daddy kink, pet names, spanking, hair-pulling, power dynamics, choking, fingering, strap ons, bratting, light humiliation, mentions of injury), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 3.4k.

This piece is for day 4 of kinktober under the 'bratting' prompt. This is an updated and edited version of a work I originally posted in 2022.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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The uncertainty that plagued you during Natasha’s absence was something you couldn’t quite grow accustomed to, something that always left you wondering what version of Natasha would be gifted back to you upon her return. Often times, she would be relatively unaffected, perhaps even entirely unscathed but there were instances that would render her unrecognisable, weak.

The only comfort you could find amongst the solitude had existed in the form of crossing days off the calendar with a hopeful smile, reassuring yourself that she could hold her own, that she would come back. And thus far, she always had.

Beyond the window, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky in terracotta. You hummed softly to yourself as you observed it, your lips pursed around the coffee mug in which you held. It was far too late for caffeine, but Natasha loved the fragrance of it and you wanted to welcome her home with all of the cosy comforts that she enjoyed.

Tea lights decorated the coffee table, a few rose petals scattered for good measure as you waited, the time painstaking as it passed by. Light vanilla wafted up from the kindling flames, the discernible fragrance of home permeating, the absence of its missing piece felt tenfold when you examined the emptiness of the room. Bereft of Natasha, her fiery hair and husky laughter, your home lacked any true sentiment at all.

A familiar thud pried you from your state of longing, the front door swinging open gradually until Natasha crossed the threshold. Tousled red tresses were the only thing you had the chance to catch sight of before the woman launched at you, her legs wrapping tightly around your waist as she clung to you.

“I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her words muffled lightly due to the way her mouth pressed closely against the material of your shirt. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Words felt insignificant when your actions seemed to transcend them, every curvature of her body felt against your own as you held the crown of her head protectively. The remnant scent of her perfume invaded your nose as you kissed atop her hair, the world halting in its tracks for a while. Softly, you returned her feet to solid ground, gentle fingers taking a firm hold of her chin as you inspected her face for any sign of injury.

It was commonplace after a mission and a routine you were not prepared to abandon despite Natasha’s complete agitation with it. After being away for so long, the redhead always grew impatient, more needy than usual, solely focused on tugging your hand to lead you to the bedroom. But you knew better than that, knew that Natasha would rather silently bear the pain of her bruises than risk being denied of your touch.

From the exterior, her facade of health seemed to ring true as she stood with a seductive smile, her nimble fingers drawing aimless patterns against your sternum. Her tongue swiped against her lips as she stared at you, unrivalled passion shooting across her irises as the blackness of her pupils bled outwards.

With the waistband of your jeans she guided you to the sofa, moving to perch upon the arm of it, her sights set on reaching up and grasping you by the collar. Your body all but scorched as her gaze studied every inch of you, stilling when she noted the bulge shrouded in your jeans, maintaining the veneer that she had only just noticed its existence.

“You have something that belongs to me,” Natasha whispered, sultrily, her eyes never straying from boring into your own.

Her intentions were not lost on you, her eyes wide and feigning innocence as a means to begin her attack on your self-control. Succumbing was not an option, at least not yet and once she arrived at this unfortunate reality, a short burst of air exuded from her nose in frustration.

Patience was a virtue that seemed to elude Natasha and tended to be the origin of all of the punishments you had ever needed to deliver. Your inaction only seemed to feed into her misbehaviour, her fingers making quick work of your zip as she attempted to grasp ahold of the hidden appendage.

Abruptly, you forced her backwards, observing with a mischievous smirk as she toppled down onto the sofa below, her body jolting lightly against the pillows. A grunt emanated from her, accompanied by an irritable sigh as she accepted her defeat, her eyes sparking with a familiar zeal as you moved to hover over her.

Dwindling patience saw her hands clawing against your back, coaxing you nearer until you collapsed on top of her, your bodies sculpted together as if they were at one.

“Ah!"

Immediately, you retracted from your position, Natasha scrambling to bite away the pain that glued brazenly upon her face. Of course, she batted her bodily reaction away without a thought in the hopes that you hadn’t noticed. But nothing escaped you.

“Not so fast,” you asserted, eyes narrowed as you tore away at the veil of her deception, her little smile fast fading as she acknowledged your blossoming suspicion.

“I’m fine!” She exclaimed, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared at you, though you knew her anger was only a result of having been caught out.

You shook your head avidly, a series of scoffs escaping you as you expressed your disappointment. Softly, you leaned down, towering over her sitting position upon the sofa and placed a feather-like kiss to her lips, almost rendered mindless as you recalled the feeling of them. Hastily, you gathered your strength and retreated, your thumb brushing across the plump surface of her pink lips and basking in the docility that clouded her features.

Almost as soon as you had touched her lips, you redirected your attention elsewhere, lower territories, gaze reclaimed by the buttons of her shirt. With a hand on each side of the garment, you yanked once until it split, amusement plaguing your face as you watched the buttons fly through the air in dispersal. Natasha gasped loudly, teeth marks etched firmly into the flesh of her lips as she regarded you with lustful eyes, though once you noted the condition of her skin, your jaw flexed at its own accord.

This had evidently been one of the more taxing missions, the ones that left scars that were both mental and physical, destined to persist. Natasha’s gaze fell to the floor, averted and ashamed at the bruises that you had exposed, blemishes of blue and purple scattered along her porcelain skin. The redhead’s hand bolted outwards, taking hold of your wrist as she silently pleaded with you, consumed by her urges that remained ignored, unsatisfied.

“Please,” she breathed, guiding your hands to ghost her bra-clad breasts, her flesh jutting out of its confinements and momentarily distracting you. “I want you… I can take it, Daddy.”

The sudden use of the title did not go unnoticed, though you couldn’t quite tell who she was trying to convince of her readiness.

“Princess,” you warned, soberly. “Let me take care of you first.”

Without giving Natasha a chance to formulate an inevitable rebuttal, you exited in the direction of the kitchen to retrieve all of the ice packs you had amassed over the months. And when you returned to tend to Natasha, you were shocked to find her sprawled out awaiting you, the remainder of her clothes abandoned beside her as she tried to will you into temptation.

“Ice play?” she mused, sarcastically, adjusting purposely in order to flash a glimpse of her exposed pussy. “You know how I like that, Daddy.”

Luckily, you had expected some form of clever remark, rolling your eyes for a brief moment to reiterate the fact that you were unimpressed, unfazed.

“Behave yourself,” you cautioned, enlisting a serious tone as Natasha tilted her head slightly to gauge its validity.

You had hoped that her stint of silence had meant that you had won, but when that cunning smirk took possession of her features you knew that she had no intention of stopping until she arrived at a boundary.

“Or what?” She countered, coolly, her fingers caressing languidly at the skin of her breasts, daring to pass over her nipples that immediately grew rigid in response. “If you’re not going to touch me then you won’t be able to punish me either.”

Retaliation was futile in a case like this and would only add fuel to Natasha’s blazing fire. Instead, you paid no mind to her words or her indecency, merely pressing the ice pack to each bruise for a few seconds before discarding it for a new one. The frozen cubes melted in rapid succession, perhaps from the additional heat Natasha was radiating through arousal alone, her body shifting uncomfortably beneath the biting temperature that you had exposed her to.

Winces emitted through gritted teeth, only to be hidden away once your eyes flitted over to meet hers, her expression quickly replaced by an obvious exasperation at your expense. After successfully reducing the sting in the top half of her body, you travelled lower, a particularly gnarly bruise on her thigh capturing your attention. Natasha tensed up and at first, you had assumed it had been due to the pain, that was until you saw her stifling a devilish grin.

