#he was mind blown and did his best to communicate

[blurred-cat]

i'm not very social so to overcome that i talk to the lyft/uber/cab drivers and gain more Talking to People exp so that i can communicate easier and better elsewhere (and also because a lot of them are genuinely fucking interesting!!!)

[homesick4la]

complicated — hamzahthefantastic

1. pushing it down and praying

contains: a little cheating..smoking, some nsfw content but nothing crazy

summary: after half a year of no contact, you run into your ex at a party.

a/n: kinda got this idea from the lizzy mcalpine song bc i am obsessed with it. so listen if you haven’t lol. also i decided to split the fic but it’s only gonna be two parts!

it’d officially been six months since you and your ex boyfriend went no contact.

the first few months were hell for you.

of course, you went through the stereotypical phase of eating ice cream and crying to rom-coms directly after your break up. but that short-lived phase gradually shifted into one that was much more melancholic once the two of you decided to go no contact.

everyday that you woke up, you were engulfed by an emotional numbness. a dull pain that served as a constant reminder of your grief.

you were grieving what the relationship was and what it could’ve been.

you had always envisioned your future with hamzah in it which is why the lack of communication between the two of you left you absolutely soulless.

you had never experienced such an intense love before him. everything was picture perfect in the beginning. it was even better than the movies.

but after two years, the miscommunication between you to became destructive.

things that should have been minor disagreements escalated into full blown arguments. you’d yell over each other, ignoring each other’s feelings and growing overwhelmingly defensive.

eventually, it became exhausting. you were both so angry all the time and too stressed with work or school to address it properly.

ultimately, you two mutually decided to call it quits. additionally, you later agreed that going no contact would be the best option for both of you.

now, half a year later, you were finally trying to move on.

after reading an endless amount of self-help books, you learned that after experiencing every stage of relationship grief (which you had), you theoretically should be ready to search for love again.

despite your reluctance, your best friends had forced you to join all the dating apps- urging you to hook up with someone new to get your mind off your ex.

it took days of swiping left on men that were literally the epitome of a walking red flag for you to finally find a man suitable enough to go on a date with.

his name was matthew. he recently graduated from college and instantly started a 9-5 working in finance. he spent his free time hiking. he had a golden retriever.

he was kind. he was stable. but he wasn’t hamzah.

you two had gone on a few dates. you had even hooked up after a couple of them.

as guilty as it made you, each hook up was spent closing your eyes- imagining hamzah on top of you. that it wasn’t matthew deep inside of you but it was hamzah; the one that knew your body like the back of his hand and knew just how to please you every time.

you were giving your all to this “moving on” stage but you simply weren’t satisfied.

that being said, when matthew had asked you to attend an old friend’s party with him on your last date, you politely agreed.

now here you were, shuffling through a crowd of sweaty bodies with a man that barely knew you guiding you by your waist.

“how do you know the host again?” you ask, nearly yelling over the music that was blasting through numerous speakers.

“he’s a friend from my hometown, remember? from ottawa?”

“right, right. i remember now.” you look up at him. you did not remember.

you two make your way into the kitchen. he pours shots of vodka into red solo cups and hands one to you.

you feel the familiar burn of alcohol stinging your throat as you down the shot.

“you look gorgeous tonight by the way. forgot to tell you earlier.” he tells you, running his hand up and down your waist.

hamzah would’ve told you earlier. he would’ve been kissing up and down your neck before you even finished your makeup while getting ready. reiterating how beautiful you are each time his lips left your skin.

fuck. there you go again. comparing everything matthew said or did to hamzah.

he’s not in your life anymore, you think to yourself. it’s time to get over him.

“thank you.” you answer matthew, mustering up a smile.

“you ready to go meet my friends?”

“yeah, let’s go! i’m excited to meet them.” you were lying straight through your teeth. but you continued to put on this enthusiastic act simply because he was nice.

he leads you to the main room where you meet a couple of his hometown friends. one named kyle. another named josh.

they were essentially carbon copies of matthew. frat bros that grew up and became finance guys.

you quietly listen as the boys catch up on one another’s lives.

until something, someone, catches your eye.

hamzah. he was across the large room with his back faced toward you. but it had to be him.

you could recognize the shape of his shoulders and you knew that those dark curls stuffed under a camo hat could only belong to him.

you stomach drops. somehow, you had never ran into him since the breakup.

the sight of him mixed with the alcohol made you sick to your stomach.

“hey”, you tap on matthew’s shoulder. “i’m gonna go find a bathroom real quick.” you explain.

“okay, just come find me when you’re done.” he replies before resuming his conversation with his friends.

you turn around, walking in the direction of a long hallway that you knew must have a bathroom.

you turn the doorknob of the first door you find and miraculously, it is a bathroom.

you clutch onto the counter, letting out a sharp exhale.

one of your hands grips to your stomach while you continue taking deep breaths.

in for 4. hold for 7. out for 8. you repeat.

a breathing technique that hamzah had taught you.

you hear the doorknob rattle. before you can say anything, the door is being launched open.

“oh shit! sorry!”, you hear a familiar voice as the door is being pulled closed again. “wait- y/n?”

the voice belonged to mandy. hamzah’s bestfriend’s girlfriend. you forgot that her and martin were from ottawa. they must’ve known the host of the party.

she steps inside, shutting the door behind her.

“are you okay? what’re you doing here? i haven’t seen you in so long.” she pulls you into a hug.

“yeah i’m here with some guy i’ve been seeing. but i saw hamzah and just needed to take a sec.” you explain during your embrace.

she pulls away, looking in your eyes.

“did he see you?”

“no, he was facing the other direction.”

“oh okay”, she nods and looks down.

“yeah. i haven’t seen him since we ended things so, it gave me a bit of panic attack.” you chuckle awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, y/n. break ups suck.” she pauses, “when i went through my first break up, i saw my ex at an amusement park about a month after. and i got so upset, i threw up in front of one of those stupid basketball games where you can win a big teddy bear.”

you laugh at her story, “seriously?”

“yes! it was so bad, the worker ended up giving me one of those huge bears out of pity!” she exclaims.

once your laughter dies down, mandy breaks the silence once again.

“he still talks about you, you know. every once in a while.”

every once in a while. you had thought of him every single day.

“every once in a while?”

“yeah. seems like most of the time it’s too hard for him to talk about. but sometimes, he can’t help himself.”

maybe he did think of you as often as you did.

“anyway”, she continues, “whose this new guy?”

she smirks teasingly.

“ugh. mandy, he’s so boring! but he’s so nice! he’s just- he’s nothing like hamzah. i don’t know- he’s really sweet, it’s just not, exciting? i guess?”

she nods. “well, if you want my advice..i say you shouldn’t stay with someone just because they’re nice to you. a lot of people are nice. only a few people will make you feel ‘sparks’ or whatever.”

you nod understandingly.

god you missed talking to her.

“i gotta get back to martin but if you want to talk to hamzah, he went out on the balcony. and let’s not have to run into each other at a random party to catch up again, ‘kay? text me.”

“okay.” you hug her tightly, “we’ll go for coffee soon.”

she smiles before exiting the bathroom.

you look into the mirror, trying to decide if going out on the balcony is a good idea.

“fuck it.” you whisper to yourself.

you didn’t know when you’d ever get the opportunity to speak to hamzah again. you had to go out on that balcony.

you walk out of the bathroom, sneaking past matthew who was still deep in conversation.

turning the corner past the main room, you find the sliding glass door to the balcony.

there he is. alone. sat on the small balcony, lighting a joint that hangs between his lips.

with his camo hat he wore a pair of dark wash jeans and white t-shirt.

you take a deep breath before reaching to slide open the door.

his head instantly whips towards you, his eyes widening a bit.

“hi.” you break the silence. you feel awkward. what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been completely heartbroken over for the last six months?

“hey.” his eyes soften as he speaks.

“i, um- ran into mandy. she told me you were out here.” you explain to him.

he nods slowly. “come sit.” he pats the space on the floor next to him.

you do as he says. plopping onto the ground and pulling your knees to your chest.

he takes a drag from the joint between his fingers before pulling it out and handing it over to you. you two had shared a joint countless times during your relationship, making the action feel natural.

you bring the joint to your lips, sucking on it for a few seconds before blowing out the smoke and handing it back to him.

“how’ve you been?” he asks.

his voice was calm. you wondered how he could act so nonchalant in this situation.

“i’ve been okay. school’s been stressful.” you say, trying to avoid ranting about the emotional turmoil you’ve experienced since you two separated. “how about you?”

“good. just working a lot. martin and i upload multiple times a week now and run the merch ourselves so it’s been busy, but it’s fun.” his face lights up as he talks about it. he’d always been passionate about his career.

“that’s great, hamzah. i still remember when you had him up on that cracked screen just to have him on the pod.” you laugh.

“oh god, it was a shit show trying to get that thing to run properly.” he chuckles at the memory.

it falls silent for a moment.

“you still gonna become a journalist?” he asks, cocking his head to the side while looking at you.

“that’s the plan, yeah.” you answer.

“good. you were always good with words.”

“yeah?” you smile.

“of course, it’s why i was always calling you smarty pants.”

you chuckle at the nickname you’d forgotten about.

“i thought you were calling me that because of my attitude.” since childhood, you were teased for being bit of a know it all.

“i mean- yeah that was part of it.” he laughs, “but it was mostly because of that big brain of yours.”he taps his pointer finger to your temple.

“well, i don’t feel very smart these days.” you admit. “my grades have been slipping.”

“seriously? how come?”

“just had a rough last couple months.” you try to remain vague.

“your new guy not keeping you happy?”

your eyes widen. how did he know about matthew?

“did you see me with him inside?”

“yeah. i was about to walk into the kitchen when i saw you two together.”

you exhale deeply. “oh, uh. sorry about that.”

“answer my question, y/n.” his voice was low, serious.

“what?” your voice tinged with confusion.

“are you happy?”

you think for moment. you could lie, tell him you’re happy, let him believe that you’ve moved on. but everything in you wants to be honest with him.

“i’m trying to be.” you respond quietly before taking the joint from his hands and up to your mouth once again.

his eyes were glued to you as pushed the smoke from your mouth, like he was studying your face.

“that guy’s not right for you.” he shook his head as he spoke.

“hamzah, you don’t know him.” you’re not sure why you feel the need to defend matthew but you do.

“i can see what kind of guy he is—the kind that can’t even begin to grasp the complexity to you.” he explains.

“you’re high, hamzah. and you’re jumping to conclusions.”, you shift your position on the ground, “based on looks, might i add. didn’t they teach you not to do that in elementary school? the whole don’t judge a book by its cover thing? did you tune that part out?” you say as you stand from your spot. it pained you how well hamzah could read people- how accurate his description of matthew was.

“baby all this rambling makes it seem like you’re avoiding the truth—that he’s not good enough for you. and you’re not happy. i mean has he even noticed how long you’ve been gone?”

you forgot how stubborn this man could be.

you let out a defeated sigh. “it’s none of your business, really. and you’re right, i’ve been gone too long. i should get back to him.”

you steal the joint from his hand and take one last drag before you start to walk back towards the sliding glass door. you hear hamzah rise to his feet behind you.

“y/n, wait.”

you turn around, facing towards him again. “yeah?”

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.” he apologizes.

“s’okay.”, you shrug your shoulders. “it was nice running into you.”

he nods agreeably.

you turn back around, beginning to accept that this was it. your last few seconds with him before you were back to no contact.

your hand reaches the sliding glass door, about to pull the door open when you hear hamzah’s voice once again.

“y/n, don’t go.”

don’t go.

“what?” you question, furrow your eyebrows.

he takes slow steps toward you, ditching his joint by throwing the remains of it to the floor.

he keeps walking towards you until you’re just a foot apart. he grabs your hand, pulling you to him and shifting your bodies so your lower back rested the black metal railing of the balcony as he stood directly in front of you.

his face was inches from yours. you could so easily lift your head and kiss him.

“come back to my apartment with me.” he whispered.

“why would i do that?” you replied, feeling the pace of your breath quicken due to the close proximity.

“because you miss me.” the corner of his mouth upturned into a cocky smirk. “and i miss you.”

you were speechless. all you could do was stare into his eyes, trying to decipher whether or not those words had actually just left his mouth.

you swallow harshly before speaking, “i’m here with someone else, hamzah. i’m going home with him.”

you try to stand your ground, but god you wanted to give in.

he scrunches his nose and shakes his head as he places his hands on the metal railing behind you, trapping you between his arms.

“but he doesn’t know you like i do.”

before you can respond, you feel his fingers brush your hair away from the side of your neck.

he places his hands on waist as his head falls to your neck, his plump lips hovering above your skin. your head instinctively leans to the side, giving him full access.

“does he know how much you like being kissed right here?” he whispers softly, feeling his lips move on your skin as he speaks.

he presses his lips to place where your neck and shoulder meet, remembering how much this spot had an effect on you.

you shut your eyes in utter satisfaction. you hated how much of an effect he had on you.

you bring your hands to his neck, then weaving your fingers through his curls as he continues kissing, sucking, and nipping at the sweet spots on your neck.

his hands float down, gripping onto your hips- another minuscule touch that he knew drove you crazy.

with his hands on your hips, he pulls your bodies closer. suddenly, the thought of matthew has completely vanished. you’re completely caught up in hamzah, and it felt so good- indulging in his recognizable scent and familiar touch.

you let out a soft moan as his hand falls to your ass, grabbing it shamelessly.

“hamzah, hamzah— i can’t, we can’t do this.” you say breathlessly, using your hand to tap on his chest.

hamzah steps back, his breath unsteady as watches you carefully, his gaze lingering on your lips. for a moment, you think he isn’t going to say anything— that he was just going to turn around and walk away.

but then he leans, his voice low “meet me outside in five.” his tone carrying both a question and a promise.

you feel a rush of nerves as he walks away, opening the sliding glass door and slipping back into the crowd.

you stay out there for a moment, catching your breath.

you shouldn’t go. you know you shouldn’t.

but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he looked at you.

next part: with you all night

a/n: yuppppp part two coming very very soon and it’s gonna pick up right where this leaves off. sorry if this is long and boring, tbh i just needed something to distract myself from everything going on lol…k bye muah

[jenosbigtoe]

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: lee jeno x reader x na jaemin

warnings: everyone here is a freak, recording of sexual activities, unprotected sex, blowjobs, backshots

jeno and jaemin love sluts. absolutely fucking loooovveee sluts. especially the dumb ones, the slutty bimbos that don’t know anything but dick.

when jeno showed up wearing an “i ❤️ sluts” shirt to a hangout with the guys, jaemin got a matching “i ❤️ sluts more” shirt to wear with him.

and when you strutted in front of them so obliviously, wearing the shortest pink plaid mini skirt they’d ever seen with a glorified little crop top (it was really just a little piece of tight fabric stretched over your tits) that had your red lacy bra peeking through, they knew they had to have you.

they gave each other a silent look of communication as you had your back turned and played 3 rounds of rock paper scissors without saying a word. jeno won best 2 out of 3, making jaemin curse and punch the air. jeno smirked and walked over to you, pressing a hand to the small of your back and whispering lowly into your ear.

“hey, sweet cheeks. haven’t seen you around here before,” he flirted.

you turned to face whomever had just put his hands on you, feeling hot in the face when you saw that it was one of sexiest men you had ever seen. “uh-“ you rubbed your legs together, which jeno did not miss.

“name’s jeno. what’s your name, baby?” his face was so close to yours that you could count the eyelashes on his eyes.

“y-y/n,” you stuttered. “what are you-“

he shushed you. “y/n, how about you let me take you out sometime, hm?”

he was giving you backshots later that night, recording himself clapping your cheeks on snapchat to send to jaemin. you had fat tears streaming down your face, leaving a trail of messy black mascara. the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and wet squelching filled the room, along with repetitive creaks of the bed and your loud sobs of pleasure.

“f-fuck!! jeno please harder! more more more!” you cried out, gripping the sheets of his bed tightly with balled up fists. his hips were pounding into you at such a fast and deep rate, heaving balls slapping against your clit, leaving your mind a fuzzy and jumbled mess.

jeno held your squirming hips flush to his body using his insane strength. “fucking slut. you like that huh?” he gave a particularly hard thrust that had him bottoming out inside your cunt. “you like getting fucked like this by a guy you just met, huh?”

you were too fucked out to give a response. your drooling cunt leaked and spasmed around jeno’s insanely thick and veiny cock, causing him to groan and smack your ass.

all these videos jeno sent to jaemin had him feeling major fomo. he knew you were a fucking slut that gave it up easy, so you wouldn’t mind taking one more cock tonight, huh?

he let himself into jeno’s apartment, stripped himself of all his clothes, and entered jeno’s bedroom unannounced. he stroked his hard cock at the lewd sight of jeno fucking you like a madman from behind, while you were left sobbing and could barely keep your eyes open. jeno was the first to notice the uninvited visitor and smirked at him.

“got tired of seeing it through the screen and wanted a taste of the real thing huh?” jeno leaned over and grabbed your face to make you look at his best friend. “y/n this is jaemin, my best friend. you wanna show him how good this pussy is?”

you were too fucked out to even register what was going on, why there was some stranger watching as you were getting your back blown out and wanting to join in. so you just nodded your head dumbly and let jeno’s thrusts take over your mind and body.

“god she’s such a slut. okay with anything as long as she gets cock, huh?” jaemin groaned, tilting his head back and giving his cock a few hard pumps before crawling on the bed.

he positioned himself right in front of your mouth, which was hanging open dumbly from how hard you were getting fucked from behind.

“open wide, sweetheart,” he smacked your face with his cock a few times before rubbing the tip on your lips. “i’ve already missed out on so much of the fun.”

yeah, jeno and jaemin love sluts and you were their new favorite toy to play with.

[dixons-sunshine]

Daryl Dixon x Pregnant!Reader headcannons

*GIF isn't mine*

Warnings: Sexual content, pregnancy (obviously), morning sickness.

Word count: 853.

A/n: Basically just a collection of things I think Daryl would do if his s/o was pregnant.

To the people who sent requests, thank you so much for them! I'll get started on them right away. And as always, my requests are open for any TWD requests!

—

★The moment you told Daryl you were pregnant, he was scared and excited at the same time.

★Scared because he didn't know what parenthood would have in store for him (he was also scared he'd end up being like his father), but excited because he was starting a family with the love of his life—you.

★He'd be at your beck and call 24/7—he knew he had jobs to do around the community, but his girl and his unborn baby were his number one priority.

★Cravings? He'd make pantry runs for you. If the pantry didn't have what you wanted, he'd go on a run to find it for you, or send someone else to find it if you didn't want him to leave.

★If you were feeling clingy that day and didn't want him to leave your side, you best believe he'd stay practically glued to your side. The only exception would be if he was desperately needed for something extremely important, but if that wasn't the case? One wouldn't find him away from you.

★He would be so scared to have sex during your pregnancy. Even if you assured him multiple times that it wouldn't affect the baby in the slightest, he would still refuse. If you wanted pleasure, he'd eat you out like a starved man that's been denied a banquet for years, no problem, but full-blown sex is something he doesn't want to do; he doesn't want to hurt his little one.

★Daryl would be undeterred by your mood swings. Growing up with his father and brother, both of who's moods could change in a moment's notice, made him no stranger to sudden mood shifts. However, you were the love of his life and the mom of his unborn baby, so he treated your mood swings with more care and patience than he ever did with his father or brother. In his mind, your body was working overtime, so of course your emotions would be all over the place.

★Daryl would also be undeterred by your morning sickness. He was so used to being covered in blood and walker guts all the time that a bit of vomit would be the least of his worries.

★Daryl would pull your hair back and out of your face while you vomit, rubbing one of his hands over your back in gentle movements.

★Daryl would love laying his head on your baby bump. He'd place gentle kisses on your stomach while your hands softly tread through his hair, all the while wondering how he got so lucky with you, and how the two of you would be starting a family soon—something that he never would've thought he'd do before the apocalypse and before he met you—before he'd fall asleep on your stomach.

★Daryl would be the type of guy who'd think you look absolutely stunning during your pregnancy. Daryl always thought you looked beautiful, no matter what, but there was something about seeing you glow while your stomach continued to gradually grow as your and his baby grew that made you even more beautiful to him.

★That being said, if anybody even so much as looked at you wrong during your pregnancy, Daryl wouldn't hesitate to put them in their place. Nobody was allowed to degrade you ever, and especially not while you were carrying a life the two of you created in you.

★Daryl would outright refuse to let you do any hard work. He knew that he couldn't stop you from helping out at all (a guy could dream), but he refused to let you do any heavy lifting or anything that would exhaust you too much. Yours and your baby's safety was his number one priority, and he wouldn't let anything happen to you just because some people in the community couldn't pick up some extra work.

