#this brush is going to be the death of me pls don’t let me do full drawings w it anymore

[felibrary]

╭──╯ DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION !

PAIRING: jiaoqiu x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: how does a healer heal himself when he falls ill? the answer is he doesn't, after all, you're here to take care of him!; alternatively your boyfriend's sick, and despite all his refusals you insist on taking care of him.

WORDCOUNT: 1.2k | CONTENT & WARNINGS: did i play the tb mission yet..no, did i still write this? yes cause i just man idek okay, jiaoqiu might be ooc, banter and bickering and just tooth-rotting fluff (and jiaoqiu rots in bed..literally lol)

TAGS: @azullumi (i hate all of your fans for choosing the blind date one. reject them exes and bring back hanahaki diseases and yearning 🔥🔥)

AUTHORS NOTE: the closed eyes remind me of jouno. jiaoqiu pls dont die. also im trying to be more dialogue-centrish here cause im not familiar with his character yet soooo no metaphors for now

“jiaoqiu, would it kill you to stay in bed for at least once?”

the scent of freshly brewed green tea and aromatic congee slowly fills the air and you lean back against the counter, with your hands on the surface of the kitchen island and a deadpan expression you stare right at your boyfriend who has only woken up now.

an expression that brings no good settles onto jiaoqiu’s face. “do you need help?” jiaoqiu smiles mirthfully and without hearing your answer he swiftly brushes past you. in the blink of an eye, jiaoqiu picks up the kitchen knife lying on the cutting board before expertly chopping the spring onions into thin rings to later sprinkle over the congee.

he cannot be serious right now.

you have to prevent yourself from sighing out loud before grabbing him by the shoulders to make him turn around  “stop being so stubborn and return to bed,” you’re not sure if the reason you’re heating is up due to the congee whose heat is emitting into the air, the close proximity between you and jiaoqiu that makes your heart skip a beat or two, or the fact that jiaoqiu’s sick and is probably spreading his sickness over to you. 

the latter sounds the most reasonable. 

as it seems (and as expected) your demand goes in one (or well two) ears and out of the other one(s). “and since when are you the doctor?” his cheeky tone and the smirk he throws you are both infuriating. “but, i guess i’m lucky to have such a smart and not to mention beautiful partner who cares about my well-being,” he remarks lovingly. 

“you think you can bribe me with sugar-coated words?” as sweet as he might be, you won��t let him off the hook so easily. after all, he also deserves to rest, especially when sick. 

someone who only takes care of others and their well-being but never their own, will meet their demise sooner than those who constantly seek out help, due to never confiding in others when facing hardships.

“i’m simply stating the truth.” he chortles gleefully, tilting his head to the side while doing so.

“what a charmer you are,” you reply dryly before taking a few steps away from him. “anyway, as you’ve already mentioned your oh-so-smart and beautiful partner cares about your well-being, so i ask you to go back to bed, and get your well-deserved rest,” you quickly change the subject.

ironically nothing escapes jiaoqiu’s attentive gaze, so you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d noticed the rosy tint on your ears by now. but even if that were the case he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it.

“as much as i appreciate your concern, there’s really no need. i’ve experienced much worse and more severe illnesses. a little fever won’t be the death of me.” jiaoqiu shrugs in simplicity, brushing it off as no big deal.

“you’re such a handful to deal with sometimes,” you mumble under your breath before swiftly pressing your hand onto his forehead and withdrawing it as quickly. “jiaoqiu. you’re literally burning up.” 

you don’t wait for him to respond — you won’t give him the time to respond before reaching down and searching for his hand. his lithe fingers find yours and you carefully lace them together before guiding (dragging) him back to the bedroom and forcing him to lie back down as you crouch at his side.

the wet towel that sits all scrunched up in the plastic bowl right next to his bed seems all wrung out already catches your attention and you sigh. “sorry, that i didn’t come earlier to refresh the water,” jiaoqiu’s ears perk up at your apologetic tone and he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”

“stay here, i’ll get you a new one. don’t move while i’m gone okay? just try to relax a bit.” the only thing you receive as a form of acknowledgment is a quiet hum before rushing off to the bathroom to fill the bowl with new cold water.

you return just as quickly as you left and begin to wring the piece of cloth and fold it into a rectangle before placing it onto jiaoqiu’s forehead. “is this okay?” you ask, carefully brushing the strands of hair that stick to the damp towel away. again, a mere hum is the only answer you receive from him.

as you’re reminded of the green tea and congee that are still in the kitchen you jump up. “right i almost forgot the food, i’ll go and get it. wait here for me.” you turn around and before you can even fully leave the room, a whine of your name makes you turn around.

“can you turn the pillow for me? this side is too warm.” your boyfriend starts to complain and you can’t help but stare (in surprise or irritation, you don’t know — maybe both.) you help your boyfriend up and make him lean against the headboard as he continuously holds the wet towel against his forehead. “here,” you present him and he smiles in satisfaction. 

he settles back into bed you assume he has no more requests thus you decide to leave and reside in the kitchen once more. the aroma of spices fills your nose once more and you can’t help but smile as you take the lid of the pot off before using a ladle to scoop the congee into a bowl. 

you reach for a porcelain cup and pour the green tea into it before placing it on a tray with the congee to bring it to jiaoqiu.

as soon as you enter his room, jiaoqiu’s ears perk up. “i’ve missed you,” he expresses wholeheartedly and that makes your heart melt. it’s these moments where you get reminded how lucky to have him. “so now that you’re back can you turn my pillow around again? this side heated up much faster than anticipated.”

okay so maybe you weren’t that grateful to have him.

you sigh and put the tray down on his (unexpectedly but pleasing) tidy desk, normally it would’ve been filled with a bunch of different notes and recipes for both meals and medicines, but it’s exceptionally organized today. 

once again you help your boyfriend once again by flipping his pillow before grabbing the bowl of congee and handing it to him. upon him not accepting, let alone acknowledging the food before him, you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“what? do you want me to feed you next princess?” you scoff and although your remark is sarcastic, jiaoqiu can’t help but smile cheekily. “well if you’re already offeri-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you shove the metal spoon full of congee into his mouth which slightly catches him off guard and makes him open his eyes for a split second.

although you’ve seen his eyes countless times, you can’t help but admire them. his eyes resemble honey, beautiful and golden but also sickeningly sweet and addicting. “you know you’re so much more beautiful when you shut up for once,” you tease.

Jiaoqiu detaches himself from the spoon and scoffs. “should’ve added black pepper instead of white pepper. you know that i favor intense flavors over mild ones.” he complains and you can’t help but crack a smile. ”stop being a picky eater and eat.”

END NOTE: this has been sitting in my drafts since June 21 LMFAO but yeah here it is!! also does this look proofread to yall cause it really isn't its quite literally 3am and school's starting next week. my sleeping schedule's so fucked up I'm crying. but shoutouts to Grammarly for proofreading tho fawk u for saying i need Grammarly pro to see my other 92 mistakes like okay. in this economy??

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[jolalibrary]

anytime

javier peña x f!reader

summary: “Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper. Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing the place where the hair sits atop his lip. “Anytime, cariño.” “Anytime, really?”

wordcount: 3.1k. warnings: fluff. bestfriends to lovers. banter. reader wears a dress and has a gloss on lips. no physical description. javi calls reader solecito as a nickname only. likely warnings for spelling as i wrote this on my phone. an: huge thanks to @wildemaven for creating this moodboard (pls go show it some love), letting me make a banner from it, and then letting me write this for Javi instead of Frankie. bby, i hope you like this.

Javi had never been good at avoiding challenging situations.

For the longest time, he’s been finding himself in the centre of a whirlwind—whether in Bogotá, Cali or apparently even back home.

You, his friend, best friend—a well-kept secret, tucked away in his chest, not shared with a soul when he was away. You were a thing that he’d clutched close to his chest from the moment the two of you had first gotten close, through his failed engagement and even more so when he left for Colombia. You, in all your understanding, hugging him, telling him he’d be great, amazing, the very best.

Both of you were younger then, less worn down by life, its many obstacles and all the other things.

You best not become best friends with anyone over there, Peña. As if anyone could annoy me as much as you, solecito.

In the brief interim of his return, you hadn’t appeared all that different. You may have had a job, a house—drove a slightly better car than when the two of you were staying out at all hours—but you, at your core remained very much the fucking same.

Still just as understanding, as kind. A person who got him, without really needing to try.

For Javi, the best thing—outside of you being you and the monthly calls you made him promise to keep when he was drowning in murder, drugs and Escobar—is that you never ask him about it. Any of it.

You had always let him pretend, escape, listen to you fill him in on gossip—things such as disagreements over the size of rhubarb and whether someone was having an affair. A thing you did even when he came back. Even more grateful for it then, when he grew tired of the questions, the compliments, the everything.

Its why he didn’t tell you when he would land back in Laredo for good. Just waiting, standing outside your place, leaning against your car as you walk down the street—eyes brushing over him, pausing, before he gets to see that smile. That signature fucking smile.

When he’d left the first time, he remembers how you’d lingered near your car, unwilling to climb into your bright yellow death trap—the entire reason he called you solecito to begin with—wearing the beginnings of that smile even then.

The difference is now he knows that there was something under it. Hidden, held back, kept from him.

It’s why it meant so much to him when he saw it in all its glory, all alight, blooming and somehow healing.

He can’t explain it, but it repairs strands inside of him. Your presence alone continuing to do so when he meets you for lunches, coffees, and late-night drinks. In exchange, he makes you laugh, your head thrown back as he tells you about whatever he did on the ranch—all of it comical, apparently. Because the idea of him, Javier Peña doing ranch work brought tears to your eyes.

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” you splutter, taking a mouthful of your beer as you narrow your eyes.

Nodding, he leans back into the booth, arm stretched out, picking and picking—the label crumbling from the sweating bottle. “Yeah. Bet you’re upset you don’t get to see me herd cattle and mend fences.”

“Oh, yeah. One-hundred-percent.”

Shrugging, he grins—an easy task with you. A thing that has always been that way, even when he turned up at your door when he couldn’t get married; even when the two of you sat under the stars when he told you about possibly going to Colombia. You still made him grin—even when things weren’t fucking easy at all.

“I’ll add it to my to-do list—visit Peña on the ranch—it’s currently sat under finding a dress, a boyfriend and the will to fucking live.”

Snorting, he traces his bottom lip with his thumb.

Your face scrutinises him, before rolling your eyes. And he just waits—because you always spill eventually.

One. Two. Th—

Fine, you huff, before it unravels from you. How the wedding of your work colleague is close, closer than I thought and you’re tired of attending these things alone, circled like a fucking fish by single sharks.

And he’s listening, taking it in. Trying to not wince at how high-pitched you’ve got as you’ve ranted.

Mainly, Javi finds there’s more questions rising than answers provided.

One singular one rising to the top. A thing he’s wanted to ask for the last few weeks. Not in a rude way, or in the way it burns inside his chest when he talks to you on the phone and he has to bury it. But, it’s there, bubbling, wishing to escape and know. It's even louder when the two of you are like this, crammed in a space, laughing, smiling, sharing, wondering—

Why are you even single? How are you?

