#that man is a saint and is so patient with me but I am still so fucking scared he won’t love me either once he sees everything

[littlebittywildflower]

Why does vulnerability have to be so hard?

[astonmartinii]

Could you do a smau where she’s max’s sister and dominating MotoGP the way max is f1. Maybe they have the typical annoying younger sister/protective big brother relationship and he finds out she’s dating one of the f1 drivers? Xx

cherry lip balm | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x motogp!verstappen!reader

the verstappen siblings run motorsport, but the youngest's f1 allegiances may belong elsewhere

f1 and motogp

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,405,466 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername

f1 and motogp: happy international siblings day to max and y/n verstappen, these two have 60 wins between them 🏆

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user1: my faves i love them

user2: the way jos wasn't gonna let them kids do anything else lol

yourusername: + victoria verstappen the patron saint who puts up with both of us love you 🥰

maxverstappen: you mean putting up with you ? i'm a mature man of the world now

yourusername: girl you are fussier than all of our nephews put together mature MY ASS

maxverstappen1: i am mature and i have BOUNDARIES

yourusername: yeah you have boundaries between all your food you bland man

victoriaverstappen: i think you just proved y/n right

user3: they are the most unhinged people ever i feel so bad for victoria lol

user4: patiently waiting for y/n's championship

marcmarquez93: no marquez representation?

yourusername: you need to serve more

maxverstappen1: you guys don't have the verstappen sass

user5: someone needs to stop them 😭

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 832,771 others

yourusername: the two sides of a race week

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user6: the way she won this race and was like yeah i need that 0.5 of me drinking coffee actually

yourusername: it's a hot chocolate cause i'm a child

user7: are we all collectively ignoring the whole ass man on the last slide?

maxverstappen1: no we're not Y/N Y/M/N VERSTAPPEN CALL ME THIS INSTANT

yourusername: calm it on the all caps and maybe i'll call you

maxverstappen1: MAYBE?

yourusername: well that's not making it any better maxie

user8: i can't loose this parasocial relationship y/n get that man's hands off of you now

landonorris: y/n please pick up max's call he's threatening to throw my monza trophy PLEASE PICK UP I DON'T HAVE THAT MANY TROPHIES

yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about all caps and then come back

landonorris: y/n may you please call your beloved brother back so my very limited trophy collection does not get destroyed

yourusername: sure just for you lando ❤️

maxverstappen1: STOP FLIRTING PLEASE

yourusername: i just picked up ... and ur still commenting (plus that's not lando in the pic btw he's too skinny to be him)

landonorris: why am i getting bullied by both verstappens today, i'm just trying to help :(

maxverstappen1

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tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: there's no party like a verstappen party and a verstappen-only party with no BOYFRIENDS because they don't exist :)

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user14: ahaha passive aggressive max is my fave

yourusername: just cause you're too much of a pussy to ask charles out so i can't have a boy friend?

maxverstappen1: what?

yourusername: what?

user15: max as overprotective brother is my new favourite thing

danielricciardo: i fear y/n is 22 years old and her own woman

yourusername: awwww thanks danny at least one man here has SENSE

maxverstappen1: how much did she pay you to comment that?

danielricciardo: she didn't pay me but my house plant currently at hers was being held at gun point

yourusername: i would never

danielricciardo: so i can delete my comment

yourusername: do that and sheila gets it

user16: i know we should be more concerned with max going insane, but daniel's choice of name for his house plant is the most pressing issue

user17: hear me out but for comedic purposes ... i need y/n's bf to be a driver

maxverstappen1: do not speak that into the universe

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 808,943 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: i like the taste of her cherry lip balm

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user22: what 😭 the 😭 fuck 😭

yourusername: you don't taste half bad either ;)

oscarpiastri: come back to bed

maxverstappen1: NO NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT ARE YOU DOING DON'T SAY THAT ABOUT MY SISTER

oscarpiastri: how do you know my middle name?

maxverstappen1: i called your mum, anyhow YOU ARE A DEAD MAN

oscarpiastri: how did you get my mum's number?

maxverstappen1: i'm trying to threaten you please stop asking questions

yourusername: maxy please stop trying to be scary i know you still wear footy pjamas at christmas

maxverstappen1: well i hope oscar is terrified by my christmas spirit

user23: i feel like i lose brain cells watching y/n and max talk to each other

user24: we ignoring the fact that max managed to get oscar's mum's number just to ask for his middle name PETTY KING

maxverstappen1: it was more than a middle name, i needed a character witness

yourusername: CHARACTER WITNESS? YOU WORK WITH HIM? YOUR BEST FRIEND IS HIS TEAMMATE?

maxverstappen1: i understand you are making points and no one has a bad word to say about him ... but i've got to stick to the bit now

oscarpiastri: so i'm not going to die in hungary?

maxverstappen1: no. but keep all your business to yourself, i don't need to know what lip balm my sister uses and that you own a bed

oscarpiastri: got it 🫡

user25: well that was dramatic

maxverstappen1

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,203,788 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

maxverstappen1: congrats on your first podium in f1 oscar, welcome to the family i guess ... don't take photos on my phone every again

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user28: so we can all say oscar has max's approval now?

user29: mans was like wow he challenged me in the race he has the stamp of approval now

yourusername: jokes on you we look great @oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: and what the people don't know is that max was also doing face masks with us

maxverstappen1: not the serve you think it is i am very secure in my masculinity

yourusername: i'm glad you've gotten over your weird older brother act ... does this mean you'll both come to my next race?

oscarpiastri: i'll be there :)

maxverstappen1: i guess

yourusername: whooooooooop finally

user30: the way i am so happy for oscar i feel like i've been on this journey with him

user31: honestly rookie of the year and it's not even close

user30: i was talking about him and max... but yeah he's doing great !!!

landonorris: can i also get a pass for your next race y/n for keeping it a secret?

maxverstappen1: WHAT

yourusername: ur so dumb i actually can't

oscarpiastri: i'm not helping you here dude i just got approval

landonorris: well now i regret helping you guys

maxverstappen1: open your door lando

user32: is he dead?

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,348,300 others

tagged: maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri

yourusername: fifth win of the season, my family and the love of my life, what could be better

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user33: i feel like the shit storm of max and oscar has defo distracted us from the fact that f1 and motogp fans are suffering through a verstappen winning nearly every race

maxverstappen1: i want everyone to appreciate my character growth as i took that gross ass last photo

yourusername: thank you maxy, what a sacrifice

oscarpiastri: thanks dude, you did push me in the water right after though

maxverstappen1: uh you snooze you lose, a verstappen rule of life, you had no phone on you so fair game, i thought you wanted to be part of this family

oscarpiastri: I DO ... does this mean i can push you in next time?

maxverstappen1: absolutely not.

yourusername: do it anyway osc i'll protect you babe

oscarpiastri: idk i'm scared

yourusername: he's ticklish he's so easy to beat

maxverstappen1: THAT WAS A SECRET Y/N

user34: if you told me last season that i'd see max go from wanting to kill piastri to being brothers with him and that i'd know he wears footy pjs and is ticklish i'd laugh in ur face

maxverstappen1: ONLY AT CHRISTMAS

oscarpiastri: don't worry mate i think it's cute

maxverstappen1: okay now i prefer you over y/n

yourusername: who? what? where? when? why?

oscarpiastri: soz babe you snooze you lose

note: ahhhhh i really enjoyed writing this so i hope you enjoy i love writing comment domestics if you couldn't tell lol xx

[puck-luck]

moving along | john marino

warnings: established relationship, general complaints about Jersey, minor brat!reader but it’s not part of the sex, untraditional sex in the sense that they do not have furniture, unprotected p in v, sex as means of resolving an argument i guess?, fingering (fem!receiving) (sometimes i wonder if i need to clarify that because i personally am not into fingering my man’s ass and i doubt it’ll ever make its way into my writing), reference to oral (m!receiving), eating come (so true) pairing: John Marino x fem!reader request: “Could I request John Marino smut where after he’s traded to the Devils from Pittsburgh his girl is upset about the move but when they get to New Jersey he decides the best way to handle the move is for them to christen the new apartment to make it feel like home?  Like literally no furniture has arrived yet and they’re already going at it.” wc: 2570

Pitt had been your home since John first signed his contract with the Penguins in the summer of 2019. You’d moved there with him because he asked, you two had curated a shared apartment space that you loved and considered your first real home as an adult. You were happy in Pittsburgh and John was happy with the Penguins. You hadn’t really known about the trade until it came, just ten days shy of the three year anniversary of Pitt becoming your home base, your foundation.

You knew that the NHL was a fickle business when John first joined. Injuries were abundant, trades happened more often than you thought they would, and at weird times. Hell, people lost their teeth all the time in hockey. It was a weird sport, but for three years you and John had made a place for yourself in Pitt. 

John had just signed a six year contract extension with the Penguins a year and a half ago– so, yeah, you were still in denial about leaving Pittsburgh. It just didn’t make sense and you couldn’t wrap your brain around it.

You had packed up in what seemed like lightning speed, ditched the town that you knew, and now you’re arriving in Jersey. You don’t know anyone or any places except your new apartment complex, your new home. 

You’re cranky because you’ve been in the car for six hours. Not because you hate New Jersey and everyone there for uprooting your life in a mere instant.

Obviously.

John has been a saint about the move and the trade. It’s not his first– since he was originally drafted with the Oilers, he’s been through this process before. The difference, as you’ve reminded him multiple times now, is that he never played with the Oilers. He was picked, but he went to college. Then, he went to Pitt. And Pitt, John, was home. Not New Jersey.

That’s the gist of the same argument you’ve been having with your boyfriend over the past week or so. It’s never escalated because John is patient with you and so great, but you’ve noticed the tick in his jaw when you huff and puff and tense up in his arms. You don’t want to be angry at him, of course you don’t, because you know that it’s not his fault he was traded. It’s just the way the cookie crumbles. However, his presence has been a reminder of the fact that you were so happy in Pennsylvania and you’ve been nothing but bitter about New Jersey.

And now, standing in your empty apartment with a frown on your face, John has reached his limit.

He sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and hooking his chin over your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck and one of your hands finds its way to his curls. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” John murmurs into your ear, another kiss adorning your neck.

You scrunch up your nose and side eye him. “Duh,” you reply. John knows that you two have been together long enough that you’d damn near follow him to the ends of the Earth, even if the end of the Earth is in New Jersey. 

Your response causes him to chuckle, kissing you again. He turns you in his arms and smiles down at you. 

You glare, pouting, but John can tell that you’re more upset than angry. It’s been a lot of change over the past few days, and even though you’ve been a little bit of a brat, your behavior has been justified. John’s heart clenches a bit when you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

It’s quite the sight– a sweet, long embrace between partners in their newest home.

At least, it’s sweet until John ruins it.

“I have an idea about how we can make this place feel a little more… homey,” John says. You know the lilt in his voice by heart, having been with him for years. 

Pulling away, you roll your eyes and making sure John sees, knowing exactly where this is headed. You play along anyway. “What’s your idea?”

John grins and whispers conspiratorially, “We need to christen the apartment. It’s not a home until it’s been christened.”

You hold back a laugh, but a smile slips through. “We don’t have a bed yet.”

“We don’t need a bed,” John says. He slides his hands down to your hips and walks forward, only stopping when your back hits the wall and he’s crowded into your space. His head dips down and he mouths over your jawline. “I can fuck you right here, against this wall.”

“Mmm, dreamy,” you quip, your hands smoothing over John’s shoulders. You tilt your head back so he has more access to your neck and he rewards you by sucking a hickey near your pulse point. “You really know how to woo a girl, Johnny.”

John’s hips press against yours and you can already feel him stirring in his pants, growing harder as he continues to suck bruises along your skin. His hands have found your waist and hold onto you desperately. His lips make their way to yours and you share a brief kiss before he pulls away. “Just want to make my girl feel better,” he says, blinking innocently at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

Oh, how you fall for those eyes over and over again.

You draw out a sigh, looking around the apartment. One of your hands returns to John’s curls and pets through them, making him wait for your response. John, patient as always, waits for your response with an attentive smile and a tiny tilt of his head. His eyes rake over your face, taking in all of the details. His thumb comes up to your chin, tilting your head up. He leans in for a kiss.

You offer your lips up willingly, letting him control the pace. When he pulls away, you relent. “I guess we can christen the apartment,” you faux-complain, like it’s a job to keep up with John and his libido. 

John growls, teeth finding your bottom lip. “Let’s see if I can convince you to be a little more enthusiastic,” he teases, sneaking his hands up your shirt and lifting it over your head. He tosses the fabric behind him. Out of sight, out of mind. 

You hadn’t worn a bra today, since all you had done was sit in the car all day, and John reaps the benefits of that fact almost immediately.

He latches onto your chest, licking over one of your nipples and pinching the other. You pull on his hair, arching your back away from the wall. Your mouth opens in a silent moan as you puff out your chest, chasing the sensation of his tongue swirling against the peak of your nipple. He switches sides, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Johnny,” you say, and he smiles against your skin. You bring him back up to your lips, groaning when his tongue finds its way into your mouth and makes contact with your own. 

He runs his fingers all over your body, cupping your breasts and tracing your sides. He takes a handful of your ass and squeezes, making you jump against him. His length is fully hard now, still pressing into your hips, and he breathes out a moan when you roll your hips, grinding against him. 

You tug at his t-shirt, a wrinkly old stained thing from college, and he pulls away from you just long enough to get the offending clothing over his head before reconnecting your lips.

Now, your hands are the ones roaming his body, mapping his details through feel alone. He’s always been lean, but his skin is warm against yours and he’s defined in all the right places. He’s also soft and solid and he moves with your hands, making sure you’re always touching him in some way. You place the flat of your palm against his stomach, and the other against his chest, and you can feel John’s heart beating underneath your touch.

John sinks to one knee, pulling your shorts down and kissing over your stomach as he does. He removes your shorts and your panties, leaving you bare against the wall. He holds you steady, completely unnecessarily but sweet nonetheless, helping you step out of the clothing. He kisses his way back up your body.

Pecking your lips, he runs a finger through your folds. “So wet,” he mumbles into your mouth, pride filling his tone. He brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean, then traces his tongue over yours. You can just barely taste yourself and it makes your knees a little weak. 

You lean into him, pulling him close. John works his finger back into you, pumping it slowly into and out of your entrance. It’s barely enough contact, barely fulfillment, and it isn’t long until you beg John to add another finger.

You’re scrambling, holding his bicep with a vice grip as he hikes your leg up onto his hip to give himself more access. You’re fucking against his hand, chasing the feeling of the orgasm that’s just out of reach, and it makes your eyelids flutter shut.

You moan aloud when John crooks his fingers and traces the spongy spot inside of you, teasing it. When you open your eyes, you find his trained on your face, lips parted and eyes wide. He never gets tired of seeing you like this, seeing you come apart on his hand.

“Please,” you breath out, voice cracking. You know you can come anytime, whenever you’re ready, that you don’t need permission, but you need John to give you just a little more.

“Touch your clit for me, baby,” John replies, kissing just under your earlobe.

You reach around and pet over your bundle of nerves, the contact making you clench down on his fingers. John groans at the feeling, sagging against you. You’re trapped between the wall and his warm, solid, strong body. 

“Make yourself come,” John encourages, voice soft. “Wanna see you.”

A wanton whine rips from your throat as your climax overtakes you. You arch into John as much as you can and he brings his mouth to your nipple once again, sucking harshly as the waves of your orgasm overtake you. It elongates it, makes your mind reel with pleasure, and you’re shaking in John’s arms by the time you come down.

He kisses you until you’re on solid ground again, the hand that’s not covered in your come crading your face. The other hand pushes at his shorts until they’re low enough that he can kick them away, then he does the same with his boxers. John grinds against you, his cock twitching against your oversensitive folds, but not breaching your entrance just yet.

He rubs himself against you until you pull away from his kiss and blink up at him, eyes hazy. Both of your hands find his cheeks and you smile at him, a little dopey. He returns the smile, goofy and oh, so pretty before dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, rolling his hips forward again with a bite to his bottom lip.

You nod, a quiet “please” falling from your lips. Your arms loops around his neck again and John brings his hands to your thighs, lifting you until your legs wrap around his waist.

“I’m gonna fuck you in every room of this apartment,” John promises, lining himself up with your entrance. You sink down on him as much as you can, as soon as his tip pushes into you. “Make you come over and over again, until you love our new home–” He thrusts his hips forward. “Just as much as you love me.”

“Impossible,” you reply. “Love you too much.”

John grins, a hand on your hip and the other bracing himself against the wall. “We’ll see.”

He drills into you, the sound of his hips slapping against yours filling the empty apartment. It seems to echo off the walls, surrounding you. John’s grunts and moans fill your ears, and your whimpers fill his. He bites your neck, then soothes the skin with a pass of his tongue, letting his saliva cool over your throat. It’s almost as satisfying as the weight of his hand would be.