★Daryl wouldn't let you talk down on yourself. With your growing stomach came the inability to fit into any of your clothes, and with that came insecurity, but he'd always go out of his way to make sure you knew that there was nothing wrong with you or your body. You were perfect to him.

★Your clothes don't fit you anymore? Wear his. There's just something in him that loves seeing his clothes on his woman while she's pregnant with his baby. It drives him crazy in a good way.

★If there was an ultrasound available and the two of you went to yours, Daryl would tear up a little bit when he saw his little one for the first time. He'd take your hand in his and when the doctor left, he'd give you gentle, loving kisses.

★“Look at tha'. There's our baby, our lil' one.”

—

I'll come back and add on once I think of more.

[wisecura]

Jujutsu Kaisen

unfortunately, I pick favorites

🔪 - will have dark undertones (or full blown black flags).

🔞 - will have smutty content.

♡ - a request fic I got

warnings will be put for the stories that have less traditional dark undertones. most of my work will have themes that may be unsettling or uncomfortable so please do not interact with these stories. this can include dubcon, toxic relationships, manipulative behavior, potential poor decision making on the Y/N perspective. I write things I find interesting and if that offends you, then please don’t read.

Red in the title means its a WIP (typed up concept in my Docs just waiting to be finished/edited/published), and will hopefully be released soon.

Gojo x You (my golden boy makes me feral)

believe it or not, this man has his own masterlist

Gojo x You x Geto

╰┈➤Nanny 🔪⭑summary: Isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, you sell yourself to the Gojo Clan in an attempt to change your favorite characters fates. You change many things, and are able to see the boys grow peacefully. Yet now with them out of the clan house you find yourself in a predicament. Your arranged marriage. warnings: small age gap, abnorm dynamic

this is a series: a second?,

╰┈➤Sweeter ♡ 🔪 🔞⭑ summary: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

this has a smutty p.2

Geto x You (he never comes far behind)

╰┈➤pretty (older and discontinued, but if you reallllly wanna read it?)

╰┈➤Pretty 🔪⭑ summary: You're Gojo's cute little sister. And Suguru just cant get enough of you.

this is a series: did you want a 2?, a 3? and a 4?,

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

╰┈➤Try the Priest 🔪⭑ summary: Your best friend, Suguru Geto, has a warrant on his head. You hadn't heard from him since then, and you thought your friendship was as good as dead. So why is he on your front porch?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

╰┈➤ My Leader 🔪🔞 ⭑ summary: suguru geto was all for the betterment of the world--eradicating the non-sorcerers in society, and collecting people to stand in the new world with him. it's no different when he finds you--an untrained sorcerer, so eager and desperate for validation-- a hint at sanity when no one else could see the monsters around you. but what happens if he takes you in only to find himself changing his mind. warnings: pwp, voyeurism, gore, blood, murder, dark undertones, size kink smut, you aren't in your right mind either, fingering, marking, manipulation, belittling and teasing

Toge x You

Yuji x You

╰┈➤Shine 🔪⭑ summary: You're a famous pop idol that Yuji adores. what more is there to say?

Megumi x You

╰┈➤Sheets 🔪 ⭑ summary: Your arranged marriage to Toji Fushiguro had been sudden and unexpected, but now you found yourself living under his roof alongside his moody stepson. Your only directive from your clan head before moving in was clear: keep a close eye on Toji, the notorious Sorcerer Killer, and his son, a potential sorcerer prodigy. warnings: arranged marriage, forced marriage, violence, step-cest, mommy kinks, age gap

this is a series: another? , and another? , this 4?, a 5?, is that a 6?, did i spy a 7?, an 8th??, a 9, 10,

Toji x You

Choso x You

Yuta x You

╰┈➤Desperation 🔪🔞 ⭑ summary: Yuta’s really gotta thing for you and you’ve got one for him. warning: abnorm dynamic, knife play, borderline somno, dom material

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘��⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

╰┈➤Yuuuuutttaaaa 🔪 🔪 🔞 ⭑ summary: You and yuta have been best friends for years warnings: somno, dub/non- con, forced breeding, this one’s a little intense

Nanami x You

AN: This anime has been my obsession for the last few months

I post updates in this community so feel free to check it out: https://www.tumblr.com/communities/obsessedjjk

And home

[lemoncrushh]

The 2016 Blurbs

These are the rest of my writings from 2016. Each blurb is less than 1k words, so I decided to just combine them into one post.

Some of these are angsty, some fluffy, and some just plain silly. There is only one with sexual content and it's in Harry's POV. Please take these for what they are. I do not consider these anywhere close to my best writing lol (though I have always been proud of the Pumpkins & Princesses one).

We're Not Fine based on a prompt, sad, 642 words

You sniffed as you stared up at your ceiling, waiting for Harry to call you back.

For weeks you'd felt like you were drifting apart. You didn't see him as often as you used to, your conversations were cut short, and even his texts seemed vague and uninterested. You'd experienced this kind of behavior before. Eventually the guy would stop communicating with you altogether and you knew it was over. You hoped to hell this wasn't going to happen with Harry.

I think we should talk

That was the text you'd sent him earlier that day.

Okay, he'd texted back. What do you wanna talk about?

Us

He'd waited a while to respond, making you anxious.

I'll call you later. We can talk then.

You'd blown it. You knew it deep down in your soul. You backtracked in your mind trying to recall every little detail, every thing you might have done to make him not want you anymore. Maybe you didn't show him enough that you cared. Or maybe you smothered him. Maybe he wanted space and you hadn't given him enough.

As another tear fell from your eye, you heard your phone ring.

"Hi," you said when you answered it.

"Hey." He didn't really sound excited to talk to you. Just from that one word you got the idea that he wasn't in the mood and wanted to get this, whatever this was, over with.

"What are you doing?" you choked, deciding to make small talk to prolong the inevitable.

"Nothing really. Just ate dinner."

"Oh." You swallowed hard, trying to think of something else to say. "You've been pretty busy, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "And I'll be busy for a while."

You cringed like you'd just been slapped. That was a brush off if you'd ever heard one. You shut your eyes and wiped the tears from your cheeks. Then taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly.

"I miss you," you finally admitted.

Silence. Harry's line was quiet until you heard him sigh. He wasn't going to say it back. The truth hit you in the chest. You began to sob softly.

"We're fine, Harry," you muttered. "Please tell me we're fine."

"We're not fine."

Shit.

"What happened?" you asked.

"Nothing happened," he said, enunciating the word. "It's not one thing."

You took a shaky breath. "What did I do? Tell me."

"Baby..." Harry sighed.

You wanted to scream at him, but you felt like your throat was closing up.

"You didn't do anything," he added.

"Is...is there someone else?" You bit your lip, afraid to hear the answer.

"No."

"Great," you mumbled sarcastically. "Just great."

You almost wished there was someone else. At least you'd have something and someone to blame other than yourself.

"What do you mean?" Harry inquired.

"I'm just...I'm not good enough for you."

"Baby, no. Please don't think that."

"Stop calling me baby!" you finally managed to yell.

Harry was quiet again for a minute. "I'm trying to tell you it's not your fault. Or anything you did. We've just grown apart."

You tried to hold back the tears that were welling in your eyes, but it was getting more and more difficult.

"Haven't you noticed it too?" Harry added softly. "I know you have."

"I'd hoped I was wrong," you admitted.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Yeah...me too."

"I still care a lot about you."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at the ceiling. "Sure."

"I mean it," said Harry. "But...you don't have to believe me."

You laid in silence again until you decided it was time.

"I guess this is it, then. Goodbye, Harry."

"Bye, [Y/N]. I really am sorry."

"Yeah."

Before you could change your mind, you pressed the button to disconnect the call. Dropping the phone next to you, you finally let yourself cry.

Bad Dream sad + fluffy, 859 words

The house was dark. You could barely see two feet in front of you, let alone find your way to the wall to reach the light switch.

"Harry?" you called out, but you got no reply.

You tiptoed slowly until you reached the staircase. Feeling along the wall, you finally found the switch, but no light shown when you flipped it. You cursed under your breath, your heart racing with anxiety. You hated being alone in the dark.

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, you felt for the banister, pulling yourself up the first step, then the second and third. It seemed as though the staircase was never ending, but finally you reached the top. This time you knew you had to find some source of light. But as you turned and faced the right side of the landing, you heard a sound.

"Harry?" you called out once more, only this time your voice sounded different - strained and unfamiliar.

Taking a step forward, you heard the sound again. Curiosity and adrenaline fueling you, you began to walk faster, no longer afraid of the darkness. Reaching a door at the end of the hall, your hand found the knob and turned it slowly. You felt like your heart was in your throat, beating so loudly you could barely breathe. Easing the door open however, the sight you saw made your heart drop to the floor.

"Wh-wha-what?" you stammered, unable to get a full sentence out.

You couldn't see the girl he was with, a faceless woman, but it didn't matter. It was another woman nonetheless.

"H-Harry?" you choked.

Turning his body to face you, he gave you a look of contempt.

"Oh. Hey," he said with no feeling whatsoever. His tone was cold as stone. You thought you might throw up.

"What are you doing?" you asked stupidly, knowing exactly the answer to your question.

Harry chuckled, his bare chest shaking. He raised a brow as his hand slid down the back of the faceless woman that clung to him.

"Exactly what it looks like," he replied, not trying to deny a thing. You almost wished he would so you could call him on it.

You felt the bile rise to your throat, swallowing hard to push it down. Your hands balled into fists at your sides, your body shaking with a mixture of sobs and anger.

"You asshole!" you shouted before turning around and running for the stairs.

You half expected him to run after you, but he didn't. Although tears obstructed your vision, you managed to find the staircase. Your body continued to shake as you heard yourself cry out his name.

"Harrryyyyyy!!!"

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your arm, shaking you.

"Baby..." you heard someone say faintly. It sounded really far away. You blinked your eyes open, trying to focus. Where were you?

"Baby, you were dreaming," the voice said louder.

"Harry?" you turned over, grasping at his chest. "Oh my god, Harry!"

Wrapping his arms around you as you cried, he kissed the top of your head.

"Oh love, it's okay," he cooed. "You had a nightmare."

"Please don't leave me," you whined, your body still shaking as you buried your head in his chest.

"What? What are you talking about?"

You continued to sob, thinking about the horrible dream. It had felt so real. How could anything so awful feel so real?

"Please..." you repeated. "I love you so much."

"Oh, baby," Harry murmured, "Look at me."

Swallowing hard, you lifted your head. His handsome face shown only concern, no sign of the hateful look he'd given you in your nightmare. But the memory still shook you to the core.

"I love you, too," he said as he stared into your eyes. "Now what's this all about?"

"I don't know," you sniffed. "I just had the most horrible dream."

"Obviously," he narrowed his eyes, sliding his hands under your ears. He gently wiped away the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "Wanna talk about it?"

You shook your head vigorously. "No. It's too unbearable to repeat."

The idea that someone you were madly in love with and who was supposed to love you back could act the complete opposite was the last thing you wanted to experience. Even if it had been just a bad dream, there was no way you think about it again.

Harry nodded, placing a soft kiss on your nose. "Okay. We don't have to relive it."

He kissed your lips then, making you sigh, slowly beginning to feel relaxed.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Water?"

"I just want you to hold me," you muttered.

The corners of his mouth curled up into his signature smile as you felt him pull you closer. "You got it."

Resting your head on his chest, you breathed in his scent, a beautiful calm coming over you. You kissed his skin softly, bringing your hand next to your head.

"It's okay," Harry said again, his fingers raking up your back.

His breath tickled your hair as you listened to his heartbeat, soothing you until you fell into a deep slumber.

What If It Stinks? based on a prompt, super corny, 562 words

You pushed the door to your apartment open with your elbow, juggling bags of groceries. You'd just spent two glorious weeks away with Harry, so you'd stopped at the store on the way home, knowing your refrigerator and cabinets needed restocking. After running a couple errands of his own, Harry was going to meet you at your place for dinner.

Placing the bags on the counter, you began to unload your groceries. Halfway through the second bag, you heard a knock on the door, alerting you of Harry's arrival.

"Hey, don't I know you?" you teased, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.

"I think I've seen you somewhere," he smirked. "Was just a couple hours ago, right?"

Pulling him inside, you shut the door behind him.

"You're just in time to help me put all this away," you said.

"Oh, fun," he remarked sarcastically, following you into the kitchen.

You handed him a bag for him to get started on while you continued unloading the contents of your bag.

"Um...babe?" you heard Harry ask.

You turned to see him standing with the fridge door open, his head dipped to look inside.

"Yeah?" you inquired.

Harry crinkled his nose. "Did you clean this out before you left?"

"Before we left for our trip? I think so. Why?"

Coming to stand next to him, you watched him lift his hand and point. "What's that?"

You felt your stomach churn when you looked at the container. "Oh no," you grimaced.

"What is it?" Harry repeated as you grabbed the aluminum foil covered baking dish and pulled it out, setting it on the counter.

"Salmon," you groaned.

"That's been in there for two weeks?"

You nodded, feeling the color rise to your cheeks. "Damn."

Harry made a noise behind you like he was gagging.

"I guess I forgot," you admitted shyly.

Cringing, you slowly began to lift the aluminum foil before stopping and looking back at Harry. He already had his hands covering his mouth and nose.

"What if it stinks?" you asked.

"Don't worry, it will," he replied, his voice muffled.

You cursed under your breath again as Harry grabbed one of the grocery bags and held it open for you.

"Toss it in here," he told you.

Lifting the foil once more, you ripped it off the dish like a Band Aid. Then as you held your breath, you emptied the soiled fish into the bag.

"Ewwww!" you exclaimed, practically dancing on your tip toes as your flailed your arms.

"That's foul," Harry added, tying the bag closed and dropping it into your trash can. "We can't leave this in here."

"I guess I should take it to the dumpster," you said.

"I'll do it."

You watched as Harry grabbed your trash and headed out the door, a look of disgust on his face. Still completely embarrassed and annoyed with yourself, you got to work scrubbing the baking dish, using more dish soap than would normally be required.

Once it was clean, you started putting the rest of your groceries away, though the stench still lingered in the air. You called yourself every stupid name in the book before Harry returned.

"Ugh," he sounded as she shut the door. "That was awful."

"I'm so sorry," you muttered.

"No worries," he said. "But let's fumigate this place and go out to eat instead."

I Swear I'm Not Scared based on a prompt, fluffy, 649 words

Harry's face seemed to glow in the moonlight as you stood next to him, your fingers intertwined. Although he looked out at the ocean, you couldn't seem to peel your eyes away from him.

You'd been dating for a while, but lately you'd started getting the feeling that things were moving forward, that they were getting serious. Your heart nearly beat out of your chest every time he looked at you. Something was different in his eyes, and you'd begun to wonder if he might be getting to close to saying those three words.

Catching you staring at him out of the corner of his eye, he turned and grinned at you.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice deep and calm.

You shook your head. "Nothing."

"That's your response every time I ask you," he joked. "I reckon you need to come up with something else."

You felt yourself blush, grateful that the night kept it from being obvious. You shrugged, trying to play it off.

"Just like being here with you," you said.

Sliding his hands on your waist, Harry pulled you closer.

"Me too," he whispered before lowering his mouth onto yours.

Just like every kiss before, your stomach flipped and you felt a warm sensation all over. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him back hungrily, a spark igniting every time your tongue met his.

When you finally broke from the kiss, Harry's gaze burned into yours, his eyelids heavy.

"[Y/N]," he murmured, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Yes?" you asked breathlessly.

"I..."

Oh God, was he going to say it? You practically held your breath as you waited for him to finish his sentence. You watched him swallow hard before taking a deep breath of his own and letting it out slowly.

"I hope you're feeling what I'm feeling," he finally spoke.

"What are you feeling, Harry?" you blinked.

Harry chuckled nervously, his hands running up your back. The ocean breeze whipped his hair and you lifted a hand to tuck a strand behind his ear.

"I feel myself falling for you, [Y/N]," he admitted softly.

Staring into his eyes, his expression was completely serious now. You knew he was waiting for you to speak, but you weren't sure what to say exactly. You lowered your gaze to the cross laying on his chest, focusing on it before you heard him clear his throat.

"Don't get quiet on me, baby," he said. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Um..." you stammered, your body suddenly shaking. Harry noticed, rubbing your arms when you dropped them.

"You feel it too, don't you?" he inquired softly.

You weren't sure why you were trembling so. It wasn't like you hadn't been thinking the same thing. Of course felt it too. But you'd felt it before, and had gone through enough heartbreak.

"Falling on love is so frightening," you finally muttered, looking down at your hands.

"It can be," Harry stated, sliding his hand under your ear, making you lift your head to look up at him. "But I've been feeling this for a while now. And...I swear, I'm not scared."

Your face lit up at his words. "Really?

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

You bit your lip, gripping the hem of his shirt in your fists. You felt your body relax as you allowed your chest to press against him. His hands cupped your face as he gazed into your eyes.

"Fall with me, love," he pleaded. "I'll catch you."

Sliding your hands up his chest again, you nodded. He pulled you into a deep kiss, his fingers tangled in your hair. You tasted the salt air on his tongue as the tide rolled in, tickling the sand across your toes. It was the perfect moment, the perfect kiss.

When you finally let him go to look at his face, you knew.

"Okay," you whispered.

Cheated angsty + sad (obviously), i believe the prompt was "what a shocker, you have an excuse", 751 words

"You were with someone else that night, weren't you?" you choked.

Harry had seemed distant to you for a while now, and you'd suspected that there had been another woman. One particular evening you had tried calling and texting him, receiving no reply. Even the next day when you'd finally gotten a hold of him, his words were short as though he was trying to hide something. You'd decided to brush it off, giving him the benefit of the doubt, especially after he'd told you he just wasn't feeling well and wanted to be alone and catch up on some sleep.

Harry glared at you for a moment before looking at the ground. You knew then that your suspicions had been correct. Still, his next words were harsh and felt like a knife twisting in your heart.

"Yeah," he muttered, "I cheated."

You stood frozen, unable to move. You wondered how you were still breathing. Harry's confession crushed you to the bone. Surely this wasn't happening. It had to be a dream.

You tried to move your lips, to make out a word or two, but you couldn't seem to get out anything past a "wha."

"I'm sorry," Harry finally added. "I didn't mean to."

You raised your eyebrows, finally finding your voice.

"Didn't mean to?"

"Yeah," he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Why do people always say that?" you threw up your arms. "Nobody means to cheat. They don't go out thinking 'I'm gonna find some girl to screw, I really feel like cheating tonight.' It doesn't happen like that, Harry."

He stared at you, swallowing hard. "You're right," he nodded. "I'm sorry."

You wanted to tell him to shut up, to scream at him, to tell him to go to hell. But you remained silent for what seemed like eons, watching him pull his hands out of his pockets, run his fingers through his hair, scratch his face, and shove his hands back in his pockets again. He was nervous. As he should be.

"Who is she?" you finally whispered. When he opened his mouth, you lifted a hand. "No. Never mind. I don't wanna know."

Grabbing your bag and swinging it over your shoulder, you mumbled a curse word under your breath as you turned for the door.

"Wait!" Harry called after you. "Where are you going?"

Swinging the door open, you didn't bother to look back.

"Where the fuck do you think I'm going? I'm out of here."

You walked outside toward your car that you'd parked out front. You hadn't realized Harry had followed you until you opened the car door and tossed your bag inside.

"At least hear me out," he said, making you jump.

"Hear you out?" you asked incredulously, turning to face him.

Harry nodded. "Let me explain what hap-"

"Oh what a shocker," you threw up your hands. "You have an excuse."

Harry stared at you again, his mouth a tight line.

"Let's hear it then," you rolled your eyes. "Do tell!"

He dropped his shoulders, his eyes on the ground again. You swallowed back the tears that had begun to rise in your throat, just wanting to get this over with. When Harry stayed silent, you spoke again.

"I'm waiting."

He lifted his head to look at you then, a pathetic plea for sympathy on his face.

"Let's see if I can help you," you began. "You were drunk, she was all over you, giving you attention and you liked it. You succumbed to her advances, even though you were thinking about me the whole time. You regretted it afterwards, wanting so bad to call me and hear my voice, but you felt guilty and afraid."

Harry gazed past you, no longer able to make eye contact.

"Something like that," he muttered.

"Give me a break," you rolled your eyes again.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Stop!" you shook your head. "Just...stop."

You turned and climbed into the car.

"Baby, I-"

"Bye, Harry," you interrupted, no longer interested anything else that fell from his lips. "Don't call me."

