#sorry if this makes no sense i’m about to go to sleep and also don’t know what i’m talking about
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What if I just rambled in the tags rn?
#personal stuff don’t mind me#just musings about sex and relationships#am I ace or aro? am I just opposed to the idea of a relationship cause I feel like I could never trust anyone on that level?#am I ace? sex sounds fun enough but it also doesn’t feel necessary? and I can’t imagine ever wanting to sleep with anyone#I literally never considered this until one of my friends complained to me about being sexually frustrated and I was like ???#??? THATS A REAL THING ???#I THOUGHT IT WAS A JOKE#where am I going with this#I’ve had 4 crushes in my life (excluding fictional characters cause I don’t think that’s the same)#I’m definitely bisexual#and yet am I? am I even attracted to anyone?#maybe I’m just on the ace spectrum somewhere?#and does it even really matter? why should I feel like I have to label it?#maybe it’s cause I feel like I have to label it to be valid#otherwise people view you as a loser#it’s frustrating#people talk about the concept of virginity being meaningless#and I usually see people talk about it in the sense of like#having lots of sex and sleeping with lots of people doesn’t make you impure#(which is true!!!)#but I feel like some people who say that still look down on people who don’t have sex#and view them as no fun or prudes or whatever#and the double standards piss me off#lol sorry for all of this I just need to ramble somewhere#ollie rambles#adding on#like the fact that I’m ashamed to admit even in the tags here that I’ve not had sex before is ridiculous!!!#it shouldn’t be this way!!!!#it’s something completely neutral!!!!!#it should be on the same level as admitting I’ve never tried melon or never been rollerblading!!!!
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random question that you don’t have to have an answer to or want to answer in general: do you have any advice on becoming an at least somewhat popular blog about a certain fandom (specifically hlvrai but like. in general’s fine). i’ve been wanting to post more hlvrai art and textposts, and i know just consistently posting shit is how you gain more of a following, but i didn’t know if there’s any like. other specific ways to help get more popular or whatever. again, you don’t have to answer, i just thought i’d ask someone who might know better than me. also just wanted to say i adore your art, especially the way u draw benrey :)
oh god i would genuinely really like to help you but i honestly don’t know i think i just got really lucky 😭😭 i know everyone says it but i really did not expect to get this popular on both tumblr and twitter i didn’t even know there were this many hlvrai fans left. i can tryyyy and give you some advice but i’ll be pulling it all out of my ass so take it with a grain of salt (also i can’t speak on other fandoms because hlvrai is the only fandom i’ve ever posted art for)
for one i think i just got kind of lucky for when i started posting on this account because it was just a little before the hl2vrai announcement came out i was getting most of my engagement during that time period. consistent posts are definitely important though i think that matters a little less on tumblr than it does twitter because tumblr’s algorithm is entirely user-based. other than that i feel like i just draw a lot of what people want to see i guess? not that i’m trying to cater to an audience, that stuff just happens to also be the stuff that i want to see. redraws of stupid images or text posts as the hlvrai guys and tommy doing mundane shit are my favorite things to post i think people like that. speaking of tommy i think the fact that i like him so much as helped me grow LMFAO there’s nothing artificial about it i just really really like him i’m actually a lot more tame about him on my public socials. i’ve had friends, mutuals, and random people i don’t know tell me i’m number one tommy fan or something along those lines multiple times i think i’m kind of known for it
overall best advice i can give you is to draw what’s fun for you and not what you think will make you popular. i know lack of engagement can be discouraging but you will lose your passion to draw if you don’t draw what you want. be yourself and you’ll get the audience you want even if it’s small warmsmile emoji
#THANK YOU FOR THE KIND WORDS BTW i’m happy you like my benrey 💙💙 ty to everyone who’s gotten me this far i’m eternally grateful for you all#sorry if this makes no sense i’m about to go to sleep and also don’t know what i’m talking about#and sorry to the 15 people on my priv twt who might’ve thought i was cool before seeing the stuff i post on there i should relearn shame#long post#<- idk just in case#tobispeak#asks
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I really want to write about how actually disturbing pockets death is/ also a bit about Estella and possibly pip because most (normal) people don’t look to much into things like that but I’m autistic so
I might post it on here but I really don’t want a certain group of people to see it
I’ll still write it ofc but I might not publicly post about it if I’m still paranoid
(Off topic but joe looks like a giant compared to pocket even when sitting but it’s just that the sp kids are so short)
#btw the group of people is pro/comshippers#this is something I’ve just noticed in the show and on the official sp website#because a lot of people take their info from the fan wiki#really I’m just gonna write about how both pocket and Estelle are both victims of abuse#just rewatch the episode you’ll know what I mean#but oh my god I don’t want com shippers seeing it and going#oh wow time to romanticise this#enjoy my little rant thingy#btw I’d any other insane people would like to talk about characters from a 20 year old episode I’m free#ALSO..sorry for any typos of if this makes no sense it’s almost 2 am and I can’t sleep
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boy, those last 2 weeks have been HECTIC, i am glad to be finally having a day off after working 11 days straight, 10 hours almost every day
#honestly don’t know how i’m not dead#it was SO FUCKING BUSY#and we are (as usual) understaffed and my chef is on maternity leave and GUESS WHO is getting fucked over bc she’s filling in for her???????#you guessed it. your gal right here.#i think i’ll just sleep for a whole day now#i don’t even have food at home bc i didn’t have time to go to the supermarket#been feeding on chips and chocolate and instant pasta (disgusting but yeah)#i’m drinking chamomile tea rn to see if i can get a good night of sleep#i don’t drink tea!!!!!#(i also don’t know how accurate it is but people say it helps so)#bubbles posts#sorry about the rant i’m just so exhausted#i don’t even know if words make sense right now
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Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3
Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???
“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”
“9”
“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“
“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”
“I like breathing.”
“So.”
Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“
“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”
“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”
“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”
“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”
“What did you call me—“
“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”
The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.
Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.
“I…moaned your name too.”
“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”
“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”
Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”
“What?”
“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”
“That CANNOT be the reason—“
“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”
“…well.”
“Well what.” He pouts.”
“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”
Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”
“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.
“Does your partner have any no’s during?”
“I’m not calling you a bitch.”
“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”
“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“
“You called me your slut yesterday.”
“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”
“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”
You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.
“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”
“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.
“Nobody else.”
“Hm?”
“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”
Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”
Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“
“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.
Little did you know it was the same for him with you.
“Anything else?”
“I won’t do race or age play.”
“What the hell…?—-“
“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“
“WHAT?”
You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”
Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”
“Take my laptop away from me.”
He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.
“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”
Damn it.
He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“
“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”
Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.
Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.
“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”
“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”
“You’re ganna be pissed.”
Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”
“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”
It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —
“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”
“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”
“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“
“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”
“You want to be overstimulated.”
What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.
“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”
In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.
“So the next question…”
“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”
“….y’can.”
It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.
What’s the worse that can happen?
#virgin bakugo#Bakugo smut#bakugo x black reader#bakugo katuski#katsuki bakugo mha#bnha bakugo katsuki#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bakugo headcanons#bakugou katsuki#mha headcanons#MHA smut#mha x black female reader#mha x black reader#mha x reader#mha#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n
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𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.
pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader
warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!
word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)
a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!
it’s almost like a sixth sense.
rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved.
when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.
“where were you? why did you leave me here?”
he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.
even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.
“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.
his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.
“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.
“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.
he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.
“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”
“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”
is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?
“you can read on the bed.”
“you won’t mind the lamp on?”
“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”
you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.
while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.
every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.
sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.
deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.
being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.
when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.
“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.
“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.
“it’s almost four.”
“and you’re going to sleep now?”
“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.
(...)
rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.
your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.
he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).
you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.
“go back to sleep.” he whispers.
“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”
“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.
“i’m okay, rafey.”
rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.
“you’re gonna be tired.”
“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”
rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.
“you have insomnia?”
“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”
you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.
after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.
“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.
“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”
“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.
“well, i’m just one call away.”
you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.
silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.
he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.
(...)
only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.
rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?
you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.
impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.
“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”
“what are you doing?”
“i’m studying for my exams.”
“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”
“i’d love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”
“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.
“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.
“y/n, please go to sleep.”
something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.
“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”
before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.
as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.
the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.
he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.
“what are you doing here, rafe?”
“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”
“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”
“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”
“i don’t wanna have sex.”
“i’m not talking about sex.”
oh.
“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”
“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”
you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?
“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”
“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”
it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.
“okay.”
rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.
you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.
you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.
the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.
you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.
the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.
“are your parents home?” he asks.
“no, why?”
“so i could have come through the door, huh.”
“yeah.” you laugh.
a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.
rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.
“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.
your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.
thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.
“nothin’. close your eyes.”
you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer.
why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.
that tried to drown his own sister.
why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?
probably.
(...)
as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.
when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.
the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.
when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.
he didn’t leave?
it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.
“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.
“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”
you laugh.
“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”
“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”
you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.
for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.
i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3
#my writings#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#drew starkey#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey oneshot#drew starkey imagine
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YOU’RE AN ANGEL, I’M A DOG ; SATORU GOJO
synopsis; an upcoming exam has been stressing you out, and satoru’s pleas for you to take care of yourself fall on deaf ears. he takes matters into his own hands.
word count; 4.3k
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, yan!gojo, as far as yanderes go he’s very mild i think (im sensitive u can trust me!!), mentions of blood, implied murder (not depicted!!), he threatens your professor w a knife lol, surprisingly fluffy??, gojo is soooo lovesick & smitten, he just wants his baby to live a happy life :( is that so wrong :((, also your parents love him <33 and he calls you honey <333 ideal man.
a/n; i blacked out & when i woke up this was in my drafts… mysterious. @kissxcore here u go alexis <33 one very smitten morally gray yan!gojo just for u!! i completely lost the plot halfway through but i had a lot of fun writing this!! :33 i don’t dabble in yan content at all so it was a fun lil challenge hehe, i hope it ended up . Somewhat .. decent…
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
”haah…”
— the sigh spills into the air, like a dot of ink on paper, dripping with exhaustion; a palpable fatigue that has his heart clenching beneath his ribs.
just as he feared, you’re here. again. seated on the couch, in the living room, legs crossed and framed by flimsy strings of moonlight; illuminated only by the dim light of the laptop in front of you. carding through your hair, blinking sluggishly.
another sigh. deep, exasperated, from satoru this time. he keeps a single hand on his hip, brows furrowed in soft disappointment.
”honey… what do you think you’re doing?”
you jolt, the sudden sound breaking you out of whatever trance you were previously in. when your gaze flits to his, craning your head to see him rest against the wall leading up to your bedroom, he thinks you look a little like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
it makes him smile. despite his disapproval.
”ah — satoru! it’s… um.” a moment passes. he can practically see the gears of your mind turning, searching for a good excuse. ”… not what it looks like?”
he clicks his tongue. ”nice try.”
then he’s walking towards you, in long strides, gliding across the room like a butterfly in search of nectar. from the sweetest flower there ever was.
even when said flower is still awake, past midnight, pulling an all-nighter despite his frequent advice not to. his very frequent, very thoughtful advice not to strain yourself until you just about pass out.
but you just won’t listen.
”’m disappointed in you, baby,” he huffs, just playful enough to ward off any genuine feelings of distress. he could never truly be disappointed in his baby. ”what did we say about studying this late, hm?”
a sheepish chuckle slips past your lips. satoru is standing in front of you, hands on his hips, raising a questioning eyebrow as you squirm. lighthearted, yes, but genuine. it makes you feel a little guilty.
”… sorry,” you breathe, closing the lid of your laptop. knowing he won’t let you stay up any longer. with the loss of light, your face becomes shrouded in darkness. ”just can’t sleep when i’m so stressed.”
at that, satoru makes a tiny noise — something worried, a little sad, from the base of his throat. a soft frown finds its way onto his lips, and he blinks the sleep away from his senses. plopping down beside you.
”i know. i’m not trying to lecture you,” he croons, reaching out to cradle the apple of your cheek. you melt into him like molten honey, easy and sweet. ”just worried. know you’re stressed.”
and he does. he does know — it’s all he’s been able to think about, these past few weeks. to his dismay, he’s even begun to grow used to this sight, used to finding you in the midst of working yourself to exhaustion. fighting the urge to sleep, slumped over your desk, or cooped up on the couch. staring into your laptop like it holds the secrets of the universe.
time and time again, he’s told you to take care of yourself. tried to coax you into relaxing, rubbing your sore shoulders and kissing the puffy skin beneath your eyes. but this exam is important — you’ve told him as much, more times than he can count. he doesn’t doubt that you’re right.
of course you’d be stressed. he gets it.
still, though.
”but you know it’s not good, yeah? that it’ll just burn you out?” his thumb goes to smooth over the dark crescents beneath your eyes, gentle as a feather. ”we don’t want that, do we?”
you bite your lip. trapping it between your teeth. he knows you know. ”… yeah,” you admit, a flimsy little sigh on your tongue. ”it just feels easier to do this at night. don’t know why.”
”my little night owl.”
that makes you smile, a little, but it’s not enough to satisfy him. he curls an arm around your waist, and drags you into his lap; gentle, always gentle, like all that exists under your skin is made of porcelain. like the lines of your face form a string of words, a label of fragile: handle with care. he always does.
with his heartbeat by your ear, his warmth melting into yours, it’s easier to speak. a pressure on your chest that fades away. ”i’ll try not to do it again,” you murmur, biting back a soft yawn. nuzzling into his neck. ”promise. don’t wanna worry you…”
satoru softens.
(always so good to him.)