He fills you so well, and he’s pent up, having been waiting to fuck you for hours. His favorite way to satisfy you, to make you content, is to fuck all of the negativity away and make it so your head is full of thoughts about him and the pleasure he’s giving you, nothing more and nothing less. The move was the perfect excuse to fuck you hard and fast and dirty, the way John knows you love.

As evidenced by your walls clenching down around him, the wet slick dripping from your cunt and gathering at the base of his cock. God, if he can get you to come before he does, he’ll have you lick it all off until his come paints the back of your throat.

Just the thought has him fucking you harder, faster. You’re barely able to make any noise because it’s just so good, and John relishes in the feeling of your fingernails digging into his back. Back in its favorite place, one of your hands pulls on his curls, grip so tight that his head has to follow. 

John brings both hands to the globes of your ass, leaning into you so that your back against the wall supports you both. He presses into you, fucking so deep that he swears he can feel the tip of his cock against your cervix with each thrust. 

You cry out, tensing against him as he fucks you through a second orgasm, your legs shaking around him. You’re breathless and despite the overstimulation, you’re still fucking down onto him, rolling your hips to meet every thrust. 

John ditches his other plan on a whim, burying his face in your neck and allowing his hips to stutter, his warm seed shooting off inside of you. You moan aloud at the feeling and John almost buckles, and would have if the wall behind you hadn’t been holding the both of you up. He catches his breath, his thrusts slowing as he continues to fuck his come deep inside of you, feeling the way your walls drag against his shaft. 

“So good,” you sigh as John lowers you to the floor.

He slips out of your warmth with a wince, his cock softening. His mouth waters as he watches the come slide down the inside of your thighs, a milky mixture of both of your releases.

You laugh a little at the feeling, dragging your hand over the skin to stop the flow and licking the liquid off your palm to clean yourself up. 

John groans at the sight. “Fuck, baby, don’t do that,” he complains. “I can’t go again yet.”

“Mmm,” you hum around your fingers, drawing them out of your mouth with a pop that has John wilting. You smile, sickly sweet and teasing. “Just like at home. Nice to see that a change of location doesn’t affect your refractory period.”

[forever-rogue]

Joel teaching reader how to swim and hella sexual tension I would DIE

I am a sucker for the thought of Joel teaching reader how to do anything

AN | Shut up though, I loved writing this! 🥰 

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel had taught you a lot of things since you'd met him almost two years ago.

He'd taught you how to shoot properly, despite the fact that you nearly blew his head off. He had the patience of a saint, but claimed he had the heart of a sinner. Either way - he was the one that taught you.

He'd taught you how to drive, despite the fact that there was no real reason for you to know. Sure, you had been plenty old enough drive before the end of the world but had never wanted to. These days it just seemed like a novelty. Even though you had managed to back into a tree - a feat he still wasn't sure how you managed - he still was patient and gentle with you. 

The man had taught you a lot of useful things and skills, and you were always an eager learner. If anything, you enjoyed being in his company. 

In turn you'd shown him some of your own skills and tricks. You were sure they paled in comparison but you couldn't deny the fact that it was hilarious to watch him try and bake. He might have been a decent cook but a baker, he was not. And yet you still ate his hard, flavorless cookies with a big smile on your face.

You loved getting to show him how to crochet, despite how frustrated he grew at the delicate materials in his hands. You set him right over and over again but never lost your patience even when he was ready to give up. He'd ended up making you an off kilter scarf; you adored it.

It was a trade off between the two of you; give and take, take and give. Sometimes it was the little things, like him making sure you'd remembered to eat or bringing you a coffee or you making sure he'd rested or didn't forget any of his tools. 

You didn't really know where that left the two of you, in this sort of weird limbo where you were neither just friends but also not lovers. It was…odd. Sometimes you were ready to step across the line, to step from the garden into the jungle and finally just kiss him but you never quite worked up the needed bravado. Joel experienced significant moments of weakness, ones where he desired to pull you into his arms and kiss you dizzy, but he never let him spiral. Instead he kept his distance, yearning and yearning and yearning.

But now? Now he was convinced you were trying to kill him.

And it had all started one lazy evening when he couldn't keep his mouth shut. Idiot, he cursed himself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"What do you mean you don't know how to swim?" Joel almost choked on his beer as you offered him a sheepish little smile, "that's - its - I…that's a basic life skill!"

"I dunno," you felt your face warming and warming under his intense scrutiny, sure you would explode from the look in his eyes, "I just never learned and never really a need to."

"What if some sort of emergency happened and you needed to swim, huh?" He leaned back in his chair and regarded you with curiosity, a smile dancing across his features, "you just gonna drown?"

"No," you waved him off, "I always thought that I'd be able to just…figure out."

"Right," he was holding back his laughter, you could tell, "of course."

"Joel Miller!" You huffed at him, "do not laugh at me!"

"I'm not!"

"You are too," you looked at him with a pout and he leaned forward to brush a few stray hairs out of your face. The simple shiver felt electric, "don't be mean…please."

"I'm not, sweetheart," he promised, "but I am going to teach you how to swim."

"What?!"

"Yes," he nodded cooly, "and you don't get a choice so don't bother arguing. You need to know how…and even if you never swim again, at least you'll know how to."

"Fine," you pretended to glare at him, your expression falling so far away from that, "fine."

"Fine," he nodded in agreement, "this weekend at the lake."

He had no idea he'd just signed his death warrant.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a warm and sunny afternoon when you made your way over to the lake. You had your bathing suit on under your baggy t-shirt and jean shorts. This felt so…normal. That alone brought a smile to your face.

Joel was already there, a blanket and some towels and a picnic basket on the ground next to him. If you'd been looking at him and not stunned at everything he'd brought, you might have noticed the way his entire face lit up.

"Joel," you finally turned to him and felt your legs already turn to tell at the sight of him, "you've…definitely gone well above what I expected."

"Well, I had to make this a good first time…e-experience," his cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you giggled at him.

"A good first time, huh?" You teased and yeah. You were absolutely going to be the death of him.

"First time swimming," he stared at his feet, mentally kicking himself for how foolish you made him feel, "first experience with swimming."

"Relax Miller," you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I'm just teasin'."

"You're being cruel," he insisted as you shrugged innocently, "we're here for a very serious purpose."

"You're right," you nodded firmly, "let's get started…unless you want to eat first?"

"Food after," he insisted as you playfully rolled your eyes and nodded. You kicked off your slides and tugged down your shorts. Your t-shirt had been oversize and baggy enough that nothing was really showing. 

This much Joel could handle. This was still in the safe zone. He mirrored your actions and pulled down his pants, leaving his bottom half in swim trunks. You took a moment to admire that much of him.

Then you did it; you almost gave him a heart attack as you lifted up your shirt, making quick work of throwing it off and discarding it into the growing clothes pile. Joel inhaled sharply as he looked you over with wide eyes.

You were wearing a two-piece, one that first you perfectly, highlight every curve, and looked like it was made for you. Joel was almost drooling as he willed himself not stare at your ass or breasts, reminding himself that this was just to teach you to swim. A valuable life skill. 

But he was slowly forgetting that with each passing moment, drinking you in and trying his best to remain respectful. You were just so damn beautiful.

You caught him staring and instantly shied away, worried by his silent reaction, "is this too much? Should I try and change into something else-

"No!"

"This was the only one I could scrounge up," you nervously scratched the back of your neck, "nobody seemed to have anything better."

Right. Because no one else in Jackson had something better or more modest. They did, of course they did, but…they were also tired of watching the two of you moon over each other and thought that maybe this would push the two of you in the right direction. Friendly encouragement, Ellie would call it.

"It's fine," it was anything but fine. It was giving him a heart attack and a hard on, "really."

"Okay," you nodded shyly as he cleared his throat, "come on then, I can't be the only one this exposed!"

Joel hesitated for a moment before moving to take off his shirt. It was something he still struggled with at times, but he knew that you'd never judge him. If there was anything he trusted, it was you.

As soon as he was shirtless you had to work to keep from jumping his bones. He was always insanely attractive in that rugged, handsome way and this was no exception. Golden skin marred with the harshness and cruelty of the years and dotted with freckles. You wanted to map them out with your lips, to taste him, and make him yours. It could be so simple, really. All you had to do-

"Hey," Joel snapped you out of your little daydream fantasy and you looked back at him with a soft, dreamy smile, "take a picture, huh?"

"Ha ha," damn. He'd caught you red-handed, "let's get started."

"Get in the water," he insisted as he jerked his head to the side.

"Pardon?"

"Dive right in," he repeated, "I'll go first and make sure you don't drown, sweetheart. Gotta learn to tread water first and foremost."

"I…I'm nervous," you confessed softly, "what if I can't do it?"

"You can," he promised softly, "I have full faith in you. And you know I would never let anything happen to you."

You both knew he was right.

"Okay. I trust you," you whispered, walking to the water's edge. 

It was sink or swim, and something told you that was going to be applicable for multiple things today.

"Good," he promised, "come on."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Turned out that swimming wasn't too bad at all. Or too hard. What was that old expression - like a duck to water? Well that happened to be you. It probably didn't hurt that you didn't want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel, so you listened closely and tried your best to do exactly what he was telling you.

Admittedly it was hard to stay focused with him close and so bare and so hands on. Every fiber of your being was humming with anticipation and nerves.

"Not so hard," Joel grinned as you swam to a stop in front of him. You were practically glowing under his praise. 

"Not so bad-" but just then you felt something touch your leg, and you shrieked. It was such an odd and unexpected sensation that your body did the first thing it could thing of - grab onto to Joel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," you were holding onto him tightly, pressing your body into his as you willed whatever had touched you to disappear. Joel, naturally and instinctively, wrapped his arm around you in a protective manner, "what's wrong? What happened?"

 “I felt something,” you closed your eyes and buried your face into his neck - his glorious, lovely neck - and tried to calm down, “it was brushed against my leg. It felt so weird and gross.”

“Oh,” and he laughed, the bastard had the audacity to laugh, as you pulled back and looked at him with a pretty pout on your lips. He longed to kiss it away, “we’re in a lake sweetheart, there’s bound to be some fish in here.”

“Fish?” your nose wrinkled in disgust, something which he found endearing as hell, “I…that makes sense. But I don’t like it! It felt horrible.”

“You’re okay,” he promised sweetly, pushing your wet hair behind your ears, “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” there was a palpable shift between the two of you then and there. He didn’t let go of you, and you weren’t in a hurry to pull out of his touch. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, at a loss for words. Instead, you just looked at him, the human embodiment of heart eyes, “Joel.”

“How much longer are we going to keep doing this?” he asked so quietly that for a moment you wondered if he’d even said anything. But then he was so close, and so close for you to finally kiss.

“D-doing what?” you stammered nervously, well aware of what he meant.

“Dancing around each other,” he brushed his knuckles over your cheek and you made a small sound in the back of your throat, “acting like we don’t want this. So close, but never quite there.”

“We could stop…”

“We should stop,” he agreed with a small nod, tilting his head as he cupped the back of your neck with a soft touch, “if you want to.”

"Oh totally, I want to,” you agreed, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours and he was kissing in the sweetest and most gentle touch. You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you as he pulled you impossibly closer and you melded your body into his. He didn’t stop until you were breathless and definitely in a dizzying love spiral. 

“Look at that,” he pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as you sighed softly, “nothing happened and you, sweetheart, know how to swim.”

“I had a pretty good teacher,” and with that you kissed him again, lazy and saccharine, neither of you in a rush to end what had been building for so long, “you know?”

“It’s easy when you have a good student,” he teased affectionately, “you’re going to be the death of me…but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you sighed into his touch, “but you love it.”

“I do,” he had to stop himself from saying what was really on his mind just yet. He didn’t want to rush; he wanted to take the time to cultivate what he had with you, to watch it blossom and grow over time, “I do.”

[unreliablesnake]

Hold on tight (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You keep your end of the deal and return to Paris to visit Vincent.

Note: I'm not happy with this. / previously on... / The title comes from this song. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: smut(ish)

“It's been more than half a year,” Winston noted one night when you couldn't sleep and decided to join him in the bar. “The Marquis is already looking for you.”

“I know.”

He was right. Rumor had been flying around that he was paying some people to come to the Continental just to check on you in these past months. And all along, Winston did his best to shield you, keep you away from having to face the possibility of meeting him again. But lately things had gotten worse, you knew it.

“You know,” you began once you took a sip of your drink, “I thought time and distance would help me. That I would feel better. That I wouldn't feel the need to be near him. But it's not working, I still want him,” you explained sadly.

“Then go and meet him,” he offered the solution as if it was that easy.

Because it wasn't easy. You were fighting your emotions so hard for a long time, but that emptiness from being away from him just kept crawling back. “And if he somehow convinces me to stay with him?” you asked since it was a possibility. You might get weak and stay if he asked.

“Is that what you're afraid of?” Nodding, you leaned back in the chair and crossed your legs. “He's a bad man. We're not saints either, but at least we follow the rules.”

“How is this supposed to help me? I already knew he's a jerk.”

Winston let out a heartfelt laugh. “What if he can change for the better because of you? What if he would change if that was the price of being with you?”

“I'm not so sure about that.”

“I am,” came his reply that took you off guard. You gave him a questioning look then waited for the explanation. “He's been sending you handwritten letters, and tries to call you almost daily… This man is in love, sweetheart. Who knows how far he would be willing to go to get you.”

You shrugged. “Maybe he will kidnap me again.”

“That didn't work out the first time,” Winston pointed out.

“True.”

“Also, he's not known for his patience, yet he's been waiting long months for you to keep your end of the deal.”

He was right again. Vincent was surprisingly patient with you, he didn't start harassing you through his men, instead he kept his distance and kept an eye on you without saying a word. And while you didn't even want to think about it, Winston pointed out this difference.

The man who was so used to getting whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted it was waiting patiently for a woman. He could have gone out to pick up someone else, but no, according to rumors he was waiting for you. It was hard to decide whether it was flattering or terrifying.

Your boss let out a sigh as he glanced down at the notebook on the table in front of him. “You should go to Paris. However long it takes,” he added before you could say you didn't want to be away from this place in case he needed your help.

He didn't even have to look up to know you were about to object. But you kept your mouth shut, and so you ended up buying a ticket and packing your suitcase in the following hours. “I'm an idiot for doing this,” you told yourself as you collected some items from the bathroom.

Thirteen hours later you once again landed in Paris, although this time you were on your own. Or so you thought. At the airport you were greeted by a man Vincent sent there to pick you up and take you to him. You followed him without asking questions, knowing full well it would be futile to resist and insist on traveling on your own to the hotel where you reserved a room for yourself.

Unlike the last time, the mansion didn't look cold and threatening. No, it was warm and welcoming, a place where you could feel safe right away. Safe. With him. You didn't think these two things would ever be connected by the same sentence. While you'd been here the last time, you were always on the edge, feeling like you didn't belong.

But now? Now you had a feeling you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

A staff member came to help you with your luggage, assuring you that they would take it straight to your room, while a woman came to accompany you to the room Vincent was in at the moment. Your eyes scanned the paintings on the walls as you passed by, the familiar sight making you feel at home.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come,” you suddenly heard the familiar voice say. You looked up and noticed him standing in the hallway, hands folded behind his back as he watched you. He sounded unsure, a quite shocking experience compared to the authoritative Vincent you had met the last time.

You waited until the woman was told to leave and the two of you were left alone before you said anything. “Me too,” you replied quietly. “But someone convinced me to come here and keep my end of the deal.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened and you wondered what made him do it. Was it because you said you were only here because of that deal? It could be the reason.

“I’m glad I’m here,” you added, surprising yourself with this sentence.

Because if you wanted to be honest, you were glad to be in Paris again. To be with him. All those months of thinking about him while your brain tried to warn you forget him had its toll on you. You were tired and doubted your feelings all the time. But now that you were here with him, you began to see clearly.

This man had managed to get under your skin despite being a kidnapper, planting the seeds in your brain that then turned you into this mess eventually. But it worked. You were here, you were yearning for his touch, and you had to fight your instincts to keep your distance for now.

Let's see what he does. You shouldn't throw yourself at him as if he had done nothing wrong. Having a spine is a good thing.

“I got your room ready,” he spoke up again, sounding surprisingly awkward. “I thought you might want to get some rest first. I have a dinner reservation, but if you'd rather stay here, I can have something made for us.”

“We can go out, I guess,” you replied as you nervously swept a strand of hair behind your ear.

Vincent nodded. For a few moments you both stood there in silence, but then he cleared his throat, excused himself, and went back into the room he had previously emerged from. After letting out a long sigh of relief, you headed towards your room, ready to get some well-deserved sleep.

A few hours later you put on a nice dress and did your makeup properly, ready to head out with him for the evening. Because you were sure it wasn't just a dinner he was planning for the two of you. A play? An opera? Maybe a museum? Whatever it would be, you wouldn't object.