Slamming the door, you turned the key in the ignition. As you drove away, you watched him in your rearview mirror, standing in his front yard. You weren't sure how long he stood there after you turned the corner, nor did you care. You wiped away a single tear that had escaped down your cheek, the only one you were willing to let fall over him.

You've Gone to the Bathroom Fifty Times Today based on a prompt, fluffy, 858 words

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your dress and smoothing out the fabric with your hands.

"You look beautiful," you heard from behind you.

You grinned in the mirror as Harry came up and wrapped his arms around your waist. You lightly brushed the backs of his hands with your fingertips as you leaned into his body. Feeling him hum against your neck, you suddenly felt a twitch. You threaded your fingers through his, pulling his hands away from you.

"Be right back," you said.

"Again?" he frowned, dropping his arms.

"Sorry," you called as you hurried to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

As flushed the toilet, you replayed the scenario in your head. The moment you would tell him. How you would tell him. You'd had it sorted out for the past week. You thought you had it down, that everything would work out smoothly, without a hitch.

Only today you'd started feeling incredibly nervous. You were worried that he'd started to catch on. You'd made so many trips to the bathroom, surely he had to think something was up.

You heard a knock on the door then, making you jump.

"Babe!" Harry called from the other side. "We're gonna be late if we don't leave now."

"Okay!" you answered. "I'm coming."

After you washed your hands and touched up your lipstick, you felt it again. Then you shook your head and opened the door. Harry cocked a brow as he looked at you in question.

"You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you nodded, grabbing your clutch from the bed that matched your shoes. "What time are we supposed to be there?"

"Twenty minutes," he replied.

You sighed, knowing you would probably be at least ten minutes late as it was. All because of you.

"Let's go," you muttered, following him out of the bedroom.

The dinner party was already in full swing when you arrived, just like you'd anticipated. You cursed under your breath as Harry lead you through the doors to the dining room, his hand on the small of your back.

"It's okay," he assured you as he whispered in your ear.

The fortunate thing about your tardiness was that you'd missed cocktails. You had already decided you would politely decline when offered any, but at least now you could just sit down and not have to awkwardly mingle with a glass of water in your hand.

Ten minutes into the meal, however, you stood and excused yourself. This time Harry gave you a quizzical look, but you didn't have time to explain before rushing to the toilet. You did manage to hear him say that you'd been under the weather, no doubt trying to give his own assumption to the other guests.

You hated this. This was supposed to be a wonderful, magical night. It was only a couple hours before you were going to tell him. But you hadn't anticipated feeling like crap.

Finally cleaning up, splashing a bit of cool water on your face, you opened the bathroom door to see Harry leaning against the wall.

"What are you doing out here?" you inquired.

"Checking on you," he said. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, giving a tight-lipped smile. "Sure."

"You've gone to the bathroom fifty times today."

You chuckled nervously. "Fifty? That's a lot."

"C'mon, love," Harry urged, pushing himself off the wall with his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shrugged. "Just been drinking a lot of water. Makes me have to go."

He stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands. Then he gazed into your eyes, making you melt and breaking your defenses like he was always so good at doing.

"Do you have something to tell me?" he asked softly.

You swallowed hard, looking down at your joined hands. Harry's thumbs ran across your knuckles, silently urging you to speak.

"Wh-what might that be?" you stumbled.

When Harry didn't reply, you lifted your eyes again. His seemed to be twinkling, though his mouth had yet to curve into a smile.

"Baby, are you..."

Though he didn't finish his sentence, you knew precisely what he was asking. You bit your lip as you felt the tears begin to well in your eyes. Harry's face lit up then at the unspoken confirmation.

"You are?" he choked.

Still unable to speak, you nodded silently.

A smile now spreading across his face, Harry cupped yours in his hands before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

"I'm so happy," he half laughed, half cried against your mouth.

This wasn't the way you had planned to tell him, in the middle of the hallway at a dinner party. But seeing him so completely giddy with the knowledge, you couldn't have picked a better time or place.

"Let me hear you say it," he sighed.

"Say it?"

You looked into his eyes again which were now utterly dancing, and you knew what he meant. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his nose.

"I'm pregnant, Harry. I'm having your baby."

Harry giggled with glee before resting his forehead against yours.

"Our baby," he whispered. "You're having our baby."

Shower in Harry's POV, 560 words

I turned on the shower, stepping back to allow the water to heat up and flow freely as I undressed. Every muscle in my body ached from my neck to the balls of my feet. This film was taking a lot of out of me, but I never complained. I knew how lucky I was.

The bathroom filled with steam, clearing my nostrils and fogging up the mirror. Stepping underneath the nearly scalding water, I dropped my head, allowing the stream to hit my shoulder blades. The water immediately darkened beneath my feet, the mud from the day's scene dissolving and running down my back. I felt my muscles loosen, the tightness easing slowly from the water pressure.

I leaned my head back then in order for the shower to wet my hair before turning around and doing the same with my face. Shutting my eyes, I exhaled deeply as the water flowed down my chest. I wasn't sure if I'd ever been so exhausted, even after a day filled with interviews or a concert where I'd deliberately given my all because I'd been under the weather. I felt like I could collapse on my massive hotel bed and not wake up until the morning. And after this shower, I planned to do just that.

Once I was satisfied with the removal of all mud and dirt, I turned around once more, reaching for the shampoo. I washed my hair gingerly, half chuckling to myself that it had been nearly three months and I was still using too much shampoo, temporarily forgetting that I no longer had long curls. After rinsing my hair, I grabbed the soap. That was when I noticed it. My semi-erection. Shit.

It wasn't like I was turned on. A man doesn't really need inspiration to get hard. Sometimes it just happens. I tried to ignore it as I lathered my body with soap, the suds forming on my arms and chest. When my hand slid down to my stomach, however, I saw my dick twitch and felt a burning desire I hadn't been prepared for. Dropping the soap in the dish, I let my right hand roam down and encircle my cock which was now fully erect. My hand slid up and down the shaft a few times as I watched the precum collect at the tip. Biting my lip, my left hand held up the shower wall next to me, the shower stream still beating against my back.

Fuck, I cursed as I began to pump faster, the mix of friction and slipperiness doing me in. My thumb grazed across the head of my cock repeatedly and I heard myself let out a deep groan. My chest rose and fell with each quick breath.

I swallowed hard as I felt myself get close. Then with barely two more jerks of my wrist, I came, a guttural moan escaping my throat.

My mouth fell open as I tried to get my bearings and catch my breath. Then standing up straight, I grabbed the soap once again, finishing the rest of my shower.

When I stepped out into the steam-filled bathroom, wrapping a towel around my waist, my eyelids were heavier than ever. Opening the door, I dropped the towel and collapsed onto the bed.

I don't think I'd ever had such a good night's sleep.

Pumpkins & Princesses fluffy, 850 words

Your eyes popped open to near darkness, the only light seeming to come from the hallway, underneath the door. You groaned, rolling over, your hand reaching out but feeling nothing but mattress on Harry's side of the bed.

"Baby?" you called out, your voice groggy from sleep.

When no answer came, you sat up, turning on the bedside lamp. You were indeed alone in your room.

With a confused pout, you tossed the sheets aside, climbing out of bed. Nearing the doorway, you thought you heard voices. Your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door, noticing that the light was coming from your little girl's room.

Stepping into the hallway, you heard a giggle, followed by the sound of Harry's voice.

"Look for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities..."

Stopping in your tracks, you sucked in your lips. Tiptoeing very slowly, you crept to your daughter's bedroom door which was cracked open and peeked inside. Harry was dancing around the room, a stuffed animal in each hand as he sang the song from The Jungle Book. You covered your mouth with your hands to keep from giggling. When he'd finished the song, he knelt down next to the bed.

"Do another one, Daddy," your daughter demanded.

"Alright," said Harry, choosing several more toys and lining them up.

"Heigh-Ho, Heigh-Ho, it's home from work we go..."

Your child continued to giggle as Harry made the dolls bounce on the bed while he sang and whistled. For the last four years watching Harry interact with or show affection to your daughter always lit you up inside. But this...this had to be the best thing you'd ever witnessed.

You continued to stand in the hallway, not wanting to interrupt the father-daughter bond they were having. Harry continued his Disney sing-along with "I Just Can't Wait To Be King", going directly into "Hakuna Matata".

"It means no worries, for the rest of your days..." he sang.

Your daughter was bouncing on her bed, trying her best to sing along. You almost lost it when she mispronounced "philosophy", biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"Alright pumpkin," breathed Harry when the song was finished. "You need to get to sleep now."

"One more, Daddy!" she whined, defiantly lying back in her bed as Harry covered her with the blanket.

"It's late, love," he argued. "Way past your bedtime."

"Pleeeease!" she begged.

Harry sighed. "One more. But it's gonna be a slow one to calm you."

Your child beamed up at her father, the same dimple in her cheek. "Okay."

"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat..." Harry began the first phrase of "Part of Your World".

"Daddy!" your daughter exclaimed.

"What?"

"That's a princess song!"

"So?" Harry shrugged. "I can sing a princess song."

"You're not a princess though," she giggled.

Harry's eyes widened, feigning offense. "Yes I am."

You turned your head, once again trying to keep your composure so they wouldn't find out you were eavesdropping.

Your little girl giggled harder. "I thought I was a princess."

"Okay, then," Harry nodded. "I'm singing a princess song to you."

"Okay," she finally agreed, shutting her eyes.

Harry continued the song, ending after the first chorus.

"I'm not sure I know the rest, pumpkin," he whispered, giving his little girl a kiss on the nose.

"Mummy does," she said.

"Hmm," Harry nodded. "Mummy knows a lot of things."

"Yes," your daughter agreed. "She's a princess too."

Harry chuckled. "That she is."

"She's like Ariel," she added with a yawn. You could tell she was fading.

"Your mum's a mermaid?" Harry raised a brow.

"Uh huh. Like the one on your arm."

"Ah, I see."

"She's magic."

Harry patted your daughter's head, giving her one last kiss on her forehead.

"I'll agree with you there, kid."

When you saw Harry rise from the floor, you quickly ran back to your bedroom. As you crawled back into bed, you realized your cheeks were wet with tears. You swiftly wiped them away with the back of your hand just as Harry emerged from the hallway.

"Hey," he said softly. "What are you doing up?"

You bit your lip, but it was all you could do to keep from crying again.

"Baby..." he cooed, crawling onto the bed next to you. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shook your head vigorously. "Nothing's wrong at all. Everything is absolutely perfect."

Harry gazed into your eyes for a moment before pulling you to him in a tight hug. Your head fell on his shoulder as you embraced him.

"I love you so much," you declared in his ear.

"I love you, too," he echoed before pulling back to look at you again. "You sure you're okay?"

A smile spread across your face as you nodded. "Never better."

Harry cupped your face in his hands, giving you a tender kiss. Just as your lips separated, his own grew into a smirk.

"You heard me singing Disney songs, didn't you?"

You giggled, giving him a quick peck. "Yes, I did. And it was the best thing I've ever heard in my life."

The Lilac Jumper fluffy, 833 words

"I'm gonna miss you," you whispered.

"I'll miss you more," he said.

Pulling you into a tight embrace, you inhaled the scent of him as your nose pressed against his sweater. His favorite purple sweater, or as he called it, his lilac jumper. To you it smelled like lavender, though that may have just been a mental association you tied to it because of its shade.

"Please don't forget me," you teased.

"C'mon, love, how could I forget you?" Harry's voice vibrated through his chest.

You raised your head to look up at him, his eyes dancing, his dimple dipped in his cheek. You returned his smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"All those adoring fans," you continued, "how can I compare?"

Harry's smile faded as he took your face in his hands.

"I love you," he said.

Your eyes blinked several times as you stared at him. Harry had yet to declare his love for you, although several times you'd thought he was going to say it, only to be left a bit disappointed when he didn't.

"Wh- really?"

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Color rose to your cheeks as your smile grew.

"I love you, too," you practically cheered.

Harry lowered his mouth to yours, kissing you passionately. His hands slid to the back of your head, your hair threading through his fingers. His lips were soft, yet firm as he kissed you with fervor. You must have stood there for several minutes until you heard his phone ring in his back pocket.

"Sorry, love," he muttered, separating from your lips. "I have to go."

You felt horrible. It wasn't that time of the month, but you had horrible stomach cramps and a headache that hadn't gone away in two days. You weren't sure if it wasn't something you ate or not. But after throwing up for the third time today, you finally resolved to taking a shower and sipping on a cup of tea.

When you got out of the shower, you returned to the bedroom, feeling a little bit better, knowing you needed to get something in your tummy. Your body shook from the cool temperature in the house, and as you rummaged through your drawers to find something comfortable to put on, you remembered.

With a sigh, you opened your bottom drawer, pulling out Harry's purple sweater. You brought it to your nose, taking a deep sniff. Yep, lavender. You pulled it over your head, shoving your arms through the sleeves, then grabbed a pair of black leggings. Leaving your hair damp, you sauntered into the kitchen to make the tea, then sat on the sofa with your phone.

It was just about time for Harry to FaceTime you.

Sipping on your tea, you grabbed a nearby throw and covered yourself with it. You scrolled through a few emails and instagram pics on your phone until you saw Harry's name commanded the screen, requesting a FaceTime call.

"Hi, baby," you said meagerly.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted, his gorgeous face smiling at you. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," you shrugged, still not feeling a hundred percent. But you didn't want to bother Harry with that. However, you couldn't fool him. He sensed something in your tone.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you insisted. "Just haven't been feeling that great. But I'll be okay."

Harry raised his brows. "You have a cold?"

"No, stomach bug or something. It's nothing."

"Doesn't sound like nothing," he argued. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

You shut your eyes and shook your head. It was so like him to be concerned.

"I'm okay, Harry, really. It's just been a couple days. If it persists, I'll go to the doctor."

"Promise me you will," he said.

You nodded vigorously. "I will. Now tell me about Vancouver."

"Gorgeous here," Harry grinned.

"Yeah? I always wanted to go there."

"I'll bring you here sometime," he offered.

"Is it cold?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Which reminds me, I wanted to ask you... I coulda sworn I packed my lilac jumper. But I can't find it. Did I leave it there?"

"Um..." you sounded, holding out the M.

"What?"

With a sheepish grin, you lowered the blanket covering you, revealing the purple sweater you were currently wearing. Harry chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Are you mad?" you asked him.

"No," he replied. "But why do you have it?"

"I um...I selfishly didn't want you to take it with you," you admitted. "I like it here with me when you're not."

Harry's expression softened. "That's sweet. But why that jumper?"

"Because you were wearing it that day," you explained softly.

"What day?"

"The day you first told me you loved me."

Harry sighed and you could see him sit back in his chair. "I love that. It's wonderful."

You blinked, feeling relief. "So you're not mad."

"Of course not," said Harry. "You should keep it while I'm gone."

"Good," you beamed.

"I love you, [Y/N]," he declared.

"I love you too, Harry."

Seven-Tiered Cake: The Interview written in interview style with Harry and Y/N, fluffy, 948 words

Singer, songwriter, actor, and one-fourth of the pop band One Direction, newlywed Harry Styles and his bride, Hollywood baker [Y/N], sat down to chat with us for a bit. In our exclusive interview, the couple discussed marriage, Monday movie nights, and a seven-tiered wedding cake.

Interviewer: Hi, thanks for coming.

Harry Styles: You're welcome. Thanks for having us.

Int: So let's get right down to it. How long have you two been married now?

HS: [Looks at y/n] A little over...

Y/N: Three months.

HS: Yeah, a little over three months.

Int: And how are you liking it so far?

Y/N: It's great!

HS: Wonderful!

Int: Tell me about the wedding. I know most of the world have seen the loads of pictures, Y/N in your gorgeous gown, that enormous cake. It was all so beautiful.

Y/N: It really was a beautiful wedding.

HS: Nothing compared to her, though [smiles at y/n, squeezes her hand]. She was the most beautiful.

Int: Were you nervous?

HS: No.

Y/N: Oh, I was. I was a mess [laughs].

HS: She didn't show it though.

Y/N: [Looks at Harry] I might've been most nervous about the cake.

Int: Let's talk about that cake. Rumor was that you made it together.

Y/N: We did. It was Harry's idea.

Int: Really?

HS: [Chuckles] Don't make me say it.

Int: Make you say what?

Y/N: You know your fans wanna hear you say it.

HS: I used to be a baker.

Y/N: [Laughs and leans over to kiss Harry on the cheek] They're gonna love you more now.

Int: So tell me about this cake.

Y/N: So, it was one I'd made before, only it was just a four-tiered cake. But Harry had the wild idea to have it be taller for our wedding.

HS: It was seven tiers.

Int: Why seven? Is that a lucky number for you?

Y/N: No. I just refused to make it more than that.

HS: [Laughs] She was chicken.

Y/N: Damn right, I was. It had to be carried in pieces by four people. If once piece fell, it would have been ruined. I just couldn't deal with more than seven. I wanted five. But I compromised.

HS: It made it there safely.

Y/N: Yeah.

Int: So how was it, making it together?

Y/N: [Looks at Harry] That part was fun. We had to make close to a hundred flowers out of fondant.

HS: [Smiles] We managed. We work well together.

Int: I'm picturing a lot of flour on the nose, cake batter on the ceiling, that sort of thing.

HS: [Laughs] It wasn't that messy...was it?

Y/N: I dunno, it was pretty messy. I was cleaning my kitchen for hours after.

HS: But I helped.

Y/N: [Puts hand on Harry's leg] Yes, you did, baby.

Int: You two are so cute. Which leads me to my next topic. You seem to be the quintessential couple to many, but I'm sure you also get some backlash. How do you handle that?

HS: Like with everything, you have to stay grounded. Keep your private life as private as possible. Any other opinions people have, let them have them.

Int: How do you feel, Y/N?

Y/N: I just kind of stay away from the drama. I know it's out there and people are talking, but they're not living my life. I choose to ignore it. They're gonna say what they want anyway. But I'm in this marriage, not them.

HS: I just hope enough people will understand how I feel about her, so eventually they'll feel that way about her too.

Int: What do you think makes a happy marriage?

HS: Um...ask me that in five years [chuckles]. No, really, it hasn't been that long yet. Or long enough for me to be an expert. I just...I just know how I feel. And I know she feels the same.

Y/N: I do.

HS: We like the same things. We want the same things.

Int: Do you want children?

HS: Oh, definitely. It's not something we're focusing on right now, but we definitely want kids someday.

Y/N: Right now we're having fun being kids together [smiles].

Int: What do you guys like to do for fun?

HS: We um...we have movie night.

Y/N: Every Monday.

HS: We decided we needed at least one night a week that was for us. We could always go out if there's a party or event, but with both of our schedules, most of the time weekends are pretty busy.

Y/N: And Mondays usually aren't.

HS: So we decided on having movie night on Mondays.

Int: Have you made every Monday?

HS: [Looks at y/n] I think we might've missed one here or there. If I was in London for something and she didn't come with.

Y/N: Yeah but that's rare. I don't think we've missed many.

Int: Who gets to pick the movie?

HS: [Points to y/n] This one.

Y/N: I do not! Not always.

HS: [Shakes head] Doesn't matter to me. I'm fine with whatever she picks.

Y/N: This is why we get along.

Int: Clearly. So, Harry I hear another film is in the works?

HS: Yeah, but I'm not allowed to talk about it yet.

Y/N: Ooh secrets.

Int: Fair enough. Well, thank you so much for chatting.

HS/Y/N: You're welcome.

Int: Best of luck to you both, and I hope you'll come talk again when the baby bug kicks in.

HS: [Chuckles] Okay, we will.

Thank you to anyone who has ever read any of my silly little fics.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 76: Oliver's Rescue

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, captivity, conditioning, drugging, blood ritual

October 1925

Oliver.

His master's song was muffled and far away, but still carried his name. Oliver tried to respond, but he couldn't seem to move.

Wake up.

His eyelids were like lead, his body stiff and heavy. The world tilted and dipped, and he realized that he was being carried.

Wake up, Oliver.

His master sounded scared, desperate. Why…

Oliver remembered what had happened, the fight with the vampire hunter, how he'd allow himself to be taken in the hopes that his master would be spared. The voice echoing in his head at least meant that his master was still alive, and communicating with him through the link between them that he rarely used.

If he was now in the clutches of the hunter, he definitely didn't want her to realize that he was awake. Instead, he kept his eyes shut tight and did his best to reach out to the voice in his head.

The communication wasn't in words, exactly, but in feelings and in song, and Oliver felt slow and clumsy as he tried to connect. He could feel his master's concern, and he did his best to convey that he was drugged, but unharmed.

The mental conversation was interrupted by a woman's voice. "Oh god, is that Oliver?"

"I sure hope so," said the hunter, "because it was like hell to rescue him."