“Open your legs,” you commanded, your own patience thinning as her defiance persisted. “I won’t ask you again, princess.”

“But you told me to behave,” Natasha reminded, cleverly, accommodating the ice pack with the tiniest of movements, the space she permitted barely an improvement from before.

The skin of her thighs was painfully soft below the pads of your fingers, a sterling effort required on your behalf as not to act on the impulses that corrupted your mind. And it was as if Natasha had heard the mantras of self-control chanting in your brain and had ultimately decided to inflame the situation with fervency, her hand finding home in the valley between her thighs.

“Mhmm, Daddy,” she drawled, raunchily, her eyebrows sewn together as she basked in the pleasure in which she indulged, her eyes fluttering in sporadic intervals to assure your continual observation of her. “You feel so… good.”

In that instance, Natasha’s petulance had rendered you speechless, blindsided by her motivation to undermine you in every way imaginable. Outspokenness had always been an admirable part of her personality, but this had reached a newfound level. Perhaps bending to her will on one occasion would teach her the valuable lesson that you had attempted and failed to do so many times before.

In any case, it was worth a try if not solely to watch that smug smile dissipate into stark fear of what was to come. If she wanted for you to forsake your compassion and neglect her pain, then you would gladly bestow upon her the consequences.

“Have it your way,” you conceded with a passive shrug, watching intently as you saw the confidence drain from her face, an audible gulp escaping her.

Natasha paused her deviant ministrations, the silence so deafening that it was unnerving as she stared at you. A few seconds passed by and still, you failed to act, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on her, to catch her completely off guard.

“Turn over,” you growled, carnally, the pent up frustration within you now brimming over and calling you into action.

Despite knowing that she would ultimately cooperate with your command, you did not offer the chance, flipping her over forcefully as you pressed her firmly against the sofa beneath.

“Wha-”

Her words were obstructed by the weight of you against her back, her lungs deflating in an instant and stealing the words from her mouth. Your lips inched in, expertly brushing aside the messy red locks that veiled her ears with your fingers as you prepared to inform her of her fate.

“If you want to be a brat,” you spoke, softly, in contention with the roughness in which you handled her body, “then I’ll be sure to treat you like one.”

Natasha’s avid grunts of protest fell on deaf ears, though your warnings did nothing to curb her disobedience as she thrust her hips forward in the hopes of attaining contact with the sofa below. Noticing this, you instantly reached out to grapple with her hips until you had raised her ass into the air and successfully prevented any pleasure from finding her. The firmness of the denial saw Natasha’s head twisting to the side, fighting desperately to throw pleading looks in your direction to no avail.

“Please, Daddy,” she begged, breathlessly, pushing her ass further into the air and subsequently closer to your hands. “I’ll be a good girl for you, I promise.”

“Awww, my princess,” you cooed, condescendingly as you gently combed your fingers through her vibrant hair. “Now you want to behave?”

The redhead nodded with unparalleled enthusiasm, despite her movement being partially obstructed by the grip you had unleashed upon her. Either way, backing down did not even occur to you, not when Natasha had conducted such a valiant effort in rebelling. Your fingers halted their tender touches against her hair, instead opting for a vice grip, yanking harshly from the roots.

“Mhmm, Daddy,” Natasha groaned, her affinity towards pain slowly emerging after weeks of dormancy due to her time on the mission.

“I asked you a question, princess,” you reminded, delivering a particularly sharp tug upon her hair that dragged her head backwards, a whine eliciting from her parted lips.

“Uh, yes,” she panted, the raspiness of her voice only increasing as you pulled harder. “I want to be a good girl, Daddy!”

You hummed thoughtfully as if you were wrangling with whether to believe her or not, though the decision had already been solidified. Natasha would pay the price and it would cost more than she had initially prepared for.

“Hmmm,” you deliberated, your hands moving to grope the cheeks of her ass. “I don’t think that’s the truth now, is it, princess?”

An answer was unnecessary, the palm of your hand administering a powerful blow to her right cheek, only to be balanced out by a second one that fell upon the other. Luckily, there were no prior bruises there so you were free to explore and punish as you deemed fit. Natasha shifted below you, trying unsuccessfully to push herself up onto her elbows as a means of support.

You laughed aloud, amused by the spectacle she was providing you with and inwardly knowing how much she enjoyed to be humiliated, reminded of how needy and pathetic she was in the position she had willed herself into. Her growing arousal was only reiterated in the way that her pussy glistened from behind, your fingers briefly dragging through the slick that had accumulated there.

“Fuck,” she choked, instinctively arching her back as a means of capturing your digits and manipulating them to land inside of her to no avail. “I need you, Daddy.”

“Naughty girl,” you reprimanded, your disapproval only emphasised by another blow thrashed against her cheek, your handprint remaining even once you had retracted it. “So needy, aren’t you?”

And again, you continued your torturous ministrations, your fingers collecting the liquid Natasha had expelled only to mock how wet she had become from your exertions. This time, you sank one finger in to the hilt, a shiver passing over the entirety of her body as she grew accustomed to the meagre intrusion, still desperate for more.

For a moment, it seemed to pacify her until she began an overt attempt at rocking against it. You entertained it for all but a moment, basking in the sheer frustration that she was displaying, the contact nowhere near enough to amount to anything substantial. With no prior warning, you removed yourself from her, hoping that the tease that you had unleashed upon her was enough to tempt her into relinquishing.

“Turn over and face me, princess,” you instructed, a gentleness returning to your voice having been deficient for a short while.

Natasha twisted immediately and when her eyes met yours, you were met with apparent glassiness, as if the woman was close to tears. The bratty glint that sparked within her irises earlier seemed to have melted away as she settled her back flat against the sofa as requested.

“What are you going to do to me, Daddy?” Natasha questioned, meekly, her teeth tugging at her lips as her mind ran wild with possibilities, her thighs subsequently squeezing together.

“Oh, that depends, princess,” you smirked, sickeningly, only encouraged further by the unabashed curiosity that oozed from her. “If you’re going to be good, then I’ll give you want you want, hm?”

Natasha was frantic in her agreement, nodding wildly as she reached out her hands in search of the nape of your neck, pining for closeness, intimacy.

“I’ll be good, Daddy,” she vowed, sincerely, her expression contrite as she recalled her earlier misbehaviour. “I’m so desperate for you, please.”

Satisfied with her words of assurance, you clambered to ghost her frame once more, only this time you settled square on top of her, your thumb brushing the length of her cheek. A genuine smile saw her teeth emerging from behind her full lips. Your hand cinched around her throat and squeezed moderately, observing as her eyes rolled backwards in response, followed by an almost maniacal smirk.

“Is this what you want, princess?” you asked, though the answer was starkly obvious from the expression which had suddenly possessed her features. “You want Daddy to fuck you like this?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Natasha gushed, her mouth ajar as she basked in the pressure your hand was providing around her neck. “I want it so badly.”

In haste, you rid yourself of your jeans and threw them carelessly beside the sofa, pledging to collect them later. The strap on that you had priorly concealed beneath your clothing now springing free of its shrouding, your hand guiding it to align with Natasha’s wanton pussy. The redhead gasped audibly as you entered her, the invasion taking her by slight surprise as she moaned on continuum.

Your hand found permanent residency encircled around her neck, occasionally delivering a little squeeze to remind her of the power in which you held over her. Her jaw slackened, shaky breaths falling effortlessly from her as her eyes entered a trance-like state, unblinking and ascending. You slammed into her with recklessness, slowing only to press the pad of your thumb to her clit and observing as she thrashed her head from side to side in response.