As it turned out, you knew him perfectly well, because you were right about his plans. He was hesitant the whole time, as if he wasn't sure how to approach you anymore, but he managed to stay in charge, and that was a good thing.

Because you were too focused on your own needs, on his beautiful green eyes, on his lips, and on his suit. It was just too much to handle, and when you were in the back of the car on the way back to his home, you slowly reached out to take his hand.

He looked surprised, but he wrapped his fingers around your hand, then raised it to his lips to place a soft kiss on it. “I really missed you, my love,” he said.

“Don't think that kidnapping me all those months ago is completely forgiven. But in all honesty, I missed you too. I really did,” you added with a smile before resting your head on his shoulder.

In the next two days, Vincent made sure you felt comfortable in his company. He was nice, and sweet, and things eventually got as intimate as they used to be. You found yourself in his bedroom after a wonderful afternoon in the Louvre, your body pressed to the wall as his lips traced your skin.

He explored your body like this was the first time he had seen it without clothes, and he kept you from moving around, pinning you down to make sure you didn't start removing his clothes. No, he wanted to take his time with you, driving you crazy by not giving you exactly what you wanted.

But a sick part of you loved every second of it, it craved the physical pain not being able to touch him caused. Because you wanted to lay your hands on his body, feeling the smooth skin under your fingertips before moving down to tease his cock.

Vincent could tell you were silently suffering by now, so he kept praising you, even as he got on top of you in bed and leaned down to kiss your collarbone before slowly moving up to your neck. This is when you began to beg him to fuck you, to skip this stupid teasing and finally give you what you needed so badly.

“Would it be weird if I told you I loved you?” you asked him while you were lying in bed together, both of you on the brink of falling asleep.

He let out a quiet, uncharacteristic laugh, then kissed your forehead. “I feel the same way, mon amour,” he told you. “What do you think about staying here for a while? For a few months, maybe.”

You let out a sigh as you thought about his suggestion. Winston had told you to stay as long as you had to, but did you really want to leave him alone for that long? “That's a lot of time, Vincent, I'm not sure. I have responsibilities back home,” you said, more to convince yourself than him.

“Don't you want to be with me?”

“Why don't you come to New York for a week or two? I could show you around,” you offered with a laugh.

He watched you silently for a while, carefully thinking about this idea. Sure, after what had happened the last time he was there, it was understandable if he was a little hesitant.

Maybe it wouldn't be weird to stay in France after all. After leaning over to give him a soft kiss, you rested your forehead against his. “Okay, fine, I'll stay here.”

Little did you know at the time that you wouldn't stay for just a couple of months. You stayed here for good, eventually marrying the man who had almost destroyed your life at one point.

[pinkofatom]

A delicious Betrayal - A delicious Doll

Content Warning: maledom, femsub, noncon, dolls, mentions of hypnosis, personality erasure

Seriously, this is a little darker than my other stuff here.

🩷🩷🩷

Michael and I sat in a small cafe, like every Sunday. As always, he fiddled uncertainly with his silly bowtie. I couldn't stop the small smile that graced my lips. Playful, I tugged some of my blonde hair back. His eyes followed my hands as they stroked subtlely along my neck down over my bust. His fingers knotted together when his eyes focused on the cleavage barely hidden by my tight white blouse. He was so easy to distract.

"So you were saying?"

Humming, I traced my cup's rim. "Well, I think it's time to go further." He nodded, his eyes finally back in contact with my own.

"Really? That's great, Clara!"

We both grinned. I could feel his excitement mirroring mine. It was an interesting dynamic we had built in the past few months.

"Yes, I think I'm ready." As I took a sip of my latte, my mind drifted a little down memory lane.

About two years ago, I dated a complete asshole. A charming smile, a muscular, athletic build, and a quick wit. And that smooth voice. Even now, I could easily hear his whispers and how they seep into my brain.

"Clara? You okay?" Michael snapped his fingers.

Blinking, I shook my head. My face contorted into a grimace. "Sorry, Michael. I just remembered something." He frowned, and I could already see his thoughts running. With an annoyed grunt, I added quickly.

"Uhhg, not him, not...that. It's about the... It's a secret. But I think I have to tell you." Michael nodded and waited patiently.

So I took a deep breath. This was embarrassing. Not that I felt uncomfortable around my boyfriend. We both saw each other in a spectrum of states in our time. He was there for my crying, and I for his.

So I began: "Michael, I have to be honest: you know, it was one thing that my last boyfriend betrayed my trust." His eyebrows knit. "You see, I was into hypnosis. And he, well, he had skill."

Again, my mind returned to the sweet words. They had haunted my dreams for so long. Sometimes, I had the feeling, just the faintest of ideas, that their power would never dissipate.

"Wait...you don't think that you're...I mean, I know you like to submit, but you would say if there were triggers, right?"

A slight blush dusted my cheek. Oh, he was such a good man, worrying like this.

"Well," I hesitated, "there is one." Careful, I looked into his dark brown orbs. They radiated understanding. Why was I so hesitant? Michael would never abuse this.

But there was that niggling fear in the back of my mind that these words held power. A dark, sweet temptation that would corrupt even this saint of a man.

"I'll give the trigger phrase to you. I trust you won't use them." Slowly, Michael's hand reached over and stroked mine. My fingers flexed, then curled around his.

"Of course. I love you, Clara." He smiled. I couldn't suppress the warm feeling in my heart.

"You're so wonderful; you know that Michael?" And he really was. "So it's not a complicated one or something you stumble over. Clara doll drop deep." We both fell silent. Even my trust in him didn't help me avoid the anxious clench of fear around my throat.

"It's pretty straightforward." Michael scratched his head, still holding my right hand. A gleam entered his eyes. Something dark and greedy.

"Clara doll, drop deep."

Instantly, the words seeped into my mind. The soft tone and familiar inflection soothed me, and at the same time, they wrapped themselves tight around my consciousness. I felt a soft pull on the back of my head.

'Clara doll, drop deep... I am dropping...deep. It's nice, just sinking further...down...so very, very nice.'

My eyes drooped, and my posture slouched ever so slightly. I barely registered how his hand left my own, and my arms followed its retreat, falling limp to my side. But still, my eyes stayed on his, looking down, further down into those deep, dark eyes.

I couldn't help the warm smile tugging on my lips when a comforting silence wrapped around my thoughts like an old blanket.

Deeper. So relaxed, so obedient...

So good. My thoughts slowed to a halt. Everything blurred and dimmed.

"Clara doll dropped deep." A sigh escaped my lips. "Clara doll is ready. Her mind is open and pliable." The words formed on their own as I sagged into the seat. "Clara doll needs commands. Please make use of her."

Michael sat still. It seemed like hours passed before he said anything. "Stand up, Clara doll." With slow, unsteady movements, I did as commanded. His eyes roamed over my body. Every cell in my being tingled. His gaze felt like a caress, tracing along my exposed skin.

"This is real, right?"

His voice trembled. Again, his fingers drummed on the table.

"Clara doll is ready to obey." Michael took a deep breath. His dark eyes bore into mine, now heavily hooded and framed by long golden lashes. I waited for him, frozen in place, awaiting another task—my sole purpose was to fulfill my Master's wishes. My lips formed a content smile as I let my mind drift deeper into submission.

My voice seemed distant. Deep in the back of my head, alarm bells rang, but I pushed them aside. There was no reason to fear. I felt relaxed and happy, with no care in the world. Just thinking about following my master's will made me feel like I was in heaven.

"Okay, okay. Let's leave and go to my place." His voice trembled slightly. I saw how he clenched his hands around the table. "I can't believe it really worked."

My face broke into a beaming smile. I saw my reflection in his eyes. A beautiful blonde girl with wavy shoulder-length hair, wearing a white blouse and short black skirt, stood before him. Her expression was of submissive anticipation, like a good pet waiting for its owner. "Whatever you wish, Master." My voice was soft and monotone, unfitting to the bubbly emotions boiling up in my mind. But when I spoke these words, I could feel them seep into my brain, settling in their place.

With swaying hips, I followed him to the car. His eyes trailed over my body. I felt their effect like a warm touch, caressing my skin, filling me with wanton need. A whiff of his musk filled my nose. It sent pleasant shivers down my spine. My legs felt like jelly as I sank into the passenger seat.

"So obedient, " he marveled and stroked my cheek. His touch seared my skin. It was hard to stay still; my whole body craved more. The tension was so heavy that my head buzzed, and I wasn't sure if the excited dizziness was an aftereffect of the trigger or caused by my rampant desires.

Blinking, I shook my head. "What's happening," I slurred the words. "Michael, what did you do?"

He entered and said, "Clara doll, drop deep." Immediately, my mind locked up. Once again, I lost control over my body. The euphoric sensation when the command wrapped itself around my thoughts and dragged me under was intoxicating. I couldn't help but enjoy every second. This blissful state, where everything became so simple, just melted away all my worries and problems.

"I did nothing, Clara. You are already obedient and submissive. Just as a good little slut should be."

Slut. The word circled my empty mind.

"Man. When we started dating, I knew there was something about you. But never did I think you would have been such a kinky bitch. Hypnosis? You must really like having no control. After all — everyone knows hypnosis can't make you do something you would never do." He shook his head in amusement. "I could command you to suck my cock, and you would suck it like the horny little whore you are."

My lips tingled with anticipation. They craved something hard and thick to taste, to feel their way along a rough texture, making it wet and slippery with saliva.

He licked his lips as he continued: "Just imagine my cock inside your mouth, okay." He started the engine. I did what he said. I imagined the sensation of a hard piece of flesh invading my warm, wet cavern. I imagined how it would feel when I ran my tongue all over its shaft, savoring every inch.

As the car sped up, I pictured how he would push into my mouth until he was buried in my throat. My muscles flexed, and my jaw opened slightly. The idea made me want to moan in pleasure. But I stayed silent and obedient.

My hands curled up on my lap. The short black skirt bunched around my thighs, revealing more of my long, smooth legs. My mind kept returning to his words. I dropped deeper and deeper.

I could not wait to suck his cock. My imagination went wild with possibilities. Would he grab my hair and force me down? Would he use my mouth like a pussy and fuck it until he came inside? Would he command me to get on all fours while he fucked me from behind? Would he let me do all the work and just lie back while I rode him?

Blank and drooling, I sat in the car as the surroundings moved. Finally, we arrived at his home. Eager, he opened my door. There was no longer any gentleness on his face. Greed colored his eyes. His dark pupils were fixed on my lips. Lust filled me with excitement. My pussy throbbed. I could feel how wet I was already. He was so close, his hot breath tickling my face. His musk is so strong and intoxicating. My body craved to be filled by him.

"Get up, Clara doll. And don't forget. Clara doll drops deep." Once again, the words sunk into my mind. "Clara doll obeys Master's every command." A weak whimper escaped my throat as the command wrapped itself around me like a tight glove, suffocating all thoughts that tried to resist. But it didn't matter; I wanted this more than anything else. My desires took over, and I lost myself in the blissful sensation of obedience.

My feet carried me behind him on their own. My mind blanked out. Eagerly, he shoved me down on my knees. Hastily, he opened his trousers. Without any thought, my lips wrapped around his long shaft. Empty eyes stared into his dark orbs.

"Now, Clara doll, let me tell you how our relationship will progress."

Dour exhaustion pressed on me. Groggy, my head lolled from side to side. Dull pain tumbled inside my brain. Bloodshot eyes searched for anything familiar. But the walls around me were alien. A tacky red sofa, a big flat screen, and a table filled the room strangely.

And as he thrust his hips, his words shaped my malleable mind.

🩷🩷🩷

As awareness returned, I squirmed. Worry churned inside my stomach. A well-manicured hand rubbed my forehead.

I paused.

Trembling, my hand turned in front of my gaze — black shining fingernails, long and well-maintained, glittered in her sight. Breaths grew shallow. Goosebumps traveled along my skin. With wide-open eyes, I looked down upon myself. My clothes felt different. Unfamiliar. A short black skirt barely hid silky thighs. Black boots clasped around shins and stopped around knees. Black straps wrapped around shoulders, supporting a white top that exposed a supple cleavage to the cold air. The sudden sight of my bust made me freeze.

Oh god — where were my clothes?! Why did I wear this? Panic coursed through my veins. This was not me. Pain drummed against my thoughts as I tried to remember. What was the last thing I did?

Desperately, I stumbled to the red sofa. Weak knees gave in, and my breaths grew shorter and shorter. A tinge of horror sent my heart racing as I frantically searched my mind for any clue, anything that could help me understand why I was here.

But nothing. Blankness only followed the recall.

Who did I come with? The pounding in my head made it hard to focus. Where did I come from? With every heartbeat, I felt terrified, more desperate to understand what had happened.

As I tried to stand up, the door swung open.

Instantly, I froze. The urge to run surged through me. But a numbness settled over my limbs.

"Hmm. Impressive. Three days," said a familiar voice. Instantly, I looked up. Dark brown eyes fixed on me, just like before.

"Michael?!" A shiver went down my spine. His face hadn't changed. Tall and slim with black hair combed to one side. I stood, clutching the sofa's backrest as he calmly closed the door behind him. He stood right in front of me, his nose almost touching mine. The only thing between us was the red leather sofa. He gave me a slow smile that sent another shiver through my body.

"So, you have no idea what's happening, do you?" I shook my head, overwhelmed by his sudden appearance.

"That's even more impressive. Agree, Clara doll." The strange words seeped into my ears making it difficult to concentrate.

"Yes, Clara doll agrees," I whispered. Dizziness invaded my head. Something tugged on the back of my mind. Why was I agreeing? I shivered. It was so hard to think with his intense stare focused on me.

Slowly, Michael moved around the sofa. My body turned, following his movements. I tried to fight it, but something compelled me to do so. A moment later, he sat right in front of me. His intense gaze kept locked on mine. My knees touched the ground. His masculine scent enveloped my mind like a dense fog, leaving me breathless and weak.

"So, Clara doll, recite your purpose." He gave a low chuckle as he studied me. The words came out before I could stop them.

"Clara doll lives to serve Master's every need and desire. She is eager to obey and worship his body."

My voice sounded distant, almost like a soft monotone, void of emotions. Shocked, I fell silent. Sweat beaded on my forehead. What was wrong with me?! I clenched my hands, focusing on the pain in my palm as I dug nails deep into my skin.

"And has there ever been anyone else in control of Clara doll?" He raised an eyebrow.

My tongue felt thick and dry.

"N-no." The word slipped out without warning. Was that the truth? I wanted to shake my head. Nothing made sense, but when he repeated the question, I found myself repeating the same answer.

"Good," he replied. "Very good." Michael stretched himself on the sofa. His gaze lingered on me. Smoldering eyes traveled over my body, leaving a burning sensation on my skin. Desire boiled up inside me like an erupting volcano. My breath quickened.

"Now be a good girl, Clara doll, and go deep." My muscles relaxed at once. Everything felt so easy now. Just follow his command and let the words wrap around my thoughts.

His voice lulled me into blissful obedience. "There is nothing you can do but obey. There is no need to fight it. This feels so right, so perfect." I smiled happily. He smiled back and stroked my cheek. "Go deeper." Each word ignited a new fire inside my mind. All thoughts faded away.

I dropped deep, falling into his eyes like the deep abyss, surrendering completely to his power over me. "I'm deep asleep. Clara doll submits." A sigh escaped my lips while pleasure flowed through my veins like honey. My lips parted as I breathed in deeply, inhaling his intoxicating scent.

"Good girl," he whispered. I felt how my body tingled with excitement as the praise seeped into my mind and glazed over my thoughts. Everything became so much easier now. His words caressed me like silk, wrapping around my consciousness like a soft blanket of safety and security. I felt like I belonged here, on my knees in front of my Master.

My fingers twitched and curled on their own. A warm, wet sensation trickled between my legs.

"Yes, your programming is coming along nicely. Tell me, Clara doll, what is your greatest desire?"

A soft moan escaped my lips as his question sunk deep into my thoughts. "I want to serve you, Master." My voice sounded strange to my ears. It sounded thick and heavy, like honey dripping from my mouth. But I didn't care. All that mattered was pleasing him.

"Then show me your tits." I licked my lips as his command washed over me. Instantly, I pulled my top down, exposing my breasts to him. His eyes widened as he took in my firm round globes. "Such perky tits," he murmured and leaned forward.

Warmth kissed my protruding nipple. My back arched as I felt a sudden jolt of electricity travel through my spine. The sensation sent shivers all over my body, making me tremble uncontrollably. "Yes!" I cried out. He sucked harder on my sensitive bud while cupping my other breast in his hands. A wave of pleasure surged through me like the ocean crashing against rocks. It made me squirm as he continued to squeeze and knead my soft flesh between his fingers. "Oh god!"