”it’s fine, honey. i understand.” he smiles, smoothing down your spine, counting the bumps of vertebra that slide along his palm. ”don’t worry that pretty little head of yours over me, alright?”
in return for his comfort, you wriggle away, lifting your head to give him a smile. one of your many smiles, each one fervently cherished by him; the one you’re wearing now is tired, a soft curl of your lips, the kind that makes him want to lull you to sleep. just the sight alone makes the anxiety in his veins feel like a worthy investment.
he doesn’t tell you anything that could cause that joy to diminish. doesn’t tell you that he can’t sleep without you, that he can barely breathe knowing you’re this stressed all time. doesn’t tell you that he jolted awake with a sinking feeling of dread, a gaping pit in his stomach when he didn’t immediately feel the warmth of your skin against his. doesn’t tell you that he always, always assumes the worst.
satoru doesn’t tell you these things. it’s a safety measure, an act of love. a bundle of unvoiced syllables, woven into white lies, silky and sweet. tailor-made to put your aching mind at ease.
satoru thinks you deserve everything good.
it’s a theory, of sorts, a train of thought. a hypothesis made manifest. after many years of pondering, he’s arrived at the following conclusion; you are all that’s good. therefore, it only follows that you deserve everything that’s good, all of it and more. satoru believes you deserve every single thing your little heart desires — and he’s determined to give it to you.
so he’s been worried.
it’s not that he doesn’t trust you. he knows you’ll ace the exam, knows you’ll do your very best, knows you’ll make him proud. you always do. you aren’t the problem, no, never.
he just doesn’t trust your professor.
that unfair, stuck-up, incompetent professor who’d fail his students just for being a couple minutes late, who curates his exams to be as convoluted as humanly possible. you and your friends are starting to suspect he just likes berating people for a living. satoru knows it all, he’s heard it all, of course he has. satoru pays attention to everything, when it comes to you. he knows all about your professor, the man who’s been making your studies pure hell for the past semester.
it makes his blood boil. steady, ruminating, hot and heavy in his veins. a rivulet of lava.
(it was only a matter of time.)
satoru is a teacher too; he knows that type. one that has no business being a teacher, in the first place, one no student deserves to be subjected to. he’s met more of them in his career than he could even begin to count. the thought of one of his own students being at the mercy of someone so incompetent makes his skin itch.
and the thought of you, seated on the couch, crying and sniffling when he comes home because none of the exam questions made enough sense for you to even try —
it makes satoru want to claw his skin off.
it makes that tiny, tiny cavern in his heart extend, widen, like a maw, swallowing up his liver and lungs and sense of morality. an emptiness begging to be filled.
there’s only one way to satiate it.
so he plants a wet kiss on your forehead, ruffles your hair, tucks you into bed and waits until you fall asleep. deep and heavy, a slumber you won’t wake up from anytime soon. he presses his lips to your forehead one more time — for good measure.
then he grabs his coat and slips outside.
the moon is visible through the window.
a thin crescent, nailed next to the dim stars, leaking a dream-like fluorescent shine; illuminating the office, so quiet he can hear those erratic breaths spill out, one by one. a heavy, heavy silence, thick enough to spread like butter over toast.
(ah, that’s right — he forgot to buy the butter you asked for this morning. no wonder he feels so out of sorts. he’ll have to grab it on his way back.)
”who… w — what are — ?”
satoru stays silent. lips pursed, eyes keen, burning into the back of the man in front of him. close, almost chest to back, enough to have him scowling in displeasure.
just being in his presence makes satoru feel a little sick.
he keeps the blade pressed right beneath his adam’s apple, a silver glimmer in an office painted blue and gray. not enough to sink into his skin, but enough to have his heartbeat hammering, enough that satoru can practically feel those rapid flutters of life. brushing against his gloved hand.
he gets straight to the point. voice muffled by the fabric covering his mouth, low enough that it’s barely even audible. he’s careful, about this kind of thing. there’s a delicacy to the ill intent, something he’d be a little enamored with if it weren’t for the compass stuffed into his ribs — the compass that tells him this is wrong.
he just can’t bring himself to care.
”the upcoming exam.” his voice sends a shiver down the man’s spine. satoru can feel it. ”don’t fail a single student.”
silence. pure silence, suffocating them, tangling itself into the air. satoru can practically taste it — fear, familiar, that pang of panic. a ticking time-bomb. the knife stays pressed against warm skin, pushing, sinking, just a little, a drop of red against his pale throat.
it’s enough to get your professor to make a little noise, one that vaguely resembles a whine. like that of a small animal, rolling over on its belly, eager to play dead. no word is spoken in reply, but he nods, just barely, a nervous tremble of his head.
satoru hums, approving. ”good.” he doesn’t loosen his grip. ”there’s a particular student i’m worried about. marked them down in the catalogue... i’m counting on you.”
another noise. a grunt of affirmation, a silent plea — satoru allows that fear to seep into his own bones, just a little, just to get a taste of it. cold on his tongue. he wonders if this is what helplessness feels like.
then he takes a step back. slow, tentative, dragging the knife with him. not before parting his lips once more. ”don’t turn around,” he warns. ”i’ll be back if there are any complications. this’ll be our little secret, hm?”
the man in front of him doesn’t say a thing. frozen in fear, paralyzed, not moving an inch. a fly trapped in his web. it’s a relief.
before he exits the room, satoru puts the final nail in the coffin. just in case. ”i happen to know what school your daughter goes to.” he waits for a flinch, and it comes almost instantly. like clockwork. “remember that.”
it’s an empty threat. your professor doesn’t know that, though. he doesn’t know that satoru knows his daughter, that he walks past her preschool almost every morning on his way to work. that she waves to him whenever he passes by, and that he makes it a point to always wave back. a little troublemaker; the rowdiest of utahime’s preschoolers. she has a bubbly laugh, and just lost one of her milk teeth. she was giddy when she showed him, a bout of giggles spilling from her lips as he cooed and ruffled her hair.
he wouldn’t lay a finger on her.
but your professor doesn’t know that, hasn’t got a single clue, and satoru delights in the fear that must be running through his veins. down his spine, crawling into every narrow of his skeleton, making a home for itself that he’ll never quite be able to root out.
a gulp. satoru hears it, in the quiet of nightfall, just before he shuts the door behind him. good.
the rest of the evening is a blur. satoru gets home, relieved to find you still asleep, and tucks you into his chest. makes a mental reminder to order your favorite take out tomorrow; a little reward for your hard work.
finally, he can sleep easy. knowing you’ll get what you deserve.
three weeks later, satoru places his hand on the familiar doorknob in front of him, dragging his weight behind him. blinking sluggishly.
there’s a sinking feeling in his chest, weighing him down — like an anchor tied to his liver. a compass, tucked between his fourth and fifth rib, one that’ll always stay lodged right there. he’s learned to grow used to it, a natural consequence, a sign that his humanity is still intact.
that doesn’t make it any less bothersome, though.
(ridding the world of a pest shouldn’t make him feel dirty. especially when he felt nothing but contempt for the pest in question, for the way he whistled as you walked by, the words he spewed before satoru met his eye. vile. putrid. why should he feel guilty for wiping a stain off the pavement?
it does make him feel dirty, though. a sinking feeling in his chest.)
there’s nothing to be done about it. satoru swallows the unpleasant taste on his tongue, and drags the door open, closing it behind him with a softness he reserves for you alone.
and there you are.
on the couch, farther away, already looking his way — lips instantly curling up into what he knows will be a smile. this time, it’s laced with excitement. one of his personal favorites. his gaze devours the joy in your features, the glimpse he gets of your teeth, that familiar crinkle of your eyes.
you’re smiling. at him. you smile and his world wakes up, it’s dyed in different shades of blue, it’s brimming with life and love and something too good not to kill for. you smile and everything is right, good, worth it. you smile and it's as if the blood has been washed off his hands.
suddenly, all is well again. satoru exhales a blissful little breath.
“‘m home, honey,” he grins, a light pink dusting his cheeks, hanging his coat up before turning to face you. arms wide open. “did you miss me?”
his heartbeat stutters when you practically engulf him, all giddy giggles and that perfect smile, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “mhm,” is what you chirp, pressing kisses down his collarbone, and he has to bite down on his lip to stop the shivers trailing down his spine. he tastes iron, but laps it up with a coo. sickly-sweet.
“missed you too, precious,” he purrs. “sorry i was gone for so long — had to take care of something.”
he cups the back of your skull with his palm, large and crafted just to hold you, and marvels at how much you trust him. how you’re melting into his chest, fitting into every crevice of his heart. he wants to keep you there forever. forever and ever, always within reach, always close enough to touch.
but he also wants you to be happy. he wants to see you run away, wherever the wind takes you, if only so he’ll get to feel you jump into his arms again, when you’ve had your fill of the world. when you come home to him, where you both belong.
satoru would never cage you. never, never, never. he wants you to enjoy your life — confining you wouldn’t do any good, would only stifle that pretty smile he loves so dearly. he wants your world to be large, brimming with life, blooming with fervor, wants the air to be clear enough for your beautiful lungs. he couldn’t build a world for you, here, in this apartment. no matter how big or luxurious.
so his only option is to bend the world into a kinder shape — twist and mold until it forms a path good enough for you to follow.
(it’s worth it, he knows, he’ll always know. it’s worth it to see that smile.)
“is that a new coat?” you ask, naive and innocent, and it breaks him out of his thoughts, attention wired to the lilt of your voice.
“yeah.” it’s stylish, expensive, a nice shade of black. he had to throw the last one away. “looks nice, right? i’ll get you the same one, pretty.”
“you don’t have to, toru!” you hurriedly exclaim, knowing he’ll jump at the opportunity to spoil you. “i like the one i have now!”
satoru pouts. a soft huff, right by your ear. “you don’t wanna wear matching coats?” he feigns sadness, scratching softly at your scalp, drinking up the little purrs that bubble up in your throat.
and you giggle. you giggle and all he can think is worth it, worth it, worth it. a stained coat or two means nothing. the blood on his hands is just insurance.
“well, when you put it like that…” you shift a little, curling your arms around his neck, breathing him in. he wonders if you can smell the cleaning detergent. “i guess i wouldn’t mind a new coat.”
and he grins. “right? want me to buy you new shoes while i’m at it? some jewelry?” he peppers kisses down your neck, amusement laced in his voice. “the whole store?”
again, those giggles. again and again. he laps them up like fine wine. “okay, that’s too much.”
“but you deserve it!” he whines, sickeningly sweet. sick to his stomach with love. “been working so hard, my angel.”
and, suddenly — you light up. his little firefly. brightening, inhaling a giddy breath. pulling away, a little, and he does his best to bite back the frown on his face. you’re practically beaming, sunshine personified, eyes glittering with giddy joy.
“right! i almost forgot!”
then you’re skipping away, happily, to retrieve your phone. and he knows what you’re going to show him, but still feigns surprise when he sees the score on your exam, that perfect 100 on the screen. still makes an expression of shock that he knows will get you to laugh, still picks you up and spins you around and tells you how proud he is.
he almost, almost feels bad, seeing you smile so wide; at what you assume to be the fruits of your own labour. almost feels ashamed, knowing that perfect 100 wouldn’t exist without the knife at your professor’s throat.
but, then again, this is how it should be. those numbers are the fruits of your own labour, because satoru is a part of you. and you deserve it, deserve it more than anyone — he knows you would have gotten it, even without his help, if your professor was competent enough to see your brilliance.
satoru smiles. he is proud of you. and this is exactly how it should be. he’s just bending the world into its rightful shape, cutting strings from a wrongly woven web, righting the wrongs of the people around you.
you, you, you. the only thing that exists.
all of him is for you.
”i knew you could do it. never doubted you for a second, baby,” he smiles, so wide his cheeks hurt, and you return it with a kiss to his jaw.
”thank you. i’m just so relieved,” you exhale a breath, heavy, and it’s like he can practically see the stress melting from your shoulders and eyes. worth it, worth it, worth it. ”gosh. i’m gonna sleep like the dead tonight.”
”as you should,” satoru chirps, pinching your side. softly, brimming with fondness. ”but before that, we’re gonna celebrate. all day. and tomorrow too!”
another smile coaxed from your lips; this time, it’s a little bit shy. bashful, at the praise, his endless excitement. so precious he wants to kiss you breathless. give you all the air in his lungs.
so precious that he forgets about everything else.
this is what you always do to him; wrap him up in a blanket of your love, cloud his veins with a nectar so sweet he takes the leap into your arms without a second thought. a foolish, lovesick butterfly, sticking to a single rose; dripping with honey, overflowing. the butterfly is too drunk on love to care.
you’re his flower, his joy, the most useful form of anesthesia. with you in his veins, on his mind, your lips on his jaw — satoru can pretend that his hands are clean. that they always have been.
it all slips from his mind. your professor, the creep who catcalled you yesterday, that one classmate you’ve been complaining about recently. he forgets that they even exists, and satoru thinks that must be what love is: something that narrows your world down until you can make a home out of it.
(something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.)
as always, it’s your voice that snaps him out of the trance he’s in. turning around at the sound of your call, the orpheus to your eurydice, too in love to save you from himself. you’re both getting ready to head out, dressing up for a well-deserved date.
satoru feels himself smile. he does the dirty work, and you get to reap the rewards. heaven on earth.
“oh, by the way! would you want to have dinner with my parents tomorrow?” you meet his absent gaze with a tilt of your head. “they’ve been asking about you again. it’s such a headache, seriously.”
satoru giggles, barely containing how delighted he is. raising a playful brow. “oh? grumpy that you aren’t the favorite child anymore, hm?”