“Oh, Daddy,” Natasha squealed, your name ringing out like a mantra and the only thing that she had the strength to scream out, her mind occupied solely by you.

“Cum for me, princess,” you instructed, sensing her reaching the threshold as you leaned in to suckle a purple bruise into her skin. “Do it for me.”

You showered her in praise as she came undone, her eyebrows sewn tightly together as she shrieked mindlessly. It was a beautiful sight to see and one you knew you would never grow tired of. Delicately, you brushed away the loose strands of hair from her face, sizzling heat radiating from her cheeks as you felt them. Silence persisted for a few moments, a sheepish grin forming upon Natasha’s face as she stared up at you.

“That was…” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “Quite the welcome.”

Chuckling, you slid to reposition behind her, your arms enclosing around her as you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

“That’s what happens when you misbehave,” you informed, your lips pressed to her bare shoulder as you basked in her warmth.

“If I’d have known sooner I-”

Sensing a bold remark was about to make its debut, a hand immediately found its way between her legs, watching as she recoiled from the overstimulation that incurred as a result.

“Pull a stunt like that again,” you warned, the sentence concluding with a soft slap against her pussy. “And I’ll make damn sure that the next mission goes ahead without you.”

She turned suddenly in your arms, her interest piqued and a familiar excitement filling her orbs once more.

“And how would you do that?”

“Oh, sweet girl,” you cooed, your hot breath against her ear. “You can’t fight anyone if you can’t walk.”

––--– ♡ –––--

#natasha romanoff x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow #mcu #bottom!natasha

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shycoconutt · 3 months ago

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you, more than anyone, know that satoru isn't invincible. as his closest friend, you see what those who call him “the strongest” miss.

they don't see him remove his blindfold at the end of the day, rubbing at his tired eyes. they don't notice how he spends each evening at jujutsu tech, staring out the window, watching the sun dip behind the mountains. they never question why his infinity is always active, even when there's no immediate threat. they don’t feel the tension in his muscles that lingers hours after he meets with the higher-ups. they aren’t aware of his sleep schedule, where he barely gets 1-3 hours of “rest” each night. they can’t imagine the countless scars he'd bear if not for his rct. they don’t realize that the only things he consumes are sweets to dull the constant ache behind his eyes, not food to nourish his body.

but you notice, of course you do.

after a late-night doom scroll, your eyes light up when you see an advertisement for a cooling gel eye mask. after purchasing one in a pretty pink color and storing it for 24 hours in the office freezer, you hold it behind you as you stroll casually into his room.

“toooooruuuuuuu,” you sing as you walk up behind his desk.

reclining in his chair, he lets his head lull off the back so you can see his face.

“i know you have something behind your back, weirdo. you can’t hide it from me, remember?” he says as he points to his eyes behind his mask with a goofy smile.

“tsk, just go along with it for a second, will ya?” you scold playfully.

not without a dramatic sigh, satoru folds his arms in front of his torso. suddenly, you feel the air around you still, signaling to you the drop in his infinity as he lets you have your way with whatever you plan on doing.

with one hand, you carefully peel off his mask and toss it on his desk.

“keep your eyes closed, okay?”

“mmmmm”

the short walk from the communal fridge to his office was enough time to freeze your fingertips. bringing the gel mask in front of you, you do your best to stretch it as flat as possible before placing it slowly on his face.

“oh! what the- it’s so, ah, cold!”

you smile, tugging the elastic band around his head to hold the mask in place as he jerks around in his chair. your hands naturally fall to rest on his shoulders to steady him in place.

“toru!” you laugh, “it’s okay, just give it a second to get used to it!”

slowly you feel his tense shoulders begin to relax under your palms. as if on instinct, you start to work at them, kneading the muscles between your fingers. satoru’s face flushes a soft shade of pink, probably a reaction to the harsh temperature on his skin.

“huh,” his voice soft, “this actually feels pretty good.”

“of course it does,” you scold, “things like this exist for a reason. it’s called self-care, toru. it’s this wild and crazy idea where you take care… of yourself.”

“sounds like a gimmick.”

a smile creeps to your lips but quickly falls flat. satoru is always dismissive about his health, putting on a playful tone with his signature smile. but it’s a mask covering the ugly truth–there’s no time for self-care when there’s no sense of self. self does not exist in a world where he is merely a pawn–a very powerful, unforgettable pawn–but one nonetheless. he is an atomic bomb in society’s arsenal, labeled the strongest with the security that there is nothing, no one that rivals his ability. we are all protected while he suffers, out there alone in scenarios absent from our nightmares, as none of it is fathomable.

no one cares.

no one knows.

they are all so ignorant.

we are all so ignorant.

“OW,” satoru gasps, snapping you out of your spiral.

“oh my gods, i’m so sorry! did i hurt you?”

he puts on a show for a few more seconds before relaxing again. “not really, but i can read your thoughts and you were starting to get a little intense there.”

bringing your hands off of him, you fold them in front of you defensively, “you cannot read my mind.”

satoru rolls his head side to side on the chair, teasing you. “yes i can, and i appreciate you worrying about me.”

you huff out the air in your lungs as he peels the mask off his face, gets up, and turns to stand before you. his size makes it difficult to take him all in at once–his proximity to you causes you to crane your head upward to look him in the eyes. the skin around them glistens subtly from the condensation there, making them reflect even more intensely somehow. getting lost in his eyes isn’t just poetry, the blue pools of infinity stare right back at you, so deep and real.

it’s selfish to think you have any ownership, any authority over them. but in this lifetime, you’ll be damned if anyone dares to take them away from you.

“but i’ll be okay.”

his tone is so soft. as you search his face for any sign of fallacy, you see now that there is no mask��no fake smile. his infinity remains down, confirmed by the hand you place above his heart.

“you promise?” you question in a whisper.

suddenly, but not unexpectedly, his hand is placed above yours.

“cross my heart,” he swears, lifting your hand with his own to draw an x over his chest.

humming in response, you bring your eyes to your intertwined hands. it’s difficult to not pry more, but, unfortunately, you know this has to be enough.

“in all honesty,” you begin, “i wish i could kidnap you to a remote, faraway island. i would chain you up in bed, feed you warm meals every day, and force you to get a solid eight hours of sleep.”

satoru’s laugh rings throughout the room.

“sounds kinky,” he muses with a wiggle of his brow.

sighing dramatically, you continue “but, alas, i cannot. so taking you to my place tonight will just have to suffice.”

“huh?”

“fine, fine, i won’t chain you to my bed. but i am making you takoyaki and tucking you in at eleven.” with his hand in yours, you begin to lead him out of his office. quickly, he is in your step by your side, a wide grin on his face.

“you know,” he tempts, “you can chain me to your bed if you want to.”

“don’t tempt me, boy,” you play along, “you know how i can get carried away.”

somehow, the shiver that escapes satoru’s body is even more intense than the chill of any ice-cold face mask.

a/n: i wrote this sometime after i read the thirty-three questions gege was asked about satoru gojo and was sad to learn more about his daily life. our overworked king deserves a little break, yeah?

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #satoru #jjk fic

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witchthewriter · 2 months ago

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𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, childbirth, miscarriage, wounds etc.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

Important side note: House of the Dragon has portrayed Rhaenyra's Ladies in Waiting as her maids of some sort. Which isn't the case at all. It's different in the book. But one character that had complete devotion to Rhaenyra was her cousin, Elinda Massey (who we do see in the show).