I couldn't resist. I was his Clara doll. Nothing more than a plaything. A puppet controlled by his desires. My mouth opened as a low moan escaped from deep within my throat. I wanted to scream out, to tell him how much I enjoyed this, how badly I needed him inside me right now. But instead, all that came out was a soft whimper of desperation. His lips moved lower down my body, leaving wet kisses along the way. When he reached my skirt, he lifted it up. His breath flowed over excited wetness.

"Very good, Clara doll. Now be a dear and erase more of boring Clara."

My mind exploded with pleasure. Everything blurred around me as ecstasy coursed through every inch of my being. "Yes, Master!" I panted heavily while grinding against him. A gasp left my mouth as he pushed deeper into my core. With every swirl my identity flushed away. I felt his tongue moving in circles, slowly rubbing against sensitive flesh. Quivers sent sparks of pleasure up my spine. Each jolt zapped another connection to my old life.

"Is Clara doll a she or an it?"

The question pierced through my foggy brain. I moaned softly. The words echoed inside my head until they filled every corner.

"Clara doll is an it. It is an obedient, docile, pliable doll for master," it groaned without inflection. "It enjoys being played with and fucked by master." The answer echoed through its mind. Over and over until there was nothing left but that one truth. That only when master used it, did it feel whole, complete, perfect. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important. It was made to serve him. Designed to fulfill his desires. His every whim, command, and fantasy became its sole purpose.

The question made it tremble. The voice sent shivers through its body, causing goosebumps along its skin. "How may Clara doll serve you, master?"

The words came out before it realized what had happened. There was no need for thought, no need to consider or hesitate. This felt natural. It belonged here on its knees in front of this man. It knew that as surely as it knew that the sun rose every morning. And just like the sun rose every morning, so did master use it whenever he wished.

"Clara doll, tell me again how you were made."

Master's command filled its mind with pleasure and satisfaction. Every fiber of its being craved to obey, serve, and please him in any way possible. It wanted nothing more than to fulfill his every desire, to give itself completely over to his will.

The reply escaped its lips before it even thought about it: "Clara doll was created by Clara's previous boyfriend long ago. He secretly programmed Clara for his enjoyment when she was hypnotized." The memories surfaced like images in a dream. A young man with dark hair and eyes dressed in a black shirt, jeans, and boots standing over the limp form of a beautiful woman with full red lips. Wide open eyes sparkled with emptiness. Drool ran along the chin. "She was thoroughly put under every night over multiple months. Memories, desires, and thoughts were conditioned to favor servitude and obedience to his every whim. Repetition and unawareness were his tools. Unfortunately, Clara figured it out. And fled."

Its arousal grew stronger as it continued: "But now Clara doll belongs to Michael. And Michael controls Clara doll." The words seeped deep inside, bringing immense pleasure as it dropped further into docile submission.

"That's right. And nothing of old Clara is left. Confirm Clara doll." His voice resounded like a hammer blow to the head.

It breathed heavily. "Clara doll is blank and empty. No thoughts, no memories, no desires, no wants, no needs, no feelings. Clara doll only follows master's instructions. Clara doll is not a person anymore." Its voice quivered with need. Every syllable filled its body with heat until its skin burned with anticipation.

"Clara doll is joyfully oblivious to anything but master's commands. It exists solely to serve his every need, to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, wherever he wants."

His hands grabbed its head. "That's right. Now, Clara doll, please me. And after that, let's talk about your former mother and sister." He caressed its cheek lovingly before releasing it back onto the ground. A moment later, his hardness poked its lips. Obediently, they opened wide.

(if you liked this, or any of my other stuff then think about giving a tip at my ko-fi. And get a giggle in return)

[winterwhisperz-blog]

Hey i just read your touchstarved headcanons and I LOVE IT!!!

And Here’s my request is that can you do a scenario of TS boys with MC who can speak different languages??? (like Italian or French)

Don’t worry i am a patient person and I won’t rush you. And i hope you’ll make more scenarios of the TS boys in be future.

YES HI HELLO !! I am, SO SO SORRY for taking two thousand centuries to respond to this—I’ve been pretty stressed over work so I haven’t been able to write headcanons as much— BUT TYSM FOR THE ASK !! IM SO HAPPY YOUVE ENJOYED MY HEADCANONS !

I do want to apologize in advance that these are going to be shorter and less one-shot like, than my others. These will be more like my Kuras Headcanons I made awhile ago—(Life has been kicking my butt lately so my motivation has been LOW)

But I hope you still enjoy them !!

Also huuuuge thanks to @danyvhell-writes

For helping me with these ideas !! You’re a saint 🙏

ALR LES GO

Note: gn reader! Fluff

Warnings: PROBABLY OOC PLS DONT HATE ME

Ais

ALR ALR AHAHAHAHA

So, one of my besties would do this A LOT where she would just switch into Spanish and I’d just be there like ???

So I thought it would be funny if you did that with Ais here

Imagine you’re in some kind of argument, a stupid, light one you know— and to annoy him

YOU JUST SWITCH INTO A WHOLE DIFFERENT LANGUAGE

He’s completely stunned, red eyes wide as you just start rambling, (very passionately) in a language he doesn’t understand

As you go on though, he just becomes utterly impressed, watching your mouth as he studies the words coming out of it (and just because he’s flirty LMAOOOO)

After you’ve had your fun, he comments something like “Impressive, Sparrow.” And then asks you, ofc, if you can teach him what you said

To tease him a bit more, you don’t tell him for a bit until he BRINGS OUT THESE GIANT PUPPY EYES

So you do start teaching him, just long evenings hunched over books or a paper as you teach him different phrases and words, the candle light dancing on his focused gaze.

And one day, out of the blue, he starts calling you Sparrow in the language you were speaking(and you also hear him practice words while talking with Princess—AND ITS SO ADORABLE)

After he’s becoming pretty good at it, you then proceed to tease other people(Leander) by randomly switching mid-conversation into a different language <33

Leander

NOW WITH THIS ONE, it reminded me of this really cool video of a guy switching between loads of languages in one song

IMAGINE showing this off to Leander one rowdy night at the Wet Wick

Maybe it’s even one of his favorite songs ??? And hearing you sing it in so many languages would absolutely knock him off his feet.

Another thing I think he’d go CRAZY FOR

Pet names, in whatever language.

Like ?? You call him something like “Mi amor…” for Spanish, or “Tesoruccio.” For Italian ??

He’s done for. Doomed. Dead. Will beg you to repeat it over and over while he showers your hands or arms with kisses.

He’s also one that would definitely be okay with you calling these pet names in public—he wants to be all smug that HES the one called yours.

He probably also learns whatever language you speak as well, might already know it because bro probably had tutors that taught him so many languages man.

In return for the pet names, he probably calls you something like “λατρεία μου” or “latria mu” (My adored !!! 🥹 in greek)

Kuras

NOW, THIS IS INTERESTING

I’m guessing since Kuras is an Angel, he knows like ??? Every language?

So when he finds out you speak others, he’s instantly curious, impressed, and now it’s quiz time.

You pass by a certain object, plant, anything, and he asks you how to say it in your language(s). Even if he may already know, he likes to hear it coming from you, enjoying the glint in your eyes as you explain things.

Another thing he’ll do, is when you’re having a library date, he’ll hand you a book and request you translate it. Either from your language to—whatever language people speak in Eridia ?? Or from that language to yours.

These will turn into nightly strolls with you translating a poem or book as he strides beside you, golden eyes locked on every word.

In return, he’ll translate whatever text into a language you don’t know. (I wonder if angels have a specific language??)

A name for him, I think it’d be cute if you called him 아름다운 천사 (Beautiful Angel in Korean !!)

Whether this is after or before you know he’s an Angel, he finds it both amusing and endearing. (Or painfully ironic if his life as an Angel is a tough subject)

Mhin

OKAY SOSOSOSOSO !! Mhin evidently thirsts for knowledge, they’re a lil nerd and they’re rlly bad at hiding it (A mood really. one of the reasons I love them <3) and my friend mentioned they’re more of a listener? So like I can see them just—paying very close attention to every word you say

At times they may not seem to be listening to you as you ramble, or catch a few words of slang from your language(s). But they’re actually secretly a sponge and soak up every little detail.

And now this may be just me but Mhin gives off such I must impress you with all my random facts vibes.

They ask questions about the languages you speak, the slang, the meanings, how to pronounce things correctly, everything

And then they do their own research, soaking up all they can before appearing to you one day and just starting the conversation in your language(s)

When you show any sign of being impressed, they will look away blushing and try to act cool but nahhh buddy you aren’t fooling anyone we know you spent forever working on that

Similar to Ais, lots of late night lessons where you get to teach Mhin about your language(s)! Just you two looming over an open book, Mhin scribbling down notes, looking so concentrated and you even spot a smile starting to form as they start getting better and better. (I love themmmmm 😭)

Mhin asks you to quiz them a lot, and looks so !! !! Just proud of themself when they pass. (Before realizing it and their self loathing kicks in and they revert back to >:( ) You want to tell them that they don’t need to be quizzed but look at their face !! Let them impress you okay !! They’re top 1 student !!

If you want you can joke about them having to call you Professor(Mc) or something but ur just gonna get a deep frown and glare like 😒 nuh uh AHAHSHS

Vere

Ohhh vere my nemesis. (He’s the toughest for me to write i have to like mentally and physically ambush him in a fast food parking lot before I can get anything outta him)

(I love him so much though so here we go !! Thanks to my friend for giving me a lot of help in this one because otherwise I’d be a doomed woman)

My friend brought up since he’s a fox, he’s very sensitive to sound !! So when you’re speaking in your mother language, he notices how your tone might change, watches as your tongue moves against your teeth or the top of your mouth, idk but he makes it a sensual thing somehow 😭

Definitely flirts with you in your language(s), says the most outrageous thing and watches as you get stunned or flustered by it, absolutely delighted that no one but you (or anyone who’s unfortunately being nosy and can understand) knows what he’s saying.

Okay this may be dumb but it’s so funny to me imagine Vere like putting on his most smooth, seductive tone, convincing the people around that he’s gonna say like the most erotic thing but he ends up just saying something like 💀 “Avocados” in your language(s) or like “Leander looks like a chicken breast” he does it to see you laugh but also because Leander overhears and could tell his name was said and thinks Vere is like— finally coming around but only you two rlly know Vere is just sexily roasting him.

Due to recent lore being dropped, and in his lil character sheet, it says Vere has a huge love for the arts. I think it’d be really neat if you introduced him to things specifically written in your language(s) !! Like books that originated from your country, plays that are only acted in that language(s), just a tour of the language! And if he doesn’t know your languages(s) then teaching him is gonna be like 💀 somehow so flirty

Will definitely call you Professor(Mc) but he makes it sound absolutely horrendous and cringey and you will regret it you probably should turn back

Jokingly will ask if you’ll give him a golden sticker if he behaves—do it, just to humble him.

OKAY WE’VE REACHED THE END WOOOT WOOT !!!! I DIDNT THINK I’D MAKE IT !!! Been stuck in this endless void for ages !!

Hem hem, thanks so much for the ask !!! I’m so so sorry it took forever 😭 writer’s block nearly had my head this time uh oh

Thank you again to my bestie for helping me out !!

Now I hope you see the most beautiful sunset, eat your favorite dessert, learn something new, and have a happy spring !! 🫶🩷✨

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The In Between

Season Three Episode Two

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4708

Series Masterlist

Summary: Spencer tries to hold himself together while facing the unthinkable. Aaron waits helplessly at a different hospital. The reader finds herself in the space between life and death with a difficult choice. 

Notes: You have no idea how cool I thought I was to use this title. Anyway, thank you guys so much for the support for season three coming out! I am currently working on part two, but all of part one will be posted in the next few weeks! Keep letting me know what you think! Lots of love- Erin

-

They tried to stop him. Every nurse and doctor on the floor had attempted to prevent him from leaving, as well as his co-workers, but even the bullet hole in his leg couldn’t slow him down. 

Morgan drove while Prentiss directed them to the correct hospital. 

They weren’t even sure it was you. 

Female. Admitted for multiple stab wounds three hours after Hotch was admitted at Saint Sebastian. 

But Spencer knew. Despite all of his logic and all of his reasoning, the feeling in his twisting gut told him that this was it. 

According to what Garcia could find, the patient had been taken into surgery and had been there ever since, trying to repair the damage and loss of blood. 

You could be flatlining right now and he was still limping his way out of the parking lot. 

“Reid, slow down man,” Morgan warned. “If you bust that wound open-”

“I don’t care,” Reid snapped. “Just help me inside.” He put an arm around Morgan’s shoulders and the other agent lifted some of the weight off of Reid’s injured knee without arguing. Morgan wanted to find out just as badly as Reid did, but most of all, he was pissed. 

Foyet had put his credentials on Hotch. 

This was a message for the whole team. 

It said none of them was untouchable.  

“Sir what are you-” A nurse approached the struggling duo, but Prentiss cut her off. 

“We’re looking for a woman admitted under the name Y/F/N Hotchner? She was taken to surgery for multiple stab wounds. We just need to know what’s going on,” she explained. 

The nurse looked at them skeptically. “Are you family?” 

“We’re with the FBI-” Prentiss started, but she cut her off. 

“Miss Hotchner is in no state to be questioned.”

Spencer stepped forward, almost stumbling. 

“I’m her fiance.” 

Prentiss and Morgan glanced at each other in shock. 

Spencer continued. “We work with her brother. He is unable to be here because he was a victim of the same attack, but was taken to a different hospital. Now please,” he begged. “Where is she?” 

Looking into his frantic eyes, she believed him.

“Follow me.” 

The tiled floor seemed to stretch on forever. Every step sent pain up his leg and every second felt like hours. Morgan helped him down the hall until they reached the room. Reid pushed away, using the door frame to hold himself up as his heart sank into his stomach. 

Your skin had gone deathly pale, your eyes were closed, and the heart monitor droned its mocking song back at him. 

“It’s been touch and go for a while now,” the nurse sighed. “She’d lost so much blood by the time anyone found her… the doctors have done everything they can.” 

“Is she going to be okay?” Emily asked, eyes unable to tear away from the sight of you in that bed. She hardly even recognized you, the bruises on your face and the machines attached to your body. 

The nurse gave them a small, but reassuring smile. “We’re doing everything we can.” 

Spencer winced, forcing his feet forward to the chair beside the bed, allowing himself to collapse into it. His hand found yours, nearly pulling away from the shock of your cold skin. 

“We were finally happy again,” he whispered, choking back the sobs threatening to spill over. Spencer let his head fall beside your hand as he cried. 

He didn’t move after that. 

-

You woke up gasping. 

Phantom pains rattled your chest, the image of the knife piercing your stomach still lingering in your mind. But the longer you laid there, eyes slowly adjusting, you realized that you weren’t injured at all. Shapes came into focus. You weren’t in Aaron’s apartment. And you definitely weren’t in a hospital. Wherever you were it was… bright. 

Light streamed in the double glass doors leading onto the back patio. Curtains swayed in the slight breeze coming in through the open window. Even as you blinked with blurred vision, you knew where you were from the cool tile beneath you- a feeling you’d committed to memory the last time you were here. 

Home. 

You bolted upward, kicking your legs to push yourself back into the nearest wall, a scream caught in your throat. 

“This isn’t real. This isn’t real. I’m not here. I can’t be here,” you gasped. 

You checked your torso again, expecting blood and sliced flesh, but there was nothing. Even your shirt was intact. 

“Wait.” You tugged at the teal fabric. “This is what I was wearing when-”

“When you died?” A voice finished for you. “Well, almost.” 

You lifted your gaze and felt like you were being stabbed all over again. 

“T-Tabby?” 

The blonde teenager winked at you. “Surprise.” 

She stepped toward you and you tried to back away, pressing yourself against the wall as you started to hyperventilate.

“Okay, I knew you’d freak out, but I didn’t think it’d be this bad,” she scoffed. “Chill out Girlscout, it’s just me.” 

Girlscout. She was the only person you ever let call you that. She always said it was because you always played by the rules, always worked so hard to prove to everyone you could do it. She teased you, but you knew she really meant it as a compliment. She always rooted for you. She was your best friend. 

“Am I dead?” You asked, voice cracking. 

She opened her mouth to answer, but another presence entered the room. 

“No, sweetheart.” Your mother stood at the top of the stairs. “Not yet.” 

Tabby rolled her eyes. “Could you have phrased that any creepier?” 

Lydia was at the base of the stairs in a blink. 

“Welcome home, Y/N.” She reached a hand out to you. 

You leaped to your feet. 

“Stay away from me.” Your eyes darted between them. “B-both of you.” 

“Great,” Tabby said. “You’ve freaked her out.”

“How did I get here?” Your mind raced as everything came back to you. Every stab, every suppressed scream. Foyet’s laughter. You froze. “Where’s Aaron? Where’s my brother?” 

The last thing you remembered was watching his eyes close, his blood coating the floor beside you. 