You’ve mentioned people—names, here and there when the two of you had been on the phone. Them fluttering out before you can pull them back, but then they’re forgotten. Javi, I get one call a month—let me tell you about the cattle war going off. And, in a way, he didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know, so he never asked.

Now, it’s all he wants to ask.

Because you’re… you. You’re brilliant, beautiful—funny, clever, witty. And yet—

“—so, now it’s a week out, and I need to find a dress, a date and drive there to watch another person I know get married.”

He knows he should busy his mouth with the bottle—wrap his odd idea in beer. But, that part of him—the one which wants to help, solve issues, and be useful—rises up in him like a phoenix left from the ashes of Colombia.

“I’ll go with you.”

He expects the pause, even braces for the look of shock.

He doesn’t expect the smirk. Doesn’t expect the way it spreads out, to hit your eyes. How under the low-bar light over the table, it makes your eyes glimmer and fucking shimmer.

“You want to go to a wedding with me?”

Shrugging, he picks off the last part of the label—the mess of it all circling around where the glass meets the wood.

Mirroring him, you shrug. “Alright.”

“Alright.”

He should take his eyes off you, but he finds he can’t.

Javi hasn’t been able to since you stepped out of your place, a handful of your dress as you locked up—stepping down your steps to his car, letting it flutter down to your ankles.

You look like a fucking dream.

A thought he knows he shouldn’t have—but has all the same. His heart staggered, half-halting in its hammering as his hands paused in their drumming on the steering wheel; his glasses slid down his nose, his skin suddenly warm all over, even if his jacket was already splayed out across the backseat.

Close your mouth, Peña.

I’m chewing gum, solecito.

Yeah, that’s why your mouth is open.

It hadn’t passed his notice that you were good-looking before today. He’s known you were, had always known it—he had eyes, after all. But, he’d always felt there was a line. A line the two of you never delved too close to step over. The sign above both of your heads already illuminated in bright bulbs and flashing lights:

JUST FRIENDS.

Until this, anyway. This thing that can only be described as the longest one-hour drive he’s ever been on. And he used to do recon with Murphy.

Because you’re teasing, taunting him. All in that usual way that you do. And it’s so easy to flirt back, to let line after line roll, but he has begun to spot you squirming.

Doing so while matching his suit in a deep brown shade—chosen by him, ‘pick a colour suit, Javi’. Adding a tinge to some of your comments—things that if said by someone that wasn’t you, he’d ask them (flirtingly) if they were coming on to him.

But with you, it’s something he can never be sure. Never something that can be completely understood, known, cracked or figured out. In the same way, he can’t understand how your perfume keeps following him. How it embeds itself into the cabin of his truck when he picks you up, sews itself into his clothing when the two of you meet—and right now, is attempting to bury itself in his skin, muscles, and bones.

“You’ve been abnormally quiet.”

Smirking, he snorts. Fingers smoothing out his hair as he swings into a spot—the tyres crunching over the gravel. “Have I? Or have you just not shut up.”

“Rude.”

Laughing, he cuts the engine—hands resting on the top of his thighs, not missing the way your eyes follow his movements before clearing your throat. It shifts something in him, makes a little part of him surge, like the smallest of fireworks suddenly erupting in his chest.

Something he forces himself to shut down the moment you shove open your door, slipping out, as he grabs his jacket.

“Do I need to be worried about you crying today, solecito?”

Rearranging your dress, and slipping the strap of your bag over your shoulder, you squint as you stand tall, hand covering your brow as you meet his gaze.

And fuck, with this backdrop, even squinting, you look beautiful, radiant, stunning all over again. Somehow his brain having forgotten when you were next to him, when you were acting as if this was the most normal fucking thing they’ve ever done.

It isn’t.

Something he’s becoming more aware of as his throat goes dry, and his thoughts slow to nothing—

“No, you’re good. Your mouth is open again.”

You say it with a smirk, all teasing—making heat lick up his spine all over again. And, if you were anyone else, he’d have already pulled you close, tilted your chin up, and likely smothered your mouth with his.

But, you’re his friend—his best friend. The one solid thing he’s had in his life since he became a name, a poster, a hero.

“C’mon,” you say, turning on your heel as you head in the direction of the entrance, him following, jacket slipping on as he mutters mouth isn’t fucking open under his breath.

Even if he knows it was. Even if he’s desperately trying to stop his eyes from descending down to your hips, eyes fixated on the way you walk with ease to the wooden sign which greets all the guests.

He knows, due to his absence from home, there haven’t been many weddings he’s attended. Least of all like this. But even he thinks this is over the top, suddenly understanding why you hadn’t wanted to come alone. Because grand doesn’t quite cover it—not after the last one he’d attended.

This one has flickering candles lit in the day, waiters all set to hand glasses of bubbles and offer little mouthfuls of flavour on silver trays. Then, there’s the backdrop—the enormity of the building, only for you to tell him that it’s an outside wedding.

It’s more of a comfort as to why his hand drops to the small of your back than anything else. A need to be rooted, to feel calmer as he nods at passing people he doesn’t know (and hopes don’t know him), feeling you curl into him subconsciously, your bag swinging between the two of you both—affording a gap, forcing it, in fact.

The ceremony will start soon.

He overhears it, as he assumes you do, because your fingers wrap around his wrist—taking it from your back, before your palm meets his, and then you’re guiding, leading. Dragging him. All willingly to the back of the building where he sees it—the makeshift aisle. A wooden arch, and lots of deep orange-brown chairs all line up on either side of an orange aisle.

“Glad we chose brown now,” he murmurs.

“Does it make you think, y’know—being at a wedding?”

He swallows. Because it’s a loaded question.

One he assumes has been sitting all politely on the tip of your tongue since you sat beside him in his vehicle. It’s why his eyes watch you carefully as you grab the two of them a flute each from a passing waiter. Handing it to him, adding nothing—not rescuing him. Just waiting instead, doing that thing you do, where your eyes widen as you wait, trying to look all innocent even though it’s you who has just dropped a live grenade into the centre of the conversation.

Shaking his head, he snorts. “No. Not really. Knew… I knew deep down it wasn’t right. Her… and me.”

“You got any idea what’s right?”

You take a sip this time when the question lands, it again sparkling in glittered innocence, the softest of smiles pressed against the glass.

You he thinks. But he swallows that away and says ‘Not a fucking clue’ instead.

Throughout the day, he’s been desperate for a reason to stop looking at you.

So far, he’s found none.

Bits and pieces of things Murphy used to say, the words he’d drop into conversation when talking about his wife: how he knew, why she was the one, all coming back to him in drips and drops.

It dawns on him, the same as it had done since before he went to Cali, that you might mean a little more than a friend. A lot of what Murphy used to say, so easily applied to how Javi felt about you.

You make him feel calmer, create a space where he can relax, really unwind. It’s easy, uncomplicated, when he’s with you—from the conversation to the things he thinks. Complex balled thoughts stretch out until they’re in easy-to-decipher lines, able to process, able to understand.

He even told you about the boats.

A secret he’d have been prepared to take to the grave, if not for the fact you pointed out he wasn’t sleeping. Your eyes watching, pleading, don’t lie to me. And fuck, he couldn’t—not even if he wanted to.

That should have been the first sign.

He guesses he should be thankful today has been stuffed with more of them. One after the other. From the way you made sure to make him a plate of only his favourite things, to the way you knew when he needed a bit of space from the thousand questions as to how you both knew one another, and what he does.

Now, Javi is on the sidelines, admiring you in a way that makes his heart double in size.

Your dress skims around your calves as you dance—your arms rising above your head, glee stitched itself from cheek to cheek. On occasion, time halts when your eyes land on his—stealing whatever thought he had, only resuming normality when you close your eyes, belting out the lyrics to the song.

Mainly, the thought he finds which keeps returning is: I wanna do this with you again. any place. any time.

A hollowness scratches out in his chest as he lets himself acknowledge it. A thickness growing in his throat, a sorrowness weighs down on his shoulders as he nurses his glass—hand in his trouser pocket, telling himself he should be content he got to be on your arm, got to have you against him during a slow dance over an hour ago. That he gets to see you smile, hear your laugh—even know you.

“Hey, Peña.”

“Hey solecito.”

You grin—a little breathless, the music having changed, becoming slower, softer—wrenching the glass from his hand as you drain it.

“Fuck me. Y’thirsty?”

“Very. You’d know if you had any rhythm.”

He pinches you, lightly—teasingly. Your grin shifts into a laugh, tucking yourself in against him, arm around his back. And fuck, the way you’re looking up at him, he wants to warn you.

If you look at me like that, I’m going to kiss you.

Javi wonders what you’d do if you did. Whether you’d pull away, hissing the two of you are friends. Or whether you’d kiss him back.

“Want to get some fresh air?” you ask, your words against his ear—lips so close to ghosting his skin.

“Sure.”

It’s cooler when the two of you step out from under the marquee, the music getting quieter when your fingers loop in his, guiding, easing him around plant pots and tall trees, until the two of you are descending marble stairs and past iron fencing, to take him to the perimeter, to the view looking out over the city.

He watches as you step forward, fingers around the iron fencing, leaning, staring out as you let out a heavy sigh. One laced with things he wants to ask for, tug it from you, let you unload whatever is weighing on you—because that’s what you both do for one another.

You make it easy.

Make it all bearable.

But, whether you mean to, or not, you shiver. A light one, barely noticeable by most—but he isn’t most. His fingers are already at the button, undoing it, sliding his jacket down his arms before he places it over your shoulders, watching your head turn, meeting his gaze.

“You look really pretty.”

Flicking your eyes down, you smile. Sweetly. Unreadably. “Well, you’ve always been pretty.”

“Pretty?”

Laughing, your fingers tug his jacket closer, burying yourself in it. “The prettiest, Javier.”

Leaning beside you, he feels the metal from the railings, you’re both resting on, cut into his palms. He wonders if you feel the same, your dress billowing in the gentle breeze as the two of you stare off into the distance, spotting the flickering lights of a city, of homes tucking in for the night.

Then he turns his head, finding you already watching him, studying him in a similar way as you were before.

And, he lets his eyes drop to your mouth. A sign. A signal. It’s not the first time, usually, he does so when you’re not looking, letting himself trace the curve of your lips. Now, he stares at the way your gloss has long since gone, left behind on glasses and straws.

“Thank you for coming with me,” you whisper.

Nodding, he feels you follow his path—dropping, scorching his face, tracing where the hair sits atop his lip.

“Anytime, cariño.”

“Anytime, really?”

Nodding, he swallows. A thousand things he’s thought, and felt, all rushing to the surface—unwilling to bury itself, to descend under the usual guilt and feelings of inadequacies when it comes to you.

“I’d do anything for you.”

Smirking, you tilt your head. “Anything?”

Biting your lip, he feels it—something thrumming in him, being plucked.

“Will you kiss me?”

“I could…”

Your brows rise, a louder cheer coming from inside, but it doesn’t do anything to tear your eyes away from the other.

The whole world could slowly vanish from around the two of you, and all he’d want is just to stare at you.

“But?” you ask, delicately.

Almost so softly, it makes his chest ache.