Ladies In Waiting (LIW) had a wide range of responsibilities to their allocated royal. The LIW's were women of noble birth who traditionally attend to a queen or princess in a royal court. Some key responsibilities of ladies-in-waiting include:

Providing companionship and conversation to the royal lady

Assisting with daily tasks like dressing, grooming, and etiquette

Serving as intermediaries between the royal and others at court

Maintaining the royal wardrobe and other personal belongings

Chaperoning the royal lady during public appearances and events

Relaying messages and requests on behalf of the royal

・Therefore, you would be very close to Rhaenyra. Most definitely friends; giggling while you brush her hair, talking about court gossip. A reprieve from responsibilities and able to bask in girlhood.

・You would also be best friends with Elinda Massey. Her soft nature won you over instantly. She was too kind for this world, and you were scared that everyone around her knew it. So you took it upon yourself to keep an eye out for her.

・You had grown up with Rhaenyra; as one of her cousins as well, you had been placed as one of her first Ladies in Waiting.

・And wherever she went, so did you. When Rhaenyra moved everyone to Dragonstone; you didn't mind it. The harsh stares of the other court members were starting to grate on you.

・Their comments about finding you a husband and how you were too late in the game for a good match. You were on your last tether.

・But you knew you would follow Rhaenyra wherever she went; you helped raise her sons. Sitting with them near the fireplace, with their figurines and fairytale books.

・You were there when Rhaenyra had her miscarriage and you believed it came on by the shock of not only her father's passing but by the news that Alicent had declared for Aegon.

・You helped dress her as she stood stone-faced, only able to receive light and quick touches. Anything else, she shrugged off.

・You saw her crowned by Daemon and knelt with pride at your new Queen.

・During the oncoming war, you were asked to do things no Lady in Waiting would be asked to do.

・But you said yes to all of it. For you had seen the treatment of women in Westeros, and you believed Rhaenyra would be able to help - more so than her brother.

・You were friends with Dyana, and still held anger and resentment towards Aegon - even if he was unaware of your existence.

・But you do all this because you know Rhaenyra will look after you.

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iraprince · 5 months ago

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That chart of your GW2 ocs has compelled me so much. what is gw2. how do you make gay plants in it

guild wars 2 is my favorite mmo of all time! it's free to play, tho if u ever do end up paying for the expacs/living world seasons and stuff they all have flat costs, no monthly subscription ever. (this is what i really like about it, bc games w subs stress me out... if something has a sub and i don't play every day i feel like i'm wasting money or something lol vs gw i can fall off the wagon for weeks/months and no harm done)

ANYWAY our gay plants are one of the playable races -- they're kind of gw2's version of elves, loosely, but they're called sylvari and imo they're much cooler. rather than being "born" they just Wake Up as fully formed adults from the pods of a magical tree and gain mmmmost (but not all) of their consciousness/general understanding of the world from a shared dream that contains the memories and life experience of the sylvari who have come before them, and at the beginning of the plot sylvari as a people have only existed for like. ~20 years, which i think is a really, really compelling hook. also i'm being serious and textual abt the gay thing, arguably the most central sylvari npc is a lesbian and her relationship w her ex is plot important, one of the starter missions u can choose as a sylvari centers around helping a gay couple and the dialogue is Really Insistent abt not letting it be interpreted as "wow they're good friends!!" etc etc

there's also an Evil Faction of sylvari called the nightmare court who feel the dream is overly controlling/sanitized and want to "liberate" sylvari by balancing out the experiences contained in the dream w more negative and painful ones instead -- in-game more often than not they're written pretty flatly as cackling puppy-kicking supervillains but i think they're really interesting lol, a huge chunk of my + marina's ocs are either current or ex nightmare courtiers (including merrit and glyndwr!)

okay wait wait wait im getting distracted and infodumping u can learn all this stuff yourself by getting into the game. gotta rein it in. uhhh let me leave u w screencaps of a bunch of our ocs so u can see some character creation options bc they're so cool

also hey furries: fuicking excellent beast race with close to no sexual dimorphism.

(the one on the left in this pic is an m model and on the right is the f model. the main difference between charr gender models, literally, is how fluffy their tails are. charr fucking rule)

#gw2 #play gw2. play gw2. play gw2. [grabbigng your shoulders and looking directly into your eyes] Play GW2

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cocoakrispis-blog · 3 months ago

Text

THE INTRODUCTION OF (Y/N)’S PERFCT LIFE

pairing ~ ellie williams x fem! reader

summary ~ we get a little bit more insight on the life that (y/n) considers perfectly perfect.

warnings ~ not much its just background and introduction, weirdo boyfriend, homophobia

wc ~ 2.4k words

SERIES MASTERLIST

getting good grades and impressing your teachers by beating the stereotype of cheerleaders being dumb, showing your boyfriend just enough attention to keep him out of your hair but not cross any of your boundaries, and going to church to affirm your faith in the lord were almost all of the things that kept you waking up in the morning with a smile on your face.

you loved all of those part of my life with my whole heart but the thing that truly made you feel one hundred percent you was cheer.

your team was your true home.

the sisterhood required to be such a successful cheer team was intense but also very rewarding. you were extremely close to all of your teammates and always made the effort to personally get to know all of them.

you guys were required to trust our fellow teammates to toss us into the air, hold us there, and then catch us so that we could perform gravity defying tricks.

it took a lot of strength to be able to do that and you know firsthand how strong each and every girl on your team was. i mean from the muscle definition on all of them it would be difficult to deny the physicality they all had.

the pure freedom you felt as you were soaring through the air was for lack of better words, euphoric.

it took a different type of trust to allow yourself to be catapulted in the air like that, but it felt so good to be supported by girls you knew you could rely on wholeheartedly.

along with trusting your teammates you all also had to trust your own bodies which required you to take care of what our coach always called ‘our temples’.

eating properly and staying in shape was a big part your, but you couldn’t be mad about it. being healthy allowed us to do mesmerizing flips and splits or contort our beautiful bodies into gorgeous silhouettes.

maybe the best thing about cheer is that the benefits of it didn’t only exist on the fields where your team would perform but also off the field. when you are a cheerleader you would always have someone to talk to or spend your time with.

the cheerleaders all had their own lunch table where they were given the privilege to spend quality time together. it might have been your second favorite part of the day, to be surrounded by so many beautiful and talented girls just filled me to the brim with a special feeling you only got around them.

in the halls there was always a pretty girl to compliment your outfit or gush over your new trendy makeup. no one was better at noticing the smallest differences than your teammates.

or in class where you knew you would have someone to sit next to and share notes with.

even school parties when you were a member of the team, no matter how lame they were would be fun because you always had someone to dance the night away with when your boyfriend didn’t want to.

the weekly slumber parties were the best way to end your week because it just felt like pure girlhood. sleeping next to the girls you trusted the most in the whole wide world always gave you the best sleep of your life.

so yeah being a cheerleader was great.

but of course there was more to the perfect life you were blessed with.

you were lucky enough to have a boyfriend who was a football player. super popular super handsome and super well… boyfriend!

you two were just the picture perfect relationship.

holding hands in the hallway as he talked about his latest football game that of course you attended since you were a cheerleader. walking to the field with his letterman draped around your shoulders while he continued to talk about football. oh and of course sitting in his car while you made out with him in between more talk of football.

you loved him very much and he loved you the same.

you were also very active in your church to which you held very near and dear to your heart. it was only right that you thanked and gave praise to the god that had given you such a perfect life.

the cross necklace you always wore being the best symbol of your devotion.

and to top it all off you had a wonderful relationship with my mother and my father.

because you were their only child allowed them to focus all of their time and attention on you. even though that meant they were a bit more hard on you you knew they loved and cared for you very much.

today was another one of the perfect days of your perfect life except this one was a little bit more special. your cheer team and the football team was heading to a far away football game. since both of you and your boyfriends coaches were such big supporters of your relationship they allowed your boyfriend to drive you there.