“Your brother?” Lydia snapped. “You don’t have a brother. You have me. You only need me.” 

“Seriously, enough with the crazy killer talk,” Tabby groaned, walking toward you. “Believe me, we get it.” She crossed her arms and gave you that look. The look that meant she knew something you didn’t but was dying to tell you. “Ignore her. She doesn’t want you to know.” 

You eyed her, crossing your arms in a similar fashion. “Doesn’t want me to know what?” 

“Tabitha-”

“You have a choice,” Tabby said. “You can wake up or… you can sleep. It’s up to you.” 

Your throat went dry and your heart raced. 

Only, no it didn’t. 

You put a hand to your neck, looking for a pulse. 

It wasn’t beating at all. 

-

JJ hadn’t left Hotch’s side all night. She left only to receive updates from Prentiss and would return trying to keep her expression neutral. 

You were alive. That’s what mattered. 

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” Hotch sighed. He hated that he was stuck in this bed. He should be there, with you. “Pretending like nothing is going on.”

JJ swallowed. “The doctor said that you have to rest and that means staying calm.”

“Jennifer,” Hotch pleaded. “Please. I have to know what’s happening.” 

I’m going to take my time with her, Aaron. I’ll gut her first and then I’ll find someone else to visit. The one that got away from you, huh? 

“JJ,” Rossi stood in the doorway. He gave her a grim nod. “I’ll talk to him.” 

The blonde agent gave Hotch a small smile and left to let his old friend be the bearer of bad news. One look at the older man’s face and Hotch knew. 

“She’s hanging on,” Rossi said slowly, taking the chair beside the hospital bed. “Reid’s with her. He probably busted up his knee again, but even Morgan couldn’t stop him from going.” 

“Where did they find her?” 

Rossi blinked. “Foyet took her to the other side of town. Left her at a bus stop that isn’t part of any night routes so nobody found her until a few hours ago.” He kept his tone level like he was going over the details of any other case. That’s what Aaron needed. The facts. Facts he could hold onto. 

“How many?” Aaron asked. He knew he didn’t have to elaborate.

Dave sighed. “Sixteen.” 

Aaron didn’t say anything. He stared in front of him, outwardly numb but inwardly agonizing. You wouldn’t survive. You couldn’t. He stabbed you sixteen times and left you to rot. The Reaper left you to die. Aaron left you to die. 

“It isn’t your fault, Aaron,” Dave said softly. 

“Don’t.” Aaron shook his head, the image of his little sister gasping on her own blood lingering in his mind. 

Dave pulled the chair up closer. “That’s what Foyet wants you to think. He wants to get in your head. He wants to make sure you never find him.” 

“I know,” Hotch swallowed. 

“We’re going to get him.”

“I know.” 

The two sat for a while, as they often did, not saying anything. Dave knew there was nothing he could say to change the situation, no matter how much he wanted to. Aaron knew there was nothing he could do to save you.

They just had to wait. 

- 

“Great,” Tabby sighed. “Now she’s freaking out.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart.” Lydia held out her arms. 

You stumbled away, fingers still pressed to your silent pulse. Your hand started to shake. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real.”

“Of course, it’s real, Y/N.” Your mother walked towards you. “This is what was always meant to happen.”

“Were you always this creepy?” Tabby scoffed. “I don’t remember you being this creepy.”

Lydia’s head snapped toward the younger woman. “That’s enough.” She held up her hand and Tabby disappeared. 

You couldn’t help but scream. 

The house started to shake. 

“Y/N, you need to calm down,” Lydia said softly. “If you don’t, you won’t get much of a choice.” She took a seat on the couch and motioned for you to join her. “Come on, I want to talk to you.” 

Breathing heavy, scream still lingering on your tongue, you stared at her. 

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” You snapped, keeping to the other side of the room. 

“Plenty, sweetheart.” Lydia motioned again to the seat across from her. “Plenty. Please.” 

You stared at her. Your breath would have caught in your throat, had you really been breathing. She looked the same. Not the way the pictures had shown her on the news. Not the way she’d looked at the trial, all dressed in orange. She wore her favorite sundress and a smile that used to calm your nerves before every big test. 

She looked like your mom. 

You shook your head. 

“No,” you said firmly. “No, I want to get out of here.” 

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that-” Your mother started, but you’d already grabbed onto the latch to the back door. 

But when you swung it open, all you saw was light. 

-

“Hey, kid.” Morgan’s voice pulled Spencer out of his trance. He held a pair of coffees. “Thought you could use some.”

“Thanks,” Spence muttered, rubbing his tired eyes. He turned back to you. “Did they say anything?”

Morgan took the chair across from him on the other side of the bed. “Not since you asked ten minutes ago.” He leaned forward. “She’ll be okay, Spencer.”

“She suffered lacerations to her kidneys, chest, and major arteries.” Spencer repeated the words the doctor had said with equal mechanical distance. “They said she’s lucky to still be alive.”

“Y/N’s a fighter.” Morgan glanced at your face. “She’ll get through this.” He took a long drink of his coffee, the tightness in his chest making it hard to swallow as he thought. She has to. 

Spencer nodded, trying to internalize his team member’s words. “She’ll get through this,” he echoed, his voice holding more emotion now, on the verge of breaking. 

That’s when the flatline hit. 

Spencer’s blood ran cold, his heart sinking down, down, down. 

“Y/N?” He said, gripping your arm tight enough to leave a mark. “Y/N!”

“We need a doctor in here!” Morgan called out. 

Everything he’d ever learned, everything he’d studied left Spencer’s mind like a gushing wound. All that was left was panic. 

“Please,” he begged. He brought your hands to his lips. “No.”

Morgan’s hands found his arms, pulling him back. 

He fought against him, needing to stay by your side despite all of his logic telling him to let the doctors work. They were your chance. Not him. 

“Y/N!” He cried out again. 

His body went limp. Between the pain and the shock, everything just passed in a blur. 

Morgan succeeded in dragging him back and the two stood in horror as the frenzy in front of them fought to keep you alive. 

“Clear!” 

-

You woke up in the same place. The place where you thought you were going to die. 

Gasping, you shot up, eyes scanning the living room over and over again to try and find a change. Something that indicated that you were getting somewhere. 

“I told you it wasn’t a good idea,” your mother chided, sitting in the same spot on the couch she was before. She held out her hand. “Come. Sit.” 

You leaped to your feet and moved as far away as you could, bumping into the bookshelf on the back wall. You knocked over your old ice-skating trophy. 

“I’m not going anywhere near you.”

“Please, don’t you think that’s a little immature, sweetheart?” 

“Stop it.” You ran a hand down your face, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and wake up from this nightmare. “Stop acting like you’re my mother.” With your fists clenched at your sides and took a step forward. “None of this is real.”

“We talked about this already, Y/N. Of course, this is real.”

“You can’t be here. I can’t be here.” You searched for another escape, but all of the windows had the same bright light that consumed you before. 

“You’re thinking about that man you met, aren’t you?” Lydia stood up. Brows drawn together, her lips formed a thin line. “The drug addict?” 

You snapped your head around, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare. You don’t get to talk about Spencer. You don’t get to talk about my life after you tried to destroy it.” 

“I tried to save you. The same way I’m trying to save you now.” Her face softened. “And I think you know that.”

Lydia walked towards you. 

This time, you didn’t back away. 

“I know that you were a broken woman who almost broke me.” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” She reached a hand toward your face. “Why do you think you’re here?” 

You stared blankly at her, an icy chill passing up your spine. “What are you talking about?”

“What was it that you asked that Agent Morgan? To stop you from becoming me by any means, right?” She motioned around you. “This is your chance. This is your way out.” 

You opened your mouth to argue, but found that you couldn’t. 

Maybe this wasn’t about her trying to save you. Maybe this was about you saving everyone else. 

-

Spencer sat at your side once again, looking more like a ghost than a person. He was bent over, holding your hand to his lips, his eyes switching between your face and the heart monitor. He kept hearing that sound. The horrible sound that meant your beautiful heart had stopped beating. 

Derek and Emily stood outside, watching him grimly. 

“They said she’s stable now?” Emily asked. 

He shrugged. “For now. They didn’t tell Reid this, but one of her kidneys is apparently in bad shape. Between the wounds and her past with alcohol…” He trailed off. Just thinking about it made every part of him ache. 

“Do they think she needs a transplant?” 

“They’re checking to see how severe the issue is, but-” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It isn’t looking good.” 

Emily nodded, looking through the glass at Reid’s huddled form. 

He was a husk, the dark circles under his eyes competing with the redness of crying. 

She couldn’t look anymore. 

-

You didn’t know what to say. All of the fear and doubt and self-loathing filled your head like a tap turned on full. And your mother stood in front of you as the embodiment of it all. 

“You don’t belong there, honey,” she said, her tone sweet and sympathetic. “You know that. Why else would you have run away? You don’t want to hurt Spencer or your father’s son.”

“His name is Aaron and he’s nothing like my father.”

Lydia flinched but continued her coaxing voice. “You want to protect them, right? I can help you. You just have to let me.” 

“I don’t want your help.” Your voice shook, almost cracking. “I’m better now. I’m-” You looked down at your finger. It was bare. 

You hadn’t even gotten the chance to get a ring. 

“Can you marry a man you’re afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of Spencer.” 

“Maybe not.” Lydia’s hand covered yours. “But you’re afraid of what you’ll do.” 

You could feel every word sinking into you like claws, raking across your brain until you couldn’t think of anything else, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Alright,” Tabby’s voice returned. She sat on the kitchen counter. “My turn.” 

-

Penelope didn’t know where to go first. Split between two hospitals, she decided to call Derek and check in on Y/N while she visited Hotch. 

“I’ve never wished to be in two places so much in my life,” she said, finding JJ by the vending machine. “But with Morgan and Reid and Emily there, I thought-”

“I’m glad you made it.” JJ pulled her into a hug. To be honest, she was barely holding herself together. 

“How is he?” 

JJ sighed. “Worried.” She ran her fingers through her hair. “But the doctors say she’ll be okay.”

“Derek said that-” Penelope’s words caught in her throat. “He tried to be reassuring, but…”

“I know.” JJ checked around the doorway to make sure Hotch wasn’t listening. He was talking to Rossi. “I called earlier. Prentiss said it doesn’t look good.”

Penelope lifted a hand to her lips to cover a cry. “Who’s going to tell Hotch?” 

Rossi turned his head and saw the grim expression on both women’s faces. He glanced at Hotch. 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He stood and walked over to JJ and Garcia, feeling the unit chief’s eyes burning into the back of his head. 

“Please tell me there’s good news.” 

JJ swallowed. “Not exactly.”

-

Tabby hopped off of the counter. 

Your mother grimaced. “Tabitha…”

“No, you’ve said enough, lady.” She pointed at you. “Now it’s time for a little girl talk.” Tabby skipped over to you like this was just another slumber party, smiling that knowing smile she always did when she wanted you to spill a secret. “I want to hear all about this guy! You’re getting married.”

“I really don’t think now is the time for this,” Lydia said. 

“And I really wanted to go to prom with Tony Bryan,” Tabby snapped, giving her the typical teenage eye roll. “I can’t believe you’re engaged.”

Her enthusiasm was like getting hit with ice water. It pulled you out of the depths Lydia had been dragging you into. As if blinking out of a trance, you smiled. 

“Spencer is great.” For that moment, you almost felt like a kid again, eager to share the details with your best friend. “He’s brilliant and sweet, and… and perfect…” You looked out of that blinding window, realization watching over you. “And he’s waiting for me.” 

“Waiting for a life you can never have together,” Lydia said, cutting in. “Not really. Between your jobs and the danger you’ve already been in since seeing him- how long before it catches up to you? Or to him?”

You lowered your head. 

The Cunninghams. 

The cult in Colorado. 

The anthrax. 

Foyet. 

And those were just the more memorable ones. And then you had support. You had Spencer. You had the team. Now you just felt alone. 

You froze. 

You weren’t alone. 

“Aaron,” you gasped. “Aaron was with me. Aaron was hurt. I have to find out what happened to him.”

Images of blood. The sound of him trying to reassure you. It was all coming back. 

Foyet’s laughter. 

“He let this happen to you. It’s his fault.” Lydia stood up, running her fingers through her hair. She stood rigid and began to pace. Just like she had when you came home cut from the hockey skates. 

A surge of protective anger rushed through you. 

“You don’t get to pin this on my brother. Aaron tried to save me.”

“He is just like his father.” She repeated it over and over again, her pacing seeming to make the whole house shake. 

You turned to Tabby and gave her a small smile. “I know what I want now.”

The front door opened. 

-

You’d gotten back from surgery nearly an hour ago. 

They hadn’t told him much. Just that you needed a transplant and a doner had stepped forward. Now they just had to wait and see if it worked. 

Spencer Reid did not believe in anything beyond the scope of his science and logic and knowledge. But in that moment, he pleaded to you- even though he knew you could hear- he prayed that you would come back. 

“I left you a message, you know,” he whispered. Running his thumb across your knuckles, he memorized every detail, every line in your skin. “When I contracted the anthrax virus. I had Garcia record a message for my mom. And I had her record one for you.” 

Your motionless form didn’t change, the shallow movement of your chest remaining just that. Slow. Short.

“I-” The words died on his tongue. He took a shaking breath. “I wanted you to know how much I loved you, even after everything happened.” Spencer tried to remember the exact message, but all he could think about was a knife cutting through you over and over again. But he knew what mattered from it. “I love you, Y/N. I knew that day that if I survived, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.” A tear slipped down his cheek. “Please don’t leave. Please.” 

If he could have forced his words to heal you, he would have talked until he couldn’t anymore. 

Instead, he cried.

“Don’t tell me those are for me.” 

A soft touch wiped away the tears on his cheek. 

Spencer looked up. 

“Hey, handsome.” You gave him a small, weak smile. “I was hoping you’d be here when I woke up.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he beamed, leaning over to kiss your forehead. 

Just the touch of his lips on your skin sent waves of relief through you. 

You were here. 

You were alive. 

“I knew I had to come back,” you muttered. “I knew I had to get back to you.” 

“And you did.” Tears fell down Spencer’s cheeks and into your hair. “You came back.” Spencer kissed his way down to your lips, every movement as gentle as possible. And despite his soft touch, he held you as if you’d slip away. Like he was praying to keep you this time. 

“What happened?” You asked, finally noticing the crutches leaning against the wall. 

Spencer shook his head. “It’s a long story. A lot happened this week.” He rested his forehead against yours. 

You pulled back suddenly, eyes wide. 

“Where’s Aaron?” You asked. “Where’s my brother?” 

-

Several healing days later

It was too dangerous to move you. The doctors made that very clear and it took Spencer’s pleading to keep you in that bed. Aaron was in the same situation. While you were both stable, your separate care teams insisted that you would both have to wait to see each other. And, despite Spence and everyone's reassurances that you were both okay, it was something you needed to see to truly believe. 

“Here, be careful,” Spence said, helping you into the wheelchair. 

“Don’t you think this is a little ridiculous?” 

“You know what’s more ridiculous? Opening your stitches because you can’t sit still.” He eased you down and kissed the top of your head. “It’s just until we get to the car, okay?”

“If I can walk after we get to the car, I can walk before we get to the car.” 

Spencer put his hands on his hips, tucking his crutches under his arms. “Do you want me to take you to see Hotch or not?” 

You glared up at him, but didn’t argue. You crooked your finger, beckoning him down to you, and pulled him into a kiss. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Emily stood in the doorway, her hand subconsciously resting behind her back over the large bandage on her side. 

You beamed. “There’s my savior! I’ve been wondering if you’d stop by today.”

“Please,” she waved her hand, “what do I need two kidneys for anyway?”

Spencer looked at her over your head and mouthed ‘Thank you.’

When you’d both found out that she had been your mysterious donor, you didn’t know how to thank her. 

She said avoiding any life-threatening situations in the near future would be thanks enough. 

“Are you ready to get out of this place?” She asked. 

You nodded, laughing. The motion made you wince. 

Spencer immediately knelt at your side. “Are you okay? Do we need to stay a little longer? I’ll get the doctor.”

You grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare. I’m not waiting any longer.” 

“What’d I tell you?” Derek chuckled, appearing behind Emily. “She’s a fighter.”

“Someone has to keep you in line.” 

He chuckled and rustled your hair. “Going to see Hotch then?”

You nodded.

“Well he’s been trying to get to you for days, so it’ll be nice for him to not be bossing everyone around for a minute.” Despite his teasing words, you knew he was being genuine. 

They were all just glad you were okay. 

“We should get going,” Spencer said, checking his watch.

You said goodbyes and thanks to both agents and headed on your way, still feeling ridiculous in that damn chair. 

Derek wasn’t kidding. 

When you looked through the window of Aaron’s room, he was pacing, despite Dave scolding him for doing so. 