Dipping his head, he lets his gaze wash over the place again—the rolling land, the trees, the houses in the distance.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You slide closer, shoulder to shoulder, eyes scorching his jaw, his neck, the side profile he can feel you tracing with your gaze.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His neck almost cracks with the quickness of his movement, his eyes scanning, reading, a part of him wanting to step back, and protect you. Because he’s not sure about the parts of him you’d find easy to love—

“You don’t know what you’re—“

“Don’t care,” you interrupt, fingers twitching on the lapel of his jacket. “I know you—Javi, not Agent Peña. I know the boy who cloud-watched with me when my parents wouldn’t stop fighting; I know the man who told me to stop sending him postcards from the town shop—but also whispered that he liked them.”

Snorting, he smiles.

“So, if you want to, no pressure—but, I think you should kiss me.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, you bite your cheek. “Think you’ve wasted a lot of time not kissing me already, honestly.”

Of course you do, he thinks. And then he kisses you, palms on your cheeks, slanting his mouth over yours.

And fuck, it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever done.

an: honestly, this made me so fucking happy to write.

[stargirllanaa]

Death Grips. III - R.C

Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader

Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys

Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep

Series Masterlist

A/n: hey guys, I just got back from out of the country so this took me a little longer than I wanted it to but hope u enjoy and pls leave feedback and lmk how u like it whether it’s an anonymous ask, reblog or comment I do read all feedback and try to incorporate what you guys suggest!

Part: III

…….

The beach was alive with noise and chaos. Voices carried across the sand, blending with the pounding of the waves and the crackle of the bonfire. The night should have felt carefree and fun even, but as soon as you saw Rafe leaning against a log near the fire, his easy laugh cutting through the hum of the crowd, it was like every muscle in your body locked up.

You froze, but Mia nudged you forward, oblivious—or maybe just willfully blind. “Come on,” she said with a grin, already scanning the crowd for Topper. “He’s not going to do anything. Just stick with me.”

You didn’t respond. Your eyes stayed locked on Rafe as he glanced up and noticed you. His reaction was immediate—his laugh froze mid-sound, his blue eyes narrowing just slightly before he recovered. He raised his beer in a lazy toast, smirking in your direction.

Mia didn’t notice. “See? He’s being chill. You’re fine,” she said breezily, dragging you toward the fire.

But you didn’t feel fine.

At first, you stayed on the outskirts, keeping your distance and nursing the drink someone shoved into your hand. You told yourself you were just being paranoid, that Rafe wasn’t paying any attention to you. But it was impossible to shake the feeling of his eyes brushing over you whenever you moved too close to the firelight.

It wasn’t long before he was beside you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, almost soft.

You didn’t look at him. “What do you want?”

“I’m not trying to bother you,” he said quickly, hands raised as if to show he meant no harm. “I just—look, I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything.”

You stiffened. “What?”

“I mean it,” Rafe said, his voice dropping. “I know I messed up. I’ve been… I don’t know. Trying to figure my shit out.” He took a step closer, his gaze steady. “I just want us to be cool. That’s all.”

“Cool,” you repeated flatly. “Right. Sure.”

You wanted to walk away, to shut him down and make it clear he wasn’t welcome. But something in his tone—his softness, his willingness to admit fault made you hesitate. It wasn’t like him.

“I mean it,” he said again, holding your gaze. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want things to be like this. It doesn’t have to be so… heavy.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t trust him. He’d proven that over and over. But he didn’t press. He just lingered, staying close but not too close, offering you drinks every time your cup got low.

You didn’t realize how much you’d had to drink until you were laughing at something—God knows what—with a girl you barely knew. The firelight blurred, the edges of the world softening as the alcohol worked its way through your system.

Rafe wasn’t far, leaning against a log a few feet away, his eyes on you.

“You’re finally relaxing,” he said, his voice light as he moved closer.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

He smirked, holding his hands up in surrender. “Not trying to. Just saying it’s nice to see you like this. You’re always so tense around me.”

“Damn, I wonder why,” you shot back, though your words were starting to slur.

He laughed, low and warm. “Fair point.”

Before you could respond, he tilted his head toward the darker stretch of beach beyond the fire. “Let’s go for a walk. Too loud here.”

“No thanks,” you said immediately, shaking your head.

“Come on,” he pressed, his tone light but insistent. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to talk. No bullshit, I promise.”

You hesitated. Part of you screamed to stay by the fire, to not let him pull you away from the safety of the crowd. But the alcohol muffled your thoughts, loosening your grip on the fear that always kept you guarded around him.

Against your better judgment, you nodded.

The sound of the party faded as you walked, the waves swallowing the noise until it was just the two of you under the moonlight. You stumbled slightly, the uneven sand throwing you off balance, but Rafe’s hand steadied you.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice closer than you realized.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, shrugging off his hand.

He didn’t let go immediately, his fingers lingering on your arm for a moment too long before he finally stepped back.

When you stopped walking, he turned to face you, his expression unreadable.

“I miss you,” he said softly.

You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

“I miss us,” he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. But I want to fix it.”

You stared at him, the alcohol dulling your initial burst of anger. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not asking you to forget everything,” he said quickly. “I just—I want another chance. I can be better. I know I can.”

You laughed, sharp and bitter. “Another chance? Are you insane?”

“I’m serious,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve been working on myself. I’ve been trying—”

“You’re fucking delusional,” you snapped, cutting him off. The alcohol loosened the words, pulling them out of you before you could stop. “You cheated on me. You hit me. You made me feel like I was nothing. And now you want me to just… what? Forget all of that and give you another chance?”

Rafe flinched, the softness in his expression hardening into something sharper. “I was messed up back then. I didn’t know how to—”

“No,” you said, your voice shaking with anger. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You always knew. And you loved it.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have a part in it,” he said, his voice rising. “You knew how to push my buttons. You knew how to make me lose my shit.”

You took a step back, your body trembling. “You’re disgusting.”

The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, you thought he might lash out, that he’d grab your arm or raise his voice. But instead, he smiled—cold and sharp, the boyish charm replaced by something cruel.

“You’re drunk,” he said simply, stepping closer. “I’ll give you a pass. But you’re not over me. You never will be.”

You turned and walked away, the sound of his laughter following you as you stumbled back toward the fire. You didn’t care if you looked unsteady or ridiculous; all you cared about was putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

When you reached the edge of the crowd, Mia was nowhere to be seen. Your stomach twisted, a fresh wave of anger rising as you realized she’d probably disappeared with Topper again, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Your hands shook as you grabbed your bag, your breaths coming in uneven gasps. You didn’t look back toward the dark stretch of beach where Rafe still stood, watching you.

~~~~~~

You slammed the door of your dorm shut, the sound echoing through the small space. Your clothes still smelled faintly of bonfire smoke, your hair damp from the salt air, but none of that mattered. The only thing you could focus on was the lingering sensation of Rafe’s smirk, his words still ringing in your ears.

“You’re not over me. You never will be.”

The audacity made your stomach churn, and as you tossed your bag onto your bed, you couldn’t stop your hands from trembling. You needed to talk to someone to make sense of everything that had happened at the beach. But when Mia walked through the door minutes later, her laughter bubbling over as she scrolled through her phone, something inside you snapped.

She looked up, startled. “Whoa. What’s with the death glare?”

“Where the hell were you?” you snapped, unable to hold it anymore.

The smile on her face faded instantly. “What?”

“At the beach,” you said, your voice shaking. “You said we’d stick together, that you wouldn’t leave me alone, and then you disappeared with Topper like it was nothing.”

Mia’s brow furrowed, her confusion quickly morphing into defensiveness. “Hold on, what happened? Did Rafe—”

“What do you think happened?” you snapped, cutting her off. “He cornered me, got me drunk, and then tried to tell me he wants me back. And you weren’t there, Mia. You left me alone with him.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Okay, but nothing actually happened, right? I mean, you’re here, you’re fine—”

“Fine?” The word came out sharp, almost bitter. “Are you kidding me? You know what he’s like, Mia. You know how much he’s put me through, and you still dragged me there like it didn’t matter. You’re literally fucking his best friend.”

Her mouth opened, then closed, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. “It’s not like that,” she said finally. “Topper’s not Rafe, and I thought—”

“You thought what?” you interrupted, your voice rising. “That I’d just magically be okay? That I’d be fine hanging out with my abusive ex at a party while you played house with his best friend?”

“Abusive?” she repeated, her eyes widening slightly.

You froze, realizing the word had slipped out before you could stop it. But there was no taking it back now. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter now. “He was abusive, Mia. And you still keep putting me in situations where I have to see him. Do you even care how that feels for me?”

Her expression shifted, guilt flickering across her face before she crossed her arms defensively. “Of course, I care,” she said. “But it’s not like I’m dragging you into this on purpose. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Ghost Topper because you and Rafe had a shitty relationship?”

The words hit you like a slap, your anger twisting into something deeper—something closer to hurt. “I’m not asking you to break things off with him,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m asking you to have some fucking empathy. You’re supposed to be my friend, Mia.”

“I am your friend,” she shot back. “But maybe you need to stop blaming me for everything. I didn’t make you date him, and I didn’t make you stay with him when things got bad. That was your choice.”

You flinched, the accusation cutting deeper than you expected. For a second, you thought about yelling, about telling her to leave and never come back. But instead, you turned away, your chest tight with something between anger and sadness.

“Just… go, Mia,” you said quietly. “I can’t do this right now.”

She hesitated, her arms still crossed. “Fine,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “But don’t expect me to keep putting up with this shit forever.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone in the silence of the room.

~~~~~

You were sitting on your bed, the faint glow of your desk lamp casting long shadows across the walls. The air felt heavy, the silence broken only by the sound of Rafe pacing in front of you.

“Let me see your phone,” he said, his voice low and clipped.

You froze, clutching the device tighter. “Why?”

“Because,” he snapped, facing you with a sharp glare. “I saw Bella texting you earlier. What did she say?”

“Nothing important,” you said quickly, your stomach twisting.

He didn’t believe you. “Show me.”

You hesitated, your fingers trembling as you unlocked your phone and handed it over. He snatched it from your grasp, scrolling through your messages with a storm brewing in his eyes.

His jaw clenched as he stopped on Bella’s most recent text:

“r u ok? im rlly worried about u and rafe. u don’t have to stay with him yk. u deserve sm better. <3”

“Worried about us?” Rafe said, his voice dripping with mockery. “What’s she so worried about, huh? Did you tell her we had a fight? That’s cute.”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” you said quickly, your chest tightening. “She’s just… she’s just being a good friend.”

“She’s not your friend,” he said sharply, tossing the phone onto the bed. “She’s trying to break us up. You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see what’s going on?”

“She’s not trying to break us up,” you insisted, your voice trembling. “She’s just—”

“Shut up,” he interrupted, his tone cold and final. “You’re done talking to her. Do you hear me? You’re going to block her, and you’re not going to say another word to her. She’s gone.”

“No,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible. “You’ve already made me cut off everyone else. Bella’s the only friend I have left.”

“You still have me... you have Mia,” Rafe said, stepping closer, his shadow looming over you. “That should be enough for you. You don’t need anyone else.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. “This isn’t protection, Rafe. This is fucking control-”

The words barely left your mouth before his hand slammed against the wall beside your head, making you flinch.

“What did you just say?” he demanded, his voice dangerously low.