“aren’t you so excited about the first away game of the season i’m so pumped to watch you play and show off the new cheers me and my girls learned this week.” you smiled to yourself fondly as you remembered the hours of practice you and your teammates put into learning this new cheer.

“yeah babe of course” your boyfriend muttered under his breath.

you frowned at your boyfriends clear disinterest at your words and decided to keep quiet in case you were bothering him.

after a couple moments of silence you looked up to see that the yellow school bus you had been following closely behind was now no where to be seen and you were now in a very familiar area.

“hey baby i can’t see the bus anymore are we supposed to be going this way.” you begin to twiddle with your red and white pom poms as a wave of confusion and anxiety washed over you.

the frown previously on your face came back in full force whenever your boyfriend ignored you and silently tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

soon after your boyfriend pulled into the driveway of your home and parked his car.

“let’s go.” your boyfriend speaks to you for the second time today.

his tone of voice give you no opportunity to argue and you nod before walking behind him to your front door with your pom poms being held tightly in your hands.

before you made it to the door you quickly glance behind yourself and see an unfamiliar van with the words ‘true direction’ on it.

as you open your mouth to ask your boyfriend about it you hear the door open and he stares at you as if expecting you to walk in first.

you gulp at the look he gives you and cautiously walk in the door to your on home.

once you fully enter inside your eyes easily land on the large group gathered in your small living room with concerned looks on their faces. your brows furrow in confusion at the oddly thick atmosphere surrounding the room and you allow your eyes to sweep around the rom to properly take in the guests.

some of your parents, closest teammates, and even a couple of your boyfriends friends were there. the most odd character out of all of them was a man you had never seen before in a blue sweatshirt and matching shorts with a shirt that said ‘straight is great’.

“is there something wrong?” you immediately blurt out into the room.

no one responds to you and the room stays dead silent.

“hi sweeties why don’t you have a seat.” your mother was the first to break the silence, almost making you flinch.

almost as soon as your mom said that the unfamiliar man began to speak. “hello (y/n) my name is mike all of the most important people in your life have gathered here today to have a conversation with you and i am here to help assist them with it.”

you give the guy a slightly weird look but nod before having a seat on the couch that was facing all of them. once you settled in mike spoke up again to jump start the conversation.

“would you link to start us off peter?” mike signaled to your dad who had been completely silent up until now.

your father cleared his throat before straightening his collar and beginning.

“(y/n) dear everyone that is here in this room loves you very very much however more recents we have been concerned about some of your specific behaviors and we are tarting to become worried you are being influenced by a certain lifestyle and we are starting to worry there is a chance that you may be…” your dad slightly trails off at the end but your mom quickly finishes his sentence.

“we think you’re turning into a lesbian!” your mom exclaims but makes sure to whisper the word lesbian as quietly as possible.

your jaw drops at the accusation and you very quickly force your brain to formulate a response.

“me a l-lesbian?” is the only think you manage to think of in retaliation.

“to start you’ve been forcing us to eat this weird vegan food.” your dad holds up a plastic bag with some of the half eaten tofu you had for dinner the night before.

“i-i’ve just been trying to eat healthier for cheer and-

your argument was cut of by your mom forcing one of your pillows into your face while pointing at one of the parts of the flower design the pillow had with a disappointed look on her face. “you have vaginal decor all over your room.”

“you’re looking too hard at it it’s just a f-flower-” you shake your head vigorously while avoiding the burning feeling behind your eyes.

“instead of pictures of guys in your locker you just have pictures of female models your locker.” one of your friends from cheer holds up one of the posters of a girl in a bikini taken from our locker.

“i like looking at them so i can see what i can do to make myself prettier-” you feel your eyes start to water.

“you don’t even like to kiss me let alone go further than that with me!” your boyfriend speaks up while his friends beside him nod in agreement.

at your boyfriends words you quickly turn away from the group to hide the tears now trickling down your cheeks .

after everyone had said their peace mike once again us something to further the conversation.

“you know (y/n) i used t consider myself gay too when i was younger but now im an ex-gay and it was all thanks to an amazing place called true direction.” mike looks at you to say something but continues when he sees you still looking away from the group in shame silently. “true direction is a camp a little ways from here that helps teenagers like you figure out how to overcome the homosexual influence in their life and find the real straight them!” mike finished his little speech with a cheerful speech.

your eyes widen when you actually process what he had said and instantly snap your head back to the group to give them a betrayed look.

“you’re sending me away?”

everyone in the room slightly shitss uncomfortably at your question but gives you a sympathetic smile.

“no of course we’re not sending you away sweetie it’s not at all permanent.” your dad attempts to reassure you.

“yes exactly once you graduate the camp and they fix you we’ll come and get you so you can come right back home safe and sound!” your mom tries her best to sound slightly enthusiastic.

you shake your head in defeat and drop your face into your palms to muffle your sobs.

“i don’t want to go please don’t make me i’ll be normal just don’t make me go there!”

after your family manages to get you to calm down they get you to pack your things and soon after you your mom and dad pile into the car to begin your journey to the true directions camp grounds.

as you drive of you don’t even bother to look back at your teammates and boyfriend due to the fact that the current betrayal you felt from them ran extremely deep.

the ride was pretty unenventful and soon you arrive at your destination.

once the car came to a complete stop your parents very eagerly jumped out of the car leaving you to finally have a small moment to yourself.

“why me?” you grip the cross necklace hanging from your neck tightly.

“come on (y/n)” your parents call from outside the car.

you give the pendant one more squeeze before reluctantly grading yourself out of the car.

when you leave the car you follow your parents as they walk up to a large pink house.

before you make it all the way up to the door a blonde woman in a pink suit and a taller man in a tank top and shorts exit the building and walk towards your family with a large smile on their faces.

“hello there you must be (y/n) and her family my name is mary!’ the woman looks at you with kind eyes.

“yes that would be us!’ your mom responds enthusiastically.

you stay silent and somewhat zone out as they begin talking about how the camp and visitation would work.

“we love you sweetie.” your mom pulls you into a tight hug.

“we promise we’re doing this from your own good.” your dad pats you on your back before they both walk off to reenter their car.

you watch as your parents make jock work of pulling out of the entrance of the camp and drive away with two short honks.

“come on (y/n) let’s get going now.” mary pats you on the shoulder to shake you out of your trance.

you nod silently and follow the woman through the doors to the place where you wold be spending the next couple months of your life getting fixed.

a/n: holy moly this was a lot. my original plan was to make this 5 chapters from all. steps but i feel like the beginning is united a bit detached rom that so i decided to make this it’s own chapter. so sorry if this is shit i a so tired i may go back into to edit it later on. this is not going to be word for word at orf and the movie but it will be very similar with slight changes. my masterlist got a lot more attention than is as expecting so i rushed to whip up something that you guys could read while i plan out the rest of this i really hope this lives up to your expectations!!

taglist: @st4r-b3rries @dollyvuu @lvlymicha @jellyfishrnice @machetegirl109 @smiths-fan--13 @elliewilliamssrealgf @ravyaryn @yuhgetintoonit @nelzooo @luvmily @dearestdolly444 @venuzasmuse

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie willams x reader #ellie #ellie williams tlou #but im a cheerleader

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citrinae · 3 months ago

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blue, bluer.

sanji x reader

contents; sanji closes himself off when he realises your closeness is getting more serious than he thought. angst, implied trauma & past abuse, blood & injury, confessions. written with this reader in mind, ofc could be read as a stand-alone. afab!reader, wc: 1.6k. i swear i will soon start writing for other characters too but this idea gnawed at me for some time.

masterlist

“Salt,” Sanji’s voice was a lax monotone as he spoke to you. Your eyes were fixing a spadefish fluttering its tail past red coral. “That’s the heart of each dish. It’s the one thing all chefs can agree on, despite our pride, or temper. Of course, it all comes down to quantity in the end, add too little and the dish is stale, lifeless, add too much and you’ve got a cardiac anomaly right there on your plate. Even still, imagine how much a cook could do with salt brought by all the waters in the world.”