“okay, first of all —“ you stifle a giggle, pulling a drawer open, rummaging through it. freshly washed clothes. he washes most of your things. “you aren’t their child. and second of all —“
“— yet.”
a pause.
satoru watches your gaze flick over to him, then back to the drawer, collecting yourself. a cute flush to your cheeks. “… whatever.” you clear your throat. “second of all — i don’t like how much they like you. what kinda spell did you put them under? it’s always satoru this, satoru that!”
a huff fills the air, and you mutter something that sounds a little like mocking, an obnoxiously imitated where’s satoru? that makes him chuckle into his fist.
he shrugs. “i’m just a natural charmer, y’know? and, for the record; i would love to have dinner with them.” he sends you a wink, playful, and you roll your eyes. “are you joining us?”
a bout of laughter pushes past your lips, and satoru thinks he could die happy — just soaking up the joy that spills from out your throat. he wishes he could live in it, paint your house in it, wear it. he wants your joy to be all he ever feels. he feels sick at the idea of ever being out of earshot for it.
“yes, i’m joining you.” your scoff is dripping with humour. ”i’d hate to be the fourth wheel, but it is what it is.”
satoru stifles a grin. ”lucky me. three beauties all to myself,” he drawls, a seductive lilt to his voice, just to hear that little noise you always make with the back of your throat. vaguely disgusted.
”you’re so gross.”
a coo. like the buzzing of a bee. ”don’t be jealous, honey. know you’re my favorite, don’t you?” satoru smiles — more sincere than you’ll ever know. ”could never love anyone else.”
”so my parents are in second place?” you quirk a brow, amusement lacing your words, and he clicks his tongue.
”well, they made you. i’d have to be a fool not to worship artists of such caliber.”
”charmer.”
”yours.” the word is a knife at his throat, a stain on his coat, a love so heavy it’ll burn him alive. ”only yours.”
and again, you smile. all he can think is that you deserve everything, everything he could ever give you. it’s all he can think as you go about your day, as he leads you outside, as he watches that flicker of joy dance inside your iris. as he watches you walk wherever your heart takes you.
the thought remains when you return home, when you wrap yourselves up in blankets and he throws a leg over your waist and you curl an arm around his ribcage. it’s all he can think.
satoru was born to be of service — to someone, to the world, to something or another. he was born to carry a weight on his back, so why not bear the weight of your burdens?
all he wants is to protect you. all he’ll ever need is that smile on your face. he was always bound to be just this: a dog at your heels, a halo around your head, the watchful eye keeping you safe from everything rotten in this world. he’s the butterfly, the spider, the web itself. and he’ll never let you be tangled up in it.
he was born to be of service to you. so service you he will, until it all comes back to bite him.
“satoruuu — stop stealing the blanket!”
he prays it never will.
#im a lil unsure how to feel abt this piece i feel like it lost its flow pretty quickly 😔👉👈but i rlly did have fun writing it hehe#my baseline for yan!gojo is basically; a kind man who’s so in love w u that he’s willing to compromise his own morals to keep u safe#he’s not particularly possessive or even obsessive?? to him violence really is just . a necessary means to keep u happy#this is almost definitely the only yan piece ill ever write bUT im very fond of this gojo … he’s a tortured little meowmeow <33#cw yandere#yandere gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#tw yandere
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Hazbin Hotel Characters:
Forgetting an anniversary
A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—
Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.
Not really proofread
I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—
Lucifer:
To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.
This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.
You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.
For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.
He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.
So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.
When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.
However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.
You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.
Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.
(And he is)
He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.
All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.
It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.
This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.
“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”
Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.
This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)
Vox:
Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.
This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.
He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.
The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.
(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)
So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.
He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.
He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch
A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.
His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.
The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.
But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.
(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)
Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.
Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;
“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”
“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”
“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”
“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”
He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.
Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.
By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.
And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.
His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.
To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.
He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.
(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)
Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.
Alastor:
He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.
You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.
But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.
Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.
He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.
He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.
(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)
He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.
Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.
He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.
Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.
He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.
He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.
He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.
You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.
And this absolutely gets under his skin.
Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.
Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.
Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.
Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.
You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.
You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.
Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.
(At least that’s what it felt like)
The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.
“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”
Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.
But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.
Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.
His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.
(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)
He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.
The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.
He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.
#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#character x reader#vox x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader#vox#lucifer morningstar#alastor
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Forget
Joel Miller x f!reader
word count: 5.4k
Summary: After waking up from what felt like the best night ever, you wanted to figure out what Joel’s thoughts about what was going on, were.
Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel acting like a total jerk, language, unprotected piv, pet names, reader uses feminine pronouns, jackson era!Joel, slight fluff towards the end, arguing, angst, no use of Y/N, apologies if anything was missed.
please read A/N: guys, i tried so freaking hard to like this, but i just can’t. so, i am so sorry if you feel the same way as me. i really tried my hardest. i’m not sure if i want this to be the last part, but i can kinda feel it going towards that route, so im going to say this once, thank you so much for all the support for this mini series. i couldn’t be more grateful. thank you. and once again, i am so fucking sorry if you don’t like this. please don’t hate me. 🤗 oh, and also, ntm on the photos not matching, honestly could careless ab the damn photos.
part one part two
Joel couldn’t get a wink of sleep last night, the feeling of you being so close to him, in his arms, feeling your warm body against his, having your scent fill his nose, all of it was too much.
Every time he closed his eyes, memories of your shared night and the warmth of your touch would flood his mind, making his heart race. The moonlight filtering through the curtains enveloped a soft glow on your face, making you look even more serene and beautiful, which only added to his restless thoughts.
He laid there for a couple more hours, listening to your breathing, the way you’d mutter in your sleep, the little sounds that would escape you. Each breath you took seemed to synchronize with his heartbeat, creating a rhythm that was both comforting and unsettling. But he knew he had to leave. He knew he couldn’t stay because what was this?
What were you two?
The uncertainty gnawed at him, and the fear of crossing a line that could change everything between you both was overwhelming.
So, he eventually slid out of your bed, picking up his clothes and getting dressed. He moved quietly, trying not to wake you, stealing one last glance at your peaceful face before slipping out the door.
As he walked away, the cool night air hit him, a slight contrast to the warmth he had just left behind. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but he knew he needed to figure out what this meant for both of you.
—
You blinked your eyes open, the sun shining through the crack of your curtains into your room. The sheets of your bed hugged your body perfectly, stretching your arms out with a yawn.
You expected to feel a big and warm body, but you didn’t.
You just felt the ruffled-up blanket. The familiar warmth and comfort were missing, replaced by a cold emptiness that made you shiver slightly.
You turned your body, nothing. No one. He left. You glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table, the bright red numbers glaring at you.
With it being the ass crack of dawn, you’d be expecting him to be waking up now.
Did he leave last night? You asked him to stay.
The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and a wave of disappointment washed over you. You replayed the moments of the previous night in your head, trying to understand why he would leave without a word.
You sat up, confusion taking over your features. For some odd reason, your heart felt heavy. You wanted him to be there when you woke up. You needed him too because now that he wasn’t, was it even real?
The questions swirled in your mind, each one adding to the ache in your chest. The silence of the room seemed to echo the emptiness you felt inside.
You stood up, not bothering to put on the old bra and shirt from last night, turning the shower on as you pulled your panties off, hopping in. The warm water cascaded over you, but it did little to wash away the sense of loss and confusion. You hoped the shower would clear your mind, letting the water run down your face.
But it didn’t.
The shower didn’t work. You couldn’t get the situation off your mind. You couldn’t get him off your mind. It couldn’t have been real, but the faint memory of him running his rough fingers down your skin, the way he felt inside of you, stayed in your mind. The sensation was so vivid, it was almost as if you could still feel his touch, haunting you with every passing second.
You needed to see him. To talk to him. You prayed he wasn't anywhere but his house. The first place you could expect him to be was his house. So, you found yourself there. The walk to his place felt like an eternity, each step heavy with anticipation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached his door.
Softly banging on the door, no answer. Peeking through the window, no sight.
“Fucking Joel.” You whisper breathily. How fucking surprising was that. Joel Miller finally left his house.
For a second there your heart dropped, praying that he didn’t get patrol duty.
Goddamn it. I mean you could wait, but you didn’t want to.
You didn’t want to go back home, so you didn’t, knuckles bruising as you hit them against the door. The pain shot through your hand, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside you. Still no fucking answer. You stepped back and glanced up at the house, looking for a way to get in.
No way in from the front, window was shut tightly, curtains drawn as if to shut out the world.
So, like any sane person who was looking for a — friend, you walked towards the back to maybe get in from the patio door. But that’s when you heard it.
Sweet music, fingers strumming away at the strings from what sounds like a guitar, and sweet, and quiet humming. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, calming to the chaos in your mind.
You poked your head around the corner, Joel sitting in a plastic, white chair, guitar in hands. He nodded his head softly as he felt the music, eyes closed, and body relaxed with a cup of coffee on the small table next to him.
The steam from the coffee rose in gentle spirals, mingling with the early morning mist.
His foot tapped lightly in rhythm with the music, completely unaware of your presence.
You felt stupid. You almost broke into his fucking house all because he was unable to hear the damn knocking.
You slowly stepped onto the wood, your sneakers making a loud noise that made Joel stop playing. The sound echoed in the stillness, shattering the tranquility.
He looked you up and down, setting his guitar down with no words spoken. The silence between you hung heavy, like a thick fog that neither of you could see through.
Joel's eyes, usually so full of warmth, seemed distant as they locked onto yours. The early morning sun cast long shadows, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of dew and freshly cut grass. You could hear the faint rustling of leaves in the background, the weight of unspoken words pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe.
You let out a quiet ‘hey’, smile slightly upside down as you leaned on the railing of the patio. Your eyes were basically inviting him over, so he obliged, grabbing his coffee, and standing beside you, a gap in between.
It was pretty much awkward. It was clear he didn’t forget about the activities from last night.
“I’ve been knocking.” Your voice breaking the silence, looking at him, but he avoided your gaze.
“I’ve been here all mornin’, didn’t hear it.”
"Something on your mind?" You knew exactly what was on his mind, but you thought, if you pushed it, maybe this moment wouldn’t be so goddamn awkward.
Each second of silence stretching longer than the last.
"Nothin’ on my mind," he replied, lifting the cup up to his lips, taking a light sip.
The steam from his coffee curled up into the air, mingling with the tension that seemed almost palpable between you. His eyes, though momentarily hidden behind the rim of the cup, betrayed his true thoughts.
His eyes, dark and guarded, flickered over to you. There was a heaviness in his gaze, a storm of unsaid words and pent-up emotions swirling just beneath the surface.
His expression unreadable, before letting out a quiet, almost resigned sigh. The sound was barely audible, yet it echoed in the stillness, amplifying the tension that crackled in the air like static electricity.
He wanted you to say something. He wanted you to just be honest and tell him exactly how you felt about last night, why you were there, if you even remotely felt what he did.
Instead, you were both standing there, avoiding each other’s gazes like idiots.
Your heart raced; each beat a reminder of the words you were too afraid to speak. His sigh lingered in the air, a silent plea for you to break the cycle, to reach out and bridge the gap that seemed to widen with every passing moment.
"You gonna invite me in, or are you just gonna stand there?" You point lazily at the door.
Joel huffed a laugh, tilting his head slightly as he finally looked at you. “You’re being pushy today, ain’t ya?”
He was being a smartass, and he knew it, but it was his way of deflecting whatever the hell happened last night, and the way you were acting this morning.
The gesture is casual, almost dismissive, but your heart is going crazy. The morning sun filters through the trees, putting a warm glow on the porch where you both stand. His eyes flicker to the door and then back to you, a moment of hesitation that feels like an eternity.
His eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and challenge, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smirk that was all too familiar. The morning light radiating a golden halo around his figure, highlighting the lines of tension in his posture that belied his casual tone.
His eyes never left yours, a silent dare for you to cross the threshold and face whatever lay beyond.
As you stood there, you knew that stepping through that door meant more than just entering his home—it meant confronting the emotions and the history that had brought you to this moment.
He shifts his weight, the creak of the wooden floorboards echoing in the quiet day.
He finally turned away from the railing, his movements deliberate and measured, as if each step was a calculated effort to maintain his composure.
He held the door open for you with his empty hand, the gesture both an invitation and a challenge.
You looked around at the nicely decorated house as you stepped into the kitchen, Joel close behind you.
The place was immaculate, with tasteful decor that felt both homey and sophisticated. You leaned against the marble island, the cool surface grounding you as you watched his every move. He stood in front of you, his presence filling the room in a way that made it hard to breathe.
“Why didn’t you stay?” you asked, your voice cutting through the silence like a knife.
You wanted to know so badly that you basically said, ‘fuck the small talk, tell me why.’ You were so straightforward, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them.
Joel’s face remained impassive, his expression a mask of cold-stone indifference. His arms were crossed over his chest, a defensive posture that only added to the distance between you. His eyes, usually so expressive, were unreadable, and for a moment, you wondered if you’d ever get through to him. The tension in the room was evident, a silent battle of wills as you waited for him to break the silence.
He took a moment as he leaned on the counter, taking in your words. He wasn’t really sure how he was supposed to answer.
A part of him, a huge part of him, did want to stay. He wanted to hold your warm body, bask in your sleepy scent, and hear your soft breath hit his neck. But he knew he couldn’t.
He didn’t know what last night was. Why you let him come to you, why you let him touch you the way he wanted to for so long.
"Well?" You push, head tilting, your gaze unwavering.
The intensity in your eyes matched the urgency in your voice, demanding a response from him.