You didn’t answer.

~~~~~~~~

You woke with a gasp, your heart pounding as you sat up in bed. The room was dark, the faint glow of your phone the only source of light. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the weight of the dream pressing down on your chest.

Even now, after everything, he still had a hold on you.

~~~~~~~~

It was late when you found yourself outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. You hadn’t meant to leave the dorm, but sitting in that room, surrounded by memories and silence, felt unbearable.

You ended up at the campus library steps, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was quiet and peaceful in a way that almost felt foreign.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You turned, startled, to see Cam leaning against the railing, a book in one hand and a thermos in the other. His smile was easy, and his presence grounding, making you feel like you could finally take a breath.

“Something like that,” you admitted, sitting down beside him.

He didn’t press or ask why your eyes were rimmed with exhaustion or why you were out so late. Instead, he offered you the thermos, the warmth of it seeping into your palms as you held it.

“I saw you at the beach,” he said after a moment, his tone careful.

You stiffened but didn’t look at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated. “You okay?”

You thought about lying, about brushing it off like you always did. But the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“No.”

He nodded like he’d expected that, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “If you ever want to talk…”

“I don’t,” you said quickly, cutting him off. Then, softer: “Not yet.”

“That’s fine,” he said easily, leaning back against the steps. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You didn’t respond, but for the first time in what felt like forever, the silence didn’t feel so heavy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!

Wanna see more? Check out my fic ‘i don’t smoke’

[gojoidyll]

There is No Law that Emperors Must be Fair

Emperor ! Jing Yuan x Princess ! Reader

Chapter 7 | Kisses Erase Pain

Summary | You are set to marry the Emperor, Jing Yuan. In order to break the engagement, you stage an accident and fake having amnesia. But now, your own cruel, cold, and distant fiancé, who seemed to not want anything to do with you, is now acting all lovey dovey!

want to be a part of the taglist? then pls go to taglist ^-^

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Sunday mused to himself as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, then bending down to you, his lips gently brushed against your ear, “it’s time to wake up, dove.”

His soothing voice washed over you, your whole body felt all warm and cozy, it was like being enveloped into a comfortable embrace on a winter morning.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself staring up at what you believed was an angel. And judging by the wings sprouting from his head, you knew you weren’t too far off the mark.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered those words as you continued to look up at him. Your confession made him smile at you, his hand still running through your hair.

“Thank you, dove, but don’t you have any questions for me?”

You shook your head, “I know I’m dead… what is there to ask?”

“A second chance, perhaps?”

You froze at that before lifting yourself from his lap and turning to him while sitting on your knees, your eyes a bit hopeful, “like going back in time and starting over?!”

Sunday chuckled to himself for a moment before shaking his head, “I can’t send you back. Time isn’t what I am able to control. However, I am able to erase what all has happened to you. In other words, I can make it to where your death hasn’t even happened.”

You thought over his words for a moment, “so you can’t send me back, but you can erase it? To how far back can you go?”

“As far back as I want,” he said as he lifted his hand to caress your cheek, “I could even erase your very existence.”

He watched your face contort into one of fear being patting your cheek softly before letting his hand fall from your face, “but don’t worry, I would never do that to you.”

You steadied your breathing before asking your next question, “so… since I am seeing you now… does that mean you plan on erasing something?”

“You could say that,” Sunday mused, “I want to erase your death and all the way up to that little amnesia plan of yours.”

“Only that far?!”

He smiled at you, “I am an impatient man, I don’t want to erase too far back and wait to see what unfolds.”

“… Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because I want to see if you can win.”

“Win?”

“The emperor has no laws for himself, no weaknesses. You could change that.”

You could only shrug, “kind of hard to do that when I can’t fool him. Not to mention he has a few favorite maids he likes to entertain.”

Sunday reached for you and patted your head, “but remember dove, it was Blade’s protectiveness that gave you away. Manage to not let Blade or Dan Heng find out about you, then your life would be easier.”

“That reminds me, who was the man who had helped Jing Yuan anyway?”

“That was Moze. An assassin. Be careful around him too. Honestly though, I am surprised he wasn’t your first obstacle…”

You shook your head with a smile before standing up, Sunday joining you, “so I guess this means you will send me back now?”

“Of course,” he said while getting closer to you, his lips gently pressing to your forehead which immediately caused a glowing light to surround you.

“Wait- I never got your name,” you said as you started to disappear.

Sunday merely smiled, “I am sure I am mentioned in a few books here and there, find my name there, and if we meet again, tell me what you think my name is.”

That was the last thing he said, then that warmth was gone, and you found yourself waking up in a cold sweat. Your breathing was hard, erratic. Looking around for a moment, you hastily got out of bed and went to your desk. On it sat a calendar.

“So,” you muttered to yourself, “I really am back to the day I decided to try and get amnesia…, and how did he explain it? He couldn’t control time, so he didn’t send me back. No, instead he said it was more like he was erasing the events that had happened… but what sort of being could possibly do that? No god in any religion I have heard of have ever been able to do that… Maybe I should go to the library today and see if I can figure out anything that way.”

Nodding to yourself, you went to your closet to fish out some decent clothes to wear (a dress that was easy to move around in since you didn’t plan to enact any more plans for the time being). And just as you made it to the door and opened it, you paused.

“Oh… hello, Blade.”

A part of you still couldn’t believe that that mysterious man erased the events that had happened, so there was only one thing to test out that theory. And that was talking to Blade, of course. Ever since you came here Blade has been like your shadow. Not once has he ever spoken to you or tried to speak. And you didn’t bother to talk to him either as a sort of defiance of not talking to anyone. But it was all too clear to you now that even if you don’t talk to anyone, the Emperor wouldn’t care.

Blade looked down at you, his gaze hardening as he glared at you, but he offered no greeting in return.

Well fine, be an ass, you thought begrudgingly as you turned on your heel and headed in the direction of the library. Blade already following you, hot on your heel as a shadow would be.

The library wasn’t hard to find, but it was a pain to get there due to how far it was from your room. But whatever, you were here now.

“Now, if I was a deity that can erase events… what book would I be in?”

You said those words quietly enough so Blade wouldn’t hear. Glancing behind you, you noticed how he stayed near the door, completely uninterested in what you were doing. Perfect.

So, you got to work.

You passed by multiple genres of books but eventually settled on a few pertaining to religion, history, a few fictional since they had titles and descriptions correlating with your situation, and even a few books that described creatures that looked a lot like the man you met.

Rolling a small cart, you brought it over to a couch and plopped down.

“Now, let’s see what I can find!”

Six hours later and you thought you were going to pass away. The fictional books were entertaining and served as good breaks, but they didn’t help you in the slightest of mentioning who could erase events that had happened!

It felt like you were about to rip your hair out! Sighing heavily and closing the current book you had in your lap; you went to get up and return the books all to their rightful place. You originally thought of leaving them out and letting someone else put them back, but you didn’t want a surprise visit from the emperor who would start asking about your sudden interest in historical and religious themes.

Once done putting them back, you settled for grabbing a single book to read. It was a fairy tale where a princess is saved by a prince. Sitting back down on the couch, you lay back and grinned at the title. Despite being a princess… you doubted any prince would dare to come save you.

Though, as soon as you opened the book and started reading once again, your eyes started to grow heavy and before too long, you fell asleep. Your breathing evened out and the book was held tightly against your chest as you curled up on your side. A small smile on your face.

Though, not too long after you fell asleep, the Emperor was walking by the room, “Blade? It’s uncommon to see you guarding the library,” Jing Yuan mused at the guard.

Blade huffed and jutted his head towards the open door, “the princess decided to read today.”

Jing Yuan hummed to the information and walked in, his eyes scanned the room for a moment before landing on your sleeping figure.

“Seems to me like she is sleeping more than she is reading.”

Blade came to stand next to the Emperor, arms crossed over his chest, “she was in here all the day.”

“That so?”

Blade nodded wordlessly as Jing Yuan walked over to your sleeping figure. His body knelt next to you, looking over you, he then noticed the book that was in your arms. Plucking the book from your grasp, he looked over the title.

“Foolish girl,” Jing Yuan mused as noticed how the book entailed a princess being saved by a prince.

“She wouldn’t be foolish if you just treated like an actual fiancé.”

“Its not everyday that I hear you defending my rewards from conquest.”

Blade shrugged, “I am only stating the obvious. Furthermore… I am bored of following her around.”

Jing Yuan let out a laugh as he stood back up, “then introduce her to other things that the castle has to offer. I’m sure even you can handle that task since you are so bored.”

Blade bowed slightly as Jing Yuan decided to take his leave.

“Of course, Emperor.”

And when he was gone, Blade looked back to you, his glare still present on his face.

taglist pt 1

@danae-misfortune @frogsasfrogs @openthenyoor01 @zuhaine @ughlostmyotherac @joyfulnightprincess @thechibifoxcub @ceaether @satanisasofties @thetwinkims @yanrandom @honeybunbunn @superdonkeypatroleggs @ohmyfinggod @baboon-milk333 @zareri @kclremin @rains-mae @yccoffeesimp @bloomiesty @moon-taffy @superdark-soul @pinkismyfavcolor @isa-l0v3r @its-astrotea-love @reapersan @junephantom21 @erisfayred @greyrain23 @justadekusimp @uzxotic @alisstaa @avalordream @unlivingdisaster @pix-stuff @sleepyxion14 @pillows-blankets @anicega @junni-berry @niaainthere @sorachitsuki @dyingsweetmackerel @rosariymchapter @immahuman @fluffy-koalala @momoniq @orphiclueur @insightedly

[angelus-scripturae]

Pls pls write anything for Astarion. Like maybe an imagine, idk. I would much prefer something fluff but literally anything else is fine.

I'm starved :(

Well baby I’m gonna feed you tonight. Can’t have my lovely followers starving now can i?

Astarion Ancunin

Nightmares

Summary: You comfort Astarion after you defeat Cazador (not ascended)

Themes: Hurt/Comfort, fluff, mentions of suicidal thoughts and abuse, gn! reader, no use of y/n, no specified pronouns, (shitty writing because this is my first time writing in 2 years)

Astarion couldn’t sleep. Not that he didn’t want to, but he physically couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes, phantoms of his past plagued the skin behind his eyelids.

He should feel better. Cazador was dead. The ritual was stopped and his kin were saved. So why did he still feel trapped?

He shifted in his bedroll a few times before letting out a frustrated sigh and sitting up. Running a hand down his face and glancing around the dark tent you shared. The only light being the remaining embers of the fire outside.

Experimentally, Astarion attempted to close his eyes in a futile last attempt to rid himself of the visions. Only to flinch and open them again upon seeing those agonised faces and mutilated bodies.

Sensing the sudden lack of presence beside you, you begin to stir awake and feel the bedroll beside you only to feel it empty. Feeling a jolt of panic, you open your eyes fully only to find your companion sat barely a foot away from you.

Astarion’s head turns as you join him in sitting up. “Sorry if I woke you.” He mutters and runs a hand through his hair. The frown on his face highlighting his fine lines and blemishes.

You shake your head and yawn as you come into a comfortable sitting position. “Don’t apologise…” You shift closer to him but stop once he flinches slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Worry laces your voice as you reach out to touch Astarion’s hand. His hand twitches as if wanting to pull away before he lets it close around your soft skin.