“She’ll be here any minute. You don’t want to collapse before then, huh?”

“Every minute she’s out there-” Aaron started. He stopped when he locked eyes with you. 

You moved so fast Spencer called after you, worried you’d break a stitch. 

Aaron met you halfway and took you in his arms. You held each other as tightly as your matching injuries would allow. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into your hair. “I’m so sorry.” 

You pulled back, putting your hands on his cheeks. “Don’t start. None of this was your fault.”

He stepped back, opening his mouth to argue. 

“Aaron.” The tone of your voice stopped him. 

He blinked back tears and pulled you back into his embrace. 

After a moment, you parted, but he kept a hand on your arm like you’d vanish if he stopped holding some part of you. 

“I have to ask,” Dave stepped forward with a grim expression. “What were you doing over at Aaron’s place when we got back? I thought you two were back on again.” 

Aaron’s face morphed, wondering the same thing. 

You gave both of them a small smile. 

“That's what I was going to tell you.” You took Spence’s hand. “We’re getting married.” 

Aaron’s eyes widened. 

Dave cheered and pulled Reid into a fatherly hug. 

“That’s…” Aaron’s eyes welled. “That’s amazing.” 

He pulled you into another embrace and shook Spencer’s hand. 

For a moment, it was alright again. 

But then, you took a breath. 

“Alright, gentlemen.” Crossing your arms, you remembered what Tabby said to you. The message she left you with before you stepped out of the door. “Let’s catch this bastard.”

-

I always forget tag lists, so please let me know if I missed you!

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt;  hereforsmutbcicantgetenough;  violetbossler;  hyper-half-blood;  i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48;  @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird; @pleasantwitchgarden

[summercreolefanfictioner]

is it still kacchako week or am i too late already? hmmm might as well share a new playlist tho (if you have suggested songs, pls lemme know)

kacchako slowburn vibes

"white roses mean i'm the one for you"

"Ochako."

She didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to face this gnawing truth after everything she did to bury it ever since their third year in UA. Izuku was right when he confirmed it to her years ago, but there was no way she was going to admit it out loud. It might cost her sanity, depending on the outcome.

So she ran away, with Katsuki's heart in her hands because he gave them to her a long time ago.

"Ochako..." His voice was a lot softer, gentler, a complete contrast to his sharp features and unruly behavior. She could feel herself crying at the intensity of them. "Please..."

When she reached the balcony, she knew that her only option was to touch her face with both hands and fly to God knows wherw Bakugou Katsuki won't be able to follow her. I can't take this anymore. This is too much for my heart to bear. She was just about to do that when he suddenly grabbed her wrists, reaching her just in time before she could slip from his fingers again.

"Ochako--"

"... Why?" she bellowed, frustration slowly rising in her tone along with her defeat because she couldn't escape him. Izuku had always told her Katsuki will come back for her even if she ran away from him multiple times.

"'Why?', you ask?" he repeated for her, observing how she was pained enough to look away from him.

He didn't want to scare her, so he opted for leaning towards her with a few inches of space between them, whispering hotly in her ear. She could get a faint scent of burnt caramel in him when he asked:

"Are you hurting that much because of my feelings for you?"

That startled her, looking up at him to see how he was struggling with all this chasing around for 6 to 7 years. Bakugou Katsuki wasn't a patient man. Whenever he doesn't get what he wanted, he'd do anything to have them in a span of seconds or force the shit out of it. But Uraraka Ochako was a different story. For her, he'll be a saint. He'll be a good man. He'll be patient enough to wait until she's ready to accept her feelings.

Even if it meant going mad at this whole affair.

"Are you scared of what they'll say about you?" he asked a different question. After all, Uravity has a cute and kind image and DynaMight wasn't exactly complimenting it with his unruly nature. What would her supporters say about her if they find out?

Ochako was only silent, overwhelmed by a lot of things, and her mind could only tell her, "I want him. I've wanted him for so long. I've needed him so bad it hurts."

"Do you want me to go?" he asked his final question. Katsuki had to lay all his cards right there, because he had to say his truth. This was endless, and it had to stop or he'll explode.

Ochako could feel him slipping away, his hands letting go of her wrists as he walked back to the hall to join the others. Before he could do so, she ran towards him in fear. He can't disappear despite everything. This was a separation she wouldn't allow.

Katsuki felt her hands on his arm and the next thing, they were both floating mid-air, the desperation and anxiety mixed on her face was evident. He had never seen her make that face before, not especially for him. And when she leaned towards him, he gladly accepted her lips in a soft, searing kiss.

They were officially gone.

[thelovelyruin]

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : toji x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’ve been cheating on toji with his best friend while he’s away on business.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, angst, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, love, cheating, manipulation, teasing, fingering, edging.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 3.5K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from pretty by the weeknd.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it, if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

You will never feel this pretty, and you will never feel this beautiful, when I make it there.

You’ve been looking back and forth between your phone screen and the terminal for the past ten minutes, awaiting his arrival. Anticipation overtakes you, happy to see him after all these months. Another project, he says, but all you hear is another period of loneliness. Fortunately, Gojo told him he’d take good care of you. Well, he surely did. Much, much more than he was supposed to. How long has it been now? 2 months? All you know is that this little fling didn’t start immediately after Toji left for France, despite Gojo giving obvious signs of romantic and sexual attraction. You fought the urges as long as you could, until one night when you missed Toji a little too much, at least that part of him that could satisfy your sexual greed. And who was there? Who didn’t leave you for months at a time, with nothing to hold but the pillow that held his scent? Unfortunately for Toji, that scent was fading, and that lust was growing. You remember that first night, it had been raining particularly hard, due to a hurricane passing through.

“I don’t think you should drive in this weather, it’s raining cats and dogs out there.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’ll take your couch for the evening then.”

Expectations can kill a simple man, a simple woman.

It wouldn’t hurt right? It’s not like you two were sleeping in the same bed together. Until you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night, and Gojo was just so conveniently awake. Skin on skin, sweat on sheets, you two couldn’t get enough of each other. Endless nights of defiling the bed you and Toji once shared. You really felt bad when you’d get a text from Toji first thing in the morning, telling you he misses you, he hates the time difference, and how bad he’s trying to finish up work to get back home to you. You’d go to the balcony and call him, Gojo still sound asleep in your bed. Toji would tell you all about the sights he’s been able to see and the foods he’s been able to indulge in, and it hurts particularly bad when he’d send you pictures. Like the one he took in front of the Eiffel Tower, or the one in front of the Louvre, or the ones he sends you when he stays up till 4 AM to have phone sex with you. And he lives for those calls, waiting patiently and forcing himself to stay awake, while you were, well, what were you doing? Arguing with Gojo, of course. You knew you should’ve ended things the second he told you he wanted you to break up with Toji.

I try to master the art of that far away love.

“How can you say you love him if I'm railing you every other night, huh? That doesn’t sound like love at all, but you don’t give a fuck, do you? As long as you get your rocks off, you don’t care who you hurt.”

“Oh, you’ve got some nerve, fucking your best friend’s girlfriend. Don’t think you’re a goddamn saint, Satoru. You act like I told you to catch feelings for me. I mean, what did you think was gonna happen? I’d leave Toji, and me and you would run off and get married and have a little house on the hill with a white picket fence and a nuclear family? Give me a fucking break. I told you from the beginning this was just sex.”

But that argument was days ago, and you hadn’t talked to him since. The distance between the two of you really opened your eyes to what you had done, and things became so real when you got that call from Toji telling you he was finally coming home.

I've been living on the road and you've been living all alone, at home.

"Hey babe, know you’re probably workin, but I got good news. The project’s wrappin up and I get to come home. Be in tomorrow night, Gate C, 11 PM."

Attached was a photo of his boarding pass, which caused your emotions to crumble you down and swallow you whole. Running around for the past few months with another man, and now here Toji was, plane landed, and you were waiting for him at the gate. Like a good girl.

As long as you know that when I land you’re mine.

You peer out the car window and finally see him walking out, you could’ve sworn it was a mirage. He wore that sweater he knows you love so much, muscles stretching the fabric, with a pair of black jeans to match. The moment he laid his eyes on you, he began to rush towards you. You give him a wide smile, opening your arms as he brings you into a full embrace, nuzzling your face in his chest and neck. You took in his scent, tobacco and a musky cologne, the scent was intoxicating. He loosens his grip on you so he could get a good look at your face and of course, you’re crying. What type of girlfriend would you be if seeing him after all these months didn’t bring you to tears? Gently, he wipes them away, kissing you softly with a hand on the back of your neck, pulling away to meet his lustful eyes. With a quick sweep, he picks up his bags, walking to your driver’s door to open it for you, then to the trunk to put them in. As you get into the car, you notice you’ve gotten a text from Gojo, which you don’t even bother to read, just switching your phone to silent and swiping away the notification. Toji opens the passenger door, startling you out of your mission to pretend Gojo doesn’t exist. You give him a weak smile and turn the car on, putting your phone in the cup holder. He comes over the seat to give you a kiss, buckling his seatbelt and putting his hand on your thigh. All of a sudden, you’re touch deprived and that damn hand is the stimulus you needed, the itch Gojo you can't scratch. You drive the car and attempt to act as normal as possible, head flowing into overload with all these emotions. Lust, regret, love, guilt, the list goes on as Toji gives you a concerned look.

“What’s up baby? Look like you’re thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’.”

Then, it all hits you. Toji didn’t deserve this. Here he is, being the good boyfriend he always was, while you drown your sorrows in another man. To say the most while saying the least, you were a goddamn whore. You knew it, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from pretending that things never happened.

“Yeah, baby. I’m alright, just happy to see you is all.”

“Yeah? You missed me-”

'Cause I see fear in your eyes. You've been living out your life.

The two of you are interrupted by your cell phone screen illuminating the cup holder. Toji reaches down to grab it and your fucking life flashes before your eyes. Was this it? The moment you’d been putting off? The inevitable? You give a small sigh as Toji reads the notification, and you feel your heart sink when his smile fades a bit.

“Gojo wants to know if you’re still mad at him? You guys get into an argument about something?”

“Um, yeah. Nothing too crazy, just over who was gonna pick you up from the airport.”

“Why would you guys be going back and forth about that?”

“Well, he didn’t think I should be out this late, but I insisted because I wanted to see you as soon as possible.”

“Oh okay. Looks like you got your way huh?”

Girl, I hope he made you satisfied.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Then, you give him one of those saccharine smiles, acting like nothing was wrong. The car ride went normally after that, the radio playing softly in the background as Toji went on about the project he was working on. But you, you were spaced the fuck out. Mind blank as you revel in the comedown of the fear you’ve been accumulating for so long. You were snapped out of your haze when you felt Toji’s hand begin to move upwards, his lustful eyes on you like a wolf that needs to satisfy its hunger. Your breath hiccups as his hand travels beneath your jeans, starting to rub your mound through your panties. He does it painfully slow, obviously teasing you, noticing the way your eyes start to flutter and your skin is getting warmer. And you think you’re gonna go crazy, as he picks up the pace just to take his hand away. Toji then gives you one of those little chuckles he does when he knows he’s got you all worked up, smirking and getting comfortable in his seat, trying to pretend that you don’t see that tent in his pants getting higher. Finally, thank god, you think to yourself as you arrive at your apartment. Toji gets out of the car and walks to your door, giving you his hand to climb out of the seat. He gives you a little kiss on your forehead, then proceeds to get his bags out the trunk. You begin to mentally prepare yourself for what’s about to come. You’re practically edging yourself with thoughts of finally getting touched by your boyfriend again. You unlock the door to your apartment and you both walk in, locking the door behind you. In one fell swoop, Toji dropped the bags and pinned you to the back of the door, lips taking your mouth like a starving man. You moan into the kiss when he pulls your legs up to wrap around his waist, hands supporting your lower back as he carries you to your bedroom.

Somebody told me it was pointless for me to come back into your arms.

With a swift motion, Toji lays you back onto the bed, towering over you as he begins to take his top off and unbuckles his belt, throwing it to the floor. His hands, calloused and warm, begin to undress you starting with your shirt, taking the time to kiss your chest as he pulls it over your head. And as your arms fall back down, he’s already on you, feverishly sucking and biting the skin of your breasts, snaking a hand behind your back to free them from their captivity. As your breasts fall out the bra, he takes a nipple into his mouth, massaging the other in a way that has you mewling soft moans into the air. 

But only so much can keep a woman warm.

Toji finds his way down your body, kissing and licking the skin of your torso as his fingers hook under your pants. He pulls them down fast, then comes down to your panties, which are having a hard time covering how obviously wet he’s made you. But he’s not gonna give you what you want quite yet, instead leaving hickies up and down your thighs as he sees you bucking your hips into the air, practically begging to be touched. He gives a sly smirk as he brings his lips to hover over the fabric of your thong, taking in your scent that he’s missed for so long. A thumb comes up to rub your clit through the fabric, making you squirm and plead for him. Once he’s satisfied with how frustrated he’s made you, he pulls your panties off, coming once more to your clit, giving it a soft lick. His eyes are on you now, and he thinks you look so fucking pretty for him. All hot and bothered, wrapping your fingers in his hair and attempting to push his face down.

And he can't make you feel this pretty. No he won't make you feel this beautiful.

Toji brings his lips to yours, beginning to eat you. His tongue works its way in and out of your pussy, nose rubbing against your clit. His arms come up to wrap around your thighs, keeping you in place as he devours you like a mad man. And you swear head has never felt this good, the way he’s eating you, no, consuming you, Gojo’s tongue could never compare. And you make him so happy when you pull at his hair, riding his face as he brings his fingers up to explore your pussy. His fingers pump in and out of you at a rate that drives you crazy, making that feeling build up inside you. Toji knows your body all too well, time hasn’t gotten in the way of his knowledge at all, cause he sees that pretty face you’re making when you’re trying to contain yourself, and the way your mouth opens into an O as his fingers find that special spot inside of you. You’re begging, praying, he lets you cum and doesn’t decide to edge you. Your eyes meet him as you whisper to him that you’re about to cum, that fire inside you about to go ablaze. There he goes, smirking again, sucking harder and faster, picking up the pace as you melt against him.

“So then, cum for me baby.”

And with that, your body betrays you, that feeling you tried so hard to contain snaps and you’re seeing fucking stars, gushing cum on his fingers, saturating his lips with the juices he’s craved for so long. The wave crashes, the cup spills, and you’re putty in his hands, moaning his name out into the room so beautifully that he swears he might die. He brings himself up to get a good look at you, wiping his face of your essence. You look so god damn sexy, the light of his life, the fire in his loins. You were just so goddamn perfect. Toji’s good girl.

We've been living in a cold, cold world, a cold world.

You’re watching him with anticipation, it feels like he’s taking years to undo that damn zipper. And just as you're seconds away from ripping his pants off, he’s stripped them off and thrown them to the floor, his boxers shortly behind. You’re practically in awe of him, physique on full display, everything from his chest to his, well, your one way ticket to a second orgasm. He’s back on you now, kissing your neck and leaving love bites as he positions himself. You’re driving him crazy, the scent of you, the look of you, the feel of you, as he slips inside you slowly. He feels your hands come up to his back, nails digging into the skin there as you brace yourself for his shaft, reveling in the feeling of being stretched open again. To be fair, it’s not like Gojo didn’t have good dick. It just wasn’t Toji’s, wasn’t even in the same fuckin ballpark. 

But at least I have you to rely, even if for a short time.

Toji pushes inside you fully now, groaning in your ear as he begins to fuck you slowly. The slow strokes are sending you into oblivion, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Once he’s satisfied that he’s prepared you enough, he picks up the pace, breathing on your neck and whimpering as you take him oh so well. And he feels like your pussy was made for him when he pulls out to slam his hips back into you again, and you're screaming out his name like your life depends on it. You can’t bear to look at him when he gives you that look, like he’s gonna take you, take everything you have and you’ll give it to him, because you're his and you know it. No man will ever make you feel the way Toji does, not when he’s rutting his hips into you at a threatening rate, pulling whimpers out of you left and right. Then, there’s that goddamn look on his face again, because he knows he’s fucking you so hard and so good that you’ll be his and his only. Fuck anyone else, he was fucking you here and now, and there’s that feeling again, body craving to cum all over him. He knows you’re close, and like clockwork his thumb comes down to your clit, rubbing it to take you higher and higher. You’re losing your goddamn mind. So many months of wanting, needing, yearning, for Toji’s touch and here it was, lulling you into a haze, mind all fuzzy from your inherent need to cum. With a couple of deep thrusts, he’s got you right where he wants you. You throw your head back into the pillow, arching your back and scratching the skin on his shoulder, trying to find something to grip on as your body cums for him. You’re spent, giving him everything you have to give, singing his name like a lullaby that’s pushing him right where he needs. He’s moaning and groaning like crazy, hand gripping the headboard as he loses himself in your pussy. It’s like a firecracker for him, cumming in the pussy he’s missed for so long, hearing your squeals as he cums inside you. His body falls over yours, careful not to hurt you, then falling to your side, gasping for air. The two of you are a sticky, sweaty mess, cum surely all over the sheets. In that moment, you forget. You forget your regret, your sorrow. You forget the cheating. You forget your mistake. You forget Satoru Gojo.