"I don’t know. Okay? I don’t know." He finally let out, throwing his hands up, frustration settling on his face.
The rawness in his voice cut through the air, his eyes burning with a mix of confusion and helplessness.
You threw your head back at his answer, arms falling to your side as you turned around, elbows on the counter, holding your head up as you groaned. The cool surface of the counter did little to soothe the storm inside you. You felt the frustration bubbling over, the unanswered questions and the emotional tumult taking their toll.
He was frustrated for a number of reasons. Mainly because he had no idea how to act in front of you now. The lines between you had blurred, and he was grappling with the new reality, unsure of where he stood. But most of all, because you wanted an explanation for something he didn’t even understand himself.
"What is this?" He questioned, looking up at you, his arms crossed against his chest. His voice was edged with exasperation.
"You just come over here to get on my ass?" His words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea wrapped into one, as he tried to make sense of the chaotic emotions twirling around both of you.
You leaned up instantly, your body closer to his. The heat of his breath mingled with yours, creating an almost suffocating intimacy. Your eyes locked onto his, searching for a glimmer of understanding, something to bridge the chasm between you.
"No, I came here so I could understand you. But that’s never happening, is it?" Your voice was low, but the intensity of your words cut through the silence like a knife.
You could feel the tension radiating off him, the anger and disbelief that mirrored your own. The proximity made it impossible to ignore the raw emotions.
“Not when you’re acting like this.” He muttered, his voice strained, barely above a whisper.
The words were a thin veil over the tumultuous emotions roiling just beneath the surface, a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control in a situation that felt increasingly out of hand.
Your bodies touched as you leaned closer, he was basically pressed up against you as you looked up at him, his chest rising and falling with a deep breath. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, creating an electric tension that was impossible to ignore.
He tried to keep his composure. He tried to not look at you like some piece of meat. He tried not to think about how close you were, how he could easily shove you down on this counter, or up against a wall. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, the struggle to maintain control evident in the tightness of his jaw and the flicker in his eyes.
But you weren’t making it easy. The intensity of your gaze, the proximity, the noticeable tension—it all made it nearly impossible for him to think straight.
At this point, this man was just stressing you out. You came to the conclusion that he was just trying to forget whatever happened last night, just like you tried forgetting what happened in the stables, but now you’re glad you didn’t, but for what? Look how he’s acting now.
“Joel, you’re really just gonna act like last night meant nothing? You’re just going to move on with life after that?” Your voice was sharp, each word laced with the hurt and confusion you felt.
Your words struck him like a damn brick. Because yes, that is what he was going to do. He was just going to act like last night wasn’t the best goddamn night of his life.
“That’s what you did.” He remarked, his tone cold and detached.
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the accusation clear.
He was right.
But you were standing right in front of him, and he could still hear the way you were moaning his name, a sound that echoed in his mind, driving him crazy.
He could still taste your lips, the sweetness lingering on his tongue, a reminder of the passion you shared. He could still smell you on him, your scent enveloping him, making it impossible to forget even if he tried.
You had no idea what to say. You weren’t going to deny it, because you do remember pushing him away, remember drinking to forget. All you could do was go along with it, even though it was going to hurt.
“Fine—“ Your voice cracked, strangled back deep in your throat. You cleared it as you spoke again. “It never happened. None of it.”
The words felt like knives in your mouth, each one cutting deeper into the fragile remnants of what you both shared. You could feel the weight of the silence that followed, a suffocating blanket that threatened to choke the last bit of resolve you had left. His eyes bore into yours, searching for a sign, any indication that you didn’t mean what you said.
But he wants to forget so fucking badly. Maybe you do too. Or maybe it’s meant to be this way.
Joel isn’t supposed to be knee-deep in your pussy. He’s supposed to be your best friend’s husband’s brother. Nothing else. It’s so simple.
Just forget. Just let it be like how it was before that day in the stables.
So, so, so, so simple.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
But you both knew it was all bullshit. He wasn’t the same man after he got a taste of you. And by the look you kept giving him, you weren’t the same either.
It’ll be forgotten. For now, at least. He won’t look at you with hungry eyes, you won’t look at him with a hopeful look.
“You should probably get going.” He muttered.
His voice was barely above a whisper, the words heavy with unspoken regret. The tension a suffocating fog that clung to every breath you took.
“Yeah.” You say quietly. You gathered yourself up, leading yourself to the front door with Joel behind you once again. None of this felt real. You felt like you were floating on your way to the door, your hands clasped together to avoid them shaking, your breath shortened.
As you turned to leave, the memories of that day in the stables flooded your mind—the way his hands had felt on your skin, the way his breath had mingled with yours. It had been a moment of raw, unfiltered passion, a moment that had changed everything.
Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the finality of his words. You forced yourself to nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You reached the door and paused, your hand hovering over the handle. You wanted to say something, anything, to break the silence, but the words wouldn’t come—
You can’t fucking do this.
You spun back so fast; Joel couldn’t even react. Your lips caught his, arms wrapping around his neck as he eased in closer to you. His initial surprise quickly melted away, and he returned the kiss with a fervor that matched your own. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of you in that moment, lost in a whirlwind of pent-up emotions.
His hands found your waist, pulling you closer as if he needed to feel every inch of you against him. The kiss deepened, becoming more desperate and passionate, a silent conversation of everything you both had been holding back.
You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heartbeat syncing with yours in a chaotic rhythm.
When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead rested against yours. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.
“What are we doing?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
You didn’t have an answer, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You both knew that whatever came next, it would be something you’d face together.
He shouldn’t give in, he really shouldn’t. He should push you away and make you leave.
But then he pulled you in again.
His hands were gripping you, and he was melting into the kiss. His self-respect was crumbling with every passing second, the warmth of your body against his breaking down his defenses.
He wanted this. More than he could admit, even to himself.
The taste of your lips, the feel of your body so close to his, it was overwhelming. He surrendered to the moment. All the reasons why this was a bad idea faded away, leaving only the undeniable truth that he wanted you, needed you, in that moment more than anything else.
You quickly pulled the brown t-shirt off from his body, hands instantly gliding down the skin. His muscles tensed under your touch, sending shivers through his body.
He stumbled to the living room, lips still together, throwing himself on the couch. You slid your white top off before sitting on his lap, his semi-hard cock that hid in his pants, pressing up against your clothed entrance in the best way, causing a delicious friction that made you both gasp.
He moved his fingers to unclasp your bra, the fabric falling away with ease. Finally, pulling away, his eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, he lent kisses to both your nipples, his mouth warm and wet against your sensitive skin. He then moved to suck and bite at the tender skin on your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake.
Your breath was ragged, hands in his hair, pulling his head closer, needing more of his touch.
“G-God.” You whimpered, furrowing your eyebrows from the pleasure.
The sensations were too much, each touch, each kiss sending waves of ecstasy through your body. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, a desperate plea for more, as you felt yourself getting lost in the intensity of the moment.
He could hardly keep up.
His head was spinning from the taste of you, from the way you felt in his arms. From the noises you were making as he gently bit around your chest, the soft whimpers and gasps that drove him wild. He was trying his best not to just rip the rest of your clothes off and fuck you on the couch like some sex toy. But he somehow managed to maintain a certain level of patience, his grip on control tenuous at best.
He pressed kisses up your neck, breathing hot air into your skin, each exhale sending shivers down your spine.
“I swear, you’re gonna be the damn death of me,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve, every line, as if trying to memorize the feel of you. The tension between you was electric, each touch, each kiss heightening the anticipation, the need for more.
You let out a breathy chuckle, body shuddering. You reached your hands in between both of your bodies, fingers working on unzipping his fly. When you finally got it, he lifted your body up, pants pushed down just above his knees.
His weeping tip grazed over your belly button, pre-cum rolling down onto his thighs, glistening in the dim light.
You stood up for a moment, easily taking your pants off, along with your panties, and throwing them on the coffee table. The grunt that left his mouth when you let your hole slide down his member made you feel like you were about to cum already.
He felt so good, stretching you perfectly, filling you in a way that made your toes curl.
You let yourself get adjusted, but you could tell, by the look on his face, and the way his hands bruised your hips, he wanted you to move. His eyes were dark with lust, breaths coming in ragged gasps. His grip on your hips was almost painful, but it only added to the intensity of the moment. The need in his eyes mirrored your own, a silent plea for you to give in, to let the pleasure take over.
He was trying so desperately to keep control. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to just let this happen. He was so firm on his decision to forget about whatever happened between you both. Then you came in here, and just turned his world upside down and now here he was, cock throbbing inside your tight cunt.
You began bouncing, hands gripping his shoulders for support.
“Christ,” he moaned, head nuzzling into your neck to plant kisses all over.
Your eyes focused on the bookshelf behind the couch, somehow reading every title of the books. Joel’s hand rested on the back of your neck, the other flat on your back.
“You’re doing so good, darlin’.”
“Joel….” you whined.
Jesus, what the hell were you doing? This isn’t forgetting; matter of fact, this is making it so much worse. But you couldn’t stop. No way in hell. You just kept riding, sweat starting to glisten off of your soft skin.
Joel noticed your bouncing and grinding getting sloppy, grasping your hips so he could help.
Your body completely gave out, so tired, but his cock hit your G-spot perfectly, making you moan in his ear as loud as you could.
“I got you, baby,” he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts.
His hands guided your movements, each thrust precise, driving you closer to the edge. The room was filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the overwhelming furosity of your connection.
Joel’s kisses became more urgent, trailing down your neck to your collarbone, each one leaving a burning imprint on your skin. His grip on your hips tightened, steadying you as he thrust deeper, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks as you tried to hold on to the last shreds of your sanity.
Every movement, every touch, was a testament to the unspoken emotions swirling between you. The room seemed to close in around you, the world outside fading into oblivion as you both lost yourselves in the moment. Your breaths synchronized, a dance of desperation and desire, building to an inevitable crescendo.
“Joel, please…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything you couldn’t say.
He responded with a growl, his pace quickening, pushing you both to the brink. The tension coiled inside you, tighter and tighter.
Until it snapped, your hips in sync with his as your orgasm washed over the both of you, the feeling of his warm cum inside of you making your heart pound. You start working on catching your breath as he pumps his cum into you, throwing his head back with strangled groans.
You kissed his jaw, slicking his damp hair back with your hand.
He looked so good like this.
You rested your head against his chest, finally catching your cool. Not a word was spoken by him, so you decided to speak up.
You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, a steady rhythm that mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.
“I don’t want to forget.”
You moved your head to look at him, your hand on the back of his head, forcing him to look back at you. His eyes, filled with a mix of exhaustion and raw emotion, met yours.
Joel’s hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone.
“I don’t either, sweetheart.” he finally whispered, his voice hoarse.
The vulnerability in his eyes was familiar, a mirror to your own. This wasn’t just physical; it was something deeper, something that neither of you could deny anymore.
The room felt smaller, more intimate, as if the walls themselves were bearing witness to this moment of truth.
You both knew that this was a turning point, a moment that would define whatever came next. Your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling him closer until your foreheads touched, breaths mingling in the space between you.
“Then let’s not,” you murmured, the words a promise and a plea.
Joel’s lips found yours in a kiss that was both tender and desperate, sealing the unspoken agreement. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving just the two of you, bound together by the intensity of your connection and the uncharted future that lay ahead.
“Okay.” he murmured.
#joel miller#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#the last of us#jackson joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#smut
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Sumeru’s Damsel In Distress Part 2
Yandere Alhaitham x reader, yandere Cyno x reader, yandere Kaveh x reader, yandere Tighnari x female reader (not separate)
Part 1
Finally finished part two!<3 I apologise for the wait, but something personal happened and I’ve also lacked motivation. Maybe there will be a part three? Maybe not. If you want me to write some scenarios regarding the four of them plus reader do send me a request/ask:)
Synopsis: It has been exactly two weeks since they drugged you and locked you up in the scribe and architect’s home. You still have a sliver of hope for escape.
Masterlist
Warnings: imprisonment, mention of lack of interest in food, obsession, possessiveness, Kaveh is surprisingly eerie
Word count: 1704
The skies outside the window was grey and it was clear that a storm was brimming. You sat at the kitchen table with a cup of orange juice in your hand. The condense on the cool glass making your palms wet. For once you were alone in the kitchen. They normally wouldn’t let you as they were scared you would harm yourself, but after convincing them you wouldn’t hurt yourself they let you be alone from time to time.
The bowl of yogurt in front of you was barely touched. You had lately had little appetite and the thought was of food almost made you sick. You had not told anyone of your captors, knowing that if you did you would stir great concern. Which was the last thing you wanted.
A lonely bird sat atop the tree in the garden and sang a lovely song. You watched as it stretched its little wings and you selfishly wished the two of you switched places.
You turned you attention back to the juice which had gone lukewarm in your hand. You took a sip and let the bittersweet taste fill your senses. It was good, but that was as expected. Cyno had bought it from a new stand in the city which specialised in juice.
The sound of the kitchen door opening snapped you out from your thoughts. You lifted your gaze and were met with red eyes.
“Good morning [Name]. Did you sleep well?” Kaveh greeted as he walked across the kitchen to the cupboards. “Also didn’t we tell you not to close the kitchen door when you are in here by yourself?”
“Sorry… I didn’t want to wake you” you adverted your eyes.
A hand ruffled your hair gently. “It’s okay sweetheart. Just remember it till next time, okay?” Kaveh smiled.
You nodded. “I will” you mumbled.