“It’s nothing, darling.” He forces out a chuckle. An obvious attempt to brush the subject off. You’d known him too long to fall for that. You let out a small sigh and move to sit as close to him as you could.

“Star… You can’t lie to me.” You smile sadly at him. “Tell me what’s bothering you. You can trust me.”

Astarion hesitates. Even after months of adventuring with you and getting used to your heroism and kindness, he still struggled with the fact that he could trust you. It’s not that he didn’t want to. He trusted you with his life. But it was still new to him.

“I spent 200 years not trusting anyone…” He speaks quietly. “200 years… suffering at the hands of that maniac.” He swallows as if trying to gulp down a lump in his throat.

“I’m supposed to feel free… happy. I’m finally able to live without the fear of being used as a pawn in some sick plan…” He squeezes your hand ever so slightly, trying to find comfort in the warmth of your skin.

“But I don’t, that bastard is dead and yet I still feel him looming over me. As if gloating that his death was quick.” His voice cracks a bit before he clears his throat. “Do you know how many times I wished for that? Preyed? A quick death to save me from him and my torture?”

His words made your heart break into uncountable pieces. Your eyes softening as you shift to hold his other hand with your free one. “Star…” You start only for him to cut you off.

“You killed him though… I know that…” He clears his throat again. “It’s silly for me to still worry about him. And the people he made me hurt.”

You shake your head and move to get a glance at his face. “Astarion, it’s not silly.” You speak softly, letting go of one of his hands to cup his face and turn his face to yours. “You’ve gone through so much. More than I can even begin to fathom. What you did was not your fault. You were coerced and manipulated by a man who was selfish and ruinous.”

His eyes finally move to meet yours, instantly softening once he sees the kindness in your gaze.

“You’re a different man to who you were under his power. A better man. Even if you don’t believe it. I’ve seen it.” You smile softly and run a thumb along his cheekbone. “It’ll take time to move on from this. This has been your life for centuries. Those habits will be hard to break, but I’ll be right there. By your side. Because I love you.”

Astarion smiles as his eyes gloss over with emotion at your words. “You mean that?”

You nod and press a soft kiss to his nose. “With my whole heart.”

He leans into your touch. Moving closer until he’s able to press soft kisses to your lips. “I love you too.” He whispers against your lips before pulling away and lieing back down on his bedroll.

Your smile widens and you lay down with him. Your head resting on his arm and your body pressed against his in a comfortable silence. No other words needing to be said to explain the bond the both of you share.

Your eyes get heavy again quite quickly as your breathing steadies drifting into a state of rest. Astarion glances down at your sleeping face with a soft smile and moves some of your hair to give you a kiss on the forehead.

He takes a deep breath, readying himself to tackle his demons again. However, for the first time in days, closing his eyes didn’t bring visions of victims and abusers.

But visions of you.

[onyourhyuck]

Dirty, Little, Traitor. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Since you won’t help me finish up, I don’t think I’ll let you finish.”

— Summary: Wherein you asked your roommate Mark to help you out with rearranging your room but ends up rearranging you instead.

— Genre: Roommate smut. Minors dni. Mention of porn and masturbation. Slight bicker back and forth. Pettiness. Edging and leaving them at the orgasm. Mark becoming frustrated and so he takes his frustration on Y/n by rearranging her stomach…. We love that. Handjob(I guess?) fingering female receiving. Nickname ‘Princess’ used. Unprotected sex. Pls use protection irl.

— Notes: This was fun to write.

Credit for Plot: @markleelately <3

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You know what really sucks? Rearranging your room. Do you know what sucks the freaking most? When you’re the only one rearranging your room. You asked your roommate multiple times to help you out but in fact they were so busy on their games or whatever they are doing. You don’t even care you asked them to stop and come into your room to help you with your furniture but instead they ignored you. They must’ve ignored you.

There’s no way they would ignore your shouting voice. You sigh one last time as you put down the mattress you’re struggling with and you shove out of your bedroom with a deadpanning expression on your face that can only scream death. You might murder your roommate today.

Knocking was now heard on the door which you hear shuffling footsteps on the carpet approaching the door. When it opens it reveals a blonde young man. He was very handsome, he had those round black eyes staring into yours and they always gave you a slight hitching moment with your stomach turning into mush.

However you cannot get distracted by how hot your roommate is. Not now anyways.

You scowl. “Mark help me out with rearranging my room. I called you like fifty times.” You swear you probably called him over more than fifty times but for dramatic effect you just tell him you counted. Mark rolls his eyes. He really didn’t want to help you out when he’s very much busy with his own things now. You tend to always interrupt him at the wrong times.

Mark looks back at you. “No.” He said and then walks back inside as the door slams in your face. You drop your jaw to the floor. “No?” You repeated with a now incoming soft laugh. You brush your hand through your hair as you laugh some more repeating his response. No? He said no to you? How dare he. You bite your bottom lip and point to his bedroom room with your finger tutting it around.

You’re going to make him regret that.

What could he be so busy with exactly? You don’t want to be rude about this. He has his own life that’s quite obvious however, you hate to think that he was very busy to the point he couldn’t help you out to do just one thing for you. One thing.

Mark doesn’t really do much around the place anyways. You tend to be the more organised one and lord forbid if Mark ever did any chores. It’s like he’s very much allergic to anything that involved cleaning the house or doing chores around the place.

You stand there taking in your roommates rejection. You should’ve told him he has no choice. He has to help you and that’s the end of the story. You sigh. But then your mind was completely taken off by the thought of him being busy — you start to hear overlapping videos through the door. You hate to admit it but you heard moans. Female moans seemingly like it’s from a technology advice. Mark was watching porn on his laptop and he’s now going to wank off?

You can’t believe it. You interrupted his relief time now. You can’t help but think you had a plan to get him on board to helping your rearrange the furniture now.

“Oh just you wait Mark Lee…” You scowl as you approach the wifi box. It would be a shame if the wifi stops working right? And every electricity in the house stops working Hm? Yeah that would’ve terrible wouldn’t it…

What a shame. You think. Mark should’ve helped you out when he had the chance and offer up because you’re definitely not someone to hit or miss with a rejection. He should’ve just said yes and helped you out with this one little thing and then he could’ve went back to doing his business. As your hands brush over to the plug connecting the wifi to the box you smirk and pull it out when you could hear Mark’s distant voice moaning.

Mark was gaining close and closer to his orgasm. To his own high that he’s been chasing for a while now and you’ve been telling him to do the furniture rearrangement he’s been trying to jerk off his own hard cock for the past thirty minutes or so . Now that he’s pretty close, he was anticipating the orgasm to wash over him. Instead he heard the video stop and his eyes widen.

Did the video just stop? Mark with his free hand checks the wifi connection and it said nothing. Then his computer started to shut down and he cursed slapping the laptop down.

He knew exactly what and who did this. Mark was extremely pissed off now. If anything he’s never been this frustrated in his entire life. He puts back on his shorts and boxers on groaning. He really hates walking around with a solid hard-erected fucking cock around the place. It’s not pleasant.

“That Dirty, Little, Traitor…” Mark frowns as he opens his bedroom door muttering his words under the breath. He was fuming anger at this point.

When he saw you standing by the wifi box he could feel his own anger boiling like he was becoming cooked alive. You really did turn it off at the wrong time when he was about to release. It wasn’t fair Mark thinks. He didn’t deserve this but you feel like you don’t deserve disrespect. Especially when you’re probably the most pettiest person to ever insult and offend.

Mark starts to speak now but you could hear the literal anger building in his tone. You don’t like the way he’s speaking to you right now, so you put your hands between your hips. “Y/n what the fuck is wrong with you exactly?” He wished he could get a proper diagnosis on why you’re being so annoying to him right now.

You smirk at him. “Since you won’t help me finish up, I don’t think I’ll let you finish.” You can tell sexual frustration when you see one and Mark is hella fidgety and now very much all riled up because you interrupted a very important session of his time. His only free time. You like that you got him so worked up. Now you’re going to make him earn it or else he won’t like what’s coming.

For once in your life you saw a man standing there with dark widen eyes gazing into yours. He seems pretty upset but now that he knows you will not put the wifi on unless he helps you with your rearranging furniture he turns around and starts going inside your room with a cold expression. He really doesn’t like this. He didn’t wanna do this but he was desperate here. He wants the wifi back on. You smirk watching him turn around and go to your room as you planned.

You follow him now and you start to grab the free edge of the mattress. Mark ends up using most of his strength to help you move the mattress into a different position. It looks like you got bored of the way your bedroom layout it was.

He’s not been inside your room before. He took a glimpse like once or twice however Mark stays out of your zone and you stay out of his zone.

Your roommate then helps you move the cupboard and the drawers in your room around until you like a position.

Mark feels like he is your slave a little. He puts the drawer to the far right and you shake your head. “A little to the left…” Mark sighs as he hears you say this. He starts to move the drawer a little left now. You tilt your head thinking if you like this position.

It feels like you’re definitely punishing him right now. Mark can’t shake it off but he’s pretty frustrated down below and what’s worse? You’re standing in front of him pretending like this was nothing and not a big deal.

You smirk. “Actually go back to the right one again…” Mark looks at you now with a proper deep gaze that pierced your soul. “Y/n I am not your freaking slave. I helped you out with the heavy stuff now let me go and put the wifi back on.” Your roommate finally snapped at you and you raise an eyebrow crossing your arms across your chest.

“Hmm… no.” You trail. Mark scoffs back at you and he approached you. If you won’t let the wifi back on then he guesses you can help him out now by shutting up. You feel him approach you and your heart skips a beat suddenly. You never seen him make his way to you so intimidatingly and when you’re pressed against your cold bedroom wall now by Mark you feel his hot breath tickle your cheek. You grew red when he looks at you like you’re a meal to be devoured because one, you never ever been this close to Mark before.

And two, you can feel Mark’s hard erected cock pressed on your leg when he has you pressed against the wall in your bedroom. “This isn’t funny Y/n. Stop torturing me.” Mark trails now gazing at you. “If you won’t put the wifi on, you’ll have to help me out now with my own big problem.” He now said darkly to you and you swore you felt your life flash between your eyes when he leans down to kiss you now. You feel your heart racing. Why was your heart racing exactly? The kiss felt too good however. You start to lose yourself in it and Mark seems pretty decent at kissing.

Actually that’s a lie he was freaking amazing. You really need to stop humbling Mark because you never thought he would be so good at this. The way his hands took every second to roam on your beautiful body. He loves every curve. He tugs on your hips pressing you even deeper against the leg he has between your thighs now and you feel the rock solid cock through the fabric of his shorts press now against your lower belly. You feel so caught off guard why was he so hard? You never realised it but you’ve been edging him without even thinking it’s this bad. Mark had a pretty needy problem down below.

He certainly had a big problem. He wasn’t lying when he said it was a big one. The kissing he did so passionately against your mouth irks goosebumps on your skin. You feel like you’re exhilarating at some point the more he kissed your lips like this, so deeply and so roughly you feel like you would explode any second. Your stomach was fluttering like an opening lotus. You feel the way your breathes we’re both so heavy now you can hear it in the silence of your rooms and you can hear Mark’s mouth exploring you so calmly.

He was so calm when he’s kissing you but he’s also so desperate at the same time. It’s like he was a lot more calmer and less frustrated but also a lot more desperate and needy just for you.