"What's wrong with him? Is he okay?" The woman's voice seemed vaguely familiar, but Oliver couldn't quite place it in his foggy mind.

"I had to put him to sleep. I botched it and failed to kill his master. That means he could alert his master to the location of the safehouse if he figures out where he is -- and his master is a terrifyingly dangerous vampire. If you don't want to end up a thrall again…"

"He would do that?"

Oliver felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in the woman's voice, particularly since he had, in fact, just been communicating with his master. But he only wanted Alexander to retrieve him, not to harm anyone else, not even this hunter.

"Unfortunately, yes. Given his master's skills, it's safe to say that Oliver is a danger to everyone here. That's why I'll have to prepare to unenthrall him right away, and we'll have to make sure he can't escape or figure out where he is in the meantime."

The guilt was replaced by panic as Oliver tried to somehow relay this information to Alexander through their limited connection. Oliver wasn't sure if he understood, but he did feel a surge of anger in response, one which rippled through him as though it were his own.

"Shit, he's awake."

Oliver's eyes flew open, and he was looking into the face of the hunter who had kidnapped him, who had been carrying him princess-style through what looked like a run-down house. With his cover blown, he struggled out of the hunter's arms, only to flop ungracefully on the floor, still heavily drugged.

"Oliver!"

The face of the other woman swam into view, and he realized who the voice belonged to.

"Emily?" he croaked, his mouth parched.

"Help me restrain him," said the hunter sternly, hauling Oliver up by his armpits. "I'll need some extra time to prepare the ritual, and we have to make sure he can't escape."

"I don't want a ritual," Oliver protested weakly. "Just let me go. I don't need to be rescued."

"Get the sleeping draught from my bag and splash some under his nose. Be careful not to breathe it yourself."

"All right."

With his limbs still clumsy and slow, Oliver couldn't manage to get away from the hunter's strong arms holding him from behind. All he could do was thrash and hold his breath as Emily followed the hunter's instructions and smeared some of the potent sleeping potion under his nose. Even as he tried to hold his breath, he could still smell the sickly sweetness, his head starting to spin.

"That's good," said the hunter in his ear. "I know you don't believe me now, but I'm trying to help you."

Oliver wanted to protest further. He did know what the hunter was doing, he really did, but she just didn't understand his particular situation. He wasn't like Emily, whose master was planning to discard her the moment she was bored. Alexander needed him.

Didn't he?

But he'd thought about getting away before, hadn't he? When he first learned about Alexander's sire, and even before that, back in the auction house…

His head swirled with confusion as the sleeping concoction began to take hold once again. He found he couldn't offer any resistance as the hunter pulled him onto a chair and tied his arms and legs down, placing a blindfold around his eyes.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," she said, "but it really is for your own good. You'll see."

As Oliver's thoughts began to fade, he could hear the increasingly frantic music of his master, trying to reach him, but to no avail.

---

When Oliver was finally able to crack open his eyes again, he had no idea if he'd been out for five minutes or five hours. The ropes binding him into the chair chafed his wrists, and he felt stiff.

"Oh, are you awake? Vivian said you might wake up again before she was ready."

He managed to lift his heavy head, still disoriented. He was in the same dingy house as before, in a room that was mostly empty except for his chair and one other. Emily was sitting in an armchair reading the newspaper, looking very different than she had the last time Oliver had seen her, dressed in a plain blue shirt and khaki pants instead of a stylish dress and heels.

"Please don't put me back to sleep," he said. "I just want to talk." His master's song had faded from his head, giving him a little more space to think.

She put down the newspaper. "All right, but Vivian told me to put you back to sleep if you cause any trouble."

"Is Vivian the vampire hunter?"

"Yeah. She rescued me." Emily was staring at Oliver as though sizing him up. "She's trying to save people from vampires. I owe her everything. You remember me, don't you?"

"I do," said Oliver.

"I told her to go find you, since I felt guilty about what happened in the auction house, that I couldn't help you when you were being hypnotized. Now we're even, or we will be, I guess."

"You didn't have to do that," said Oliver. "I'm glad you got out. Your master…" He shuddered thinking of Emily with her mind gone, the way Jessica had done the same to him in only a moment. "She was awful. And she was going to throw you away. You didn't deserve that."

"I appreciated that, you know. When you tried to stand up for me in front of all the vampires. I didn't really understand what you were trying to say then, but I do now," she said. "And Vivian's going to do the same thing for you. She'll free you from enthrallment."

Oliver's gut churned. A part of him certainly felt like he should want it -- but more in the way that one feels one should want to do chores or exercise or tedious errands. He should want his mind restored, to be free of the vampires' influence…

…but it had been good for him, hadn't it? The situation forced him to admit to himself a truth he was trying to avoid -- that he had been drifting through life with no real purpose. He'd spent so many lonely, dull days in the bookstore, his only highlights a new acquisition or a particularly interesting customer. But with the vampires, he'd felt useful. Fulfilled. He'd tasted bliss, even if it was artificial…

"She doesn't need to do that," said Oliver. "I know it probably sounds crazy, but I was fine with my master. He treats me well, and I'm happy, and I really don't have anyone who's looking for me or anything that important to go back to, to be honest."

"What about your bookshop?" she demanded. "The entire time we were locked up, that's all you talked about, all the improvements you wanted to make to your bookshop. Remember?"

"Of course I do." He could never forget the bookshop, the place where he'd spent the vast majority of his life from childhood. He knew every nook and cranny so well, the smell of dust and book bindings, the way certain floorboards creaked, the uneven stairs up to his apartment, his comfortable chair piled with lumpy blankets. And he remembered being so desperate to get back there. When had he stopped thinking about his bookshop?

"Then you know you need to get back there, right?"

"Yes, I do, but…" The thought of his master's song, of the loneliness in his eyes, pulled him back. Oliver had been lonely, too. The idea of returning to his bookshop alone and resuming his former life felt strangely cold. "My master also needs me. I keep him company, and I help him get to sleep, and I…"

"Let him drink your blood."

Heat rose in Oliver's face as he thought of it, unwilling to fully admit to himself how much he would miss that particular aspect of his new life. "Yes, but -- he gives me so much in return. And it isn't so bad, really. It's -- it's pleasant, almost, in a strange way."

Emily sighed. "If you could listen to yourself… I remember you telling me how much you didn't want them to take your mind, how you hated the idea of being food for some monster, and now you're blushing and stammering just to think about it. The vampires really did do a number on you, didn't they? Not that I can talk. I had my memories completely erased, and they still aren't fully back."

"I'm sorry they did that to you," he said, and meant it. "I do know what I said then, but that was before I knew what it would be like. My master -- Alexander really has been kind to me, and I've enjoyed living with him, and not just because I was hypnotized. I mean, I was allowed to keep most of my mind…"

"Allowed to keep your mind?" she said. "Oliver, you're completely wrapped around that vampire's fingers."

"I'm not --"

"Don't you remember that I saw you at the Tiger's Eye? You were fawning all over that vampire's lap, letting him dote on you like a house cat."

Oliver was about to retort and point out that she was no different -- but that would only prove her point, considering how clearly ensorcelled she'd been. Was that how he had looked to other people? He had hardly considered it, too used to only being in the company of vampires and thralls.

Emily must be right. He really was that far under his master's spell, wasn't he? How could he ever think otherwise?

"But it's okay," she said. "Vivian has a ritual to undo most of the enthrallment. You'll be free."

"Free." It should be a joyous thing, so why did it feel like having a bucket of ice water upended over him?

Everything he had felt between his capture and now, had it all been a fabrication, a hypnotic illusion? The warm and comforting evenings, his deep satisfaction at serving his master, even those traces of affection? Was it all a lie, a soap bubble that could be so easily popped?

And the way his master wanted him and cherished him, refused to let him go, was that also just an act to keep Oliver in line?

"Hey, are you okay?" Emily asked. "I know it's a lot to think about."

Oliver nodded, trying not to cry. As much as he knew he should be grateful for the rescue, a greater part of him wished he were still back in the manor, his quiet evening uninterrupted, curled next to his master and reading to his heart's content.

Was it really so terrible, to be lost in an illusion? He'd spent his entire life with his mind three-quarters of the way in a book at all times. Was this so different?

But no matter how much he desired it, he'd never be truly safe with Alexander, not with the threat of his sire looming over them both. Freedom meant he'd never have to feel that sickening control wrap around his limbs ever again, never again blinded and degraded and forced to dance. Even as he thought it, though, he doubted it could be so easy. Could this hunter actually defy that vampire? Was a witch's ritual enough to deliver Oliver from his clutches?

The stairs creaked, and the vampire hunter entered the room. She'd divested herself of most of her kit, but that silver knife, the one she'd pressed against Oliver's neck, was still strapped to her belt. Behind her, a woman with red hair and a gray housecoat stood, looking a bit dazed.

"Oh, he's awake," said Vivian. "How are you feeling, Oliver?"

"I've had better nights," he said. He dimly remembered how he'd felt when Lily had him dragged him out of his cell, the loss of his mind inevitable. Why did he feel exactly like that now?

"You'll feel better once we've freed you from the vampire's hold on your mind," she said. "Well, you may feel worse before you feel better, but that's only because it can be hard to use your own mind again."

Oliver nodded. What else could he do? The ropes bit into his wrists.

"Emily, is it safe to untie him, or is he going to try and escape?"

Emily shook her head. "I don't think it's safe. He's very far gone."

Oliver wanted to protest, but he wasn't sure himself, torn between what he wanted and what he knew he should want.

"All right. I'll just untie him from the chair and leave the rest of his binds. Jenny, can you help?"

Vivian and the woman with her, Jenny, began to untie him from the chair, but as instructed, his wrists and ankles were still firmly bound together, preventing him from moving much. Vivian picked him up in her strong arms as though he were a sack of potatoes, and made her way back to the stairs. Oliver didn't bother to try and struggle, knowing it would be fruitless.

Emily and Jenny helped Vivian maneuver her parcel up the stairs and into the attic, and Oliver's chest tightened to see the chalk circles on the floor, stained in blood. So this was it -- and his desire to be back home with his master overtook any other sense in him. He involuntarily squirmed and thrashed, and the women nearly dropped him.

"Let me go!" he said. "I've changed my mind, I don't want this! Just let me go back!"

"Hold onto him! Get him in the circle!"

Master, he called out in his mind. Master, where are you?

He was placed in the middle of the circle, unable to stand or do anything but writhe like a pathetic worm.

"Just close your eyes and try to relax, Oliver." Vivian knelt in the circle in front of him, taking out her silver knife, and he flinched away from it. "You'll be glad that we helped you. I promise."

Master!

The connection to Alexander returned, and Oliver was overwhelmed with the feeling of despair and panic, adding to his own. He knew what his master was trying to say, that he didn't know where Oliver was, and Oliver couldn't offer any useful information. Even if he could, it'd be far too late.

Vivian sliced open her own hand and dripped her blood into the circle, chanting low. The music inside Oliver rose to a frantic crescendo. He felt something smeared on his forehead, couldn't flinch away in time.

It was too late.

The music stopped.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Thank you so much for reading about a man who was enthralled.

Important Note: There will be no new Bookseller chapters for the next two Sundays! I hope to occasionally post some other work you may enjoy, though. Bookseller will return in December.

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[pedrospatch]

a safe haven l six

Jackson! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist

summary: Joel opens up to you about a very traumatic loss; he makes a confession about his feelings towards you; you make a confession of your own and it leads to something more.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. fluff, infidelity, Joel and reader are having a full blown affair at this point, angst, talks of child loss (Sarah), lots of feelings come to the surface, two idiots realize they are in love. SMUT. oral sex (m receiving), size mention bc i will always be convinced our man is packing) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), reader discovers she likes praise, creampie.

word count: 8.4k

August 2024

The next two and a half weeks that had passed by had done so without major incident, but things had taken a somewhat complicated turn.

You and Joel still manage to see one another a handful of times even with the exhausting amount of hours he’s been putting into his patrol duties, though it isn’t nearly as often as either of you wanted or would have preferred. But there was no other choice.

After numerous sightings of a group of potential raiders earlier on in the month, Tommy had no choice but to assign every last competent, able bodied patrol person, including himself, to work double shifts to ensure the safety and security of Jackson. He and Joel had come across the remnants of a campsite just about fifteen miles south of the settlement and they worried the group was hiding out, planning a violent, ambush attack on the community when it was least expected. Tommy had done his absolute best to keep the word from spreading throughout the commune to avoid causing a panic, but he found himself having to fess up when people went up to him and all but furiously demanded to know the truth—the real reason behind why their loved ones were now being asked to be on the other side of wall twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Joel, who you’d come to learn is one of the sharpest and strongest shooters out of everybody in Jackson besides his younger brother, reluctantly took on the role of lead patrolman. He had been assigned an absurd amount of double shifts to work, including the overnight routes, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d understood he had no choice but to comply, but still—that didn’t make the situation any easier to deal with. Both of you tried to make the very best of what little time you managed to get together, but it hadn’t been nearly enough. As if not being able to see Joel wasn’t agonizing enough for you, the fact that he was out on the other side of the wall scared the hell out of you. The only way to keep yourself from losing your goddamn mind was to distract yourself.

You did everything that you could to keep your mind off Joel being out there. Burying yourself deeply into your work helped for the most part.

Besides that, Joel had asked you, as a favor to him, to keep a watchful eye on Ellie in light of his absence. You’d spend most of the day with her in the stables, you would have lunch with her in the mess hall along with Dina, and in the evening, you would go home and make dinner early enough to fix an extra plate of food for her so she had a nutritious homemade meal to enjoy instead of two decades old canned ravioli. You would take it over to her place and drop it off before Luke came home from the clinic. Ellie waited until it was late in the evening and he was asleep to return the plate back to you, and the two of you would take a lengthy, late night stroll through the town, keeping each other company for a while before heading off to bed. She hadn’t seemed to be all too concerned about Joel, but then again, Ellie had known better than you did that he could take care of himself out there just fine. If anything, you spending so much time with her had been more for your benefit than hers, and you started to suspect that just like Joel had asked you to keep an eye on Ellie, he had also asked her to keep an eye on you too. After all, you had made it abundantly clear to him that you were nervous about him being out on patrol while there was a possible threat looming in the shadows.

By the time the middle of August came around, no additional traces of the group had been found—they seemed to have vanished into thin air, causing a wave of relief to sweep through the town. Tommy and Maria finally decided to ease up and end the double shift assignments, allowing every single patrolman and woman to return to their normally scheduled work rotations. Joel went back to his usual early morning and afternoon patrol hours, which meant that the both of you could resume your clandestine meetings out behind the barn underneath the stars.

“I missed you,” you say, sighing out contentedly as you lean back against him.

You and Joel are sitting out on the large, vacant patch of field behind the barn, his soft, green flannel blanket acting as a barrier between your bodies and the itchiness of the grass the animals would graze on during the day. You’re nestled in between his long legs, your back against his warm chest as the two of you share the delicious, ripe peach he’d brought along with him as a surprise for you.

“Mm, probably not as much as I was missin’ you, sweet girl,” Joel replies with a hum before taking a bite of the fruit. Noticing there’s only a couple bites of it left, he reaches his arm around and holds it out for you, his bulging bicep straining against the sleeve of his faded black t-shirt. “Here, darlin’. Want you to go on and have the rest.”

“These will be out of season in a couple of months.” Giving a sad little pout to nobody in particular, you sigh again and sink your teeth into the peach. Through a small mouthful, you realize, “Who knows when we’ll ever get peaches around here again.”

Joel’s lips meet the spot on your neck right behind your ear and you feel him grin. “S’alright with me. I’ve got my sweet, perfect little peach right here. And I’ve got her all year round.”

You playfully elbow him in his chest. After polishing off the rest of the peach, you lick off the pit and toss it out into the distance.

“Didn’t think you’d be the type to litter,” he teases.

“It’s biodegradable,” you retort with a tiny laugh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder and gaze up, admiring the stars that sprinkle the velvet night skies. “Or at least, I think it is. Come to think of it, I never paid much attention in life science when I was in FEDRA school. It was my least favorite subject.”

You gather your hair in your hand, bringing it over your shoulder to keep it out of Joel’s face. 

“Mm,” he whispers, licking his lips as his eyes fall to the delicate flesh of your exposed neck. He ghosts his mouth over your pulse point and his warm breath fans against your cool skin, prompting your eyes to flutter closed. “Just temptin’ me on purpose now, ain’t you, baby?”

“I would never do such a thing,” you object in an innocent tone, and he immediately clocks the smirk behind it. A comfortable silence falls over the both of you and while you’d normally welcome the peaceful, tranquil moment with him, tonight it feels impossible. You had gone so long without Joel over the last couple of weeks—at least, it had certainly felt long—and you realize one of things you’d missed most about him was the sound of his voice. “Ask me a question, Joel.”

“What kinda question can I ask, darlin’?”

Feeling brave, you offer, “You can ask me anything you want. No limits.”

Humming curiously to himself, he tries to think of something he hasn’t asked you before. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Really, Joel?” You snort, trying to mask your laughter as he rests his chin on your shoulder, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin as he presses his cheek against yours. “I just told you that you can ask me anything you want and that’s your question? What’s my favorite color?”

“Yeah,” he answers, simply. “I wanna know what it is.”

He turns his head, lifting it off your shoulder to brush a gentle kiss to your temple. Joel could not, for the life of him, even remember the last time he’d shared this kind of physical tenderness with anybody. Forehead kisses, holding your hand, all sorts of little tokens of affection he didn’t think he could still be capable of giving to someone came to him so naturally with you. You had brought out an entirely different side of him, one that had been buried beneath his rough exterior for well over two decades, and the part that Joel still can’t quite wrap his own head around is that you’d done it with such ease. He’d go as far as to say that you had done it without even trying.

“So?” Joel prompts you. “What is it?”

“It’s brown,” you answer. 

“Brown? Why brown?”

“Because. It’s earthy, it’s warm—and your eyes are brown,” you state, grinning to yourself as you feel his loud laugh rumble through his chest and against your back. “What about you? I mean that’s if Joel Miller even has a favorite color,” you giggle teasingly, placing a hand on one of his denim clad legs. You then add, “Actually, I’m kind of curious now. Do you have a favorite color, Joel?”

Joel hesitates, momentarily holding onto his answer.

“I do. It’s purple,” he finally responds after a brief bout of silence. “Purple’s my favorite color.”

“Purple,” you repeat after him, unable to mask the surprise in your tone. “Really?”

Joel chuckles. “What? That weird or somethin’?”

“Uh, sort of. For one, you just don’t strike me as the kind of guy who would have a favorite color in the first place—and even if you’d told me you did, I would have never in a million years guessed that it was purple,” you admit, sheepishly. You trace a small circle around his knee with your finger and curiously ask him, “Why is purple your favorite color?”

“‘Cause. That’s my daughter’s favorite color.”

You scoff playfully. “Come on, Joel. Ellie’s favorite color sure as hell isn’t purple. Her favorite color is green. But red’s a close second.”

When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him despite being in such close proximity. 

“I ain’t talkin’ about Ellie.”

At first, it doesn’t quite register, but after a moment of processing, the pieces click together in your mind. Joel has another daughter.

Your smile vanishes and you slowly turn around between his legs to face him. Looking at him with wide, shocked eyes, you utter, “What?”

“Her name was Sarah,” he confesses, softly. 

Was. 

Your throat dries at his use of past tense.

Because you know exactly what that means. 

Opening your mouth to speak, words fail you and you close it. You suddenly remember the way he would tap dance around certain details of his first life in Texas. Whenever he would speak about his life before the outbreak, he would be cautious, careful to watch himself and his words. You’d known Joel had been keeping something from you, something he wasn’t ready to disclose to you for one reason or another—but never would you have guessed that him having a daughter would be the secret he had been hiding.

By now, you’ve turned your body around and you kneel in front of him, sitting back onto your heels. Not wanting to push him too hard or too fast, you clasp your hands together in your lap and wait silently—patiently—for him to continue when he’s ready.

“Sarah’s favorite color was purple. She’d wear it all the time. Her backpack, her school supplies, they all had to be purple or she wouldn’t use them. When she was nine years old, she begged me to paint the walls of her bedroom purple. One day, I took her to Home Depot after school to look at all the different shades.” He laughs, musing, “Didn’t know there could be so goddamn many of them. Anyhow, I told her I’d think ‘bout it. I went back to the store the next day while she was at school, bought a couple cans of the lavender shade I knew she’d like the best and by the time she got home, I had it all painted for her,” he explains, a sadness glazing over the fondness of the memory. “She loved purple. It was the color of the t-shirt she was wearin’ the last time we were together on the night of the outbreak.”