Kaveh took a seat besides you and looked out of the window. “A storm is coming, huh… Just my luck” he sighed. “I’m supposed to go to the building site of the project I’m working on, but if there’s gonna be a storm I will have to cancel” he groaned as he dragged a hand down his face in frustration.
The kitchen door swung open and in came three men. The fox smiled as his eyes met you. “Good morning [Name]” Tighnari smiled.
“Good morning” you greeted him back with a slight nod.
Cyno noticed your glass of juice and his lips turned up into a smile. “Was the taste to your liking?” he asked as he poured himself a glass.
“Yes. It’s very good” you took a sip.
“Did you sleep alright [Name]?” the tall grey haired man asked you as he prepared himself a portion of oatmeal.
You swallowed as you glanced out of the window. Sleep had been your only escape, but lately you had had horrible nightmares. Your eyes found his again and you pulled your lips back into a tight smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I did. What about you?”
Alhaitham remained silent for a while as he let his eyes rake over your expression. “Don’t lie to me. There is nothing you should have to hide from me, from us” gestured to the three other men as he shook his head. “And to answer your question, yes I did.”
A hand rested on your shoulder as soft hair tickled your hair as the one behind you leaned down, which startled you. “Why haven’t you finished your yogurt, darling?” Tighnari’s breath tickled your ear.
Fuck. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m just not that hungry…” you slightly shrugged.
He tcked. “That’s no good. You need to eat” he rose a hand and gently stroked your cheek. His skin was warm and comforting. “Should I make you something else?” his voice soft.
“No thank you” you turned your face so you could face him and smiled slightly. You hoped he would let it be.
He was silent for a few heartbeats before he nodded. “I understand” his voice was monotone and it was clear he took note of something.
As the dark haired man left you alone to make himself some breakfast, your eyes met Alhaitham’s calculating gaze. A shiver ran down your spine at the knowing smirk he sent you.
The rest of the day was rather uneventful. You had read some in the many books that adorned the little library in the aesthetically pleasing house. As the night crept closer and heavy rain hammered against the windows, Cyno had convinced you to play some Genius Invokation TCG with him.
You had only played the game a couple of times before this predicament. You had seen Cyno play at the tavern and it was safe to say he was way above your league. Even so he had made you play with him almost every day since you and been imprisoned within Alhaitham and Kaveh’s home. Which had been exactly two weeks today.
The white haired general shuffled the cards with precision. He gave you your cards before he picked up his own. You followed suit. You let your eyes quickly wander over your cards. Nothing good yet.
You rolled the dices and to your surprise you only got the elements you needed. Could today really be the day? You asked yourself as you laid down your card.
Cyno hummed at your move, clearly proud of your improvement. “Good move” he smiled as he placed his card down.
As the two of you continued playing, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift to escape plans. An escape would be nearly impossible, but not impossible (that’s at least what you told yourself). All your captors had extremely high intelligence and various skills that would give you a great disadvantage. The odds weren’t in your favour, not even a little bit, but you still didn’t want to give up.
Maybe you could drug them? That would require you to steal some of Tighnari’s medicine, which was a difficult task as he had hid them well. Plus you didn’t have the medical knowledge to make sedatives if he didn’t have pre-made ones hidden away.
You thought long and hard on your options and the sound of a cleared throat snapped you out of your little schemes.
“Can you explain why this was in your room?” Alhaitham’s voice loud and as sudden as lightning form a clear sky.
You turned your head towards him with shaky hands. You swallowed before you pressed on a small smile. “What do you mean?” you tried to sound unbothered, but one could here a slight shakiness from your voice.
“Why was this in your room?” in his big hand was a screwdriver. The pointy side pointed up towards the ceiling. Long fingers tightly gripped the red handle.
“I don’t know…” you gave an attempt at sounding confused, but judging by the scribes furrowed brows you were unsuccessful.
Cyno had gone completely still from his side of the table before he quickly stood up resulting the chair legs to drag across the floor creating an awful sound. With an blink of an eye he was besides the tall man. Tan fingers took the screwdriver and brought it closer to his flaming eyes. “This is Kaveh’s” his voice no different from what it usually was.
He gave Alhaitham the screwdriver before he stalked towards you. You remained seated in your seat. “Why was this in your room [Name]?” he crouched down so he appeared smaller than you. His eyes boring into yours trying to pry your mind apart.
You opened your mouth, but only a chocked sound escaped you. Your eyes shifted from Cyno to Alhaitham and then back.
“M- Maybe it got left in my room after you renovated it? Before all this” the last part was only a mere whisper, but Cyno had picked it up. He rose to his feet and folded his arms as he looked down at you with a stern expression.
A scoff followed by a chuckle could be heard from your right. “And do you really think we would be so careless?” Alhaitham was clearly amused by your attempt at explaining yourself.
The living room swung open and in stepped Kaveh and Tighnari. “Hi! We were thinking of playing some Uno woul- Is that my screwdriver?” Kaveh’s eyes feel to the tool in the grey head’s hand and to you. His jovial expression was changed to something cold and calculating. With quick steps he was besides Alhaitham. “I have been looking for this…” his voice low as he took the screwdriver in his hand.
Shivers ran down your spine at the blonde’s cold gaze. You gripped the hem of your dress. Your hands were really shaking now.
“What do the meaning of this?” Tighnari’s voice broke the silence. He moved from the door and to your left side. You could feel his eyes even with your face turned downwards.
“I found Kaveh’s screwdriver in her room. Which is weird if you ask me, given how she has no need for it nor is she allowed to handle such dangerous items.”
“[Name] are you trying to escape?” Kaveh asked you coldly. He was right besides you now. You could see it in his eyes that he was angry. The scribe stood behind him, but remained silent.
With a fast motion he gripped your chin and forced your head up. “After all we that have done for you?” his eyes were blown wide in fury and disappointment. “And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere…” he chuckled.
You gulped as ruby eyes stared you down. You tried to think of something to say, but you were at loss for words.
“Maybe we should reduce your privileges” the blond man’s voice were laced with hurt and frustration. He let go of your chin as he rose to his full height.
“I think that’s a good idea” the fox on your left nodded agreement.
You watched as Kaveh pocketed the screwdriver and you felt your heart sink. He eyed you before he turned on his heel and left the living room.
It would take some time to gain back their trust now.
#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere alhaitham#yandere alhaitham x reader#yandere cyno#yandere cyno x reader#yandere kaveh#yandere kaveh x reader#yandere tighnari#yandere tighnari x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#alhaitham x reader#cyno x reader#kaveh x reader#tighnari x reader#x reader#male yandere#yandere male#yandere male x reader
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Moodbooster
"Your boyfriend always manages to lift your mood, even on your period."
Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: slice of Life!AU, established relationship!AU, Fluff
Warnings: OC is on her period rip to her ✊🏻😔, she has cramps but yoongi boongie is there to rescue her, he is the bestest and sweetest and cutest boyfie ever <3
Wordcount: 806
a/n: a drabble by me that is actual drabble length? 😱 yeah i can't believe it either lmaoo. also, i'm still on my period and i miss yoongi so that's why this was born. enjoy besties, i miss him so much 🖤
Yoongi knows that you aren’t feeling well today. He has a sense for it. When you are having a bad day, Yoongi gets a heavy lump in his stomach. Not because of fear that you would snap at him, but because he can sense your unease. And when he senses it, he has to do everything in his power to at least lessen it a little bit.
You are locked up in one of the windowless sitting rooms because the summer sun can’t enter and therefore heat up the room.
Yoongi knocks, listening for your very grumbly “come in” before entering.
You are on the sofa in nothing but shorts, not bothering to cover your naked chest when he enters.
“Are you that hot?” he asks, brushing his eyes over your chest briefly.
You nod your head and groan.
“I hate having my period in summer. It feels like actual torture.”
“I hear you, princess”, Yoongi says, hurrying to you to sit next to you.
“I already feel like I’m boiling on normal period days, but summer period days feel like literal hell. If I could peel off my skin to cool off, I would.”
“This sucks a lot, my love.”
“Yeah and I sweat like a waterfall. I don’t know if my soaked pants are sweat or my pad leaking. Do you even know how nasty I smell?”
“No, you don’t. You smell good.”
“Thanks but also urgh. I have a cramp to make it even worse. And I want to eat six tons of sugar, I’m going insane.”
Yoongi hums in acknowledgement and lifts his hand to hover it over your stomach.
“Can I?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Yoongi places his hand down as flat as possible, giving your cramping stomach warmth this way. He rubs the smallest circles, applying the perfect amount of pressure.
“Wow, so warm”, you sigh happily, shivering from the touch.
“Does this help?”
“Yes, so much”, you gush, sounding a lot happier than before. You even speak in a softer voice.
“Then I’ll do that for a while.”
“Yes, thankies. Wow Boongie, you have the perfect hands. They’re like warm water bottles but better.”
He smiles at you. He doesn’t mind when you complain and therefore use a harsher voice, but he has to admit that he prefers your happy voice. You get a sort of soft-spokeness about it and only really use it when he pampers you just right. It makes Yoongi feel really soft and cozy as well because the atmosphere, you and he create in these moments, is always very calming. Maybe that is why he loves pampering you so much. Or maybe he loves it because he loves to see you happy.
You huff out air.
“Sorry for ranting.”
“Don’t apologise, princess. That’s what I’m here for. That and tummy rubs”, he says, giving your stomach a little rub.
You giggle. Yoongi soaks up the sound until it is burned into his memories.
“I love your tummy rubs so much”, you say and shift a little, “I think they’re working too well though. I literally just felt it come out of me.”
“Wonderful”, Yoongi says, pulling a face of comradery disgust.
“I think I need to go change.”
“Alright. Do you still have enough? I can pop down to the store if you need more.”
You stop in the doorway, “really?”
“Of course, princess.”
“And you…could get snacks too?”
“Anything you need.”
“Even everything sweet ever?”
“Of course.”
You lower your eyes shyly, “then maybe I need more. The strongest ones and the ones for sleep. The really thick ones.”
Yoongi gets up, closing the distance to you.
“Understood”, he pecks your cheek, rubbing your tummy one last time, “text me if you think of anything else.”
“I will. Thank you so much, Boongie.”
“Anytime, love.”
Yoongi manages to go as far as one step out of the room before you pull him back by his hand. He turns with a fond and curious look in his pretty eyes.
“Yes, princess?”
You lean in for a kiss to his lips, eliciting a purr from him. He smiles, rubbing your lower back.
“That was nice”, he whispers.
“It’s a kiss full of love.”
“Mhm.” He pecks you. “I love you too, my princess.”
You step back, “okay, you can leave now. Sorry for keeping you.”
“Don’t apologise. You can always keep me if that’s how you do it”, he flirts, giving you a playful little grin before he turns to really leave.
And while Yoongi leaves to fulfill your wishes, you waddle to the toilet to change. Seriously, if you didn’t have such an amazing boyfriend by your side, this period would suck. With him, it only sucks when he isn’t here. Once he is back from the store, you will give him the biggest smooch ever.
#yoongi fluff#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfiction#yoongi drabble#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#bts fluff#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts drabble#bts x reader#bts x you#bangtan fluff#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fanfiction#bangtan drabble#bangtan x reader#bangtan x you
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Not much but a romantic Sebastian and a burnt out gn reader who enters his shop to get some well deserved rest?
Burnt out! reader with Sebastian
A little rest won't hurt...
— I verbally went "ooo" at this request, also apologies for taking so long(This applies to future requests)
Warnings: Possibly touch starved Reader and Sebastian; Reader acts alcohol drunk(Sorry I don't mean to bring up trauma😓) but is actually sleep drunk; Accidently flirty Reader; Very vivid descriptions, I just think it makes it kinda 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 so that's why I'm warning you; 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 mentions but nothing 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 happens; Flustered Sebastian ooo
Door, after door, after door, after door, you’re tired of this unending loop. The only good thing about this is that incredible shop and its owner.
God, what was his name again?
Sabers?
No that’s not it.
Uhhh.
Dang.
You can’t even think right! When’s the last time you forgot a name?
… You can’t remember that either, okay.
You’re limping through the halls, senses on point, well minus your sight. Your tired eyelids keep on dropping down or hanging.
You want to take a rest soooo baddd.
But you can’t. Not with Urbanshade watching you.
Not with Pinkie or Pandemonium.
Hate it.
Hate this place.
YOU hate this place.
Well accept for Sebastian since this place is the only reason he’s down here.
Just make it to Sebastian and you’ll be fine. Shove through the doors that won’t open or groan whenever you need a keycard.
Fight through the pain!
Well that’s pretty hard mentally.
And your mental state isn’t doing very well.
Ughhhh JUST GO THROUGH THE DOORS.
Sorry I didn’t mean to yell.
I’m just second personing your thoughts.
Actually my thoughts on what your thoughts are. Because I don’t actually know your thoughts. So yeah.
Oh god finally, door 48. You speed walk over to the next door, apparently not noticing Chainsmoker behind you.
.
.
.
“Woowww, you reallyyy saw that one. Y’know I–” He stops talking when he looks at your state.
You’re looking down with your spine stretching till it pops out of your body. Your extremely tired eyes are barely even focusing, just waiting for that document to pop up.
Your body creates low and shallow breaths.
You look like you’re going to pass out.
“Oh uhhm… You alright?” Sebastian asks, with concern rolling around on his face.
Upon hearing his voice, you look up with excitement and expectation. Only being able to see two of his pastel blue eyes.
You try to speak but can’t, you’re dead remember?
Sebastian sees your attempt and sighs.
“Look, I know it’s hard out there but–” He pulls out his claw in front of you.
Seeing that as a, “Take my hand friend” Gesture, you take it. You seem touch starved with the way you quickly grasped onto his claw.