Light crossed the glass before you in kaleidoscopic strokes of blue; the spadefish fired itself off at the sight of a bigger creature. Sanji pushed the unlit cigarette from one corner of his mouth to another. Idly your fingers were fiddling with some strands of his hair, listening to him go on and on about this place he held so dearly in his heart that his eyes matched the shine of the aquarium. He was able to do it for hours, that you were aware of. Not that you minded one bit. You had a dream of your own, which you’d only begun to take seriously aboard the Sunny, where everyone pushed for the unachievable. And now, with steam hovering from the cups you left untouched on the floor and Sanji laying his head on your lap, it was your dreams that painted the room in shades brighter than you remembered.

“Has it ever crossed your mind that the All Blue doesn’t exist?” you found yourself saying.

He looked at you with unfaltering optimism, mouth hitching into a smirk. “It does exist.”

“Sure,” and you meant it. “Hypothetically speaking. What if you were to find out it doesn’t?”

Sanji shrugged a shoulder.

“I’d invent it,” came out of him with ease. You could tell he’d never given too much thought to this; Sanji was a dreamer by nature, starry-eyed and pitiful, and even when proven wrong, to him the idea of impossibility would only mean that he had to work harder. It was something you didn’t have, but inexplicably felt drawn to, that would rearrange your mouth into a smile when spotted in someone else.

You felt Sanji’s hand run a brief touch across your arm. “And you?”

“Me what?” you watched him through a curtain of perplexity.

“Tell me more,” he hummed. “About your dream, mon coeur.” He had good man eyes and a convincing edge to his tone, like a priest attempting to drag out a confession on an uneventful Sunday. A minute passed with you averting the gaze, staring instead at the aquarium extending on the walls of the bar, at the fish and algae and anemones billowing in a universe of their own making.

There was laughter climbing in your throat; you weren’t any good at this. Nonetheless, you let your head fall against the backrest of the sofa, hoping the words you were looking for stayed scribbled somewhere on the ceiling instead.

“Years back”, you cautiously started to pick them, one by one.

ii.

There was a fight. You weren’t there to witness, but a knot formed in your throat when three of them—exhausted, covered in cuts and dirt—climbed aboard the ship, carrying a mass of blonde hair on their shoulders. What the hell did you do? your lips split, salt spreading on the tip of your tongue, and your chest was heaving in a disjointed rhythm. Chopper tended to his wounds first. Nothing fatal, he assured you. But he would still need plenty of rest.

You asked then when would be the right time to go see him, still reminding yourself how to breathe. From the beginning you were aware that piracy didn’t only mean booze and discovery, but violence and cruelty and having to see a close one soaked in their own blood. Yet no one prepared you for this, for something unshown to climb down the depths of your imagination and numb you at your fingertips at the pace of an electrical shock.

Chopper brushed the wooden floor of the deck with one of his hoofs. “I’m sorry.” It was hesitant, withdrawn. “There was one thing he requested, before losing consciousness.”

You slammed the door to the sleeping quarters with weakened legs and a headache.

iii.

Sanji recovered quicker than anticipated, and soon enough you began to see him again hovering about the deck and hallways of the Sunny, going in and out the kitchen like a perturbed spectre. Speaking to him would mean forgiveness, and he couldn’t gather the nerve to approach you, so days passed by with both settling to the uncomfortable silence—clicked tongues, avoided glances, meals taken at eerie hours.

One night you caught him taking a smoke at the railing. Sleeves rolled to elbows, loosened tie, staring blankly at open sea. Your jaws tightened, your stomach clenched by the memory of the blood pooling Sanji’s nails, before they’d taken him to the sick bay. Then you peeked at his fingers—clean, unscarred, like nothing had happened. Moonlight was settling faintly across the contours of his rings. Despite yourself, you capitulated and set your elbows on the railing.

“We had tarts today,” you said.

“We did,” his voice was levelled. It was the first time in days hearing it.

“Chances there’s any left?”

He pulled on his cigarette. “Only if you’re ready to gut your captain’s belly.”

“Yeah,” trailing off. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Figured.”

There was a pause.

Sanji ran a touch through his hair, thinking of a thing to say, or rather, feeling for something that was no longer there. And suddenly, his voice fogged the air again, a sound that overrode the creak of the ship and the agitated patter of the waves.

“I’m in love with you,” he said.

You were no stranger to seeing Sanji's mouth bend around such words. Love, falling in love, talking about love—he reeked of all these things, of these saccharine intentions and grand gestures holding him together like wrap paper, making a confession hover to the skies no differently than the smoke leaving his lungs at the exhale. Yet even though you knew this wasn’t going to be either his first or last confession, there was something to the tone he took this time that unsettled you.

The response left you instinctively, “I know.”

“No, darling, I mean—” he took a full drag of his cigarette, a long breath that couldn’t contain the urgency at which words wanted to get out.

A couple of beats later, a hiss eventually dragged itself free. “Merde,” It tamped your guts to the point of throwing up. He tried again, ”Je suis fou de toi. Je brûle pour toi. When I’m with you, it’s like time is moving backwards. And I can’t talk to you, stay anywhere in your proximity, unless I scrape away everything that makes me what I am and there’s nothing left but the washout who couldn’t even hold a chef’s knife the right way. A coward, that’s what that guy is.”

Waves droned peacefully under the starless sky. Sanji attempted to bring up his cigarette for another drag, his hand slightly trembling as he did. His words still fogged your train of thought and you weren’t feeling much like yourself either, but you stopped it mid-air, fingers wrapping themselves over the knuckles, slowly guiding it back to the damp railing. He left it there. A breeze ran a blow through his hair covering more of his face than he normally would.

Seconds later his breathing evened up, and that’s when he added, with a sadness that you weren’t used to, but somehow expected coming, “I’m sorry for saddening you, mon coeur, you at least deserved an explanation for the decisions I recently made. I’ve been acting immaturely and there’s absolutely no excuse for it.” A lungful of air. “It’s just that you deserve more, much, much more. I can’t stand seeing you settle for any less.” I don’t deserve you, was how the silence that came after settled between your forms.

You squeezed his hand. He flinched. To say you’d have acted any differently had you thought more clearly would be a lie; salt in your lungs and a killer sinking feeling in your stomach, you then lifted his arm and placed it around you, resting your head upon his shoulder, faint light gleaming across the sea ahead like a second chance.

“All I’m hearing is that you think I’m not deserving to see the All Blue,” you said.

Sanji couldn’t bring himself to look at you. “You know I didn’t say that.”

“Loser or not,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “There's only one guy who can take me there.”

“And what if the All Blue doesn’t exist?”

“I’ll invent it.” It’s reflexive, almost like the slight shift of your head as you said it, and here they were, his eyes meeting you through layers of hair, incredulous.

A moment passed.

His mouth was twitching and his cheeks were wet. “Dear,” slowly, tender. “You’re really everything I could ask for and more.” For the first time you could feel him holding you a little tighter, his hand moving up and down across your arm. “Thank you.”