Your heart sinks. “Joel, you don’t have to tell me—”

“S’alright, peach. I wanna tell you ‘bout her,” Joel assures you, reaching out for your hand and taking it in his own. “I trust you, baby. Trust you more than enough to tell you ‘bout Sarah.”

Nodding, you lace his fingers together with your own. 

“I was never married,” he starts to say, knowing whether or not he’d also had a wife before the world ended would be a question on your mind—that’s if it wasn’t already. “I was never with Sarah’s mom. I met her in high school and we’d been friends up through senior year of college. We started to date then, but after a year, we realized we weren’t a good fit together. We broke up and a couple months later, we found out she was pregnant with Sarah. Her mom and me, well we both made an agreement to co-parent her as best as we could. Just a few months shy of our daughter’s first birthday, she realized she couldn’t handle raisin’ a child at our age. I tried real hard to convince her to stick around and keep tryin’ but I couldn’t get her to stay. She bailed out on me, but the worst part of it was that she bailed out on Sarah.”

He stops for a moment and you give his hand a gentle, but firm, encouraging squeeze.

“As if bein’ a father to a baby girl didn’t scare the shit of me, being a single father made it all feel so much scarier, y’know? I was young, in my early twenties. I was always workin’ so damn much, tryin’ to build my construction business with Tommy. Now I had this tiny little person to take care of, and I honestly didn’t know how the fuck I was gonna do it.” Joel pauses, his sixth sense detecting that your knees have started hurting from the position you’re in. He closes his legs together and pulls you to sit on his lap. “It wasn’t easy, and I probably made a lot more mistakes than I’d like to admit. But somehow, I made it work and it turned out alright. Sarah was my best friend in the whole entire world. Hell, I loved her more than fuckin’ life itself. She could be a handful, but she was perfect in every single way. She was my sweet little butterfly, my ray of sunshine on even the darkest of days.”

Swallowing harshly, you ask, “What happened to her, Joel?”

Joel sighs, resting a hand on your bare thigh. His fingers skim the scalloped hem of your floral shorts. “It was the first night of the outbreak. We were tryin’ to get out of Austin. Me, Sarah, and Tommy. We didn’t know where the hell we were gonna go or what we were gonna do, but we just needed to get far away from the city. We got separated at one point when our pickup truck got into an awful wreck. I had Sarah in my arms ‘cause she couldn’t walk. She’d broken her ankle in the crash. Tommy told me to get her to the river where she’d be safer, said he’d find his way over there to meet us.”

Your heart begins to pound. Part of you almost doesn’t want to hear how his story is going to end—because in a way, you already know how it’s going to end. But if Joel is telling you about Sarah, it’s for a reason. He’s opening up to you, the way you’ve opened up to him. He’s sharing his heartbreaking loss because he trusts you—and Joel Miller doesn’t trust anyone that’s not his family.

Draping an arm around his shoulders, your fingers toy with the curls at the nape of his neck as you anxiously wait for him to recount the event that follows next, the event that will surely shatter your heart into pieces.

“The streets were crawlin’ with infected. One caught us in its sights and chased after us. Tried to dodge it through a buildin’ but it followed us, runnin’ us out into a field just a mile from the river. I didn’t think we were gonna make it—then, a soldier came outta nowhere and shot it dead. It felt like some kinda fuckin’ miracle. I thought we were lucky. I thought we were gonna get some help.” His voice grows hoarse, thickening with emotions he’s not too sure he can hold back this time. “I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was given the order by his command to kill us both, even though we weren’t sick. I tried tellin’ him over and over we weren’t infected, but it didn’t matter. He shot at us. He grazed me in my side, but Sarah—he got her. Got her multiple times. I was foolish enough to think it hadn’t been fatal. I tried gettin’ her up, begged Tommy to help me—but it was useless. Sarah died in my arms. Took her very last breath in some field outside of Austin.”

“God,” you whisper shakily, a sharp, painful ache shooting through your chest at the thought of him cradling his daughter’s lifeless body in his arms, her purple shirt soaked in crimson. “Joel, I don’t—I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.” Willing yourself to keep it together for his sake, you hold the back of his neck in your hand, fingers coaxing him to look up and meet your gaze.

“After that, I just didn’t see any point in carryin’ on anymore. I’d lost the most important thing in the fuckin’ world to me. I couldn’t see in the darkness now that my little ray of sunshine was gone. So, a couple nights later, I picked up my gun and tried to end my own life,” he confesses. Even though it’s been over twenty years, traces of shame still linger behind. “Put the barrel of a pistol to my temple. Told myself it was what I wanted to do and I pulled the trigger.”

Without thinking, you reach towards the scar on his right temple with your opposite hand, the one you’d noticed for the first time before he had kissed you in Ranger’s stall. You lightly brush your fingertips over the jagged, raised patch of skin. You’d wanted to ask him about it on several different occasions, but never had the courage to actually do it. Now that you know he’d gotten it from his own hand, it just makes the entire thing all that much more heart wrenching.

“M’sure you’ve guessed it by now, but I missed. I flinched and I missed. For twenty fuckin’ years, all I could do was wish I hadn’t missed. Spent a long time hatin’ myself for missin’ what should’ve been the easiest goddamn shot of my entire life. Then, Ellie came along.” Joel moves his hand, gingerly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. “And not long after her, I met you, sweet girl. The two of you came at me outta nowhere.” He can’t help but chuckle, remembering his first encounter with Ellie, the way she had flown at him with her switchblade clutched in hand only to end up thrown against the wall. “You both came outta left fuckin’ field and brought out sides of me I thought had been dead and buried for years now. You and her, you mean more to me than I can fuckin’ explain. You’re the most important things in the world to me now.”

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at his declaration. It’s not like you didn’t know Joel cared about you. Of course you know that. But the extent to which he did had been something of a mystery, at least up until this very moment.

“I didn’t know I could feel this way ‘bout anyone again,” Joel admits. He slides his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “Openin’ up my heart to Ellie, that was one thing. But openin’ it up to you? That’s been somethin’ else, peach. I don’t think you even realize the hold you’ve got over me and my heart. What really fuckin’ gets me is that you don’t even gotta try. All you gotta do is look at me with those eyes and give me that pretty smile of yours, and I’m fuckin’ done for. You’ve got me wrapped all the way around your little finger and then back again, baby. Y’need to know that I’d do just ‘bout fuckin’ anythin’ for you. You understand that?”

You stare at him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Joel,” you stammer his name, your nerve endings feeling like they’ve been lit on fire. “You really need to stop talking like that.”

“Why’s that?”

You don’t even think—you just blurt the words out before you can stop them.

“Because I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The tables turn and it’s now Joel who is at a complete loss for words.

Embarrassed by your own admission, you begin to ramble nervously. “Look, I know it’s ridiculous. We haven’t known each other long, but I can’t help it. And maybe it’s for the best if you know where I stand and how I feel. You still have time to back out of this—”

Still holding your chin, Joel carefully brings your face toward his, silencing you by slotting his lips to yours. He moves to cup the side of your face in his palm, forgetting about any kind of softness as he greedily licks into your mouth. He’s kissed you plenty of times before and you thought you knew all of his kisses well enough by now, but you’d been wrong. This one is different from all the rest. His lips move against yours in a possessive manner, but not the kind of possessive you’re used with Luke. No, with Joel, it isn’t a possessive stemming from control and abuse, rather, it’s out of pure need, want, and desire. Even as his mouth devours yours, there’s still a sweet, loving tenderness to it.

“Joel,” you whimper against him. “I—”

You falter, unable to say those three words. There’s something holding you back—maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s knowing that once you say them, you can’t take them back. Not that you would. But it’s a big step, and you’re not quite ready to say it, even if it is how you feel.

And he feels the same.

He deepens the embrace.

I love you.

Joel might not be ready to say it either, but he hopes the way he’s holding you and swelling your lips with his puts your mind at ease and reassures you that you’re not the only one who’s falling.

You shift yourself in his lap, moving to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs as your mouths remain fused to one another. He reaches and grabs for every single part of you that he can, running his hands all over you from your shoulders down to your hips, dragging lower until they’re unabashedly cupping the delicious curves of your ass. You whimper in his mouth again and the moment your lips part, his tongue takes advantage, darting inside to start the heated, unhinged dance with your own.

You clutch at his shoulders, your fingers curling around tight around fistfuls of his t-shirt in an attempt, and a very desperate one at that, to keep yourself planted on the ground. You hold on trying to keep yourself tethered to planet earth, but with the way his searing hot mouth moves with yours in perfect unison, it’s impossible. You’re free falling without a safety net, and you don’t even care. 

Seating yourself completely on his lap, you feel the bulge of his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans and the wetness pools between your thighs.

Letting go of his shirt, you reach around him and bury your fingers in his curls, lightly tipping his head back as your tongue explores his mouth like it’s the first time all over again. Joel tastes like the sweet fruit you’d shared, a strange mix when combined with the mint from his toothpaste. But there’s something else he tastes like and you’ve tasted it several times before, however even after all this time, you still can’t figure out what it could be. It tastes like Joel. That’s the only way you can think of to describe it. It just tastes like Joel and it’s addicting and you want it on your lips for the rest of your life.

After a minute, you and Joel finally force yourselves apart, your lungs and his begging for oxygen. 

“Joel,” you choke his name between heavy pants for air.

“Baby.” He’s about as breathless as you are, possibly even more. “Baby, please. I’ve gotta have you,” he pleads, hands now splayed on the small of your back. “Please. I fuckin’ need you. Or else m’gonna lose my goddamn fuckin’ mind.”

“Barn,” you rasp out, releasing your grip on his hair. 

Confused, Joel’s eyebrows knit together. “Barn?”

“Barn,” you repeat as you climb off of him.

You’re unsteady—incredibly unsteady. Knees wobbling, legs trembling and feeling like they’re seconds away from giving out underneath you. But you hold a hand out to Joel, exhaling a tiny, labored grunt as you help him up off the ground. Grabbing his blanket, you give it a shake before taking his hand in yours and leading him around to the front of the barn. Dropping his hand, you use both of yours to slide one of the double doors open an inch or two and take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear. You then slide the door open a bit further, just wide enough for you and Joel to slip inside. 

“Wait a minute,” he chuckles as he watches you slide the door closed. “How’d y’know it would be unlocked?”

“I didn’t know it would be unlocked. I was just hoping we’d get lucky,” you admit, beckoning him for him to follow you. “Come on.”

Through various cracks and gaps and open windows, enough moonlight filters into the barn, shining a decent amount of light into the structure—enough so that it’s not pitch black and you two are left stumbling around in complete darkness.

Joel glances around. The last time he’d been inside the barn was back in June for the summer party. He remembered it having been cleaned and cleared out for the event and now, two months later, it’s packed to the rafters with countless bales of hay. In retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised. But as he walks, piles of loose dried grass and herbs crunch underneath his boots and he remarks, “There’s fuckin’ hay everywhere, darlin’.”

“Um, yeah. What else do you keep in a barn?” you jeer lightly, earning yourself a small scoff from him. “Hey, at least they don’t keep sheep and other livestock in here, Joel. Besides, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

Joel snorts, masking his laughter at the thought of walking into a barn full of animals instead of an absurd amount of hay. “Yeah, guess that’s fair enough,” he concedes. “Might kill the mood if that were the case.”

You lead him over towards one of the far corners of the barn, your eyes falling to a large, almost bed sized pile of loose hay. Draping the blanket over it, you stand upright and then freeze, your body flooding with nerves once you realize what’s inevitably about to happen between you and Joel.

You hadn’t done anything with him since the night he’d pleasured you out on his front porch. Of course you wanted more, so much more, but that doesn’t make you any less nervous. You’re so much younger, hardly have any experience—you’ve only ever been with one man, and even then, it hardly counts. It’s been such a long time since you’d found sex something you wanted, something you enjoyed. Whenever Luke touches you, it makes your skin crawl, but when Joel Miller touches you?

It sets you ablaze, leaves you needing more of it. Of him.

Part of you wonders if your touch makes him feel the same. What if it doesn’t?

His arms wrap around your waist from behind and you exhale the breath you’d been holding shakily.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Joel murmurs softly into your hair, sensing your pensiveness. 

“I’m just really nervous,” you blurt out.

“S’okay,” he says, quietly. “M’kinda nervous too.”

You’re slightly taken aback. “Really? What are you nervous about?”

Joel rests his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve both crossed a lot of lines already, peach. But this one? S’gonna be the one we can’t come back from,” he tells you. “Might be what seals the deal between us, y’know?”

Slowly, you turn around to face him. “Yeah, I know,” you respond, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. “And I know I should care, but I don’t. It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“S’wrong,” he agrees with a tight nod. “But I don’t care either, sweet girl.”

Before you can utter another word about it, Joel crashes his mouth onto yours. He snakes one of his arms around you and lifts the other, cupping the back of your neck as he ravages you with his lips and tongue, kissing you with such urgency, such desperation that it melts you into a whimpering mess in his arms. Your mind is hopelessly lost in a thick, cloudy haze—all you can focus on is breathing him into your lungs like he’s the air you need to stay alive. His hands fall down to the hem of your white camisole and his mouth abandons yours to pull it over your head. He discards it, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere behind him. He then pushes your shorts and underwear down your legs and you kick them off along with your shoes. You’re now standing before him completely naked.

Desperate to feel his skin against yours, you take the hem of his t-shirt and clumsily tug it over his head, eliciting a laugh from him. You throw it somewhere over his shoulder to join yours and your hands eagerly meet his warm, bare chest for the first time. Biting down on your bottom lip, your trembling fingertips brush over several bumps and rough, raised patches of skin that you know have to be his scars. He has so many, and all you want to do is kiss each and every single one of them, but Joel has other ideas. He pulls you into his arms, flush against his chest, and he holds you tightly.

More often than not, Joel feels as if you’re not real—worries that you’re just a perfect, flawless figment of his own imagination. He doesn’t know whether or not you’ve caught onto what he’s been doing, but he steals moments like these whenever he can, moments where he stands there and takes you into his arms and holds you without saying a word.

It’s his own way of reminding himself that not only are you real, but you’re real and you’re his. Joel doesn’t care about the fucking ring on your finger. He doesn’t care that you’re promised to another man. He doesn’t care that he can only hold you in secret, that he can’t walk next you down the streets of Jackson in broad daylight and hold your hand while doing so. He doesn’t get to share a roof or a bed with you and he doesn’t get to join you for dinner at the table every night—maybe this isn’t how he preferred things to be, but he just doesn’t care. 

It doesn’t matter to him.

Nothing matters to him except for one thing.

Your heart belongs to him. It bleeds with his name.

You’re his. You’re all fucking his, and only his, in all the ways that truly matter.

And he is yours. 

Joel chokes out a strained groan as you press your plush lips softly against his neck, your tongue swiping across his pulse point. You firmly suckle his flesh, hard enough to break the tiny blood vessels underneath his skin and once you’ve left your mark, you trail your lips down his neck, eliciting another strangled noise from him. You sweep them over his collarbone, then down the length of his chest, showing each scar you come across with the affection it deserves. Your teeth nip and scrape at the softness of his belly and you quickly discover that it’s one of your favorite parts of him. Lowering yourself to your knees, your nose skims over the trail of dark, coarse hair below his navel and your fingers suggestively skim the waistband of his jeans.

His eyes widen. “You ain’t gotta do that—”

“I already told you, Joel. I want to,” you assure him, your voice low, sexy, filled with a lust for him and only for him. You make yourself comfortable, a challenging feat since you’d overshot the blanket and are now kneeling directly on the itchy, dried grass. It doesn’t matter, though—you’re more than willing to deal with discomfort for him. You place a hand on his hip and peer up at him. Your eyes meet his in the milky white moonlight. “You made me feel good. Please, just let me do the same for you?”

The nod he gives you is so subtle, so quick, that you almost don’t catch it.

He’d grown tense beneath your touch. 

You can’t help but laugh softly—not at him, but at the fact that he doesn’t realize that pleasuring him isn’t a want for you, it’s a need.

Gently, you pat his hip. “Relax, honey,” you encourage him, surprised at how the pet name rolls off your tongue with such natural ease.

Your hands reach for the button of his jeans and you swiftly undo it, then tug at his zipper. You start pulling the denim down his legs. Joel helps you, kicking off his worn, black leather boots before stepping out of his jeans, kicking the article of clothing off to the side. Heart racing in anticipation, you slide his dark boxer briefs down his legs, but stop short, breath hitching the second you feast your eyes on his cock. You’ve felt him through his clothes before, knew he was well endowed, but you’re still shocked to see just how big he really is. The mere thought of his hard, thick length filling you up and stretching your cunt makes your entire body ache with need. You can’t be certain how he’ll fit, but truth be told, he could tear you in half and you would thank him for it. 

Joel draws in a quick, sharp breath when he feels your small hand wrap around his base. Just as fast as he’d breathed it in, it’s knocked back out of his lungs when your other hand joins in and you run your fingertips along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock. He twitches in your hands—you’ve hardly touched him, haven’t even put your mouth on him, and he’s already teetering on the edge.

“Christ, baby. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, I hope y’know that,” Joel croaks, tilting his head back to look up at the rafters as he silently wills himself not to explode too soon. His hips involuntarily jerk forward as you lick his tip, collecting his leaking precome on your tongue before wrapping your soft lips around it. Another loud, ragged groan tears from the back of his throat as you take him in slowly, inch by inch, further into your warm, wet mouth. Your own moaning around him causes a vibrating sensation, making it harder for Joel to keep himself from spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, peach,” he curses, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of your throat. He’s more than a mouthful for you, but you accept the challenge with eagerness and take him in further, gagging around him as drool dribbles down the sides of your chin. You, the same woman who just moments ago had said she was nervous about being intimate with him—whoever that woman had been, she was long fucking gone.

Joel’s eyes flit down and he sinks his teeth hard into his lower lip. He can see your silhouette as you work him with that pretty little mouth of yours. One glance is all he can handle before he’s squeezing his eyes shut, the pressure building in his lower abdomen and already dangerously close to reaching its peak. If Joel so much as looks at you again, he’ll come down your throat, and that’s not where he’s planning on finishing tonight.

You bob your head back and forth on his cock, your eyes watering each time he slips past the back of your throat—your cheeks hollow as you suck him greedily, and you alternate between that and stroking his long, thick shaft, your tongue swirling around his head.

Without opening his eyes, Joel reaches down with his hand and cradles the back of your head in his palm. The sounds that fill the barn are nothing short of obscene. His grunts and groans mixed together with the sounds of the moans you’d release in between your wet and sloppy slurping. He forces his eyes open and bravely takes another look at you, his heart slamming painfully against his sternum as you move your head faster, chasing his release as if you’re chasing your own.

“Fuck, baby—wait, stop. Need you to stop.” Joel’s hand leaves the back of your head and he cups your jaw, gently, but firmly, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth with an audible pop. “Ain’t gonna last much longer, not if you keep on like that.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” you ask, smirking up at him as you wipe the mixture of his precome and your saliva away from your chin with the back of your hand.

Joel leans over and takes your arms, effortlessly yanking you up to your feet. His hand dives between your thighs to get a feel—to find whether you’re ready to take him or not. He slips two fingers between your soaked folds without so much as a warning, causing you to gasp out and grip his biceps, your fingernails digging into the firm muscle. Joel withdraws his hand from your cunt, admiring the way his digits come back coated with your slick. He looks at you, his eyes locking with yours as he lifts his hand to his mouth and slowly licks his fingers clean.

That alone nearly makes you come undone, almost makes you melt into a pathetic, whimpering mess at his feet. 

“Joel,” you say his name pleadingly. “Please.”

Sliding his fingers out of his mouth, he steps forwards and curls them around your wrist. “What is it, my sweet little peach? Hm? What do you want?”

“You. I want you,” you answer. You’re quick to correct yourself. “No, I need you. I fucking need you—I need you more than anything I’ve ever needed in my life, Joel.”

Leaning down, Joel skims the tip of his nose against your cheek before bringing it down along your jawline. “Where, darlin’?” he whispers huskily, sending a shiver up your spine. “Where do you need me, baby?”

Your mouth falls open slightly unable to say it. You don’t know why you’re suddenly shy, flustered as if you just hadn’t been down on your knees gagging around his cock.

“Tell me, peach,” he coaxes you gently with another low whisper. “Tell me where you need me. Tell me where you need my cock, sweetheart. Need to hear you say it.”

“Inside me.” Blazing heat floods your face. “I need you inside of me—I need you to fuck me. Please, Joel.”

“So polite ‘bout it, too,” he remarks. “What a good girl.”

Though he says it in a teasing manner, his praise nearly makes you collapse.