Using your two hands to grab his claw, breathing hard.
You wish you could feel his fingers.
In your hand of course.
Freakanator 3000.
But after a few seconds of silence and hand holding, you’re suddenly brought down to go see the document.
You didn’t even do that!
Did Sebastian do that?!
Could that have happened this whole time?
Then why did it happen now?!
Groaning in your head, you were motivated to see Sebastian and just maybe rest.
You were contemplating on whether you should keep going so you can find that dumb crystal and get out of here or for Sebastian. Meanwhile, he sat, surprised at the touch.
Maybe wanting some more?
From you specifically?
Just maybe?
You rushed through doors after ‘respawning’, even skipping some doors after hearing the entities behind you.
You perfectly nailed down the ways to survive the monsters, getting more and more excited as you get closer to Sebastian’s shop.
The adrenaline rushed through your body as you nearly broke down a few doors.
I thought those were bulletproof?
Slowing down your running, you nearly tripped upon seeing the room that Sebastian would be located in. Letting out big breaths that were loud enough to hear through your head gear.
Sometimes you let out a few guhs and coughs.
It was that bad.
You could drink your own sweat and that’ll help.
Your hands were on your knees, your legs shaking and sweat drops dripping onto your visor while you were looking down.
“Oh man, I can hear you from here. Take a break, yeah?” Sebastian commented, trying to not give you clues that he’s worried about you.
Saliva recollects in your mouth as you look back up at the vent. Your legs carry you over even if it hurts.
Getting out of the vent, you saw Sebastian and tried to smile.
“Ooo… You alright?” His question seemed genuinely curious.
You nod, crawling over to a spot and shutting your eyes.
Sebastian stays silent as he thinks that you fell asleep.
Your body collects its strength, your organs pumping correctly, the only thing that your brain needs now is sleep.
Yeah, the ONE thing that’s hard to get. Currently.
Your swaying right foot indicates that you’re awake, so Sebastian questions you on it.
“Oh you’re awake? I thought you passed out-”
“Offf course I’m awakee..!! How could I– Fall asleepp with a gooddd looking fella like youuu”??
Now that got him to pay full attention to you(Not like he wasn’t before).
“Are.. Are you drunk”?
‘Didn’t know prisoners could drink down here.’ He thought.
“Drunk on your lookss? Yeahhh. Youu look.. Soooooo HOT”!
Sebastian looks away to his left, mouth scrunched making it look like he’s disgusted. But he’s not! Because in this fanfic he actually likes you back.
He’d be flushing with red if he was warm blooded.
You could tell with the way his fingers are fidgeting with each other. He attempts to pin back his side bang only for it to fall again.
He lets out a groan.
Changing your resting position, you stand up, walking over to Sebastian.
“I could pin your hair back for you. Hic up, baby. Ooo I’m so sleepy I’m hiccuping”.
“HAUH”?!?
“Oh sorry did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to I’m- hic up sorry”.
“It’s uhm. No. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, it's just that you’re so”..
“Bold? Yeah. I get like this when I’m sleep drunk”.
Oh so you’re aware you act like this?
“Y- Yea.. Bold”.
You stumble over to Sebastian, eyeing his tail. Looking back up at him, you point at his scales.
“Can I touch”?
“Yeah sure”.
Dropping down onto your knees you feel along his hard yet smooth scutes.
“I wish I could.. Actually feel your uhh, scales”.
“Hm”.
“But I can’t :(”
“Awh what a bummer.” He playfully teases.
After feeling up his tail some more, you ask him—
“What does it feel like”?
“My tail”?
“Yeah dum dum.” You chuckle at the slightly insulting nickname.
“Oh well now I won’t tell you because of your insult”.
“Nooooo, breathy chuckle, I was chokinggg… Wait no.. I was jokinggg”.
Sebastian stifles a laugh with his hand, his torso lightly shaking.
“Alright alright. My tail is pretty cold, it’s like smooth in a more slimy way. Yet there’s no slime. It’s kinda weird but I’m used to it”.
“Ooo, slimy tail. So if I take my hands off your tail I’ll get slime on my glove”?
“No, I just said that it’s smooth in a slimy sense yet there’s no slime”.
“... Sebastian, that makes no sense.” You said sternly.
“... Shut up”.
Eventually, you end up falling asleep on his tail. Drooling in your head gear, making a pool of it at the bottom.
Seeing you unconscious yet alive brings comfort to Sebastian. You’re still here, just not awake. Alive.
He’s never really thought about wanting a human alive before.
I don't mean to make Sebastian seem like this shy 'baby', I just think he'd get all blushy and nervous at bold romantic actions.
#pressure#roblox pressure#pressure roblox#pressure x reader#roblox x reader#sebastian solace#sebastian solace x reader#sebastian solace x gender neutral reader#sebastian solace x gn reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#x reader#burnt out reader#x burnt out reader
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 28] Sleepless Night
← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
*So close to the end🥹 it's been a wild ride
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
“I’m sleepy.” Satoru mutters before throwing himself on your bed. He does so without your permission, wearing his dirty clothes on your clean bed. Not to mention that he’s sweaty, after all, he’s helping you pack all of your stuff before helping you move to the house that he bought you.
“Yeah, go to the couch.” You tell him, and if you had enough strength to pick him up and throw him on the couch you would. But Satoru is too big for you to pick up and carry. He ignores you and you whine, “Satoru, you’re getting my bed dirty!”
“I won’t fit in Ren’s bed.” He responds, and you sigh.
“Yeah, that’s why you’re sleeping on the couch after you take a shower.” You say, and he finally stands up. He walks to your shower, and practically slams the door behind him which makes you roll your eyes. He makes himself feel at home with no issue… Which you consider fair since his mother does own the place.
You won’t pay much attention to Satoru either way. It’s like he’s your boyfriend all over again, except you aren’t physical with each other. And you’re also not all too sure that you want to call Satoru your boyfriend ever again; you’d prefer to keep him as a friend, and of course, as the father of your son.
“Don’t use up all of my shampoo!” You yell, knowing that Satoru comes out extra fragrant when he showers in your bathroom. He uses all of your good products and doesn’t bother replacing the empty bottles.
You can only hope that he’s heard your words before you decide to change into your pajamas and lay down in your bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow, you need as much rest as you can get. There’s a knock on your door as soon as you lay down on your bed, and you take a deep breath before answering, “Come in, Ren!”
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” The child asks as soon as he enters the room. You try to hold back a sigh, knowing that you won’t sleep as well with Ren constantly kicking you and moving around but you can’t bring yourself to say no to him.
“Come here, baby.” You pat the space next to you, and he comes running to lay down beside you. You tuck him in before wrapping your arm around him, bringing him closer to you. Maybe you’re partially at fault for all the kicking and moving since you hold him so close. “Don’t snore, okay?”
“I don’t snore!” He quickly yells, and you chuckle before kissing his cheek. He snuggles into you, and you nuzzle your nose into his hair.
“Hey, you ran out of body wash.” Satoru walks out of your bathroom, having enough common sense to have put on a robe. His eyes land on you and Ren as you cuddle, a smile coming to his lips. He walks out, looking for the clothes that he hides in your place for this occasion.
“Save some space for me!” He yells when he’s into his pajamas, running to the bed to join you. He completely disregards that he was ordered to sleep on the couch. His giant arm wraps over the two of you, bringing you close to him.
“Didn’t I tell you to go to the couch?” You laugh, but you can’t bring yourself to kick him out. It’s comfortable like this. “Ren’s bed is empty too, you can try there.”
“Daddy won’t fit there.” Ren points out, and you almost want to scold him for saying it. Satoru agrees, and you chuckle, rolling your eyes.
“Fine, but you better not snore either.” You say, and Satoru has a mischievous look on his face. He’s about to say something that’s going to annoy you, but at least get a laugh out of Ren.
“Out of the three of us, you’re the only one that snores.” Satoru earns a slap on his ear for that joke. He’s slept with you many times, it’s certainly not a joke. “I was joking!”
“Yeah… Nobody laughed.” You respond, and he chuckles. Satoru is about to speak, but he gets the first word out and Ren shushes him.
“I’m trying to sleep!” Ren complains.
“Sorry, baby.” You kiss the top of his head, and you feel Ren throw his small arm over you. There’s a smile on your lips before you drift off to sleep.
You wake up in the middle of the night, nearly falling off the bed even though it’s large enough for three people. It’s no surprise to you that Ren takes up the entire bed, what surprises you is that Satoru isn’t in bed. You should leave it alone, reclaim your spot on the bed and go back to sleep.
But you don’t leave it alone, you get up from the bed and search for him. You walk out of the room, and spot the kitchen light on. You take a deep breath before beginning to walk over to it. Satoru is making himself a cup of tea, which you can only assume is to help with sleeping.
“What’s up with you?” You startle him, his hand going over to his heart. Though the scare has gone away, it continues to beat fast.
“Can’t sleep.” He keeps the answer vague since he doubts you really want to hear what’s on his mind… Well perhaps he should tell you what’s on his mind.
“Why is that?” You ask him. You would assume that he would sleep comfortably with Ren by his side, but something’s off with him. Perhaps it’s because you’re in the room as well. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
“It’s not that. I’ve just been thinking about…” He begins, and he takes a deep breath before voicing his thoughts. “Everything I did to you.”
“Oh…” You’re taken back by the response. It was something that kept you up at night before, but you’ve grown to not care. You can’t undo Satoru’s actions, and you’re convinced that in the end you were better off than him– At least in some ways. Not monetarily for sure, but you had Ren with you. “What’s done is done, there’s no point in losing sleep over it.”
“I wish I did things differently.” He confesses, which is nice to hear. “I was an idiot, and I chose money over someone that I’ve loved all of my life. Even if Ren wasn’t involved, I should’ve chosen you.”
“Yeah… I was kind of used to it.” You chuckle, and it makes a frown appear on his face. It’s not a lie, he shouldn’t be shocked to hear those words leave your lips. “I’ve realized that you were young… Easy to manipulate especially after just losing your father. I’m not thrilled that you did what you did but don’t beat yourself up about it.”
He’s surprised with what you say, biting his lip as he thinks of what to say. Processing all of what you’ve said. It’s true, but he feels like he could’ve handled the situation better, sure, he was young but he wasn’t a child. He clears his throat before saying, “You aren’t wrong but… I could have handled things much differently.”
“You could have, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.” You respond. “You stepped up when you got the chance, which is what matters.”
“I’m still really sorry for everything.” He says, and you hum in response. “You’ve always been someone very dear to me, and I’ve always treated you as my secondary choice. You’re the most– Until Ren you were the most important person to me, and even then I’ve disregarded you as if you weren’t.”
“It hurts to be in my place, but I also understand, Satoru. I grew up with you, you’ve always been made to believe that money and power is everything, and every issue that you had was solved with money,” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I can’t blame you, but I’ve also been hurt by your decisions.”
“You’ve always been the mature one out of the two of us… Even when I’m an old man, I act like a child.” He chuckles, and you laugh as well before humming in agreement.
“Even when you act like a child, you’re a great father to our son.” You point out, hoping that it’ll make him feel better. “Your parents loved you a lot but… They weren’t all that great.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” He responds. He’s smiling, hearing about how you view him as a father. He isn’t perfect, but he’s trying to be the best he can be for Ren. Disciplining him and not spoiling him too much (unless it’s a situation that calls for spoiling his son).
“Would you consider having another?” He suddenly asks, and your eyes go wide. You stand in awkward silence for a moment before you begin to laugh.
“Why are you asking? Shouldn’t you be asking me if I would even consider going on a date with you again?” You reply and he feels as his cheeks turn pink. “I was just kicking you out of my bed and here you are, asking me if I’d have another child.”
“Would you consider going on a date with me?” He’s smiling. You have to look away because your feelings for him come back in a heartbeat. Satoru made his decision a long time ago, you shouldn’t. But he’s also changed so much recently, that you want to see where fate leads you.
He notes your silence. It’s late, and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you with that sort of question. He ends up saying, “You don’t have to answer that.”
“Yeah, I’m not answering that.” You respond. “How about we go to bed?”
“Okay… But would you consider going back to get your degree or do you not want to do that anymore?” He changes his question. “I’ll be supporting you all the time.”
“You know you sound just like your dad.” You point out, and he remembers that his dad did make a similar offer. “He offered to pay for my education but I dumbly turned him down. I sure regretted it when I found out I was pregnant and you weren’t picking up the phone.”
“Yeah, he told me.” He shares. “But I’m actually making up for it since I took away that opportunity from you.
“I’ll consider it. I’m not sure if that’s what I want to do anymore.” You tell him, and he gives you a subtle nod. “Is the offer still on the table if I want to just pursue degree after degree.”
“Knock yourself out, I have enough money for every degree– I’ll just be praying for you with all the assignments you have to complete.”
“Okay.” You have much to think about, and you know your ultimate decision. He yawns, the late night remedy working– Ultimately passing the sleepless night torch to you after his offer.
“Let’s go to bed, Ren is going to wake up in three hours and we can’t greet him all tired.” Satoru tells you, putting the cup of tea in your sink. You roll your eyes, knowing that you won’t be able to sleep because of him.
A great idea comes to your mind, fighting back a smirk as you both walk to the bedroom. Before going inside you tell him, “Ren with a baby sister would look cute. I just have to find the right candidate.”
“Huh?” He nearly drops to his knees with your last sentence. Did you seriously just say that in front of him? “I’m right here!”
“Shush! Ren is sleeping, don’t wake him up.” You scold him before entering the bedroom with a smirk on your face. He stays behind, dumbfounded with what you just said.