You stood like that for a while, a soothing silence, feeling his goatee against your cheekbone and taking in the nicotine embedded in his clothes. The waters cradling the ship were dark and alien, yet your focus was only kept on the few patches the moon could reach, and otherworldly reflections of blue swam now in his irises, matching the flicker lit in your chest each time his gaze found you.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece scenario

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calummss · 1 year ago

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Bleeding into Nightfall | Klaus Mikaelson

masterlist

summary: life is gloomy and you’re tired of repetitive days that don’t get better. you say goodbye to the world forgetting about once person in paticular—niklaus mikaelson

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 3k

a/n: story of my life with the love of my life

tw: heavy descriptions of depression, suicide!!!

Waking up every day was like waking up from the calm and facing the storm. Days bleeding into nightfall. Day after day starting to warp into each other, each day as listless as the day before. Mystic falls’ grey gloomy clouds constantly above your head as you managed to get out of bed. You kind of found common ground with autumn mornings. You enjoyed them more than any other morning but enjoy is a strong word for someone like you. Autumn mornings are dark that make it look like it was three in the morning. A time where nobody in this world expects a single thing from you. Just you alone existing in this world.

You brush your teeth.

Comb your hair.

Put on an outfit.

Make yourself look presentable so that nobody would be able to tell just how empty you felt. How draining it was getting ready when you could easily wear the same pair of clothes day and night. Forget about your appearance as you just try to pass the day.

Leaving the house you took one last look in the mirror with the same face you wish you could rip off, but instead you put on your best genuine smile that didn’t make you look like a manic sociopath and closed the door to make your way to school.

13 hours and 30 minutes to go.

Out of 24 hours you only feel okay for a couple. And it’s not even that you feel good, you just feel okay. You just try to get through the day. It’s been like this for a while. Time wailing past you, time wailing before you that has you trapped. You wake up. Go to school. Eat and sleep. Sometimes you don’t even eat or sleep. The easiest tasks seem impossible to complete. Why do you have to waste such a long amount of time? You’d be perfectly fine with only living eighteen years instead of eighty. You don’t do anything all day but you’re exhausted each time you lay down in bed, ready to shut your eyes. Still, you drag yourself through the day like cattle; unable to break free from what's holding you back.

The walk to school isn’t too long. Rustling leaves on trees, crunching of dead leaves that were kicked up into the air with each step you took, the thought of simply being a leaf on your mind as you barely noticed the person ahead.

‘I’m so sorry�� Caroline…hi. I’m sorry,’ you lifted your head from the ground to see Caroline’s smile. ‘I wasn’t really paying attention to my surroundings,’

‘Yeah, I could tell.’ She gleamed, hooking her arm into yours as you continued walking the last blocks.

It was an okay walk. Your ears picking up different sounds of your surroundings as the mixture of sounds seemed to be blocking out your thoughts. It's too hard to concentrate on them.

‘Do you have anything planned for your outfit on Saturday?’ Caroline broke you from the chattering of your mind, hearing her voice bringing you back to the present.

You stared at her. Your eyes on her, your face hanging from your head as you stayed quiet, pressing your lips against each other as her smile turned to a frown.

‘Y/n, come on,’ she moaned, the sparkles in her eyes duplicating as she stared back at you. Her personality reminding you of the warmth of a fireplace on a cold evening. ‘It’s the school dance! It’s so important that we make these memories to look back on them when we’re old and wrinkly,’

‘I think I have enough memories.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I just don’t really feel like going, that's all…’

‘Why not?’ She came to a halt, taking her arm from you so she could stand perfectly square of you, her arms folded in front of her chest as the wind blew her hair from the back.

‘I don’t know,’ you shrugged, ‘I just don’t want to go.’

‘Not even to please Klaus? I mean no offence—‘ (Caroline’s favourite way to start being offensive) ‘But no one knows what he sees in you. I mean he’s this grumpy old maniac that terrifies the vampire species and you’re just…you. A human with a normal life. A nice girl that just, in comparison to him, lives a boring life.’

‘I don’t know, Caroline,’ you huffed, picking up pace again, readjusting your school bag. Feet sluggishly bringing you forth. ‘He’s nice to me and he makes me forget certain aspects of my life but even for him I wouldn’t go.’

‘What’s wrong with you, Y/n?’ Caroline held you back again, stopping once more. ‘Are you okay? I’ve noticed that you seem off for a while now and I didn’t want to pry but I cannot hold myself back any longer. What happened? What is it that’s making you so glum all the time?’

‘I’m okay, Caroline,’ you half smiled, ‘I think I’d just rather go home and watch a movie or something.’

Caroline opened her mouth but before she could say another word you cut her off, ‘And before you offer yourself as my sleepover company, I think I’d rather be alone.’ You started walking again, the school doors only a few minutes away. ‘Besides, I know you want to be a good friend by wanting to come over but you and I both know that deep down you hoped I would say no because you want to go to the dance, and that is fine. Make those memories, Caroline! Your life has so many blank pages left to fill and I don’t want to hold you back! Go and have fun.’

Caroline immediately pulled you into a hug. Her perfume hitting your nostrils as you placed your arms around her, a quick smile forming on your lips.

‘Come on now,’ you took hold of her arm, ‘We need to get there on time otherwise Rick will have us doing detention the rest of the week.’

‘Do you think he dislikes us?’

‘No, I actually think it’s his way of showing that he cares,’ you let out a giggle that infected Caroline as you walked onto the school premises just as the bell rang for first period.

School was the same every day. Go to class. Pay attention. Write down notes. Stare outside of the window, the teacher’s voice fading into silence as your mind powered through to absent you from life.

Everyone seems so content with life? Why can’t I? What is there to be happy about?

‘Miss Jacobs, the action is here. Not outside.’ Mrs. Clark said, snapping your head to the front of the class. ‘If my class is boring you’re welcome to go outside.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Now, where was I?’

10 hours to go.

When the school bell rang for the last time, you started to clear your table and cram all your stuff into your bag, people pushing past you as everyone tried to leave. Out in the hall you quickly waved Caroline, Elena and Bonnie goodbye, ready to go home and sit in silence.

Plugging in your headphones you slowly started to walk home, music blasting through your ears and you tried to block out any sound from the world.

Trees and cars passed you, barely anyone on the pavement. You kept walking when you noticed a person in the distance; dressed in dark colours, stance confident and a face you could recognise from a mile away.

‘Hi.’ You gave him your best smile, not too much, not too little.

‘I hear there’s a school dance this saturday,’ he accompanied you towards your home. ‘I was hoping that I could ask you to the dance.’

‘I’m actually not going.’

‘Why?’

‘Don’t feel like going, that’s all.’ You shared a quick glance.

His pupils dilated, eyebrows drawn together, the skin between them wrinkled. ‘Are you okay, Y/n.’ He gently grabbed a hold of your upper arm, the frequent blinking of his eyes telling you that you made him worry.

‘I’m fine,’ you chuckled, your crooked smile paired with dull, sparkless eyes not in your favour.

‘Don’t give me that bullshit.’

‘Klaus, please. I’m not in a mood to argue right now.’

‘Arguing?’ His eyebrows drew his eyebrows even closer. ‘We’re just talking.’

‘Look, Klaus.’ You stopped in your tracks, allowing yourself to stare up at his face. Lips plush, eyes squinted as his focus was on you. ‘I see that you want to go to the dance with me and if I were up to it I would, but I would just rather go home. Watch a movie. Be alone. Get away from all this,’ you sighed.

‘Okay,’

‘Okay.’ You breathed, ‘See you around, okay?’ You got on your tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his cheek before walking home.