You never thought you would love kissing your roommate like this. Never in your life have you thought about making out with your roommate because he was horny. And now you’re equally horny. It’s the little things he does to you too. The way his fingers run down your lower back now and position you against the bed you positioned together. He actually did most of the work with the heavy furniture.

Mark never thought he would be here doing your furniture for you and now he’s going to do you on those furnitures all day long until he’s satisfied. And you’re going to have to deal with it all.

“On the bed, trousers off now.” Mark rasps out when pulling only an inch away from your mouth with his eyes closed. He slowly opens them and you let out a low wispy breath. You did exactly as he said, removing your trousers and he reconnects your mouths together for another kiss. He did the pleasure for you by wrapping his fingers at the bottom hem of your shirt and pulls it off letting your arms freely slip out.

He watches how you’re now eagerly kissing him back as much as possible. He can’t help it. He likes it when you’re becoming as equally into this as he was now. Mark finds it extremely attractive when you kiss him back some more and let your tongue slip in boldly which soon leaves you breathless because that was a bad move. Mark easy took you out with his own tongue wrapped around your own. He controlled you from the simplest possible angles and actions he made. You didn’t last long between the dominant war your tongues held together. Mark won it with ease but that’s okay because the pleasure your tongue received was rewarding almost.

You hate losing the most but when it came to this, maybe you don’t hate losing so much.

Carrying more your own body starts to become worshipped with kisses. Mark travels down his tongue on your neck and collarbone. You purr out your shivers and fast gasping moans when he did this. The fact that it leaves you full of goosebumps really makes you wonder if Mark figured out how your body works or if he’s just so good at pleasing the person he’s with.

Mark smirks hearing against his tongue gasp like this. Your moans were much better than the ones on the laptop video anyways. He definitely found something better to use now than his own hand. He grabs you forward and makes you lay down flat on the bed as he kissed your neck with his lips motioning forward.

He puckers at the softness of your skin and that leaves you begging for more instantly. Mark can tell you’re into this a lot more now.

It’s about to get better for you the more this continues.

When he motions down his hands at your exposed sex you found yourself admitting to the new reality that Mark has now slipped in one finger inside your walls and you feel the pressure building up so much you wail up your head and coo out your moans so softly. Mark thought you were in a different dimension for a minute with the way you react so different now.

He never thought you would look so irresistible with his single digit inside you. It’s already getting you some good extreme reactions he wonders what happens if he puts in his second finger? Mark admires how spread out on the bed you look and your loose arms weakly grab on his forearms and elbow area everytime he pumps the finger in and out of your hole.

You frown out. “Oh god Mark…please don’t stop.” You couldn’t help but lean your head back more against the bedsheets and pillows that is supporting your head. You feel them wrinkle with each movement you move your head around as you take the pleasure. Mark was now on his second digit inside you and it had you squirming to the left and to the right constantly. He enjoys watching you struggle a little.

Perhaps this will teach you a lesson not to interrupt his own private time.

He smirks and suddenly he flicks forward his wrist curling the fingers against a dense but sensitive area inside you and you hitch your moans all the way down your throat. You wanted to say something but you couldn’t. That is how good it felt with Mark’s hands so deep inside you.

“You like that huh?” Mark said watching your expression that’s frowning at the pleasure. You were drowning in the feelings he gave you and your body. You nod frantically at him, so pathetically he thought but he enjoys that side to you.

He smirks. “Should I stop?” And you shake your head as you deeply gasp. “No…! No… don’t stop.” You shake your head now frantically, again, you didn’t want him to stop.

Mark trails now as he felt like you’re gaining up on your orgasm. He won’t be that nice to have your first orgasm with his own fingers. You pause as you feel Mark’s fingers leave your hole and you complain out already at the emptiness missing inside you.

He smirks and looks down at your confused expression. “Sorry princess but you’re going to have to cum on my cock instead.” He vows as he straddles his hands against your ankles just sliding you a little closer to him. He spread you pretty well and you whine. “Oh please… I was really close.” You couldn’t help it. You really wanted your orgasm right there and then.

“I don’t think you deserve to have such a quick orgasm, Y/n, not after you turned off the wifi.” He smirks cockily and you couldn’t help but think how much he has you wrapped around his fingers right now. You lean your head back some more. “I really needed your help with the rearranging though…” you tell him hoping he would understand your solution.

He found your words amusing. “Oh yeah? Well now your insides are about to be rearranged darling.” Mark laughs a little now as he positions out his harden tip against your entrance and pushed it in only a little and then takes it out again. He was teasing you with this knowing you want him inside you now.

You groan at the words. You love how they sounded. It seems like your furniture weren’t the only thing needed to be moved around. When Mark finally enters you it feels like a whole different sensation. The fingers that were deeply inside you felt a lot more different from how his harden shaft was making you feel. It felt so much thicker, better and also had you pulsing around his length so much. Mark never thought he would be addicted to the way his roommate’s walls feel like clenching around his own harden cock with every stepping thrust he does inside you. Mark moves up against your thighs rocking you forward and backwards like you’re a moving seat.

You croak out your moans into your hand which soon didn’t help because the more Mark moves his lingering shaft inside you the more your voice overlaps outside louder and louder with each syllable. Mark cannot help but feel so amazing when you feel your stomach go tighter. “Shit, shit, shit…” Mark paused when he feels himself growing even more intense by how you feel so tight now around him. You’re purposely clenching and pulling him even deeper. Now that your legs wrap round Mark’s waist. Your bodies were inseparable. “You’re making me go deeper… ah my lord…” he seethes now as he watched your outline expression.

You look complexed out by everything he’s doing to you and your body. It feels like your brain was fried and that you’re ascending into another world. Another level of pleasure. You feel so good though and it’s definitely no denying it but you’re fucked out until you’re going dumb with your roommate right now. It feels almost humiliating but at the same time you’re going dumb over Mark’s cock and it makes him feel proud that he can provide you this opportunity and moment to you.

It’s safe to say he won’t let this live down between the both of you. He will never let this moment die out.

When you tightly clench Mark only pistons himself like a motion with jabs stroking himself to go even more faster and now you feel yourself slipping out of your own body, like your soul has left now completely and abandoned your body and mind.

“Oh my…! Mark…! I-I’m so close… you’re being too quick.” You weren’t expecting your orgasm to inflict so quickly inside you right now and when he only started to move so much faster in such inhuman strokes. You feel yourself trembling and finding your eyes widen as day.

Mark didn’t stop at all even though you told him he was being too quick for you to handle your overdue orgasm. He was fucking inside you even more like the rent was due.

He only whispers to you as he kissed your jawline loving how you’re screaming his name like this. “Cum right now, this is the only time you can cum.” He told you as if it was a warning. A threat even. You can’t help but whimpering out your own voice. He had such authority over you that you started to orgasm on his own command terms.

When they orgasm infects you so badly you rest there with your eyes rolling back and Mark continues to thrust in when your orgasm was happening on top of you. It felt like you’re becoming double penetrated; by your orgasm and by his thrusts never loosing the pace. He continues to become very fast now that he was chasing his own orgasm.

Within that moment you feel your second high coming now and you feel yourself become warm again and you moan again now. Mark feels himself grunting.

“You’re about to come again aren’t you?” Mark’s voice was so deep and breathy but also very keen when he spoke to you. Mark was definitely amused by how much he’s done to you. He’s making you orgasm again, and again.

You cannot help but feel almost embarrassed but at the same time you like the fact that you were having such a good release when it was with your roommate.

You choke out an incoming sobbing moan. “Y-Yeah… oh god… I cant…! I need to come… Mark, I need to come.” You wail out your words that don’t even make sense to him anymore because Mark’s mind was a cloud now. He was getting cloudy and he didn’t pay attention on anything when he felt his cock twitch deeply inside you with that final deep thrust he has jabbed forward against your hips.

At this point Mark responds a little late to your words but he flung his head back groaning. “Oh princess I’m about to fill you up…”

The way his hands grab on your own hips too and pull them down which makes your orgasm feeling even more powerful. You came together this time and your second orgasm felt even more better than the first one you had. Now that you have milked every last bit of him inside you. You stir up every drop not leaving anything slip out except Mark flooding himself inside your own womb.

You take a minute to blink out of the pleasure at the front of your window. The bedroom only held your pants and your silence before Mark and you regain your concentration again. You try to conceal your redden skin on your cheeks because you feel quite warm, not just warm but overwhelmingly warm from your double orgasm and getting filled up with Mark’s warm liquid makes you feel even more inflated and full.

You somehow like that feeling however. Of being full of your roommates splutter.

Mark smirks a little down at you as he can see your red cheeks and he leans closer towards your body and whispers. “So… do you need anymore help rearranging your furniture?”

Maybe he can help you out some more with your furniture after all…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Please reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out <3.

[weirdsht]

cale with someone that just get red in the face easily?? like they don't even know they're red in the face and people thinks it's cute,, but it's embarrassing at the same time??

Unwanted Hue - Cale/Reader

tags: gender neutral reader, 4+1 fic, vague novel spoilers

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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The first it happened you didn’t even know you were blushing. In fact, up until this moment, no one has mentioned just how easily your face turns red.

Just how many times did you unintentionally blush and people got the wrong idea?

You don’t want to think about it.

“Oh no no, I’m not embarrassed really! I’m not even sure why I’m blushing.”

Reassuring the poor red kitten, you touched your face. Indeed they felt a bit hot to the touch. 

“But I accidentally told them your secret…”

What happened was that the children averaging nine years old are currently hanging out with you. They were talking amongst themselves while you brushed the kitten’s fur. While talking, Hong accidentally let it slip that you like reading cheesy romance novels. And for some reason you started blushing at the revelation making the kitten panic, thinking you were embarrassed.

“It wasn’t a secret.”

You reassured him. And it honestly wasn’t. There was just no reason to bring up that you like such things.

The children looked at you and nodded in understanding. You thought they got the message that they understood.

However, you missed the silent conversation they had with their eyes. Telling each other that they should keep this fact a secret for you to not be embarrassed anymore.

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Please stop teasing _____-nim. Look they’re so flustered they’re sweating.”

Ron gently dabs the handkerchief on your face. Drying the sweat that has accumulated on your forehead.

“No, I wasn’t flustered–”

“I’m so sorry _____-nim. I didn’t mean to make you feel such a way.”

“Wait no, I wasn’t–”

One of the wolf children didn’t hear what you said and just went on his merry way. Probably going back to the training grounds.

That same child had just asked you earlier if you’ve ever had a significant before. You have not, but that’s no reason for you to be flustered about it. You fully understand that the one has just not come to you yet.

So why are you blushing?

It’s just that a few minutes before meeting that child, you had accidentally zoned out while soaking in warm water. The steam made your already easily flushed face even redder while making your forehead sweaty.

“I will be on my way now. I’ll make sure that the children do not ask you such questions.”

“But I didn’t mind…”

You mumbled to yourself as you watched Ron’s back walking away from you.

+~+~+~+~+~+

You think you’re getting used to the fact that people always misunderstand you because of your face. It’s not like the misunderstandings it caused will result in life or death so you let some of them be.

However, it doesn’t take away the embarrassment paired with it whenever someone has the wrong idea about you.