#[changes]#gojo saturo#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x you#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk gojo#gojo angst#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo fanfic
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𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘 — one: you slept with who?
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. lee heeseung x fem!reader, park sunghoon x fem!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲. Y/N always knew that her high school was dominated by wealth and privilege. Upon having a one night stand with with popular athlete Lee Heeseung, she uncovers that Heeseung's friend group controls not only social dynamics but also school policies and local affairs, revealing a hidden world of power and manipulation behind their so called perfectly polished exteriors
masterlist | next
You woke up groaning, hand on your head as you try to make sense of what was around you.
Your head was absolutely killing you, and the mess around your room was not making things any better.
“Geez,” you whisper underneath your breath as you try to pick up some of the clothes that were on the floor, only to realize—wait—these aren’t your clothes.
You quickly turn around, eyes bulging out of their sockets when you realize Lee Heeseung is sleeping in your bed. And not just sleeping, but his clothes were discarded all over your floor.
What happened last night?
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
His voice makes you flinch back, and he raises his hands in surrender, not knowing you’d react so sensitively.
“Sorry.” He mumbles, before leaning over to check his phone on your nightstand. “Shit shit shit.”
“Do you remember what the hell happened last night?” You asked, rubbing your forehead to try and ease the pain.
“Well—Dani threw a party, and I was going for a drink refill when I bumped into you. You were pretty bummed out I guess, something about how the scholarship money wasn’t cutting it so I thought I’d show you a good time.”
He’s scrolling through his phone now, eyes widening at the amount of messages his group chat had sent last night.
Lee Heeseung, where are you?
Did your idiot ass hop the fence again? You know the neighbors don’t like you face planted on their front lawn.
You know what? Don’t even come to the breakfast at Wonyoung’s tomorrow. You’ll probably be too hungover ㅋㅋ
“Oh..” you say, knowing full well why there were clothes all over the floor now.
Heeseung seems to not care, more focused on whatever was on his phone than the complete stranger he just had sex with the other night.
“Hanni’s gonna kill me,” he groans, standing up to grab his discarded sweatpants.
“Hanni Pham? Are you guys exclusive or something because I swear I didn’t know—”
“No, we’re not.” Heeseung quickly shakes his head. “She’s just a close friend, she’s very serious about me being punctual.”
You knew Hanni. Her and Danielle were both from Australia, and on the Decelis Cheer Squad, which intimidated the shit out of you.
Hanni and Danielle were filthy rich, hell, Heeseung himself was filthy rich. Their entire friend group screamed upper high class.
“I’m gonna go,” Heeseung motions towards the door. “Promise you won’t say anything to anyone?”
“I promise.” You say.
“Thanks, you’re the best!”
He leaves without saying anything else, making you frown.
While this was your first time hooking up with someone, this must’ve been Heeseung’s hundredth.
He made it so casual that it almost has you wondering if he sees you as anything at all.
TAGLIST (closed) @cupidhoons @lilyuwon @soobeboobe @immelissaaa @coqhee @shuichi-sama @ssukiyakii @deobitifull @sunpov @anittamaxwynnn @minjaexvz @katarinamae @capri-cuntz @jooniesbears-blog @sakanelli-afc
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#enhypen fluff#enhypen texts#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen scenarios#enhypen socmed au#enhypen social au#enhypen smau#enhypen smut#enhypen social media au#enhypen fake texts#enhypen ff#heeseung imagines#heeseung x yn#heeseung x you#heeseung x reader#heeseung scenarios#heeseung smau#heeseung smut
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Platonic
part 6
summary: When Lando's "playboy" image is setting a bad reputation for him. He turns to the person the trust most in this world for help.
pairing: landonorris x bestfriend!reader
warnings: none
part 5
AN: Before we start I do want to say that I’m sorry for how this story has turned out, I’m lowkey hating it but i will come back with a better story soon. If anyone has any longer stories they would like to see, then please leave it in my submissions box, in my comments and/or feel free to message me privately. I also apologies about the wait for this. Sorry guys and thank you.
--
Lando had woken first, the light of the early morning sun filtered through the curtains. He stretched over you, smiling to see you still asleep against him.
He kissed your head before sneaking out of bed, this was the first morning in a while that Lando woke up feeling refreshed and confident for the race, he was also early, early enough to make you breakfast.
He reached for the t-shirt that lay on the floor beside him before trotting his way to the kitchen. He began by making you both coffee before moving onto toast.
"Good morning" you said with a smiles, your voice still rough from just waking up "Well hello there princess, what woke you up?" he asks holding your hand that wrapped around his waist from behind
"The beautiful smell of coffee, and the cold bed. You're up early is everything okay?" you question, resting your head on his back "I'm feeling so good, about today, I got the best sleep last night, we've got so much time before we need to leave too" he smiles buttering your toast and sticking it in your mouth
You smile, taking it out your mouth “I’m glad” you say chewing covering a hand over your mouth “Are Max and Pietra awake?”
“I don’t think so” he smiles leaning down to kiss you
Neither you or Lando had mentioned all the kisses throughout the weekend, the ones in public and in private, but you were both enjoying whatever was going on.
“So today, I was thinking of wearing my new white summer dress, what do you think?” you tell him, sitting on the chair next to him “The one that you ordered last week?”
“Yeah”
“That’s nice, I like that” he nods pulling your legs up on top of his
--
Lando had decided to match your all white outfit today, he held your hand tightly entering the paddock, pulling you closer to him as people rushed by.
You could sense the rise of Lando's nerves, in attempt you comfort him you put your free hand on his bicep
"How are you feeling today Mr Pole Sitter?" Ted Kravitz asks walking up to you both with the camera crew in front of you "Feeling good, hopefully can perform well enough to get the win, got a lot of support here so it would be good to put a smile on peoples faces”
“And you’ve also got that support of your lovely best friend too” he nods and you and you smile at him “Yeah I love having my girlfriend at races with me, she’s my biggest supporter so”
“Oh i’m sorry i didn’t realise that you were finally in a relationship” he apologises “congratulations to you both”
You both thank him before heading into the McLaren garage, stopping to say hello to everyone
"I'm glad to see you here, I've missed you the full weekend" Will smiles opening his arms "Glad to see you too" you hug him "Stealing my girlfriend now are we?" Lando jokes wrapping an arm around your waist
"Wouldn't dream of breaking you two up, feeling good about today?" he asks Lando "Good aren't you" you answer before Lando says something negative "Yep all good" he rolls his eyes "Hey! I'm going to the bathroom, make sure I've not got moody Lando" you kiss him before leaving him with Will
"You're kissing now" Will smirks "I mean, yeah" Lando shrugs "There's no cameras about" the engineer pushes "We've actually had a few kisses back home" Lando says hiding a smile
"Well it's been a long time coming, just make sure your heads in the game today. I'm happy for you though" he pats Lando's shoulder "Trust me, that girl is the reason I'm feeling even the littlest bit confident today"
"Really?" Will asks turning to face him "Well yeah, she's the only one that really understands me. I just love her so much" he blushes
"So you're in love with her"
"What? No I'm not?" Lando scoffs "The way you talk about her is the way I first talked about my wife, now we have a child together. You need to realise how you feel about her without people telling you"
"And if I admitted I was in love with her?"
"Then you should tell her, the way she looks at you is the way Hayley looked at me. Get yourself ready mate"
Lando sighed, looking at Will one last time before heading to his drivers room where you were sat "Hi pretty boy, I've left your shirt out, your hats there too" you point to his chair
"Thank you, are you going to chill in here until the race?" he asks taking his shirt off "Yeah, I'm going to wait on Max and Pietra. I'll be watching"
"Good, I'll see you later. Let me know if you're going anywhere" he says leaning down "I will" you lean up to kiss him "Bye" he shouts leaving the room
-
As it got closer to lights out Lando walked around the garage talking to everyone he needed to, he sat with Will for a while before he needed to get into the car.
As he approached you, you knew what was coming. The dreaded moment you had before every single race.
“Be safe, I love you” you tell him, wrapping your arm around his waist “I promise I will. I love you too” he says holding out his pinky finger. You link yours with his and both of you kiss your hands.
He hugs you tightly, kissing your head before moving down to your lips.
“Come home”
“I always do” he winks before getting in the car
It never got any easier, it hadn’t since he first started in 2019. Watching him leave the garage not knowing what where he was going to finish after the race and your worst fear it he didn’t finish at all.
Max stood beside you, putting on a headset, in a selfish way you were glad he wasn’t racing anymore, it means you didn’t have to worry about two people, but you knew Max wished he continued, he could have made it to Formula 1.
“He’ll win” Max wraps an arm around your shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly “I know” you smile
“I just wish he knew that” he nods to Lando’s car on the screen “He’ll see what we see one day”
The race was tense, within the first lap six cars had locked up and people were losing positions. The upside to it was Lando keeping his place and Oscar moving up to P2, getting out of the mess without harm.
You could feel your heart beating against your chest, fighting to leave your body as the last lap of the race came closer.
Two laps to go.
He was seconds ahead of the cars behind him.
One lap to go.
The crew ran across to the pit wall, as Lando approached the final corner, as he crossed the line you could hear him screaming down the head set.
Your eyes filled up with tears, you turned to Max as he engulfed you in a hug jumping up and down.
As he came down the pit lane, you threw your head set off, pushing through the crowd of papaya to the front where Zak was.
He stood on the top of the car, throwing his hands in the air while everyone around you cheered. He took his helmet off running and jumping into the crowd of McLaren and eventually he was pulled to the other side of the barrier
“Where is she?” you saw Lando looking around, when he spotted you, he lifted you up hugging you tightly “I’m so proud of you Lando, you don’t know it”
“You’re the best, I love you, I love you so much”
“It was you that did it baby, get on the podium and get drenched in champagne”
He leans down kissing you before jumping over the barrier again. You let the nickname slip, you didn’t mean to say it but the way it made you feel was so good, it felt as if it was normal.
The media covered up how Lando felt about it, the way he was yapping in his interviews when the only thing he could think about was you and the nickname. “Baby” he wishes he could get used to that.
part 7
TAGS
@harrysdimple05 @ironmaiden1313 @charli123456789 @alltoomaples @jule239 @panicsinvirgo @cmleitora @blueberry64857959 @imboredway2much @landoslutmeout @obxstiles @morenofilm @formula1mount @dreamercrowd @brekkers-whore @sialexia @bokutos-babyowl @merchelsea @lexiecamposv @lunamelona @nightlockcornucopia
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando norris x reader#landonorris x bestfriend!reader#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 2024#formula 1#f1 fic#mclaren f1#mclaren#mclaren racing#alex albon#lando norris x best friend#platonic#charles leclerc#daniel ricciardo#fluff#lewis hamilton#ln4 imagine#logan sargeant#oscar piastri#pierre gasly#ln4 x reader
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Safety First
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you get kidnapped, and the boys have to find a way to find you
Warnings: hurt feelings, reader gets drugged, kidnapped, and injured (slightly). Panic attack, angst with a happy ending
“Dean.” Your voice was thick with sleep as the Impala approached a bar late at night. “Why aren’t we going to the motel?”
“I want to stop in here first,” Dean grumbled. The day of driving had worn him down, and he’d been a bit grumpy for the past few hours. “Maybe we’ll find someone who saw something.”
“It’s late,” you complained. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? I mean, we already know that it’s probably vampires.”
“I’m not gonna take a chance on that just so you can go to sleep,” Dean snapped. “We can’t ever afford to be stupid with this job, you know that. Stay in the car if you want.”
And Dean was out of the car before Sam could tell him off for being a jerk.
“He’s just tired,” Sam offered lamely. “Why don’t you come in and get a soda or something, this shouldn’t take long,” he added, but he didn’t wait for a response as he followed Dean into the bar.
You swallowed a few times to try to lessen the lump in your throat as you climbed out of the car. You wrapped your arms around yourself as the cold air bit into your skin, cursing yourself for even opening your mouth. How could you be selfish like that when people were dying? Hadn’t dad and Dean always told you the hunt came first, especially when innocent people were in danger?
“We can’t ever afford to be stupid with this job.”
Dean was right—you were stupid, and now Dean thought you cared more about sleep than about being safe for the hunt.
You shuffled your way into the bar, trying to keep yourself from crying while also trying to convince yourself that Dean was just grumpy, and he would forget about your complaining before the night was even out. You didn’t want him to think that you were selfish or stupid.
You almost didn’t noticed when you entered the bar, except for the fact that you smacked face-first into someone’s chest.
“S-sorry,” you muttered, feeling worse than ever as you tried to squeeze around the poor person that you had just barreled into.
“No problem,” a honey-sweet voice tickled your ears as a kind face came into your view. A dark-haired man with a smile just as sweet as his voice was looking down at you. “I like your shirt,” he added.
“Oh…thanks,” you said, the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, your gloomy mood lifting just a little. It was your favorite shirt, and any compliment right now helped your low spirits.
“You look like you’re having a rough night. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Oh, um…” your senses were suddenly raised. Who was this guy, and what did he want? You were obviously underage, so why…
“A soda,” he added quickly, sensing your unease. “I’m sorry, I must seem like kind of a creeper, it’s just…it’s not very common to see a kid in here—in fact, I’m surprised you got let in—and I want to make sure you’re ok. Are you…ok?”
You felt yourself relaxing just a bit—this was just a nice stranger concerned about a kid in a bar. Maybe your hunter’s sense wasn’t as good as you thought, and you’d just been nervous for nothing.
“I’m ok. My brothers are…around here somewhere. But I’d love a soda.”