“You like that,” he realizes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Yeah, baby? Y’like it when I call you a good girl?”

“Fuck, I—yes, I do,” you confess.

“C’mere.” Joel wraps an arm around your waist, hand splayed over your back as he lowers you down onto the blanket. He follows suit. You both let out breathy laughs at the way your naked bodies sink down into the pile of hay. Propping himself up with his arm, Joel looks down at you, his smile fading as a serious expression crosses his features. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, finger grazing the silkiness of your cheek. “Y’sure ‘bout this, peach? Ain’t too late to stop.”

Smiling softly, you lift a hand to the side of his face, your fingers stroking his graying beard. “I’ve never been so sure about anything, Joel,” you promise him. “If you could take a peek into my mind, you would see how bad I want this, how bad I need this—how bad I need you. I don’t want to stop.” And you don’t just mean the sex. You don’t any of this to stop—the secret, late night meetings, the stolen kisses, the illicit affair. “I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you, Joel.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

Joel reaches down between your bodies, gripping his base, pumping his throbbing cock in his fist before lining himself up at your sopping entrance. Adrenaline courses through your veins—every nerve ending in your body is going up in flames. You spread your legs wider for him, hoping he’ll understand the nonverbal cue. He does. He begins to ease himself into your cunt and you hook a leg around his waist, encouraging him to go deeper. The barn fills with the sound of his grunt and your loud cry at the initial stretch. He sinks his cock further into you until he bottoms out and you cry out again, feeling a delicious burning sensation as he cradles his hips between your thighs.

“M’gonna need you to relax a little sweetheart,” he whispers gently, ceasing his movements to give your body a chance to adjust to him. Joel takes advantage of having you pinned underneath him with your head thrown back and his lips latch onto your neck, hungrily. He fervently kisses his way down the column of your throat, nips his way to your collarbone—but unlike you, he’s careful to do so without leaving any kind of mark behind. He would give anything to have the freedom to leave traces of his loving all over you. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment and the way he’s buried inside you to the hilt that brings out the primal in him, but Joel wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around Jackson covered in his love bites. He wants everyone to know he’s the one who’d left them behind, needs them to understand that you’re his. But that isn’t possible. Joel lifts his head from the hollow of your neck and nibbles lightly at your chin. “You alright, baby?”

Forcing your eyes open, you lift your head and bring yourself to look at him. At first, you feel discomfort, but after a minute, your body finally relaxes around him and it subsides. It’s replaced with the burning desire to feel more of him. The pretty glow coming in from outside the barn illuminates his face and you smile. “I’m better than alright. I’m perfect,” you assure him. You place a hand delicately on his chest, feeling his heart thrum hard against your fingertips. “This is perfect.”

Joel kisses the tip of your nose. He slides out of you slowly, then right back into you in an experimental thrust that brings your body off the blanket, your back arching in sheer pleasure. It’s such a deliciously tight fit, and he almost can’t believe how fucking good it feels to be sheathed in your taut heat. He drops his head, taking your breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple as he bucks his hips once more. He’s being careful. Too careful.

“Joel—I need you to move,” you gasp. You drag a hand down his chest and over his soft stomach, letting your fingernails rake lightly over his flushed skin. It’s warm to the touch, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Joel, please. Fuck me.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to tell him twice.

Joel releases the pebbled flesh from his mouth with a loud, lewd pop. He pulls his cock out of your dribbling pussy, then slams back into you with such force that he places a hand on the crown of your head, keeping you in place underneath him on the blanket. You wrap your own leg around him, locking your ankles together, your heels digging into the firm curve of his ass. You lift your hips just as he rolls his own right into them. The new angle gives Joel the opportunity to fuck you even deeper and he hits the sensitive, spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hold onto him, moans you’ve never heard come out of your own mouth before ringing in your ears and in his. He starts picking up his pace.

“Baby.” He’s breathless and speaks between every snap of his hips. “Fuck, y’feel s’good—s’tight around me—”

“Don’t stop, Joel. God, please don’t fucking stop,” you plead him, your finger burying themselves in his hair. “Keep going, just like that—fuck, you feel so fucking good inside me—”

You bite down on your bottom lip, adoring how Joel squeezes his dark eyes shut each and every single time the head of his cock brushes that one particularly deep spot inside of you. Knowing that you and your body has this kind of an effect on him, it gives you a boost of confidence. You’ve spent the last couple of years allowing a pathetic excuse of a man—if one could even call him that—pick on you, say things about your body, and make you feel like your inability to conceive a child made you defective. Worthless, even. And here’s a real man, one who makes you feel beautiful with the way he talks to you, the way he kisses you, touches you, and fucks you. You’re not perfect by any means, but Joel Miller makes you feel what your own husband doesn’t.

He makes you feel like you’re enough. More than enough.

The barn fills with a combination of moaning, panting, and the sound of damp skin slapping against damp skin.

Glancing down at you, Joel shakes his head and warns, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, baby. M’so goddamn close.”

An unexpected wave of courage washes over you. Planting your hands firmly on his chest, you take him by complete surprise and slide out from underneath him. A small grunt escapes him as you push him onto his back. Amused, you can’t help but giggle at the shocked expression on his face as you guide him to lie down on the flannel blanket. Eager to see his reaction, you keep your eyes trained on his face as you straddle his lap. You grip the base of his cock in your hand and then slowly sink down onto him, your cunt greedily squeezing him as you slide down until you’re fully seated.

Joel’s jaw falls slack. It’s the most stunning sight he’s ever seen.

You, completely naked on top of him, your pouty lips plump and swollen from his kisses. Your smooth, supple skin glows in the moonlight shining through the open window behind you. All while every inch of Joel’s cock was buried deep inside of you, head nudging at your cervix. Eyes glimmering devilishly, the sexiest little smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Like what you see?”

He tries to speak, but he can’t.

You’ve rendered him speechless. 

Grabbing his hands in yours, you guide them to your hips. His blood roars in his ears and his fingers dig into the pillowy soft flesh, holding on as you begin to rock them back and forth. You throw your head back, your hair spilling over your shoulder. The friction of your clit against his pelvis heightens your pleasure. Joel had thought he would be the one to topple over the edge first, but he’d been wrong.

Eyes pinching shut, you start bouncing yourself on his cock, your desperation mounting. You feel the tension between your hips coiling back tightly, ready to snap forward.

“Fuck, Joel—I’m gonna—I’m so fucking close.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Fuckin’ come for me, baby,” Joel encourages you, his fingers digging even harder into your hips. One of his hands abandons your side and he reaches up and gently takes your slackened jaw in the palm of his hand. He coaxes you to look down at him. “Need you to be a good girl and look at me, peach,” he instructs you, slipping his thumb between your parted lips. “Need to see that pretty face of yours when you come all over my cock, sweetheart.”

“Oh fuck—fuckfuckfuck!”

Crying out, you unravel and fall apart all over him, the ecstasy blurring the edges of your vision. 

It doesn’t take Joel much longer to follow. He lets out a low, guttural growl, choking out a string of profanities as he slams you down onto his lap and holds you in place, spurts of warm come coating your velvet walls. Your pussy squeezes him, draining him of every last drop.

You collapse forward onto him in a sweaty, whimpering mess and he wraps his arms around you. With him still inside you, you both lay there and try to catch your breaths as the high slowly but surely begins to wear off.

After a few minutes, Joel pulls out of you and he shifts your bodies, moving you so you’re now laying beside him. Tucking you against his side, he slides his arm around your shoulders and pulls you even closer. His other hand finds one of yours and he takes it, bringing them both to rest on his chest.

“You alright?” he asks you, lacing his fingers together with yours.

“I’m great,” you answer him tiredly, prompting him to chuckle. “What about you?”

Joel strokes at your hair. “Never been better, sweet girl.”

You groan. “Joel, don’t do that,” you mumble into his shoulder. “You’re going to put me right to sleep.”

He laughs again. “We’ve still got a bit more time, y’know. If you’re tired, you can take a quick nap. I can wake you up in ‘bout an hour when it’s time to head home.”

“No, that’s okay,” you decline the offer, worried he would accidentally fall asleep too. “I really wish we could sleep together—I mean, actually sleep together. In an actual bed. Not having to worry about anything. Just like normal couples do.”

“Well, we ain’t exactly a normal couple, darlin’.”

“No, we’re definitely not,” you murmur. You don’t even realize how sad you’d sounded until you feel Joel give your shoulders a comforting squeeze. 

Neither of you say anything else about it as you spend the next hour laying there, tangled up in each other’s embrace, waiting until it was time to go your separate ways.

[theemissuniverse]

WHO IS YOUR MORTAL KOMBAT 1 BAE BASED ON YOUR PERSONALITY TYPE [MALE MK CHARACTERS]

INTP VERSION

LOGICIAN

A/N : Before y’all try to correct me - got this information from the personality database app so if you wanna tell me I’m wrong then blame the app. Also don’t take it THAT seriously. It’s just for fun. I will do a female version after this. Also please LIKE THIS TF UP. THIS TOOK ME WAY TOO LONG AND I DID CHARACTERS I HATE/DONT CARE ABOUT SO IT COULD BE FAIR PLEASE DONT DO THIS TO ME. Also, also do not say I picked favorites because unfortunately this is my personality and the characters that I wanted when I ran it through the system DID NOT match close to 100% so yeah

WARNINGS : none I think

First, what is an INTP individual?

INTP’s are logical and analytical "Logician" who prioritize knowledge and understanding. They are known for their interest in stripping away superficial details to get to the underlying principles of a system or idea. They may be seen as absent-minded professors who are highly intelligent and enjoy developing and organizing their subjective understandings into consistent systems. They are flexible and tolerant, but may become rigid when their beliefs are challenged.

Your compalability/relationship with all the MK 1 Characters

Baraka [ ENFJ - protagonist ]

Chemistry : 92%

Relationship Type : Playmate

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Educational

In a relationship, Baraka will give you anything you desire. He is always willing to do anything you ask for to please you. He wants you to be well taken care of. He wants to see you at your best even though most days he feels at his lowest. Baraka does fear that one day you might leave him for someone he feels as though is more worthy. So, he’ll always try to give you everything you have ever wanted. Your communication is always an understanding between the two of you. The two of you get each other.

Baraka is actually playful with you despite how serious he can be. He feels comfortable with you. Like he can be himself. He doesn’t have to hide who he is when he is with you. Everything just feels right. Sometimes the two of you don’t share the same goals but that’s okay. You two are different and Baraka understands that.

Bi-Han [ ENTJ - commander ]

Chemistry : 99%

Relationship Type : Soulmate

Shared Value : Intellectual

Communication Style : Rational

In a relationship, Bi-Han will try his best to be gentle with you despite his nature. You are his peace. The coldness to his ice. There is no better person to calm him down other than you. He is grumpy with everyone. It’s always him versus the world. That’s not the case with you. It’s always you and him. Together. Bi-Han feels like he can trust you and trust is an absolute big thing with him. If he cannot trust you then he mind as well treat you like everyone else. His communication is always calm considering how cold he can be. He is willing to talk through whatever problem the two of you face. Even though some days he doesn’t feel like it.

Bi-Han has a sense of obsessiveness over you. He feels like he needs you twenty four seven but he will never show it. He’s still a little hasty on showing affection but trust that he feels it. He wants to show you but sometimes it’s hard given how he is as a person. It has nothing to do with you, it’s him. Bi-Han will always try with you. Sometimes he can get a little pissy with you but you know how to handle him so it never gets blown out of proportion. The two of you are the best when you are together.

General Shao [ ESTP - entrepreneur ]

Chemistry : 83%

Relationship Type : Supervisor

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Inductive

In a relationship, Shao will lead, guide, and protect. He will make sure you are alright. Make sure that no obstacles stand in your way. He will always make sure you are making the right decisions. He wants what’s best for you. He will protect you with his life. Nobody will dare threaten his queen. Nobody. Shao feels that you are his very weakness. (And to him this man has no weaknesses.) Sometimes he hates it. He hates the way you make him feel.

Shao will make people bow to you. Will make people worship the ground you walk on. He will not stand for anyone to treat you horribly. Unfortunately, the communication in your relationship is undoubtedly horrid. Shao does not know how to speak to you or confess his feelings which leads into fights. At the end of the day, Shao will always make sure you are safe.

Geras [ ISTJ - logistician ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Eye opening

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Geras will show you nothing but kindness and compassion. You are not kind to yourself. He knows this. He will show you how to treat yourself. He will show you what you truly deserve. He will not back down even when it gets hard. He will stand by your side and help you experience the feeling.

It is not just yourself but to other people you have a hard time expressing your compassion to. Not to worry, Geras will help you. He will show you how to be kind, gentle, and caring to others. When you do, it makes you feel better about yourself. Geras will always be there for everything. Even if your communication can be a little off, he will still show you the way.

Johnny Cage [ ESTP - entrepreneur ]

Chemistry : 83%

Relationship Type : Supervisor

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Inductive

In a relationship, Johnny’s ultimate goal is to make you laugh. He doesn’t care what the situation is. If you’re upset or if you’re happy as can be. He will always try to make you feel better. He can’t stand when you’re sad. He can’t stand when something bothers you so he likes to take away everything that makes you feel bad about yourself with laughter.

Unfortunately, sometimes Johnny claims you are too serious for him and you claim he is too childish for you. Sometimes the communication isn’t really there but Johnny is willing to put aside all that because he loves you. Johnny loves showering you with gifts and telling you how “hot” you are. You’re perfect to him. His little movie star.

Havik [ ISFP - adventurer ]

Chemistry : 92%

Relationship Type : Consigliere

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Analytical

In a relationship, Havik’s more chaotic nature ceases when he is with you. It is always an interesting experience being with him but you don’t mind it. He gets to show you his way and you will show him yours. Two different worlds colliding may be overwhelming but Havik will be grateful for the experience.

Havik wants to show you what life is all about. He wants to show you adventure. He wants you to experience his world and his thinking. He wants you to understand him because he feels like nobody really does. As long as you let him, he will love you like he’s never loved anybody before.

Kenshi Takahashi [ INTJ - architect ]

Chemistry : 98%

Relationship Type : Twinflame

Shared Value : Intellectual

Communication Style : Speculative

In a relationship, Kenshi will always be there for you no matter what. Kenshi will be the one that will never go away. Even if you are at your lowest. Even when everything feels pointless. Even if you two fight. There is no driving Kenshi away. The two of you will figure it out. He’s determined on that. He will die on the hill every time. The two of you are so similar that you click every time you are around.

Every time he kisses you, it’s like fireworks. You are more to him than a girlfriend. You are his best friend. Someone that is deeply sewed into his soul. He will never run away from the feeling he has when he’s with you. Never will back down. He accepts who you are completely. With all your faults and all your hardships. You are a hard person to love but not to Kenshi. To Kenshi, you are the only one he can love.

Kuai Liang [ ISTJ - logistician ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Eye opening

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Kuai Liang always wants the best for you. He will do anything if it means it is for your best interest. Protecting you is something he does not take lightly. With everything in his being, Kuai Liang will protect you. He will make sure you are fine emotionally and physically.

It will always be you. Nobody else. Some people may find this rather annoying by Kuai Liang but he doesn’t care. Protecting you is all that matters to him. He can’t stand when he sees you upset. He’ll break down with you when he sees this. He’ll always try to comfort you as best as he can.

Kung Lao [ ENFP - campaigner ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Coach

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Impassionate

In a relationship, Kung Lao wants nothing more than to make you feel good about yourself. He knows it’s hard for you. You are not in tune with yourself but he will help with that. Kung Lao makes you feel beautiful every time he’s with you. He makes you feel special. He will make you feel like you are the only one that matters to him. Like you are the only one that is important.

The communication you two have is always filled with passion and great emotion. Kung Lao will never talk bad about you. Even if he is mad at you. He knows you. He knows you cannot handle the harsh words because he knows you believe all the negative things you think of yourself or other people have said about you. He will not stand for it.

Liu Kang [ ISFJ - defender ]

Chemistry : 81%

Relationship Type : Analyst

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Liu Kang will try to protect your peace. You are an over thinker and tend to always believe that everything will turn to worse. He’ll always try to take away any stress that is on your shoulders. One thing he does hate is your guy’s communication. Sometimes you are not comfortable with talking about your feelings and Liu Kang absolutely cannot stand it. He understands giving you your space but not speaking to him when you feel down or something is wrong drives him crazy. Liu Kang’s wit always charms you and makes you laugh because he’s not over the top with it.

Liu Kang is always patient with you. Especially with your strong emotions. You are emotionally reactive with everything but it is something he can handle. Sometimes when it become far too much, he’ll hold you in his arms and whisper how much he loves you. He’ll make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. He truly wants you to feel loved with every fiber in his being. Because you don’t like to talk about your feelings, he is always analyzing your body language and your speech to see if you are alright. If he deems you are not, expect a long talk of how much he loves you.

Raiden [ INFJ - advocate ]

Chemistry : 91%

Relationship Type : Advisor

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Speculative

In a relationship, Raiden will try and be the man you want him to be. He’ll be the man you always thought of in your head. He’ll make your dream man a reality. Raiden will always try to guide you to the right choices in life. He wants you to succeed. Your communication is always interesting. It is neither bad or good. Your goals are a little ways from each other but Raiden will always support you. No matter what.

When you feel like a mess, Raiden is there whispering in your ear how much he loves you. How important you are. He will make you feel like you are the most important person in the world. He wants you to see yourself how he sees you. He looks to you like you are his prize possession. Like you are his world. There’s no amount of anything that can change the way Raiden feels about you. Nothing in the world.

Rain [ INFP - mediator ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Supporter

Shared Value : Abstract

Communication Style : Analytical

In a relationship, Rain shows you nothing but respect and support. He is your number one support system. In everything, he will help you succeed. Respect is another thing he does not take lightly. You are his goddess, his queen. He will treat you like he needs to worship the ground you walk on.

He’ll always support your ideas and beliefs. Even though most of the time he does not agree with them. In the slightest. He knows that supporting you is more important than him trying to push his ideas and or beliefs onto you. Your needs matter and he understands this. Rain will also allow you to call him by his first name. You are one of the only people to have this privilege so know that Rain means well.

Reiko [ ISTJ - logistician ]

Chemistry : 82%

Relationship Type : Eye opening

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Reiko sees that there is more to life than himself when he is with you. He is a very selfish individual. Not when it comes to you though. He’s learning to put his significant other before him. He has to in order for the relationship to work. Otherwise the relationship is doomed as you can also be quite a selfish individual.

Reiko will try to give you gifts because he is not familiar with any other way of showing his affection. The two of you will have to teach each other how to love one another. It’s a rocky start but Reiko will get the hang of it. The relationship means so much more to him than you could ever realize.

Shang Tsung [ ENTP - debater ]

Chemistry : 81%

Relationship Type : Preceptor

Shared Value : Intellectual

Communication Style : Impassionate

In a relationship, Shang Tsung will put your needs above all. This is strange for the sorcerer as he is used to being selfish. It is not something he is familiar with but he can’t help himself. The more you’re around him the more he has this sense of urgency to try and give you the world.

Shang Tsung will always make sure you are well taken care of before going off doing his business. One thing about him is you will need to support his plans. Whatever they be, he needs someone by his side. Your goals usually align with each other and are smart. Your conversations are usually filled with great emotion and it’s something he can’t pull away from.

Syzoth [ ISFP - adventurer ]

Chemistry : 92%

Relationship Type : Consigliere

Shared Value : Pragmatic

Communication Style : Analytical

In a relationship, Syzoth wants you to feel like he is your home. He knows how it feels to be unwanted. He wants to shield you from that feeling. Nothing in the world matters more to him than you feeling safe. He cannot have you feeling down or feeling unsure. You need to be indefinitely secured.

He does not play any games. Syzoth will always try to advise you on what to do but will make it very clear that he is not trying to control the shape of your destiny. Whatever you desire, he is pleased with. He just doesn’t want you to regret anything or live in the past. Syzoth will make sure you feel safe in the beauty that is you.

Tomas [ ISFJ - defender ]

Chemistry : 81%

Relationship Type : Analyst

Shared Value : Systematic

Communication Style : Reductive

In a relationship, Tomas will always be there when you break. He will always be there when you cry. He will always be there when you can’t find it in yourself to stand on your two feet. He is the glue to your soul. Tomas believes you are capable of doing anything but he knows that’s just something that’s hard for you to believe.