“So you really are Commander Cale’s significant other!”

The Bear King exclaims loudly for everyone to hear.

“Wait no–!”

“No need to hide it. Your face tells me everything.”

You touched your cheeks, feeling the hotness from your palms. You were indeed blushing. But it’s a lie that you were with Cale.

You wish for the ground to eat you alive.

This is so embarrassing. Usually, the misunderstandings are just between you and your friends. Not a large scale like this where it’s from the enemy and other people are listening.

Curse your easily flustered face. Curse the enemies. Just curse everything.

You’re sure that rumours are going to spread very soon.

“Just listen to me–”

You try to retaliate as the bear attacks you.

The worst part about this whole thing is that none of Cale’s close circle is here to defend you against the allegations.

“AHAHAHAHA! Are you afraid because I’ve found you’re secret? That I’ve found your dear commander’s weakness?”

Just what kind of bull–

Anyways, since this idiot is so insistent on not hearing you out you just attacked him. Maybe if his severely injured after this battle the rumours would not manage to spread.

You don’t know how you’ll explain what happened once the news gets to Cale…

+~+~+~+~+~+

“Look how cute they look when they blush!”

“But I feel bad for making them feel embarrassed…”

Another day, another person misunderstands your emotions because of that stupid blush on your face that easily appears.

At this point, you’ve given up trying to correct people.

It’s not like they listen anyway.

Today the duo getting the wrong idea are Cage and Jack. With the former enjoying the redness in your face.

“So how does it feel to be the young master’s rumoured significant other? When are you guys gonna put up an official announcement?”

Cage joked. She knows that you aren’t actually together. However, she finds joy in teasing you.

“Does young master-nim know about it yet?”

Jack asks you, trying to change the topic to save you from the embarrassment. To which you are thankful for.

While you are not embarrassed yet, despite what your face says, you will be soon if Cage continues with her teasing.

“I don’t think he knows yet. There’s another rumour about him circling after all. I think his too busy extinguishing the fire out of that one first.”

The excommunicated priestess nodded in understanding while poking your red cheeks.

“That’s true, but say _____. Why do you look so cute when you’re all flustered and embarrassed like this?”

“I keep trying to tell you that I’m not–”

Knock. Knock

As you were about to explain yourself someone knocked on the door. The Sun God Saint opened the door to see Cale with a bewildered look on his face.

“_____ did you know about the rumours circulating about us?”

Sigh

You sighed as you got up from the couch you and Cage were sitting on.

Guess you have a lot of explaining to do.

+~+~+~+~+~+

Once you explained what happened with the Bear King to Cale he immediately understood. He too has been a victim of their overthinking and their ability to jump to absurd conclusions. That was why he wasn’t mad.

In fact, he seems to use you as an excuse at every chance he gets.

“I would love to chat more with you. However, my significant other is not comfortable in such crowded places.”

Both of you are currently attending a celebratory banquet and Cale is using you as his getaway excuse.

“Oh my is that so? I guess they’re the shy type. Just look at how red their face has become!”

The noble lady ushered the two of you to give you privacy. You’re not really shy. It’s just too humid in here that your face is going red.

Cale thanked her for her understanding before grabbing your waist to lead you out of the hall.

You can hear almost everyone coo at how you become redder at his action.

“Sometimes your easily red face can be useful too.”

Cale smiles and you don’t need a mirror to know that your face has gotten even redder.

…At that moment you swear to yourself that you won’t tell anyone that you actually felt flustered because of the young commander.

[fear-is-truth]

peter maximoff oktoberfest headcanons

a/n : for @delusional-fantasising … did a lil research about “oktoberfest” but pls do not hesitate to lemme know if any mistakes are made ! xo

doesn’t want to wear traditional bavarian attire at first, but the second he sees you in a dirndl, he’s in.

you have to keep fixing his suspenders because he wears them too loose and keeps complaining that they’re slipping.

peter’s favourite event is the wiener dog races. he’s practically vibrating with excitement, dragging you to the front of the crowd to get a good spot.

he names each dog as they line up. “look at that guy—he’s definitely a ‘frankfurter fury.’ oh, and that one? ‘bratwurst bandit.’”

his commentary during the race like, “go, little buddy, run for glory!”

secretly tries to bribe one of the racers with a piece of sausage he swiped from a food stall.

“look at him, babe,” peter exclaimed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as he pointed at a tiny dachshund in a hotdog costume. “that little dude’s got the heart of a champion.” you rolled your eyes, tugging on his arm to keep him from leaning too far over the railing. “peter, you can’t get this emotionally invested in a dog you just met.”

“too late,” he crowed, eyes glued to the starting line. “i’ve already picked my winner. frankfurter fury’s taking it all.”the race began, and peter immediately started screaming, “run, buddy! don’t let bratwurst bandit catch up!”

peter doesn’t drink much, but he loves the beer tents—live music, cheering, and general chaos.

challenges you to a beer stein holding competition, dramatically flexing and pretending it’s a life-or-death battle. loses because he gets distracted by someone walking by with a huge-ass pretzel.

he’ll pull you onto the dance floor, spinning you around and making exaggerated dance moves that resembles a mix of running man and robot.

at one point, he grabs your hands and dips you dramatically, nearly falling over in the process.

peter insists on trying every ride. yes including the kiddie rides like bumper cars. he puts his gamer skull to use—ramming into other riders like a total maniac.

the two of you end up on a ferris wheel. he gets uncharacteristically quiet, fidgeting a little before blurting, “you know, this is nice. you’re, uh…you’re really pretty with the lights and stuff behind you.”

peter has a mission to eat one of everything. giant pretzels, bratwurst, roasted almonds—he’s juggling snacks in both hands and still stealing bites of yours.

“sharing is caring,”

buys you a lebkuchen heart that says “ich liebe dich” (“i love you”) on it

“you’re gonna finish that, right?” peter asked casually, eyeing your bratwurst like it was the last one on earth.

“maybe,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “…why?”

“no reason,” he chirped, leaning against the nearest table. but the moment you looked away, the bratwurst disappeared from your hand.

“peter!”

he was already halfway through it, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk as he leaned against a food stand. “mhm what? you weren’t eatin’ it fast enough.”

you crossed your arms, glaring at him. “fine. next time, i’m not sharing.” “babe, c’mon,” speeding back to your side, peter kissed the corner of your mouth, and when he pulled back, he was smirking. “you’ve got something on your lip.”

you reached up to wipe it, but he stopped you, brushing his thumb across your lip instead. then he licked it clean with a satisfied hum. “what would you do without me?” he teased, handing you a new bratwurst he’d probably swiped.

“…probably eat in peace,”

peter is obsessed with all the kitschy oktoberfest souvenirs. you got matching hats with a feather tucked in it. he buys a cuckoo clock as a “totally practical” souvenir.

peter doesn’t just win at carnival games—he fucking destroys them. he plays ring toss, dart games, and shooting galleries. “here, hold this,” he says, dumping a giant stuffed bear into your arms. when you ask if he’s showing off, he just smirks. “nah, i’m just naturally awesome.”

peter isn’t usually one to stay still, but he loves sitting on the curb with you to watch the colourful parades.

when the candy-throwing starts, peter uses his speed to catch as much as possible, stuffing it into his pockets to “keep for later.”

[justalonelybitch]

Teach Me

Yunjin x F!Reader

Genre: suggestive

Warnings: suggestive content, prepare for death by yunjin pls people

Buy Me A Coffee :)

Yunjin hummed quietly to herself as she aimlessly scrolled through social media, a proud smile tugging at her lips as she came across a photo of you posing on the set of your drama. Her eyes instinctively travelled down to you, where you head rested in her lap as you read over your script for the upcoming episode. Her brows raised inquisitively at the sight of your flushed cheeks and widened eyes as you stared at the paper before you. “What’s up?” She questioned, gently nudging your shoulder to get your attention. You wordlessly handed over the script, rolling over to hide your face against her stomach as an embarrassed whine escaped your lips. Upon hearing Yunjin chuckle a few moments later, you sat up with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you pouted.

“It’s just a kissing scene, Y/n. It’s not a big deal,” Yunjin said with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, eyes dancing with amusement. “Speak for yourself,” you grumbled, features tainted with frustration. “Wait a second,” she mumbled in confusion, head tilted as her mind rushed with thoughts. “Don’t tell me..” Yunjin’s face lit up in realisation as you turned away, avoiding her gaze. “You’ve never kissed anyone?!” She shrieked in disbelief, heat rushing to your face as you nodded stiffly. “Really?” Yunjin questioned incredulously, brows pinched doubtfully. “Is it bad that I haven’t?” You questioned, feeling insecure under her watchful gaze. “No! Of course not, there’s nothing wrong with that.” The older girl assured, giving your shoulder a comforting pat.

“This is so embarrassing. My first kiss is going to be aired on national television,” you complained, burying your head in your hands. “What am I gonna do?” You whined in frustration, a groan leaving your lips. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Yunjin tried to reassure you, but even she wasn’t convinced. She knew it was bound to be awkward, and as a result you would end up embarrassed and humiliated. “Unnie help me!” You pleaded innocently, forehead creased in a frown. “What am I supposed to do?” She questioned, instantly regretting her words as she watched your eyes light up in excitement. “Teach me!” You cheered, her eyes widening comically as she stared at you, mouth agape. “What?” Was all she managed to utter, shuffling away as you began to crawl closer to her.

“You know how to kiss right? And it’s better I learn from you than someone else, that would just end in a big scandal.” You reasoned with an innocent smile, her brows sewn together as she struggled to disagree with your logic. “I don't think that’s a good idea,” Yunjin muttered, anxiously gnawing on the inside of her cheek. “Why not?” You questioned, lips jutting out in a pout. The older girl hummed thoughtfully, sighing upon coming up with no excuse, or perhaps she just ignored anything that came to mind. “Fine,” she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose as you squealed delightfully. “No one can know about this,” Yunjin warned, sending a stern glance your way, to which you eagerly nodded. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” you promised, cheeks suddenly flushing bright red.

“Um, how- uh..I don’t know what to do,” you grumbled in annoyance as you stared down to your lap with pink cheeks. “Just follow my lead,” Yunjin spoke confidently, swallowing her nerves as she focused on you. Her hand darted out to grasp your jaw between her thumb and forefinger as she tilted your head up to meet her gaze. She began to hesitantly lean forwards, eyes darting between your lips and eyes that swirled with nervousness. “Close your eyes,” she instructed in a whisper, nose cautiously nudging against yours as her lips lingered just short of yours. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you let your eyes flutter shut, curling your fingers into the duvet to keep your nerves at bay. It felt like minutes passed before you finally felt her lips brush against yours, butterflies swarming to life in your stomach.

Her lips were far softer than what you’d expected, taste so intoxicatingly sweet your head spun. You let her guide you as her lips began to move against yours, hand beginning to gently massage your jaw in hopes of soothing your worries. Yunjin’s free hand moved to grasp yours, briefly intertwining your fingers as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. She then brought your hand to her neck, silently urging you to mirror her actions rather than anxiously fiddling with the bed sheets. Hesitantly snaking your hand around her neck, you found comfort in the way she patiently guided you through everything. Pulling back to catch her breath, she let out a breathless chuckle at the sight of lip gloss smudged on mouth, her lip gloss to be precise.