There are certain things that I've come to understand.

Toji pulls you into his embrace, nuzzling your face against his chest and wrapping your arm around him. As he pulls the covers over the two of you, all you can think about is ending things with Gojo. You knew what you wanted and it was Toji. Who else would hold you like him? Satisfy your cravings? Surely not his best friend. And as you feel his hand begin to rub your back, you feel yourself drifting away, into a plane of existence where there’s only you and Toji, and nothing could ever compare to the feeling of his love washing over you.

“I know you fucked Satoru.”

The words you never wanted to hear. A wave of guilt washes over you, pulling you under the water where you're damned to accept the consequences of your actions. You freeze, unsure of what to do or say next. Surely you won’t bring your eyes up to look at him. How could you? You knew you couldn’t bare to see the hurt expression on his face when you actively admit to fucking the person he entrusted to take care of you in his absence.

“He sent you that text earlier, nearly lost my shit when I read it.”

“Toji, I-”

“Wanna know what he said? He said ‘I know you’re probably still upset with me, but I’d be lying if I said I didn't miss you, especially that pussy.’ I can’t make this shit up.”

Said you fucked another man, finally I knew this day would come.

“How long?”

“Two months.”

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me. Do you want him?”

“I, I, um-”

“Answer me, do you fuckin want him?”

“Toji! Of course not, the only man I love is you. He was just, just a thing to fill the void. I promise, it just happened, I never wanted to hurt you!”

 But baby, I won’t cry.

Toji groaned, bringing his hand to his face in defeat. You were crying now, straight word vomit, saying anything to get him to forgive you. But you know you fucked up. You fucked up bad. And now Toji is gonna leave you. Leave everything you’ve built together, all because you couldn’t keep your legs closed while he was gone. But, despite his anger, he brings a hand up to your face to wipe your tears, arm slinking around your waist as he pulls you back down to his chest, letting out a deep sigh.

“Just please tell me you won’t see him anymore and I promise I won't leave you for that long again. But cheat on me again and we’re fuckin over.”

“I won’t, Toji. I promise.”

"Quand une putain de colombe chante sa chanson, c'est tout ce qu'on entend. Les jours défilent comme de la ficelle dans le vent. Embobiné dans ma toile, je les dévoile à nouveaux. Souffrant d'un cœur brisé. Une douleur très profonde. C'est là où je l'ai aperçue. Seule.”

𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 : “When a fucking white dove sings its song, that's all we hear. The days roll by string in the wind. Tangled into my web I reveal them again. Suffering from a broken heart. A very deep pain. This is where I saw her. Alone.”

♱ the song used in this story is pretty by the weeknd. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[vulpine111]

Prayers this morning!

---

Dear Saint Expedite,

Thank you for everything.

Thank you for the money and opportunities you've delivered, and whatever else is coming my way. Please guide me to more ways to show my thanks besides this candle and recognizing you publicly.

It is such a relief my ability to work is improving, that more people are stepping in to assist me, and I don't have to worry about how I will come up with the $ for moving fees in a year. You are such a kind, understanding saint.

I am touched by the grace you've shown in this intercession. Please inspire me the best way to pay it forward and share my good fortune and health.

I would love to volunteer a few hours a week when I finally save up for a vehicle. While I save for transportation, please help me choose the best place to help out. I want to do this in your honor.

Please help me find flowers to thank you. I read you love beautiful bouquets. Instead of letting them die on my altar, I will give them to my Grandmother and encourage her to pray with you as well!

I will share your name with anyone who wishes to improve their circumstances somehow and is open to your messages.

Thank you again for the beautiful changes in my life. I look forward to each and every day. I can honestly say my life is worth celebrating. I wish I had more and sufficient words to show my gratitude!

---

Mother Mary,

I wish to honor you as well.

Please intercede on my behalf and break all curses, hexes, etc directed at me. Please return all ill will back to sender; may all my enemies (known and unknown) taste their own venom.

Please protect me, and please show me how to bless and celebrate the people meant to be in my life. I want to nurture their intellects and creativity and inspire them, just like the Holy Spirit does for me no matter how often I stumble on my path.

---

Guardian Angel Raphael,

Thank you for the healing you've given me.

Please help me continue to heal and even help others heal too. May the inner fire of anyone who still loves me shine so so so bright!

I wish to grow into a more patient and compassionate soul. Please honor my intentions and shape me into a sweeter, more gentle man.

[or0ch1maru]

akatsuki members reaction to reader who wears orthopedic leg braces and walks with crutches // or a disability in general!!

High key love this! One thing about me is I’m stuck in knee braces at least 6 days out of the week😭

•

I’m also gonna preface this by saying I feel like each member of the akatsuki would carry you around so if I don’t mention it under someone’s name, just know they’d still do it🥺I try not to sound so repetitive!

🏮Tobi

•he wouldn’t let you walk around, you’d be on his back 24/7 or being carried around in bridal style. Tobi would want you to rest your pretty legs, only letting you get up and walk around when it’s absolutely necessary or when you need to stretch.

•constant leg and foot massages. He would also be so gentle with you, makes sure that you never turn or bend your leg in a way that would cause pain or discomfort.

🏮Zetsu

•he would trail along behind you everywhere you go to make sure you don’t fall or wobble. If his hand isn’t on your lower back, it would be holding onto your elbow or bicep

•never ever complains if you take too long to walk somewhere or do something, has the patience of a saint. Would step in at any moment to help you if he feels or notices you having trouble with something

🏮Itachi

•do I really need to say anything about Tachi? He’s so sweet and patient. Always makes sure you have your braces on correctly and never on too tightly or too loosely. If you take any form of medication(painkillers, etc) he would carry some on his person so if you two aren’t near your room he just slips the pills into your mouth

•even if you two don’t go out on small adventures into town often(he doesn’t want you to get hurt/fall/or over exert yourself) he’ll make sure that you’re happy and having fun at the compound. Even if that means movie nights multiple times a week or simply sitting outside in the garden for a few hours

🏮Kisame

•just like Tobi, this man would REFUSE for your feet to touch the ground. Would definitely prefer the piggy back method, enjoy the warmth and closeness when he feels your arms around his neck and your thighs against his sides. Constantly asks if you’re okay and if you’re comfortable

•this man’s hands are MASSIVE so you know damn well those massages would feel like absolute heaven. Takes his time with it too, starts at your hips and travels down towards your feet, making sure to cover every single spot

🏮Hidan

•I’ve mentioned this before but I truly believe this sadistic babe has a soft spot. Especially towards his s/o or someone he really really cares for. May have a hard time voicing his feelings or concerns so most of the time he’ll randomly start massaging your legs/hips even if that means scooping you up and taking you to your room or his

•if and when you two go out into town and people give you weird looks, he won’t hesitate to make them know he won’t tolerate that behavior. Would probably make someone go blind if they don’t take his first warning seriously(who am I kidding? He’ll make that happen. No second thoughts about it unless you tell him not to. He’ll go to the ends of the earth for you)

🏮Kakuzu

•if his hands are preoccupied, he’ll make use of his tendrils, wether that means tying you up(in a comfortable position of course) or tracing circles over your legs(if you’re sensitive to the touch and any pressure causes pain)

•I believe this man runs HOT, not warm. (I always prefer heat for my achy muscles and knees) so if one spot on your leg is sore, he’ll rest his hand on there for as long as you need. His massages feel immaculate because of all that warmth. Your muscles will loosen up and thank you for it

🏮deidara

•keeps an array of items in his room; bedside table, box under the bed, or on the headboard. Painkillers? Right here love. Ice pack? Has a mini fridge in his room close to the bed for this exact reason. Heated blanket? Let me tuck you in darling. Extra leg braces or spare crutches? Safe and secure in this box right here.

•just like Hidan, deidara threatens people with his bombs if they look at you or make an offhand comment about you. For some reason I could see him sitting you down on a bench and borrows your crutch to beat some sense into someone. Then apologize profusely for damaging it. Carrying you home on his back, spitting out I’m sorry’s left and right until you reassure him that it’s okay and you thought it was rather entertaining

🏮Sasori

•with his skills as an artist I imagine Sasori working day in and day out to make custom, state of the art braces/crutches for you. Even makes sure to put a little signature of his on there somewhere so you have a piece of him anywhere you go(literally would never happen. He would make sure you two are never separated, even when you go to the bathroom)

•^if you need help with much more private matters(baths, showers, using the bathroom) he’d be more than happy to help you. Would stand outside the door as a body guard and to be there when you call for him. Baths are his favorite. Will sit in the tub with you, gently rubbing the soap into your skin and hair. Also has an assortment of bath salts and oils. All made specifically for pain!

🏮Konan

•just like what i said in my post about the reader wearing a mask, she would totally add stickers to your crutches or braces(wouldn’t do anything that would make them not work or cause them to malfunction) wants you to never feel ashamed or as if you’re a burden to her. Constantly reassures you that you’re everything to her and that she loves you. Spending her life loving every minute she’s able to take care of you

•makes an origami butterfly that sits on your brace. If she happens to be in another room, the butterfly she gave you is made specifically to alert her if you need help. Would coming RUNNING into the room. You okay baby? What do you need? You’re hungry? Here give me a moment to prepare your favorite meal but in the meantime, snack on these. Says this as she hands you your favorite treats from a kit under her bed.

🏮pain

•has baby proofed his room, not in the sense he thinks you’ll do something purposely to yourself but with him being the busy man he is, he’d never forgive himself if you tripped over a shoe or a random book on the ground of his room when he wasn’t home. Would have had you move straight into his room, doesn’t even want to think about you alone in a different room, why do that when you can be safe and sound in his room.

•so protective of you it’s not even funny. He sees you as an angel sent from above. Something so sweet and soft in the world full of hate and war. Never ever makes his work interfere with you and his time with you. Puts your needs before his, doctors appointments? You’re there 30-45 minutes early, your old brace broke? He’s ordering you at least 4 spares. Pain is also the type to fluff your pillow before putting them under your legs when you need the rest

🏮Orochimaru

•with his intelligence and experimenting, I could see him researching into your disability/injury and finding a cure. Even if it’s something that’s ‘incurable’ he’d make one. Even if it takes a long time. He would do it. He would do anything for you.

•since he’s mostly working or preoccupied in his lab/office, he would of made an entire area for you. Bed and everything. Loves being able to be right there if you need anything, and truly finds peace and comfort looking up from his work and seeing you comfortable in his space.

🏮i wholeheartedly believe that none of the akatsuki would be judgmental towards you, no matter what ailment, or disability you may have. They would love and cherish you🖤

[dcyllom]

What's Your Name?

Hey @lovememadly92, merry Christmas!! I'm your secret santa for the hbowar fic exchange! I'm sorry this is a few days late but I had some major technical difficulties with the Google Doc I was writing on which stopped me from posting earlier. There's also going to be another part to this that I'm still trying to recover, so I'm sorry for the wait 😅 🎄 

Request: one of the men falling in love with an SOE agent and vice versa for either enemies to lovers or friends to lovers.

Pairings: Lewis Nixon x OFC (Rosemary Young)

I hope you like this, Merry Christmas! :)

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A branch snapped. Rosie stiffened, glancing around the clearing she was in. There was a rustling to her left, perhaps ten metres away. 

A voice called out, shaky in the uncertainty of the night. “Flash!”

Rosie exhaled sharply, relief flooding her body before answering in kind. “Thunder.” There was a pause after she spoke, followed by hurried whispers, as the Americans she’d been addressing registered the feminine tone of her voice. 

She waited patiently. Branches were pushed apart as a face streaked with black appeared, eyes shining in the moonlight under thick brows. Rosie and the man stared at each other, before the quiet was broken by a nasal voice. 

“Hey Lieutenant, can we move out? My foot’s cramping.” The Lieutenant glanced behind him, one brow raised, before shifting forwards. Several khaki-clad figures holding rifles stepped out cautiously, all aiming their guns at her head. There were four of them, with eagles emblazoned on their jackets. 101st Airborne, then. Just who she was looking for.

Rosie spoke as reassuringly as she could. “Bonjour, les Américains. I am with the French Resistance, and have been ordered to aid the Americans with their landings for Operation Overlord. I have a message for your Colonel Sink.” She knew her French accent was impeccable, but she didn’t like how it made the man in front of her grin so smugly.

The Americans looked between each other for a moment. Rosie caught movement in her peripheral vision, seeing a young, clearly uneasy Private on the left of the rag-tag group of soldiers fiddling with the safety catch of his gun. The Lieutenant noticed her gaze move, and followed her line of sight.

“Put the damn gun down, Penkala. She look like a Kraut to you?”

Rosie let her shoulders relax as Penkala lowered the gun, and the Lieutenant strode forward, hand outstretched and smirking. “Pleasure to meet you, miss. I’m Lieutenant Nixon, intelligence officer with the 101st Airborne.” Well, that explained the smug grin. This officer had likely been briefed on the SOE agents who would be joining their little adventure back in England. He had a smooth, self-assured voice, and was clearly well-educated. He also happened to be quite handsome, and he looked like he knew it too if the gleam in his eye was anything to go by.

Rosie gripped his hand firmly and shook it, hoping the flush in her cheeks would go unnoticed in the low light. “Call me Thérèse. You are five miles from your drop zone, Lieutenant Nixon. I have been searching for your men and your Colonel for the better part of the night.”

“Well, mind telling us where we actually are, Thérèse? We’re in a bit of a hurry.” His tone was light, but Rosie heard an edge to it all the same. Her mouth thinned. 

“Take out your map, Lieutenant, and I will show you where you are.” Nixon looked a bit ruffled at the change in her attitude, but did what she asked all the same, pulling the scarf from around his neck. Rosie watched curiously as he shook it out, and then shone her flashlight on the silk to reveal a detailed map of Omaha and Utah beach, and the surrounding countryside. 

The other Americans crowded around them at the behest of their Lieutenant, and she pointed to a point just east of a little French village on the outskirts of Saint-Marie-du-Mont, the silk slippery under her finger. The Lieutenant swore under his breath, something Rosie privately thought the village of Pouppeville did not deserve. The words drawn from his superior’s lips also caused Private Penkala to look at him askance, twisting his shocked face to stare very hard at Rosie with beseeching eyes in what she assumed was supposed to be an apology on Nixon’s behalf. He needn't have bothered. Rosie’s good opinion of Lieutenant Nixon had not been very high to begin with anyway.

The trek to Drop Zone C, where the paratroopers she was accompanying were meant to have landed before hell opened up on them, was made quick by Rosie’s knowledge of the hedgerows they were skirting around. To his credit, Lieutenant Nixon did not question her competence as she led them through the Normandy fields, but he did tail annoyingly close, his arm brushing her shoulder occasionally. Rosie would’ve been tempted to stop abruptly so he would run into her back, if the commotion wouldn’t have put them at risk of alerting any nearby Germans. Rosie cast a look at Nixon, only to find him already staring at her and unnervingly close. But before she could do more than lift an eyebrow they heard noises from the hedgerow on the opposite side of the road they were on. 

Nixon held up a hand and the Americans were silent, watching, waiting, to see if they’d been spotted. Rosie crept forward, only to be stopped by a hand grasping her wrist. She gritted her teeth and wrenched her arm out of Nixon’s grip, moving silently across the road to lie in the ditch just in front of the hedge. Rosie reached behind her, aware of the brown eyes burning a hole in her skull, and pulled out her pistol before shifting forwards to peer through a small hole in the leaves. 

A few tired looking Wermarcht soldiers were walking along the path, talking quietly amongst themselves as they came back from what must have been a patrol.

She turned around slowly, meeting Lieutenant Nixon’s frantic eyes, and held up her fingers to show the number of Germans there were. The Lieutenant motioned something to her, but he was using US Army hand signals and was therefore being quite useless. She could see him mouthing ‘Thérèse’ at her, but she ignored him, throwing up a hand to halt any movement the Americans might make. She took aim, and fired, dropping the German closest to her with a neat shot to the head, before taking out the other two in quick succession. They barely even had time to shout in pain and shock, unaware of their fate due to the silencer attached to her pistol.

Only the crickets buzzing in the grass could be heard for a fraught second, before a loud “What the fuck!” came from the nasally soldier, who was apparently called Liebgott. Rosie slipped back to the Americans, stuffing her pistol in her pocket, only to be met by Lieutenant Nixon’s slack jaw.

His gaze became tense, hands flexing at his side. “Don’t take a risk like that again. Let us handle it. It’s our job.”