He’ll try to comfort you. To hold you. To kiss you. Sometimes it may not be something that’s physical that you need. Maybe it’s something that’s mental and Tomas will try his best to help you in that department. Seeing you break makes him break and he cannot live with himself knowing that if he didn’t try to help you, you would get worse.

if you’re an INTP then your soulmate is ENTJ

That means your perfect match for a soulmate is

BI-HAN / SUB-ZERO

Your perfect match for a best friend is

KENSHI TAKAHASHI

Here are runner ups that you could end up with (romantically)

(in order of best all the way down)

SYZOTH, BARAKA, HAVIK, RAIDEN, JOHNNY CAGE

FUN THINGS ABOUT INTP TO HELP YOU CONNECT MORE

INTPs are typically non smokers.

INTPs typically use dark humor.

INTPs usually are atheists.

INTPs are usually emotionally reactive people.

INTPs typically don’t consider themselves smart.

INTPs typically wear glasses.

INTPs usually don’t fear death.

INTPs usually watch horror movies.

INTPs typically have low self-worth.

INTPs are usually short tempered.

[rosaemoux]

part two of my magic batman magical au, here's part one:

Ok so we last left off with Bruce grieving Jason Todd, swearing he'll never take in another apprentice and isolating himself from his clan, substantially weakening Gotham's defences against malicious mages while Barbara desperately tries to get a hold of the city. Dick is currently in between getting his life together in the sister city Bludhaven after helping his friends during multiple travels around the world when suddenly Haley's Circus comes into town.

That's where Tim Drake decides to do something. The only heir to a new money family, Tim's parents weren't mages, his dad had a basic understanding of time magic while his mom was relatively good with ilusory magic but they never pursuit it over the passion of their life, archeology. Tim, however, always loved magic, loved the way mages would make miracles out of the ordinary and loved the way it tested the impossible. Tim loved the Clan of The Bats. He always did, ever since he was a child and first saw the beauty of Haley's Circus, when he saw The Flying Graysons for the first time.

A Lonely Place of Dying goes about the same way, the same with Rite Of Passage, except when Bruce screamed that the water was poisonous, Jack managed to reverse time around him for a few seconds in a powerful fit of desperation to save Janet's life, not caring about actually reversing time for himself though. So, both of Tim's parents end up in coma, Tim, now accepted as Bruce's newest apprentices, moves into the manor and formally starts training.

Unfortunately, Tim doesn't have the early training of Dick, nor the raw talent of Jason, so he struggles finding an affinity. Bruce decides to send him on a three week trip to Paris to train with his old teachers, The Rahul Lama, hopefully to get a new perspective and find what he's comfortable with. He does spend two weeks trying his best but ultimately failing before he gets pulled into a full blown conspiracy.

Lady Shiva decides to train him while they're at it, and for some reason, something just clicks. Her methods and way of seeing magic just works really well with Tim. When their manhunt against Edmund Dorrance is done, Shiva finally gets a lead on something she's been searching for a while, and Tim tags along with her mission while she teaches the path of ilusory magic, of perceiving into someone's mind and changing it to your will. It just turns out that the something was actually someone...

Flash forward, we have exact the point in which the story starts, with Tim arriving into Gotham Harbor, two months late with a girl, apparently Lady Shiva's daughter who currently doesn't have a name. Bruce almost has a heart attack, both extremely relieved that Tim is safe but also it's been two months who is this-

Cassandra – as Barbara would go on to name her – was a mage prodigy, being trained since the moment she was born to be a perfect weapon by her father. She had a very good understanding of all attributes of magic, with amazing spatial awareness and downright telepathic intuitive perception, at the cost of no understanding of language. Shiva mentioned something about a League of Shadows, but Tim isn't really sure what it is exactly, just that they wanted Cass to join them, but after killing someone for the first time and accidentally stealing their soul, she started to run away from them, mostly living in the streets before a friend of Shiva's found her in Hong Kong. Her and Tim are mostly attached at the hip to each other, inseparable.

Bruce and Barbara decided it would be safer and less stressful for Cass if she lived in the Clocktower instead of having to live in the manor. Time mostly passes without many events after that, with most of their focus being to make sure Cass adjusts well to Gotham and find ways to communicate with her. That is, until Tim stalked one of Bruce's missions despite being benched and met – promptly being hit in the face by a brick – Stephanie Brown.

She was a self taught prodigy of time magic, daughter of a lesser death mage, she was hellbent on spoiling all of her father's plans. Bruce didn't really like her motivation to practice magic, and did his best to try to get her to give up.

Tim and Steph quickly became close to each other, and as weeks passed it became clear that she wasn't going to leave the streets of Gotham no matter what. Bruce was peer pressured by everyone in his life to also accept Steph as an apprentice and actually train her before she got really hurt.

And so, The House of The Bat got three new mage students from very different backgrounds. (I like to think the vibes of the story sometimes are very much like Witch's Hat Atelier) Considering that Barbara has a litteral wizard's tower, she's usually the one who's trying to make sure each one of them goes though their mage's journey safely. She's helping them get a understanding of magic and of their affinity, her classes are very challenging, but not impossible.

Tim leans into Ilusory magic – I think him and Bruce should get pretty similar magic, but while Bruce leans into deceiving, Tim likes to perceive and understand other's mind – Steph gets better and better in Time magic, and to complement the two, Cass starts to study Physical magic.

Just thinking of three mage apprentices running away from rogues, getting into trouble and taking down magical mobsters during the night and having to study grueling hours of torture with Barbara. Thinking of Dick abducting them to a impromptu practical class (Babs is going to murder him). Thinking of Bruce having to deal with three children and messing up so much.

Thinking of Stephanie's death and how hard it would affect Tim and Cass. Thinking of Tim finding a mysterious book in his birthday presents, one that's written in some parts in a cypher that uses a combination of mandarin and arabic he spends months trying to solve. It is a necromancy guide, gifted out of indulging the question of what the little bats would do with it. After all, you only need a basic ritual and a death mage with a soul under their name.

A soul for a soul, an equal exchange.

[missmarveledsblog]

Grumpy cat ( Logan howlett x wade wilson x reader)

summary : adjusting to a new life and trying to recover from the old one logan is withdrawn but the help of google and a special something wade is determined to make it all better .

warnings : swearing , goofy humour really , not proofread ( soz)

@silverflowers14 thank you for the request it had me fucking dying🤣🤣

Starting over was hard  even more so when its’ a completely different timezone , universe and life. Faces lost in his own could he call it world? suddenly  back alive and walking around it was almost mocking him of his own fuck ups , that pain he felt when he saw what remained and now it was like nothing because to them it never happened . then isolation , hatred and venom that followed not so much in this place, mutant and enhanced weren't as disgusting as they were in his timeline . people cheering on the name of a hero he just wasn’t , no matter what he did he was dammed a bad evil man in his mind. It wasn’t always bad  he did have friend now , if he could call them as such . that was new and he kinda liked them even wade wasn’t too bad not that he would admit such a thing out loud  ( “ i knew he liked me “) . 

Yet it was the first time he was spending that dreaded day in this new place, that sick feeling creeping up in his stomach as he watched day by day and that date getting faster and faster  .  the little interactions he was having becoming less and less , shoulders slumping second by second . a deep frown on etched on his face . grunt and huff in response to anyone dared even come close , shutting  down any form of communication before it start . he didn’t deserve their kindness or there love . 

Wade saw it , he observed and took note of the grumpy black cat he had in his home , well that wouldn’t do no sad bitch vibes here . so like the best friend and roommate ( *cough* lover *cough * he was  decided to make thing better but how? 

“ oh google you beautiful bitch and sexy problem solver “ he skipped knowing he would find the stuff to make it happen before the hot-tempered sex symbol that was his new room mate came back from a liquor induced pick me up  . a text to his neighbor y/n left unanswered so he took measure into his own hand got his hands on the good stuff and the ingredients to make betty crocker herself cream her pantaloons . it was masterpiece of sprinkles and icing   ready to be devoured cheer up the grumpiest of cats . he heard the door open and slam almost taking it off the hinges . 

“ woah peanut less of the slamming unless it’s in the bedroom “ he sang skipping to the door . 

“ wade why the fuck are you dressed like a house wife from the fifties ?” 

“ i wanted you to feel more at home and american civil war section was surprising all out ,” he winked twirling to show the skirt of his dress. “ anyways you look more pissed then blind al pmsing and out of cocaine ,we don’t do that sunshine so while you out drinking your old ass off i was here slaving away making something so tasty martha stewart would fall to her knee for ,take a seat kitten and prepare to have you sock fully fucking blown off “ . 

“ i don’t ..” 

“ nope nope none of that you will sit and taste my goodness and you will like it “ he pushed the man toward the table as logan stared down at the “ masterpiece” wondering if it wasn’t too late to head back to his own time  because shit was probably better then whatever the fuck was on the plate before him  . he would give it one thing it smelled ok something he couldn’t place on his finger on but the rest was good . a deep sigh on his face as he sat down watching wade struggling to cut through it . 

“ it’s bit hard is all but all good things are hard right” he strained cutting through finally getting through before smashing the plate underneath. 

“ here come the aeroplane “ he sang. 

“ come near me with that and i’ll cut your fucking hand off” logan growled . 

“ try a little bit “ he whine like perpetuate toddler  ( * gasp* hey you take that back ). 

“ fine lucky i can't fucking die maybe i can “ he grumble throwing a piece into his mouth as the merc with a mouth watched excitedly . 

“ is it good? What note are you getting” he asked jumping around . 

“ this taste how you look” was all logan said before storming off. 

“ might take a while to kick in “ he shrugged .

Trying to wallow when wade wilson was around was impossible task , one thing was he kept getting logan his drinks and food ,take out all smelling of something he just couldn’t place maybe it was some new craze but fuck it once it got him drunk and food in his belly ,   he didn’t care once he was drunk and fed , what he did care about was wade following him around asking him how he felt , it wasn’t totally out of the norm giving the fucker told them all how he felt no matter what he was feeling  but this was more persistent even for him .  He was almost delighted when a knock at the door hopefully someone he could push the  assholes attention to something new . prayers finally answered when he saw y/n standing  there like the savoir he need . 

“ hey logan wade here?” smiling up at the man . 

“ over there go have fun  i’m begging you “ he pushed her over as she could barely get words of protest out of her mouth . 

“ i can’t stay i promised a girls night sorry i didn’t text back touch on my phone is gone but i got the good stuff right here my friend michelle swears by it” she handed over the baggy .

 “ hope it’s better than shit i got , sprinkled it on everything even in his food and still a grumpy bitch” he exclaimed . 

“ so where is he?” she asked excitedly looking around the room . 

“ right there shit are you going blind too,  i knew it was contagious suck it al “ he yelled pointing the the scowling canadian . 

“ please tell me you haven’t been putting this in logans food “ she winced backing up to the front door. 

“ putting what in logans food “ 

“ google said it good for grumpy , depressed or anxiety riddled kitty cats ” wade shrugged. 

“ what is it ? have you been dosing me with drugs?” the man growled claws retracting .

“ see nothing … no sugar plum i would never drug you … wait is catnip a drug ?” he asked as she ran out not wanting to stay when the claws came out too many clothes she still couldn’t get the bloodstains out of  . 

“ STOP THROWING FUCKING CATNIP AT ME AND COME BACK HERE YOU BASTARD “ 

“ I DO IT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU POOKIEBEAR… AHH PINEAPPLE …. FUCK WHAT WAS THE SAFE WORD ” 

“ why is this normal to me “ y/n sighed heading down to her apartment smashing glass and wade shrieks following now muffled as she closed the door.

[dorkus-mcdingus]

A random list of TWST HCs in no particular order

(Keep in mind they can range from general, fluffy, or angsty)

- Sam is bilingual but he speaks the Port O' Bliss (Louisiana) Dialect of French. He also would call Crowley a coullion/couyon (don't know the proper spelling. Sorry!) under his breath whenever that old crow is just yapping instead of paying for his order.

- Malleus had his mind blown when he first heard about milkshakes. I mean you can drink ice cream?! THROUGH A STRAW?! 🤯

- The only time you will ever hear Crewel call himself "daddy" is whenever he gets caught baby talking towards his dogs. Not that he has any shame in doing it.

- Jamil would slip into his mother tongue whenever he gets SUPER pissed off (it's not often when he does but 0/10 would not recommend you do it)

- I pretty much HC a good majority of the twst cast to be bilingual or know a few languages depending on where they come from. Although if they're from the Queendom of Roses, I mainly see them being monolingual but have the ability to read other languages.

- Rollo has vivid nightmares about his brother's death and how he ultimately blames himself for what happened. It's so bad to where the poor boy would rather not fall asleep so he won't see the visions again. The best sort of night is where he doesn't dream. There's nothing but the black void when he closes his eyes.

- I feel like Lilia would be sad hearing the song "Army Dreamers" because it would remind him so much of the war and the many soldiers that died serving Briarland. They were someone's child after all.

- Speaking of Lilia, he can turn on the old soldier voice and it's the one way he knows how to scare the shit out of some of the former soldiers that served with him. However, he would say

"I've spent so long playing soldier that I'm kind of tired of it."

If you ask him why he stopped using that voice. God... Malleus, Silver, and Sebek did a number on that old man.

- If I were to make a guess on Gidel's age, I think he would be around 9 or 10 years old. So it's safe to say that Fellow probably found him when he was either in his late teens or early twenties. Though, I'm more leaning on early twenties for this.

- I got PLENTY of hcs surrounding those two but much like most of the cast, Fellow himself is bilingual and learned the common language through his travels (mother tongue is Italian of course). Despite his limited education, he does try to help Gidel learn how to read and write as best as he can. Gidel is also his biggest priority. I don't think he really minds what happens to him as long as Gidel is happy, has food in his stomach, and his clothes are well mended but Gidel in turn knows how much Fellow has been suffering for their sake.

- Gidel also understands Italian but also the common language as well. Due to his limitations with reading and writing, one of the ways he is able to overcome the barrier when it comes to communication is miming or nodding and shaking his head. Sometimes what he's trying to say does get lost in translation but he and Fellow have such a tight knit bond that his big brother can understand him perfectly and can translate what he's saying if someone is having difficulty understanding him. He is a very streetwise kid underneath that adorable smile but is also a rather sensitive individual and can feel when someone is in pain or unhappy especially if it's Fellow

- A favorite story of our favorite scheming duo is "The Emperor's New Clothes"

- Yuu/MC has a tradition of welcoming the Halloween guest characters as honorary members of Ramshackle Dorm by making them perform a hazing ritual of having them take care of Grim when it's his bath time. Grim's a little bastard about it too especially towards Fellow and Rollo (I'm unsure about Skully but I'll update once the event is complete).

- Azul is the worst person to play Monopoly against

- I feel like the Tweels would sing a jazzy version of "People = Shit" with Azul playing the piano but the more he heard the two chaos gremlins sing, the more he wanted to crawl into an octopus pot

- Pre-overblot Riddle would definitely have a stroke reading The Cat in the Hat especially since the moral is that sometimes a little rule breaking is fine as long as it doesn't go too far

- If you think Azul is the most annoying person to play Monopoly against, Ace would know all the ways to piss you off in Uno. I think the first years playing Uno would be both one hilarious sight to witness but also the worst because of how much those boys are going to be fighting with each other.

- Despite Grim saying he's not a cat, his cuddles and purrs can soothe one's soul despite how much he's a little bastard most of the time. It's little moments like these where the MC thinks it's worth it putting up with his attitude and his black hole of a stomach

- Dylla was definitely a delinquent in her youth and the apple didn't fall far from the tree when it came to her son. Although her son may struggle in terms of academics, the fact that Deuce is trying to clean up his act and reform is something that always makes her swell with pride.

- If Maleanor were still alive, she would've been the CUTEST grandma! Although I do think that the fact that her son is close friends with a human does make her feel uneasy because she doesn't want him to get hurt like how humans have hurt her. Although I do also think that Lilia would often visit her grave and tell her of the many milestones that happened to him and her son.

- Despite the fact that Trein's daughters are all grown up, they still keep in contact with their father to make sure he's doing okay and their conversations can get LONG but I don't think the professor minds at all. Any time he spends with his children whether he's home or on a call, he treasures it.

- I feel like knowing that Crowley likes wild game and Vargas himself is a hunter, I wouldn't be surprised if he took the headmage on a hunting trip. I also think that Vargas would give the fur to Crewel if he needs some material. The man may be a muscle head but he's not wasteful when it comes to hunting for game meat.

[artiststarme]

Ex-fucking-cuse you

Thank you to @carlyv for the title idea! I don’t know if I really like whatever this is but other people seem to so I’ll leave it be. Let me know what you guys are thinking in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Whenever he had shared his feelings in the past, he’d had them stomped on. From crushes to life goals, anyone he’d ever confided in had laughed in his face. The first memorable time had been when he told Tommy about his crush on Heath Sellers at recess in fourth grade. Tommy H. told him that he wouldn’t be friends with a fag and if he ever mentioned liking a dude again, he’d kick his ass. That circumstance really showed Steve that he couldn’t trust anyone. If he couldn’t share what he was thinking with his best friend, who else could he tell?

The second time was with Nancy Wheeler. Steve told her he loved her even though he knew it was too early into their relationship and he knew she was still grieving Barb. But he still told her and all she did for the first few times was call him an idiot afterwards. Steve loved too much and too hard. Sure, after a few weeks she said it back but Steve could tell it wasn’t genuine and was most likely said out of pity.

The fact that she called him bullshit just two weeks later kind of cemented that fact in his mind.

It made him feel sort of hypocritical. He told the kids to be open and honest, prided them on their communication. And then he neglected to do the same. He hid his nightmares and semi-suicidal thoughts behind an impenetrable wall that no one in the Party could breach.

Until Eddie.

For months, Steve hated Eddie because it felt like he was stealing the kids away from him. He was jealous that they shared a common interest that he couldn’t understand and was gearing up for the kids to leave him behind. But then, Eddie told him that the kids worshiped him and he’d been jealous too. Jealous of the cool babysitter that influenced their actions in DnD and could do no wrong.

Steve felt like Eddie could truly see him, could understand Steve, and liked what he saw. He could tell that Eddie was going to be a great friend of his, or more. He liked more.

But when he ran back to the trailer park after flambéing Vecna, he saw a blood soaked Eddie being cradled by Dustin. His slow paced jog turned into a full blown sprint. Steve yanked Eddie out of Dustin’s arms and made a mad dash towards the portal in his trailer. He wasn’t going to lose the one guy that made him feel more understood than anyone else had ever made him feel.

The girls and Dustin tearfully followed them but Steve couldn’t spare them any attention. He was solely focused on the sluggish bleeding of Eddie’s wounds.

“Ow, Harrington. Calm the fuck down.”

“Eddie?!” The metalhead’s eyes were blurry but somewhat focused on Steve’s face. “Hey man, you have to stay awake. When we get out of here, you can teach me all about your shitty yelling music and nerd game, okay?”

The blurriness lifted slightly as pure offense filled his face, “ex-fucking-cuse you. That “shitty yelling” is true music unlike your Tears for Fears garbage or whatever the hell else you listen to. I have taste. And yeah, Harrington. I will be teaching you Dungeons & Dragons when we get out of here. Lugging my body out of here when I was trying to make a noble sacrifice is disgraceful.”

“You’re not allowed to die, Eddie.” Steve said, panting with exertion and stress.

“That’s not up to you,” and then he passed out.

“Fuck!” Steve screamed. That fucking dramatic shit, if those were his last words, Steve would bring him back just to kill him again.

Steve’s feelings were threatening to overcome him as his hands shook while he put Eddie into the car. Nancy held one of them and gave him a look of meaning. “I’ll drive.”

“Um, yeah, yeah. Okay, thanks. Henderson! Keep pressure on his wounds. We need to stop the bleeding.” He desperately put pressure on the worst of the wounds on his torso and prayed to a god he no longer believed in.

And then they sped towards the hospital.

Steve was there when Eddie woke up, just as he had been in the four days he’d been unconscious while recovering from shock. He was trying to read the dancing letters in The Hobbit but when he looked up and met Eddie’s eyes, the book dropped from his hands.

“Didn’t take you for a fantasy nerd, Harrington.” Eddie mumbled, his voice hoarse but unwavering.

“We need to talk about your theatrics, man. You almost gave me a heart attack, Eddie.”

“Oh, we’re on a first-name basis now? If I’d known all I had to do was risk my life to be in King Steve’s court, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” Eddie smirked at him.

“I’m not a king anymore.” Steve said and shook his head. It’d been a long time since anyone had called him that and he didn’t like the way it sounded on Eddie’s lips either.

“My apologies, Steve. You’re not a king, you’re a paladin. And that’s better than any noble.” Eddie said wisely.

Steve had no idea what the fuck any of that meant or what a pal-man was but he could listen to Eddie rant at him for hours as long as he kept looking at him like that. His face was fond and his lips, though scarred with a vicious bite marring their softness, smiled softly at Steve.