‘Yeah, see you around.’ Klaus mumbled as you were already out of earshot, leaving him confused as to what was happening to you.

6 hours to go.

When you arrived home you went straight upstairs. Throwing your bag into a corner of your room as you wasted no time to change into more comfortable clothes like your lounging outfit (a pyjama). Down the stairs you walked into the kitchen, taking a bag of doritos and a bar of chocolate from the cupboard, a glass of water to wash down the junk and placed them onto the coffee table. Snatching a blanket from the living room trunk, you made yourself comfortable and put on the TV, ready to watch the Big Bang Theory and waste your time.

‘Y/h honey,’ your mother’s heels sounded through the living room. ‘It’s date night so we’ll be home quite late.’

‘Mhm.’

‘Make sure to get some healthy carbs and protein in you too, okay darling?’

‘Yeah, mom. Have fun.’ You said, your eyes haven’t left the screen.

‘See you later.’

The door closed. Silence swept the house. Your TV the only thing that sounded within the walls. Sighing, you took a row of chocolate and let out a half-sounded giggle as you continued watching TV.

1 hour left to go.

8:50pm; it was time to go upstairs. You put away the stuff you used, made sure the windows and doors were locked and the lights turned off. The floorboard creaked with every step you took. Going into your bedroom you halted in front of your dresser, picking up the framed family portrait that you took on a trip to the family cabin on christmas day.

Your lips started pressing together, your fingers on the back of the frame scraping against the wood as a blink of your eyes let the first two tears roll down your cheek. Your heart twisted, aching with every shaky breath you took, a sting of melancholy growing inside your throat.

4 minutes to go.

You placed it back on the dresser, taking another glance at your room before taking off to the bathroom where you closed the door and took a long look in the mirror: messed up hair, red puffy eyes that blinked uncontrollably, the face of a person you never got to know.

Wiping away your tears you opened the cabinet and grabbed the packet of razors you purchased just last week in preparation for tonight.

Taking a deep breath you climbed into the bathtub, letting your back fall against the wall, a new surge of emptiness growing as you realised that you were going to be utterly alone when you went.

The cold metal pierced into your soft skin like fresh butter. The warmth of your blood no longer flowing like it normally did but instead poured onto your skin. Quiet drips spilling into the bathtub, staining your clothes on the way. Once your blood started spilling you didn’t feel any great pain, it hurt, but it was manageable. You hoped it wouldn’t, however seeing all the blood that was streaming from your cut, made your heart start to beat at immense speed.

Then the sweating started to begin. Your body was damp, head to toe and toe to head. You thought back on the days you went running. Every time you finished you’d have the same, wet, and uncomfortable sweat sitting on your skin, soaking into your clothes. A deeply unpleasant feeling started to make itself noticeable, heart pounding in your chest, throbbing with pain, but there was nothing you could do. Neither did you want to. You wanted nothing more than to disappear from the earth’s surface. You didn’t need to be here. Trapped with nowhere to go. No one would miss you. You barely had anyone but yourself and that was all you needed. Even in death you felt comforted by your own thoughts. A very strong headache, accompanied by a loud, white noise ringing almost made you regret your decision. The room spun like crazy before your vision started fading out; the ringing got louder as darkness came for you…

Klaus made his way to your house. He didn’t like the way you were acting before you left. Your behaviour hasn’t left his mind since you last spoke. He turned into your driveway and jogged up the stairs, ringing the bell to hope that you would open up to him. To let him make you feel better. To let you know that he would do anything to see you happy.

But you never answered.

‘Y/n, open the door.’ Klaus raised his voice, his fist hitting against the door.

No answer.

‘Y/n!’ He slammed the door again.

Still, nothing.

Klaus focused his hearing to see if you were home when he suddenly heard shallow breaths; breaths he knew belonged to you. Without wasting another second Klaus kicked down the door, his vampire speed taking him to the location of decreased breaths. Almost taking the bathroom door off its hinges, Klaus found you sitting in the tub; red staining your body, head hanging sideways.

‘Y/N!’ He bellowed, falling to his knees, his arms hooking under your lump torso, pulling you out of the tub. The lack of tension in your body making his heart fall into an empty pit.

‘No, no, no, no, no,’ Klaus’ hands grabbed the sides of your face, twisting and turning. Hoping that your eyes would flatter open and greet him with a smile. A smile he held dear to his heart. But they stayed closed, his eyes getting blurrier the longer he fought.

‘Don’t you die on me!’ Klaus bit into his wrists, placing it on your lips, letting the blood flow into your system, his shaking arm staining your lower half of your face red. ‘You do not get to die! Wake up! Wake up…’

You stayed still. Just as lifeless as before you weighed Klaus’ body to the ground, his tears falling to your chest, pulling you close as his heart ached greater than it ever had. His reason to be good went without saying goodbye, leaving him to be alone like he had been for hundreds of centuries.

Klaus has heard thousands of heartbeats stop. Seen thousands of bodies covered in blood. Thousands of dead people. He didn’t know why it was so hard to see you there when he had been through this a million times. He felt empty. Everything about you came crashing down, his hope for hearing you say his name draining into nothingness. Klaus’ breathing grew louder, his chest feeling like it was being filled with water, the same water that spilled from his lashes, staring down at someone he always put first; forever wishing he hadn’t let you go home by yourself that afternoon.

Suddenly your body jolted forwards, gasping for air. Eyes wide as you took a large gulp of air, your chest rising and falling.

‘Y/n?’ Klaus whispered, his hands back on your face. ‘Y/n, y/n, talk to me.’

You coughed in response, droopy eyes making it hard to see your surroundings, blurry vision fading into one big blob of colour.

‘Y/n, say something please…’

‘Klaus,’ you whispered so quietly, lips barely parting as you spoke.

‘Can you hear me?’

‘Yes, what— what happened?’

‘What happened, Y/n?’ Klaus’ voice increased in volume.’You almost died on me!’ His tone shook.

‘Am— Am I a vampire?’ You started to come back to your old self. Your vision clearing up, your ears no longer feeling like a tunnel.

‘No, my blood just healed you.’ He caressed your head, softly stroking your hair.

‘Why did you save me?’

‘Why?’ A frown painted his lip, ‘I care about you, Y/n! So much. You don’t deserve to die. How could you leave me without saying goodbye?’

‘I didn’t want to say goodbye to you Klaus because if I would’ve looked at your face and said those words, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. It would’ve made leaving so much harder.’

‘Look at me,’ his thumb swiped across your cheek, ‘this is the face of someone who will never let you die or get hurt,’

Your heart clenched as you looked at him, tears pooling at your lower lash line. ‘Klaus—‘

‘Please promise me to not leave without saying goodbye first,’

‘You have to promise, Y/n…’

‘What makes you think I don’t want to die anymore, Klaus?’

Klaus stared back at you; empty eyes, no thoughts to be said out loud.

‘Promise me to not kill yourself, seriously? What makes you think I won’t try to do this again? I love you Klaus, I do, but my love is not bigger than my will to live.’

‘Y/n, stop talking…’

‘Why? Because you thought I’d thank you for saving me? I didn’t want to be saved, Nik! I never wanted to. All I wanted was for all of this shit to go away and you brought me back to this shit.’

‘Y/n, please,’

‘Leave.’

‘What?’

‘I said leave!’

‘No!’

‘LEAVE!’

‘NO!’

Tears started streaming down your face, ‘Fuck you, Nik.’ And you stood up to go to your room.

Klaus stayed over the next several days. Sleeping against your closed door as he tried to patch things back up. But it was your decision to make a change, and your decision to forgive him.

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