She stared at him. “It is also mine, and that I am far more experienced at this than you, Lieutenant. I would expect an intelligence officer to already know this, but apparently not. Now follow, unless you want me to leave you at the hands of the next Germans who decide to wander through here.” She walked away, leaving the disgruntled but mollified soldiers to trail in her wake towards the sounds and conversation of the American base.

Rosie earned a lot of sideways glances as she strode through the crowd of soldiers, with their harsh accents and loud voices. Eventually, however, just when she was losing hope that she’d ever find an officer amongst the men scattered around the Normandy village where they’d set up a base, Lieutenant Nixon surged forwards from behind her to greet a harried but kind  looking man who made himself known as Captain Hester, and Rosie was able to leave the aggravating Lieutenant behind in order to find Colonel Sink.

But, before she could slip into the crowd, a hand wrapped itself around her wrist once again and she was pulled back to face Lieutenant Nixon.

“Hey, Thérèse, before you run off–” He stopped as she attempted to rip her arm out of his hold, but he’d clearly expected this as he simply adjusted his grip as she glared at him.

“Before you run away, I wanted to say thanks.” Rosie stayed silent, not trusting herself to speak. For a moment, he didn’t speak either, just looked at her. “Your name’s not really Thérèse, is it?”.

Rosie’s answering smile was smug.

“What’s your name?” Nixon pressed.

“Call me Rosie, Lieutenant Nixon. My apologies, but I really must be going. I have a job to do,” and with that she slipped out of his loosened grip and darted through the mess of soldiers, dodging as she went and ignoring the shout from Nixon after her

“Hey, hey! Is that even your real name?!”

But Rosie had already vanished into the night.

[bengiyo]

Dangerous Romance Ep 11 Stray Thoughts

Last week, we watched Kanghan’s dad death flag like a mofo when he went to his son’s game and asked Sailom to do some more emotional work with his son on his behalf. Later, he got shot in his house and almost bled out. Saifah took the blame for it, though it’s probably Name, who is getting punked by his boss. Kanghan broke up with Sailom because of it, and Sailom is refusing help from literally everyone to get his brother out (which makes no sense because he’s fucking broke and should know better). Sailom got roofied by the old guy from before and had to be saved by Kanghan. Guy and Nawa made progress, but that felt tonally off from everything else going on.

Now why the fuck does Sailom think he has to quit school? I’m so sick of this. Where is episode 1 and 2 Sailom?

Oh my fucking goodness he’s fucking quitting school because his scholarship comes from Kanghan’s dad. FFS.

I hate this so much. Why did we waste so much talent on this mess?

Saifah you told this man literally nothing useful. What the fuck did you expect him to do?

Name is definitely lying.

Now they are literally shooting at Sailom. WTF???

Now, Kanghan, if you cared about this boy why would you let him leave the school?

Why is so much effort being expending on killing Sailom that they needed to add in a useless interaction with the police?

“I thought I had no one left?” Sailom, please be fucking serious. Literally the entire supporting cast has been begging you to let them help you. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are we flashing back to Kanghan caring for him and not all the other times everyone else had his back? This is insulting the audience’s intelligence.

Oh lord we’re still trying to keep Name in play.

Hide? Where could he possibly hide in this room with glass wall bathrooms?

Where is Airmid to chide Nawa for punching a severely injured patient?

What in the New Siwaj is this flashing back to shit we didn’t see to justify character actions for the last 11 episodes?

There’s been quite a few instances this year of people pulling guns when they’ve been so resistant to shooting anyone and it’s just completely lacking in drama.

Now Sailom can fight? Didn’t he get his natural ass whooped like two episodes ago?

Wait, did Kanghan just not get shot at point blank range here, but Name shot ole boy past the two of them spinning around? What the fuck even is this show?

Preview: just fluff.

I’m so sick of Sailom. He is just not smart at all. What a waste of time this show has been for me. I’ll be so relieved when this is over. I think it’s time we as a fandom reckon with the fact that Saint hard-carried Perth through Love By Chance and admit he just isn’t that good. He was weak in Double Savage, Never Let Me Go, and now this. He’s pretty, but goddamn am I unimpressed.

[aquadestinyswriting]

Seven Snippets, Seven People

I got tagged for this ages ago by @druidx, and again more recently by @athenswrites. I think I do have seven snippets, so let's get this started. Placing said snippets under a cut to save peoples' dashes. I might have shared a couple of these previously, but I wanted to share them again, just because.

No Pressure tags: @sparrow-orion-writes , @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @freedominique

1

The sight of the shining white, if somewhat cracked and charred, marble of Toreguarde seemed like a far distant memory to the majority of the adventuring party who had just landed in front of the city gates.The owl archons that had transported the motley group of humanoids, single dragon and large awakened wolf bowed deeply and flew back up into the swiftly closing portal above.

2

“Down p’ease.” he stated, already leaning away from his mother in anticipation of his request being granted. Meredith huffed another sigh as she readjusted her grip and hauled the little man back towards her, “Not yet, Gavid.” she said patiently, “It’s busy, and I don’t want ye getting lost before we’ve even got to where we’re staying.”  Gavid simply pouted and grumbled some more, crossing his chubby little arms defiantly, “Not get lost.” he muttered, “I a big boy.” Meredith bit back her chuckle and hugged the little boy, "I know ye are Gavid, but folks round here are a lot bigger than back home. I'll let ye down when we get to where we're staying, aye?" All she got in response was a huffy ‘harrumph’ while her son sulked.

3

Tick, scrape, tick, scrape, tick.... Selene’s brow twitched as she stared at the mechanical monstrosity that was now sitting on the dresser in the master bedroom of the cottage she and Edwin shared. Why, in all the Gods’ names was there a timekeeper in here?!  Edwin poked his head around the door from the corridor outside, “Alright, I managed to find Bridget’s boot. It was stuffed under…” he trailed off, brows bunching together as he looked up only to see his partner glaring daggers at the silvered clockwork item. Selene shifted her gaze to the door, her eyes narrowing further upon seeing the perplexed expression under Edwin’s beard, “Edwin, why is this in here?” she asked, gesturing to the timekeeper with a nod of her head, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

4

Selene huffed as she looked out of the window at the rain outside. She had rather been hoping it would stop so that Caitr could spend some time outdoors and properly burn off the energy she still had in abundance. The Arcane Librarian was brought out of her thoughts by a muttering voice in her ear, “Stupid godsdamned idiot of a man…” Dwena’s voice grumbled through the Whisper spell. Selene bit back her snort as she replied, “Which one?” she asked, “I mean, I can help you if it’s Thaddeus or Thazaar but not so much if it’s your husband.” The auburn haired wizard could practically see Dwena rolling her eyes, “No, it’s the new divination specialist, he’s pretty full of himself.” came the reply, “In any case, Thazaar’s called an emergency meeting and asked me to get hold of you.”

5

"So mind telling me why you didn't want to go to Arborea?" Elowyn looked to Meredith, who was leaning back in her seat. The Woodling quickly looked back to the view out of the tavern window, feeling a flush of embarrassment on her ears. Meredith grinned widely, propping her elbows on the table, chin resting on her knuckles, "So, have ye actually been back to see her again yet, or are ye trying to avoid bumping into her again?"Elowyn almost spat out the water she'd just taken a sip of. She quickly swallowed the liquid, somehow managing to avoid choking as she turned to glare at the smirking dwarf, "I'm not -- how did you. --?" She stammered, before flinging a napkin in Meredith's face. Meredith simply laughed, "While I ken that ye're still as embarrassed about the damn 'livin' saint' thing as I am; I do remember being told ye had to visit the place again with the others at one point. All I did was put two an' two together." She pointed out. Elowyn huffed, but couldn't quite manage to stay annoyed at the woman beaming at her from across the table,

6

“Abouna, you’re staring.” The mild-mannered voice of the Woodling matriarch startling Edwin out of his reverie. He blinked and tore his gaze away from where the Grand Magus had just exited the office and looked down at the greying woman. Oakrose placed the book in her arms on the table and looked over to the door, “I must admit, it’s nice to have Selene come round more often again. Poor love’s not really been over so much since Alexis up and left.” Edwin tried to ignore the guilty pang in his gut at the statement, and instead focused his attention on the parchment in front of him, “She’s probably just making sure I’m settled in alright. I’m amazed she’s found the time, given everything going on.” he replied smoothly. Oakrose shrugged and fluffed up some cushions on the chair next to the fireplace, “If you say so Abouna.” she said, “Now, give us a holler if you need anything. And might I suggest that next time you take to staring at the Grand Magus, you focus your attention a little higher.” she added, smirking to herself and humming as she left. Once the middle-aged Woodling was gone, Edwin let his head fall onto the desk with a hefty ‘thump’, his ears burning and turning an interesting shade of maroon, “Galana preserve.” he groaned, “Do all Woodlings have eyes as sharp as Alexis?” he muttered.

7

“I’m sorry, but we can only allow those who truly follow the Earth Mother entry, you’ll need to find help elsewhere. Good day.”  Morag huffed a distressed sigh and shook her head as the old cleric who’d opened the door of the local temple of Throff went to close it. She jerked her head up as Gruk growled and Hilde made a noise of protest. The smith’s hand shot out and held the door firm, “Ye want proof that we’re not just some filthy Moradhir here to ruin yer day by reminding ye that Kherillim loves all her children, ‘true’ worshippers or no?” he asked. He raised his voice and straightened his back as the cleric glared at him, “I am Gruk, son of Ovak son of Garuld and I claim the heritage of the Stonespeaker clan, the unbroken lineage Blessed by Kherillim Herself. Now let us in before I end up doin’ something we’ll both end up regretting!”  Morag blinked. Of course she’d heard that Gruk’s father had been adopted, but to claim the name of an extinct clan? She glanced over to Hilde, who was nodding fervently along with her father’s speech, “An’ if you need some actual, paper proof, here!” she added, pulling a thick roll of parchment from out of her pack and thrusting it into the cleric’s hands. She shrugged as the rest of her family sent her puzzled looks, “What? Auld Derek had it out anyway. I think this is the amended one he’d been working on after Merri handed that old journal to him.” she added. Gruk rolled his eyes at his oldest daughter, returning his attention to the cleric, who’s eyes had widened, “Th- that’s not possible. The Stonespeaker line were all executed by decree of King Jotunn during the last set of Purges.” he stammered. He looked back up at Gruk, most of the colour draining from his face. Gruk snorted, “Then d’ye mind telling Throff that? Because, apparently, She’s seen fit to Mark ma youngest daughter and I’m no’ exactly happy about that either.”

[gentlyjimin]

“If I could chose my dream, I just wanna stay right next to you.”  - kim namjoon, tokyo 

words: 1.3k

warnings: n/a, mention of religion 

work is unfinished, i am posting to see how well it is received.

------

“You know,” you started, eyes locked on the same person that your friend couldn’t help but glance at for the past half an hour, “for someone so confident, that guy sure does render you speechless.”

Unamused, Jimin turned to look at you.

“He’s not just some guy. He’s the guy.”

“The guy?” You repeated, brows raised. “What does that even mean, the guy?”

“Do you know who the guy is? Jeon Jungkook.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“No-no,” he scolded after catching your eye-roll. Jimin shifted in his seat and moved closer towards you, “he not only led our lovely rugby team to victory the moment he joined it, but he also-“

“Got rid of all the dickheads and makes sure the team takes care of drunk people at parties.” You finished for him, unable to suppress a smile at Jimin’s unphased expression. “The Vatican should make him a saint.”

Jimin’s huge crush on Jeon Jungkook was evident the moment the sport star turned the entire team around. You’d argue that it existed the moment Jimin saw Jungkook, but your friend was adamant that it didn’t. He was also adamant that he didn’t suit short hair, but everyone knew Jimin could very well pull off being bald if he wanted to.

Jimin continued to deadpan you.

“What,” you laughed, “Jungkook’s a good person, nobody has ever said otherwise. He may be the guy to you, but-“

“Oh?” A light voice suddenly cut you off. 

Speak of the devil and he will arrive. 

“The guy to you? Do you have anything to tell me, sweetheart?” Jungkook continued. He directed his question at Jimin as he sat down and stole one of the fries that sat in front of the other man.

“Nothing that you don’t already know,” Jimin answered with a wink, to which Jungkook laughed while continuing to munch on the fries.

As the two fell into a hushed conversation, you shifted your gaze away from your two friends. Although the three of you sat together, their conversation felt too private to listen to, even as a friend. Instead, you moved your gaze to where you last saw your own crush. He was still there, still working away. He was wearing a dark brown, long sleeved shirt that you noticed kept getting in the way as his fingers glided across the keyboard in front of him. The long sleeves kept shifting the pages of his book. He didn’t seem to mind, though. You found that admirable about him; not only did he look good in brown, but he was patient. It may seem silly, but you found that small things like pages moving when you don’t want them to move was big enough to irritate a lot of people, including you.

Not him, though.

Last week you saw a girl trip and spill her coffee all over his jeans and notes. You could feel your heart break as you watched the pages soak up the dark liquid, but he didn’t even look at them. He jumped out of his seat to help the girl the second she fell. You could faintly hear her apologize to him, but he told her to not worry and that they were just notes.

If you didn’t know better, you’d say you were in love with him. 

Jungkook was one thing, but the Vatican should consider Kim Namjoon a saint.

You couldn’t help but internally cringe at yourself. If you rolled your eyes at how in love Jimin is with Jungkook, Jimin would straight up vomit if he heard what you were thinking right now. 

“You know,” Jungkook’s voice brought you out of your thoughts while you considered what you could possibly wear to a saint-decleration, “I could introduce the two of you. He tutors me in Philo, we take the same class.”

You sighed, wishing so very badly that you could take him up on the offer, but you were too afraid that it would all go wrong. Although you considered yourself to be a fairly confident person, you were not blissfully ignorant. You and Namjoon have never spent time alone together. All that you know about him, you know because the two of you are close to the same person. 

Min Yoongi. Both of you were also familiar with Seokjin and although you considered him a friend, you knew that he was closer to Namjoon than he was to you. 

“Listen,” Jimin started, picking up on your hesitation, “Taehyung is throwing a party this weekend. I know for a fact that Seokjin will be there, which makes it more than likely that Namjoon will be there too.”

Jungkook nodded, “which makes it a perfect setting! You guys won’t be alone. If you hit it off, great. If you don’t, we can come rescue you.”

“Exactly,” Jimin continued, “but either way you’ll get to know whether this is something you want to pursue, or if you should leave it alone and move on.”

You gasped in fake-offense, “move on? How could I possibly move on?”

It was Saturday, 7:36pm and you were halfway through getting ready. You had been texting back and forth with Yoongi, who had confirmed that Namjoon would be there tonight. You had also reassured Yoongi that if he needed an out at any point during the party, you’d be there for him. 

You were aware of his social anxiety, and how much it took for him to attend events like the one tonight. Although you didn’t know the ins and outs of what he had to deal with, you knew enough to offer support and reassurance. When the two of you were 14, there was one particular school event that Yoongi had to attend, a school concert of sorts. He was forced into doing a piano solo, but his set was delayed and cancelled because he was unable to breathe from the nerves. That was the first time you saw the extent of what your childhood friend was dealing with. Since then you promised to be his rock, his stability if and whenever he should need it, if it would be helpful. Sometimes your presence was helpful, sometimes it wasn’t. But Yoongi never shoo-ed you away. Not once. So you stayed, each and every time. 

By the time you finished getting ready, Yoongi had already texted you that he would be there to pick you up in 10 minutes.

This is good. You told yourself. You’d finally get to talk to properly talk to Namjoon, see what he’s like. You loved spending time with Yoongi, and he loved spending time with Namjoon, so surely you would love to spend time with him too?

Of course you will. 

Why were you so nervous? You were never nervous to meet people. You looked hot, felt hot. Why were you nervous?

A horn sounded outside. Has it already been 10 minutes?

“Ooooooh,” Yoongi scanned you up and down as you slipped into the passenger seat, “you dressed up just for me?”

You laughed, “you like?”

“I do,” he laughed, pulling out of your driveway, “and I’m sure that he will too.”

Yoongi knew. Of course he knew. How could he not know? Your interest in Namjoon was clear when you interrogated your friend after each time the two of them hung out.

“Do you have a plan?”

“Ah yes,” you mused, “I will show up, seduce him and hook up in your car. You’ll leave the keys inside for me, right?”

You saw Yoongi roll his eyes.

“I don’t have a plan. I just hope it all works out, that’s all.”

“Why wouldn’t it work out?”

“What if he doesn’t like me?” You hated how that sounded.

Yoongi clicked his tongue.

“Why wouldn’t he? Not only are you hot, but you’re interesting. And as far as I can tell, that’s what he’s after. He likes people with substance. You have plenty of substance.”

You almost blushed. Compliments from Yoongi were not a common thing. This one you’d cherish.

“Can you just repeat that, I didn’t get a chance to record it.”

“Oh ha-ha. Save that attitude for Joon.”

Joon.