“Great!” The man led you through the crowd of drunk adults and to a barstool. “A soda and a beer, please,” he said to the bartender, who glanced at you for a long moment before turning to get the drinks.
The dark haired man passed you your drink when the bartender placed it in front of him, and once you had it you found suddenly that you didn’t know what to do or say. You didn’t know anything about this guy, and you couldn’t really tell him anything about you, so what were you supposed to say? You took a long sip of your drink, trying to make the silence seem comfortable.
“Do your brothers take you to bars often?” The man asked, a hint of humor in his voice trying to mask obvious concern.
“Only when we go somewhere new,” you said, trying not to lie but also trying not to alarm the man. “I guess they think it’s a good way to meet new people.” You took another long sip, hoping that the man wouldn’t start to ask any hard questions. You didn’t want to lie to this kind stranger.
But he didn’t ask any more questions—which was good, because your exhaustion seemed to be catching up to you again. You found yourself struggling to lift your eyelids, and after a few unintentionally long blinks you began to look around for your brothers. You spotted Dean in a corner, and you were about to slide off your seat and go to him when you remembered what he’d said.
“I’m not gonna take a chance on that just so you can go to sleep.”
You would just have to force yourself to stay awake…
But for some reason, you couldn’t, and the harder you tried the more you felt your whole body starting to sag, drooping down like a melting ice cream cone.
Hands suddenly caught you under your arms as you slipped off your chair, and you vaguely registered that it was the dark haired stranger. You tried to speak, but your mouth was just too numb—it felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls, and even though you got your jaw to open, you couldn’t force any sound out.
Between sleepy blinks, your eyes found those of the dark haired man. You couldn’t quite tell because of the fog in your mind, but as you finally lost your grip on consciousness you could swear that the eyes that met yours were pitch black…
…
“Sam.” Sam turned to see his older brother behind him, glancing around the bar. “It’s time to go. Where’s Y/N?”
“She came in right behind me, I thought she went to find you,” Sam offered as he joined Dean in the glancing search.
“What? No I thought she was with you,” Dean replied, looking suddenly more panicked.
“Alright, I’ll check this half, you look over there,” Sam said, trying to ebb his rising fear.
Twenty minutes later, they still couldn’t find you. Sam had even sent some woman into the women’s bathroom to look for you, with no results. Dean got the same lack of you when he went to search the Impala.
“Do you think she ran off?” Dean voiced the concern that had been nagging his mind since the moment he couldn’t find you. “I…I didn’t mean to snap at her like that, really.”
“She wouldn’t have left because of that,” Sam assured him, having thought of the same thing. “You hurt her, I do know that, but she wouldn’t have run.”
Dean cringed at Sam’s words.
“I really screwed up, didn’t I?”
“Kind of,” Sam sighed. “You can apologize if we find her.”
“When we find her,” Dean corrected harshly, hoping that he was right.
…
Pain pounded behind your eyes before you even opened them. Once you did lift your eyelids, it took you several long, panicky seconds before you could even tell the difference between opened and closed.
It was nearly pitch black around you, with only vague shapes making themselves known in the darkness. The floor was rough and scratchy beneath you, and it was cold to the touch when you put your hands down to push yourself up. You only made it halfway to your feet before an unexpected force biting into your wrist held you down, and the shock of it dropped you back to your knees. The rattle of chains accompanied your fall.
“Hello?” Your voice echoed off stone walls, tinny and weak. No reply came.
You tugged at the chain on your wrist, and found that it only allowed about a couple feet of clearance, which was why you could barely stand with it attached to the floor.
The weight of your situation hit you at the same time as your memory…
The man—the demon!—from the bar. He must’ve slipped something into your drink, and now who knew where you were?
“Help!” You cried out between your sudden panicked gasps of breath. You rubbed at your chest as it began to tighten in fear. “Somebody help me, please!”
Your voice bounced uselessly off the walls, your own desperation mocking you as it reverberated back to your ears.
A harsh scraping preceded a sudden burst of light as a door you hadn’t been able to see against the far wall started to open.
“She’s awake!” The kind voice didn’t sound so kind anymore, and the gentle features were twisted into a sickening smirk. “And how is our little visitor?” The dark haired demon stepped into your cell, and the light pouring in through the open door allowed you to see his raven black eyes.
“Where am I?” You demanded. “What do you want?”
“Both of those questions are on a need to know basis, and you don’t,” the man responded, chuckling cruelly.
“It’s not gonna work,” you insisted. “It-it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, because my brothers—“
The stinging pain of a strong hand against your face stopped your threats. The man moved so quickly that you had barely even seen him step towards you before he’d swung, slapping you backwards so that the back of your head slammed against the stone wall and your wrist was stopped painfully by the chain around in. You staggered forwards, tasting blood and trying to get the rusted chain to settle at a different part of your wrist—one not cut from the abuse it had suffered.
“You talk too much,” the man growled. “Try to threaten me again, and you’ll get a lot worse.”
You didn’t speak as the man pulled a cell phone from his back pocket and dialed. After a moment, he spoke.
“Hello, Winchesters. Now now, there’s no need for threats, I just want to chat. I found your little sister, you see, and I’d like to give her back. However, I’ve hit a problem; you boys have been sniffing around where you shouldn’t. You’re in the wrong town, and I want you to leave. As soon as we know you’re gone, we’ll take this little brat of yours and put her on a bus, and she’ll be back to you safe and sound. If not…well, we’ll be shipping her in a tiny little box instead.”
You found yourself sinking to your knees as the demon talked to one of your brothers, exhausted from the pounding in your head and weak from fear.
“Oh?” The man’s tone suddenly changed, and you found yourself trying to melt into the shadows as you shrunk away from him. “You want proof, huh?” He pulled the phone away from his face, and suddenly his black eyes were on you. “Your big brothers don’t believe that you’re here. How about we fix that?” Almost before you could blink, your arm was twisted behind your back and the demon was yanking you to your feet. He twisted you around and shoved you face-first against the stone wall. The wall was just barely too far away from the chain around your wrist, but the force of the demon’s blow had your wrist twisting at an odd angle against the chain, and it was enough for your nose to crash against the rough stone.
The cry of pain left you before you could even think to stifle it. You could barely hear the muffled protests of your brothers on the phone before the demon put the phone back to his ear and spoke again.
“Now, was that enough or do I need to get some real screams from her?…Thats what I thought. Be out of town by tonight, or…well, you already know.”
The demon threw the phone against the wall, and it shattered. He was out the door by the time the last broken piece hit the floor, and a moment later the door swung shut and you were once again plunged into darkness.
…
“Did you track it?” Dean asked, waiting with bated breath for his little brother’s response.
“Yes.” Sam took a deep breath. “Dean, are you sure about this? Maybe if we leave, she’ll be safer.”
Dean shook his head.
“It’s a demon, Sam. He’s not going to let her go, he’s gonna kill her. We have to do this, we have to save her.”
“Alright,” Sam sighed. “Alright, let’s go.” He watched Dean for a moment before speaking again. “Are you ok?”
Dean ran a hand over his face.
“The last thing I said to her—“
“Don’t,” Sam snapped. “Don’t do that to yourself. We’re going to find her, and you’re going to apologize to her. That’s not gonna be the last thing you said to her, because we’re going to get her back.”
“She just wanted to go to sleep,” Dean muttered, not listening to Sam. “If we hadn’t gone into that bar—if I had just listened to her—“
“Dean, stop. We’re going to save her. I know we will.”
…
You hadn’t realized how dark it was, or how much you’d appreciated the light from the open door, until you lost it. Your breaths came up shallow and unsatisfying as you cradled your dislocated wrist to your chest. You curled your knees under you, folding in on yourself as you hyperventilated. You closed your eyes tightly and tried to imagine that your big brothers were here—like they were the last time you’d had a panic attack.
You were on a hunt, and a vampire had knocked you to the floor before jumping on top of you and biting into your neck. You shrieked and struggled as the pain flooded your system.
Dean arrived almost immediately, but he couldn’t get a clear shot to lob the vamp’s head off without risking slicing your throat. He dropped his machete and tried to wrench the vampire away from you, but it was no use until Sam was able to join him and together the two of them tore the vampire away. Once he was off, it took a simple swing from Dean to take care of him.
You were lying on the floor, lifting your head away from the pool of blood that now covered the floor.
“Dean,” you whimpered as your breathing shallowed. You gingerly touched your neck, panicking even more when you noticed that the bleeding wouldn’t stop. “Dean!” You cried out again, terrified as your throat constricted from your panic and your head spun from the blood loss.
“Hey, hey.” Dean’s hands were on your face, cradling it gently as his green eyes danced in front of you. “You’ve gotta breathe baby, just breathe.”
“I’ve got you.” You felt Sam’s arms around your shoulder as he helped you into a more comfortable sitting position and supported you up. “Breathe with me, ok? In…out…in…”
With Sam counting off your breaths and Dean repeating. “You’re ok sweetheart, you’re safe, you’re safe,” you were slowly able to breathe through your panic attack.
But you didn’t have Sam or Dean now, and you couldn’t seem to grab hold of a single comforting thought as you sobbed and choked over each breath, unable to get air in, and unable to stop panicking about the lack of air.
The sound of the door opening and the blinding light that came with it barely registered as you rocked back and forth on your knees. That is, until you were suddenly yanked to your feet and a pair of black eyes were staring into yours.
“Guess who just didn’t leave town,” he taunted, and it was then that you saw the gleaming knife gripped in his hand. “And guess who’s gonna pay for it.”
“You are.” Your brain had barely registered the sound of your big brother’s voice before the black-eyed man’s eyes glowed yellow, then dimmed as he slumped to the floor, dead. “Hey sweetheart.” Dean stood behind where the demon had just been, blood dripping off the demon blade in his hand.
“Dean.” Your breathing had evened a little, but you were still crying as you reached out for your big brother. Your arm was stopped by the chain as Dean stepped over the demon’s body and grabbed hold of your shoulders.
“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding! Are you—“ Dean’s eyes landed on the cuffs, and he quickly pulled out a lock pick and got to work on it. As soon as you were free, you tried to wrap your arms around Dean, but he kept his hands on your shoulders as he surveyed your injuries.
“Dean,” you whimpered. “I’m-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was a demon, I didn’t—“
“Hey, hey…” Dean soothed. “None of this was your fault, not one bit. You’re safe now, I’m gonna get you home.”
“Hey kiddo,” Sam’s voice in the doorway turned your attention. “Ohh you’re safe,” Sam breathed in relief as he pulled you into his arms.
“Sammy,” you sobbed as you gripped onto his arm with one hand, holding your injured wrist close to your chest to protect it.
“Are you hurt?” Dean was still tugging at your shoulder, trying to assess your injuries. He stopped his tugging when he heard your whimpers and saw you trying to burrow closer to Sam. “Hey, you ok?”
“I-I thought he…I thought he was gonna…he…” you couldn’t seem to voice the fears that flooded your mind and stopped your breath.
“I’ve got you.” Sam’s arms tightened around you. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you, you’re ok…you’re ok.”
“Commere.” Dean wrapped you in his arms when Sam pulled away to make sure no demons were coming. “I’m gonna get you home—you’re ok now, I swear.”
Sam and Dean led you out of your cell and out towards the Impala, Dean’s arm wrapped around you the whole way. As soon as you were in the Impala, Dean had your arm in his hand as he inspected your wrist.
“Dislocated,” he decided. “I’m gonna have to…”
“Just do it,” you sniffled, shutting your eyes tightly.
“I’ll do it,” Sam volunteered, glancing at Dean. The two of them had a psychic moment before Sam took your small wrist delicately in his big hands and Dean crouched in front of you.
“Are you gonna start making stupid jokes?” You asked, already smiling as Dean grinned.
“C’mon now, you love my jokes,” Dean said. “Now, a priest and a demon walk into a bar—“
Dean’s goofy grin and cocky attitude already had you giggling when Sam’s fingers suddenly stiffened on your wrist and he twisted it into place.
You hissed in pain, cringing.
“I know, I know,” Sam soothed, pulling you into his arms. “I know, you’re ok now.”
“Let me get the rest of you cleaned up,” Dean said, gesturing at the scratches on your face and the blood across your lips and chin from your nose.
Sam pulled away as Dean took a first aid kit out of the trunk. Dean glanced sideways at Sam, who took the cue and slipped into the passengers seat to give you at least the semblance of privacy.
“I’m sorry,” Dean said. “For what I said to you, how I acted…and for letting you get taken.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” you sniffled as Dean rubbed antiseptic against your cuts. “I should’ve known he was a demon, I should’ve—“
“No,” Dean interrupted. “No, don’t do that. I should’ve been watching out for you, I—“
“Ok, enough!” Sam interrupted, shattering the illusion that he wasn’t listening. “It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. You’re ok now, and that’s all I care about.”
“I thought you wanted me to apologize,” Dean argued as a smile slowly crept onto his lips. Sam shook his head, unable to fight the lightheartedness that was creeping into the conversation. He chuckled—
“I wanted you to apologize for being a jerk, you idiot, not to have a fight about whose fault this was.”
You started to laugh, brushing the tears off your cheeks as you smiled. Dean turned to look at you, the grin still etched on his face.
“Commere you,” he said, pulling you back into his arms. “Sam’s right, I’m just glad you’re ok.”
“Me too,” you mumbled into his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms. Sam reached back, ruffling your hair.
“Me three.”
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#the winchesters#dean winchester#dean and sam#supernatural dean#sam winchester#winchesters x sister#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#winchesters x reader#sam winchester x reader#supernatural#sam winchester x little sister#dean winchester x little sister
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