He coughed a bit to clear his throat and tore his eyes from Eddie’s lips to his amused eyes. “Um, do you said you were going to explain your screamy metal shit?”

That got Steve his desired reaction and Eddie squawked. “You motherfucker-”

As Steve listened to his enraged ranting, he made himself a promise. He was going to be more like Eddie. He was going to be more free with his feelings and he would find a way to talk to his friends about them. But for now, he’d listen to Eddie’s virtriolic soliloquy about the merits of metal artists and the importance on nonconformist music in “this sweaty armpit of a state”. And Steve couldn’t be happier.

@doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @carlyv

[n0n-sen-se]

I just found you today and Im in love with your writing! If you don't mind could I request some relationship Headcannons with Kyojuro and Sanemi! (separate)

If you write this thank you in advance! <3

-🍷

tysm ♡ i sincerely appreciate it :') and on another note: for these headcannons i decided to add a little bit of everything i could think of! Hope you enjoy them!

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

includes ;; kyojuro. sanemi. content ;; fluff. like a dash of angst. domestic fluff. a/n ;; this turned out. like i mean there's a ton of hcs but (in my defense) i did try to include a bit of everything!

☆☆☆ # kyojuro rengoku !

kyojuro is one of the most open people you'd ever meet (especially with his s/o) why hide anything? he pretty much wears his heart on his sleeve!

compliments you a ton! and doesn't just dump them on you, they're always genuine things he notices: how amazing your hair looks in the sun, your smile, the way you light up when you talk about something you like. . . all the good things

pretty decent cook, the food will taste amazing just. . . the kitchen is now a hazard zone.

(if your soft spoken ♡) his hearing is a little shot. he'd be so embarrassed of himself for asking you to repeat yourself over and over again (like it has his heart-racing and ears burning) ❛god your precious❜

oh my goodness, kyojuro would write you so many letters when he's away (or even before your relationship) he'd add little dried flowers for you. the best was probably the primrose!

hugging you is a comfort, so sometimes he'll just quietly walk up to you and hold you.

always smiles and brightens up when your around

rengoku nuzzling his nose into your face when he's happy, like literally trying to bury his face into yours

is wholly protective of you, and 100% speaks his mind if he feels someone is mistreating you/doesn't let anyone lay their hands on you (threatening to break their wrists move) also note that he doesn't like to resort to violence.

always opens doors for you, or holds your hand when you stepping down stairs.

it would take a whole lot to witness him cry. and he'll never cry for himself. not when he's hurt. not when somethings weighing on his mind. nothing. except when it comes to you and your happiness.

when fights or arguments happen he needs a moment (a long moment) to think and reflect. . . he puts himself in your position until he finds out what he needs to do.

he comforts you to no end though if your upset, lots of hugs and communication

☆☆☆ # sanemi shinazugawa !

i feel like he doesn't just casually kiss you (?) when you're around him he just holds you, firmly. sanemi always has a hand resting on you: shoulder, lower-back, linking his pinky with yours. at some point he (and probably you) wouldn't even notice the habit it anymore.

when he does kiss you its a whole ordeal, lifts your chin up, slow, passionate to full blown make-out session. usually never just a ❛quick kiss❜

the love aggression he'd feel sometimes-! just watching you. . . exist is so overwhelmingly adorable (he'd never say that exactly) just clenches his fists together and strings together a bunch of frustrated, mumbled swears

honestly, he's very competitive if you two were to play a game together. (a sore winner and loser)

when you're sick his way of comforting you is just quality time, he'll get your favorite snacks and make you as warm as possible, even laying down with you to keep you company. ask him for anything and he'll get it for you or make it better (maybe just this once)

(first) date ideas? none. he'll bring you somewhere that means a lot to him, even somewhere quiet where you can just. . . talk. if sanemi opens up a bit he'd be up for some fun (which usually involves danger or mischief) call it. . . part two of the date!

sometimes you'd just catch him smiling at you, a subtle peaceful stare with the ghost of a smile on his lips. (god, how did he get so lucky?)

fights would be the toughest. not usually because of the initial argument, but because of his inability to talk to you afterwards. disagreements get him frustrated for all the wrong reasons (usually at himself), and instead of dealing with them, he'd rather ignore them.

best thing he considers: is waking up with you next to him, just resting your head on his arm.

ooohh, actually after a while he wouldn't be able to sleep without you. ❛slept like shit❜

all relationships require work, and its definitely worth it! you're already his entire world, he just needs to learn how to show it more

and by god, this man would fight for you. need I explain? he worships you.

[intern-seraph]

give me your fire (Day 2/3)

Standing lordly over you, Malleus stares down with pupils blown wide. He pants with an open mouth, fisting both cocks with one trembling hand. “You’ll take both now, won’t you?”

come get ur food malleusfuckers

(Originally posted on Ao3)

DAY 1

DAY 3

cws: just way too much cum, eating breakfast together like dweebs, claws, biting, partial transformation, double vaginal penetration, pain, underprepping, minor possessiveness, size kink, more marathon sex, consensual somnophilia, fem!reader

You wake up slowly, nestling closer to the other person in your bed. He sighs and tightens his embrace. You’d love to spend the next hour in his arms, really, but —

“Malleus,” you whisper, “can you let me go for a sec? I gotta pee.”

His eyes flutter open. The bright green is far less hazy than it was last night. He smiles wearily. “Mm, good morning. How do you feel?”

“A little sore, but okay. Can you please let me go now? I’ll be back ASAP.”

He growls, arms squeezing you tighter. Then he nods and, visibly reluctant, releases you. “Be quick about it.”

“Of course.” Drawing out of his grasp, you leave him with a tender kiss on the forehead. It placates him enough to let you go without any vocal protests, but he pouts all the while. There’s one thing you didn’t consider, however, that makes itself quite known as soon as you stand up. Your eyes go wide as saucers and you yelp as your center of gravity shifts and cum immediately starts slipping down your thighs. You snap your legs together. “Oh shit!”

From the bed, Malleus snickers. You shoot him your most venomous glare, but he only grins as he lounges under the sheets. “Is something the matter?”

“You!”

“Hm? Did I do anything?”

“You and-and your —!”

“Go take care of your business, love,” he says, shushing you. “I want you back in my arms as soon as possible.”

You roll your eyes and shuffle over to the ensuite. Thank god he has one, you don't know what you'd do if you had to go to one of the dorm's communal restrooms. Public humiliation isn't high on your to-do list.

After you finish your business, you wipe yourself down with a washcloth and splash cool water on your face. Feeling far less sticky and far more awake, you peek out into the bedroom. Sitting on top of the bed is a massive tray laden with pastries and fresh fruit. Malleus glances up to meet your eyes. He smiles and beckons for you to join him in bed.

"Breakfast in bed? Pretty decadent," you comment as you slip under the covers.

"It was delivered while you were in the restroom. Eat up, you'll need your energy for the rest of the day." He pauses and stops spreading jam over his toast. "Unless, of course, you wish to stop? Your aid so far is likely more than enough for me to be able to think clearly today. We could always just cuddle. Your body against mine… it helps." As he speaks, his arm winds around you, pulling you snug against his side. You snuggle closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He takes one of the pastries and offers it to you. It’s still warm, crumbling wonderfully in your mouth and leaving you feeling just as light and airy as its crust. Breakfast is spent speaking softly to each other and leaving lingering touches on thighs and arms and waists. He’s wonderfully cool to the touch even after spending so much time skin-to-skin with you. The best side of the pillow, but living and breathing and visibly trying not to kiss you senseless. Part of you wouldn’t mind just staying like this for the rest of the day. The other part, the louder one, only reminds you over and over of the one peak you’ve yet to summit with Malleus.

“I’d like to keep going,” you say, lacing your fingers with his. He’s only just slid back under the covers with you after setting the empty tray aside. His electric green eyes light up, and his other hand comes up to cup your cheek.

“You’ve no idea how happy that makes me.”

“I can guess.”

You throw one leg across his, straddling his slender hips with little effort. Malleus beams up at you. Hands settling on your hips, he licks his lips. “You look delectable. If only I could partake of your sweetness for the rest of my life.”

“That wouldn’t be a very long life.”

“Then I would die a happy man.”

“Cheesy,” you whisper. Your hips roll and you delight in the way his lashes flutter. He’s hard against your thigh, so you take one cock in hand and lower yourself onto him, humming with pleasure. Both of his hands settle on your hips. They squeeze lightly, haltingly, and the tips of his claws brush your skin. You palm over them, squeeze, and he takes the hint, finally digging his claws into your haunches. You lean in, lips brushing the point of his ear. “Go on. I like it.” Punctuating your words with a gentle bite, you arch your back and steady your hands on either side of his thighs.

The coolness of his mouth engulfs your nipple and he teases the fragile skin with his fangs. He grips you solidly and begins a frenzied pace — his coolheadedness had belied the desperation his heat has been building in him all morning — so frantic that it’s all you can do to keep your balance. His hips stutter for only a moment as he spills his load inside you and on both of your bellies. But he’s still hard. And he keeps going, huffing and snarling. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“Malleus, Malleus, Malleus —!”

“Louder,” he growls, mouthing at the curve of your shoulder in the ghost of a bite, “let them know who is making you feel so good, let them know who claims you!”

And oh, if it’s not frightening in the most wonderful of ways. Your voice pitches and peaks as he brings one hand down to rub furiously at your clit. The orgasm building in you crests over you as a wave, drowning you in its wake. He howls as you pulse around him and follows close behind. The stickiness you feel as he pulls away from you is only a momentary concern. You’re shoved down to the sheets. Standing lordly over you, Malleus stares down with pupils blown wide. He pants with an open mouth, fisting both cocks with one trembling hand.

“You’ll take both now, won’t you?”

The prospect is dizzying. Your lips move soundlessly for a moment. “W-will they..? I mean, can they…”

“They will.” It’s somewhere between a reassurance and a demand. “Spread yourself.”

You reach down and part your folds with two fingers. Looking away, you try to hide the shame blossoming on your face. Then he purrs, stroking the soaked rim of your cunt with a loving, gentle touch.

“So lovely, so perfect,” he murmurs. “Look me in the eye, my mate. Yes, that’s a good girl. I want to see your face.”

He nudges the heads of his twin cocks against your cunt, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Meanwhile, you try to steady your breathing and relax your muscles. Even with the potions still coursing through your veins, you know it will hurt if you stay so tense. His fingers move to help spread you further, and now he begins the slow process of entering you. Wholly. Your hand snaps up to your mouth, and you sink your teeth into the flesh of your palm to stifle your shriek. Because it fucking hurts. You’ve never been stretched this much before, and you’re pretty sure that most people who do this kind of shit do size training or something for a while before attempting anything similar. There wasn’t really any time to train, though, so you have to grit your teeth through the pain of being stuffed beyond anything you’ve ever experienced before. He moves slowly, pausing every second to stroke your hair and kiss your face and praise you over and over. It takes some time and lots of measured breathing for the burn to turn from pain to pleasure, and eventually you begin to rock up against him. Together, his cocks are thicker than your forearm at their widest, and it’s a stretch far beyond anything else you’ve experienced before today. Despite your nerves, you glance down. You can barely see it but yes, holy shit, that’s your cunt stretched almost to its limits around this dragon’s two (two! holy shit!) cocks. Vertigo hits you, and you gasp as your head falls back against the sheets.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice shaking.

“It’s a lot.”

“Too much?”

“I need… I think I need another minute. You’re big.” You shut your eyes and continue your slow, measured breathing. Malleus busies himself with marking up every square inch of skin that’s not already covered in bruises and bitemarks. After some more time collecting yourself, you once again start your slow rocking. “S-sorry, it was just… a lot. Seeing it. Us. You.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You are incredible. The sight is almost enough to make me reel, as well… such a good mate. I knew you would be perfect, my sweet mate. I knew you could take me.”

The words leave him in a rush, and he finally starts to fuck into you. His breath is ragged, mouth open and panting and nigh drooling onto your naked chest. He gnashes his teeth when you keen, flexes his fingers into the plush of your thighs as you call his name. You slide your hand between your joined bodies to touch yourself, even though the stimulation is almost too much. “Almost” being the operative word here — you’re pretty sure you won’t explode. But you feel pretty close to it.

Then there’s a cool, wet tongue on your cheek, and you’re completely jarred out of your impending orgasm. You stare up at Malleus in mute shock, his face only a breath away from yours. Those hazy green eyes stare right back. “Your tears,” he says, “are like honey. I want them. All of them. I want to keep you. Mine. Mine.”

You realize now that there are dark scales climbing up his porcelain neck, and a long, scaly tail lashes about behind him. The heat must have awakened something primal in him — dragons hoard things, don’t they? Does he think you’re a part of his hoard? Do you even mind that idea?

You could have a future here. With him. He’s offered it before, and as he looks at you now with veritable hearts in his eyes, you know that he spoke true.

“Let me keep you. I want to be with you forever, I want to see you bear our clutch. My grandmother would — shit — would adore you. You could be my queen. Beautiful and terrifying. I would give you everything. Everything.”

It’s probably his hormones talking, but you can’t deny the appeal of a handsome man speaking about how utterly devoted he is to you. You could get used to it. And then he touches your face like you’re made of spun sugar, the gentleness a sharp contrast to his frenzied fucking, and you melt again.

He goes at it like this for a while. Fucks you full of cum until you feel fit to burst — and then he keeps going and going. The first time you black out, it’s while he’s still on top of you. You reach a dizzying climax, then you black out again. Then, you come to lying on your side, back pressed to his clammy chest while he grinds his hips against your ass.

“Are… are you alright? It seems that the stamina tonic is… hah… beginning to wear thin.”

“Did you keep going?” you whisper.

“Yes. Is that alright?”

His words send your mind reeling, and you know you’d be wetter if that were even possible. You grind back against him. “More than alright. Shit, I’m glad I told you yes.”

“If only you could have seen it,” he says as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. He lifts your leg and nudges his knee beneath it. The steady grind of his hips turns into full thrusts. “You looked so peaceful in sleep, even after all that we have done. And your body was so welcoming. They say that the sleeping princess was unnaturally alluring even in her sleep. I think you are the closest I shall ever get to seeing such a thing for myself.” Behind the both of you, his heavy tail thumps a staccato rhythm against the sheets. His breath stutters as he comes and then he rolls you onto your stomach and the world becomes mush again.

You wake up warm and tingling and sore between your legs. Dizzy, you turn to face Malleus. He’s fast asleep beside you, face relaxed and lovely. He breathes more evenly now, and the flush that had spread across his face and chest has lessened. Carefully, so as not to wake him, you lift your hand and brush the backs of your fingers along the line of his jaw. His lashes flutter, and a contented sigh leaves him, but he doesn’t wake. The strong arm draped over your body only pulls you closer. You doze off with your fingers still caressing his face.

Again, you wake up. He’s staring at you, eyes soft with affection. One long finger traces your lips, so you stick out your tongue and lick the pad. Malleus glances down briefly, then meets your eyes again with a soft chuckle.

“Hey stranger,” you mumble.

“Hello.” A pause. “How do you feel?”

“A little sore. Sleepy. Happy. You?”

“Like a new man. I believe that the worst is behind me.” He cups your cheek. When he kisses you, it’s devoid of the desperate hunger you’ve grown used to over the course of the past couple of days. He parts from you with a soft pop. “Thank you. I owe you a debt of gratitude for all that you’ve done for me. Whatever you desire, name it and it is yours.”

You want to tell him that it’s alright, he doesn’t owe you anything. But you swear you can hear a certain furball’s yowling, and you sigh and laugh. “Fancy tuna for Grim, I guess.” Then you become very aware of how sticky you are again. You grimace. “And a bath.”

“May I join you?”

You don’t think much bathing will be done if he joins, but you can’t help your returning grin. “Of course.”

[skadilothbrok]

Given The Chance - Chapter 10

The tower was supposed to be relatively empty according to the reports, but every corner you rounded it was like another soldier appeared. You’d already taken out almost a dozen by the time you got to the base of it to start setting charges.

A bullet hit the concrete right beside your head and you ducked back down just in time to miss the next one that would’ve killed you. You spent your last few bullets taking care of the two men who’d took the shots at you before determinedly turning back to the charges.

You’d never set charges so fast before in your life. Five minutes later you were turning to make your way back to Freddy. No sooner had you popped your head around the corner though, did rifle shots ring out. “Oh come on” you complained as you darted back around the corner.

Time wasn’t with you. You’d set the fuses short. On the plus side though, if they kept close enough to keep you pinned down, they’d be blown to pieces right alongside you. Pulling two of your throwing knives out, you waited for the shots to stop before showing yourself just long enough to throw them.

One hit home in a soldiers chest but the other barely grazed the arm of another. Not to mention the third man you spotted. Back behind cover you pulled out the final two blades that you had. Dropping your head against the wall you closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing. Anders’ face flashed through your mind and a smile found its way on your lips.

If this was it, at least you’d met him. Though you desperately wanted to stay with him. Taking one final breath you rounded the corner and prepared to meet your fate.

Your knives flew with deadly speed. One planted straight through the eye of soldier number one. Soldier number two ducked just in time for your other to fly harmlessly over his head. Continuing your sprint towards him you just hoped you could reach him before he shot.

The distance remained too wide though as he lifted the rifle and took aim. Time seemed to slow as you saw his finger move to the trigger.

You stopped where you were and stared at the man who was about to kill you.

His finger started to pull the trigger. 

Until an arrow burst from his forehead.

And then another through his chest. And another. And another.

As he fell face first into the dirt you released the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding. Anders appeared seconds later, sprinting over to you after dropping the bow and pulling you into the most desperate embrace you’d ever had.

He moved back from you and placed his hands on your face, staring into your eyes “don’t ever scare me like that again”. You nodded and pulled him in for a kiss that unfortunately had to be brief.

“The charges are going to blow any moment” you told him. He refused to drop your hand as you took off in a dead sprint. The explosions rang out before you’d fully cleared the area and shrapnel rained down over you both. “Shit” you dropped to the ground and took the best cover you could.

You felt Anders shield your body with his and silently scolded him for risking his safety for yours. When the explosion stopped, you removed your arms from your head. Anders moved above you and stood up, favouring his left side more. “Now you’re the one scaring me” you chided as you gave him a quick once over.

“We should take up safer hobbies it seems” he joked.

“I’m about ready for retirement at this point” you replied.

When you reached the others, they all gave a celebratory cheer before getting out of there.

Back at your base of operations, Freddy’s wound was treated. Anders had carefully worked to stitch up the wound on your arm, and you watched him in a comfortable silence as he tried to be as gentle as possible.

Later that afternoon the Ministry received communications from Churchill himself. Germany had finally surrendered.

The war was over.

Your group sat in silence for a moment before loud cheers erupted around the room. Anders grabbed you into a hug and lifted you from the ground. Spinning you around with pure delight. You leaned down to place a kiss on his lips.

“Looks like we get to retire even quicker than I thought” you beamed as he placed you back down.

“It does” he agreed “but I do have one request first” he took your hand in his and lead you out of the room.

“Sneaking off with me already?” you laughed as you followed him.

“Plenty of time for that” he gave your hand a squeeze before turning back to face you “after this” he pulled something from his pocket. Your heart jumped as he dropped to a knee and revealed the item in his hand to be a ring.

“Anders” you grinned widely as your heart quickened.

He smiled up at you “you’re the only woman I can ever imagine spending my life with. You truly are perfect for me and my world is nothing if you’re not in it. Will you do me the honour of becoming Mrs Lassen?”

“I’d love to” your answer wasn’t even one you had to think over. He jumped up seconds later and pulled you back against him, kissing you so desperately that you almost forgot you needed air. He placed a few more kisses against your lips before parting to place the ring on your finger.

“It’s gorgeous” you were stunned at the beauty of it as he slid it onto your finger.

“It was my grandmothers” he told you proudly “my mother gave it to me the other day”. You placed your hands on either side of his face and admired him for a moment before pulling him back in for another kiss.

“Anders. Y/n” Marjorie called and you both turned to face her as she came into the corridor “don’t go running off just yet, we’ve pulled out a bottle of the good stuff”.

“We can have a celebratory drink I suppose” Anders answered “it really is a celebratory day”. You smiled wider than ever as Marjorie’s eyes dropped to your entwined hands and the ring that now sat proudly on your finger.

“Oh my god” she spoke with excitement “are you two…did you…” The rest of the team appeared from the doorway behind her, interested in what was going on. You shared a look with Anders before lifting your hand and the ring up for them to see. Cheers erupted from them all and they all rushed to pull you into excited hugs.

The war was over. Your friends were all still here. And the man that you loved was about to become yours forever. You couldn’t have been happier.

Given the chance there's not a thing you’d change.