“Did I do it right?” You asked quietly, eyes swarming with uncertainty. “You did great,” Yunjin shot you a reassuring smile, painfully aware of the way her heart thrashed wildly against her ribs. “C-Can we practice more?” You managed to stutter out, voice shaky as your hands trembled ever so slightly. “Did you think I was done?” She inquired smugly, lips curving into a smirk as she pulled you into her lap. A small squeak slipped past your lips, hands rushing to steady yourself on her shoulders. “That was only the beginning,” Yunjin purred with a mischievous glint in her eyes, surging forwards to connect your lips in a less gentle kiss. Your eyes widened comically before snapping shut as her tongue darted out to swipe across your lips. She hummed gratefully at the taste of your sweet chapstick, urging you to part your lips.

You clung onto her shirt in search of support, the fabric caving beneath your touch, much like you were for Yunjin. Her tongue pushed past your parted lips, dancing with your own, her hands dropping to rest at your hips. She felt herself becoming addicted to the flavour of your enticing lips, kissing you with an eagerness that made you feel giddy. Yunjin didn’t know what possessed her to do it, but she was so hypnotised by your taste that she couldn’t stop herself from pressing an experimental kiss to your jaw. She held her breath as your shoulders tensed, lips curling into a smirk against your skin as she heard the faintest sigh of pleasure slip past your lips.

That was all it took for Yunjin to lose control, lips trailing further down your neck. It began with gentle pecks, then sloppy open mouthed kisses and finally light nips as she gripped your hips with a desperate firmness. “Yunjin-” Your breath caught in your throat, head tilted back as she freely marked your neck. “Unnie?” You called, voice shaky as you made a weak attempt to push her back by the shoulders. Her tongue darted out, swiping over the reddening skin as she reluctantly pulled away. You looked at her with wide eyes, swirling with an innocence that left chills running down her spine. Her eyes travelled from your doe eyes to your glossy lips and then finally to your neck. It was littered with marks ranging in colour, marks that she’d left. 

“Fuck- I’m sorry,” Yunjin rushed out apologetically, averting her gaze guiltily. She’d foolishly allowed herself to get carried away. But god did you look good after being inadvertently claimed as hers, your skin tingling in the wake of her lips. The older girl sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as her thoughts ran wild, the idea of you being hers most prominent in her mind. Now that she’d had a taste she couldn’t trust herself not to get addicted to the intoxicatingly sweet flavour of your lips. “Yunjin?” Your hesitant call pulled her back to reality. She hummed in response, knowing her voice would shake with unspoken desires if she let it. It was only when you decidedly reached out to grasp her hand that she finally lifted her head to meet your gaze. Her breath hitched when her wide eyes met your pleading ones, oh she was so fucked. 

“Teach me more.”

im just gonna leave this here 🤭

[myownwholewildworld]

chapter 9 | main masterlist | ao3 | series masterlist | chapter 11

pairing: outbreak!2003!joel x f!reader. (it's actually 2004 now) summary: recovery, if at all possible, is hard work ― but you're not alone. joel is there to hold your hand, through thick and thin. until death do you part. a/n: hello there! c: i hope this chapter puts some of you out of your misery, because it did me lol i'm sorry for the emotional damage you have endured so far, i'm giving you all a hug and forehead kisses 🫶 hope you enjoy this one! as always, all interactions welcome. thank you all so much for the warm welcome this series has gotten so far! love y'all 💖 p.s. there's a second a/n at the end of the chapter 👀 warnings: 18+, mdni. angst. being sick. references to suicide and navigating grief. mentions of blood and murder. description of wounds. joel takes care of you. a bit of fluff. reader talks briefly about her past with her family. reader is female, no other description given. reader is mid-late 20s, joel is 37. no use of y/n.  joel’s and reader’s pov. dividers by @saradika-graphics w/c: ~5.8k. taglist aka the drama wagon at the end of the chapter (let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list pls!)

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t do this to me, not yet, please―”, Joel’s voice faltered as the lump in his throat threatened to suffocate him.

Panic was running so high, he couldn’t even hear his own racing thoughts. His shaking hands hovered over your cheek before cupping your chin. Your eyes were shut, your lips slightly parted, your hand still resting across his chest. To unknowing eyes, you just looked asleep, but your skin was burning so hot that Joel could only touch your forehead for a few seconds at a time.

“No, c’mon, wake up”, he whispered as he sat back up on the bed, holding your frame between his arms.

Fear froze him in place, his muscles cramped. Joel knew what was about to happen, but he had had no time to digest it yet, to wrap his head around the fact that you were going to die. He couldn’t lose you ― not you too. His heart shrunk painfully in his chest, oppressing his lungs to the point where it was difficult to breathe. The panic he had managed to keep at bay was overtaking his senses, setting in quickly.

Joel forced himself to breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale ― until his heartrate dropped to somewhat normal levels. He could still feel his blood rushing through his veins in waves, but at least his chest had stopped hurting a little.

He looked down at you, burning in his arms. A fleeting thought crossed his mind ― why were you having a fever so severe? He had not seen anyone come down with a temperature when bitten, although he never stayed around for long enough to find out, so what did he know?

But it didn’t really matter how it was happening, but that it was happening. Joel was not ready to let you go, even though he promised he would murder you when the end was near. You had taken it back, but once he accepted, there was no turning back.

Joel Miller was many things, but he was not a quitter nor a liar. He would be true to his word.

He caressed your cheek as you shivered so hard that your teeth chattered together, brushing his mouth against your forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m here”, he mumbled, although he was not sure if you were listening.

His heart flipped again at the realisation that he needed to make a decision about the when. Letting you suffer like this, when the end was inalterable, was cruel of him. Extremely cruel, especially because you were not able to stop your own suffering as you had wanted.

One hour, one hour and then I’ll let you go, he pledged to himself as he enveloped you in his arms.

This time you trembled so hard, you ran your elbow into his ribs. Joel mouthed an exclamation as he held you in place. He might be cruel, but not so insensitive to let you hurt like this. So he laid you down on bed and got up to run to the en-suite bathroom.

He almost sighed with relief when he saw a big bathtub. Praying for running water, he opened the tap and almost thanked God for the miracle. Joel let the water run for a few minutes until it came out clear. He tested the temperature, and it was so cold that the hairs on his forearm stood up.

Joel returned to the bedroom and sank a knee on the mattress to pick you up. You whimpered something, but your words were so slurred he couldn’t understand what you had said.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I got you”, he reassured you, his lips gently pressing against your temple.

Lifting you off the bed, Joel walked towards the bathroom with you curled up in his arms. Your bottom lip was quivering because of the effort your body was making to generate heat. But you didn’t need your core temperature to rise up but to come down and Joel knew that.

Sucking in his breath, he stepped in the bathtub, the cold water a shock to his body. But he was not going to leave you alone, not when you needed him the most. He would crawl through living hell on a path full of broken glass for you, so a bit of cold was not going to kill him. He slowly sat down, keeping the balance, and set you down between his legs, your back resting against his torso.

“Fuck”, he whispered while his body acclimatised to the cold water.

You suddenly groaned and Joel’s alertness went through the roof. He held you in his arms as you stirred, trying to get away in your haziness.

“Cold, so cold”, you mumbled, your eyes fluttering open for a brief second, your trembling hands looking for something to hold on to.

Joel captured both of your hands in one of his so you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

“I know, I know, baby, but I need to cool you off. You have a fever”, he reasoned with you, but your neurons were firing up so much with pain that your brain could not really register his words.

“Joel, it― it hurts, please make it stop”, you begged, more unconscious than awake.

The lump in his throat grew bigger at your plea. He knew he had to do it but couldn’t find the strength. Was he a coward? Was he so afraid of solitude that he would put you through such hellish torment?

“I will, darlin’, I will. Just gimme a minute, please”, Joel murmured against your temple, holding you tight, his breath shaking with anticipated sorrow.

He did not want to say goodbye. Joel was fucking scared of bidding you farewell ― his heart racing so fast, the pain in his chest returned worse than before.

Joel remained still in that bathtub with you in his arms for half an hour, until his skin was desensitised. Your shivering calmed down to the point it was almost non-existent now and you had stayed quiet for the last five minutes, your chest rising and falling in a steady pace.

His movements were slow and smooth, not wanting to wake you up as he stood up still holding you. Stepping out of the bathtub, Joel grabbed a towel nearby, walked you to the bed again and carefully laid you down on the bedsheets. With light touches, he dried off your damp skin, ensuring he did not wake you up at any moment. You looked so peaceful, so painless now, he didn’t want to disrupt you too much.

With pursed lips, Joel gently removed the wet bandage protecting the bite and concernedly inspected the gnarly wound on your forearm. The teeth marks were so clear, he could count a full set of adult teeth. The lesion was still festering, blood and pus oozing out from time to time. But, weirdly enough, it seemed to be better than a few hours ago. It was less reddened, less swollen and, overall, less hideous looking.

You had to be a trooper if your body was really trying to heal that, because, from what he knew, there was no coming back from being bit by a clicker. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as Joel feebly patted the wound with the clean towel and replaced the bandage with a fresh one.

He then clothed you and as he was putting on your foot the last sock, your eyes opened for one second, full consciousness still evading you. You were in and out, catching brief moments of lucidity.

“Joel? I love you”, you managed to whisper before dosing off again.

“Me too, darlin’”, but you were too far gone again to hear him say it.

One hour turned into fifteen. Joel had gone through all five stages of grief in that time, and now was back to square one.

Denial.

This could not be happening to you ― you did not deserve to die like this. You were a very bright light on the shore, the lighthouse who guided him home when he thought everything was senseless, pointless. You had managed to teach him how to weather the worst tempests, how to keep the boat afloat even though the waves were bigger than him. Joel had been able to touch the sand for the first time in what felt like a lifetime of loss, all thanks to you. You were a beacon of hope, of positivity, and you deserved so much better than this.

Why you? Of the thousands of people walking this damn earth, why you? Destiny was laughing at him, snatching you away when he had just let himself feel the love you had so sweetly offered.

Anger.

He pinched the bridge of his hooked nose while the fingers of his free hand nervously played a melody on the arm of the chair he was sat on. Joel was pissed off at himself, for allowing himself to feel, to doom you the way he always did the people he loved.

One look at you, curled up on bed, was enough to make him hate himself for what he did to you. He might not have been the one who bit you, but he was the one who put you in harm’s way first. Had he been more attentive, less in his head, he could have prevented it from happening.

A shimmering but fading rage consumed what remained of his broken soul. Like a city burnt down to its foundations, only a barren wasteland prevailed inside his empty carcass. 

Bargaining.

He got up from his resting to aimlessly walk around the bedroom, his sight never leaving you, worry distorting his features.

If he could, he would trade places with you in a heartbeat. Damn him, he would sacrifice countless people in your name if that meant you could remain by his side. You were worth more than a thousand lives in his eyes. Joel would kill for you, would commit atrocities for you if that meant you could be with him.

He probably was a selfish motherfucker for thinking that way, but his pain was blinding his judgement. And you would hate him for it ― he could hear your voice in his head saying, “I’m not worth that much, Joel.” But you were, yes, you fucking were.

The thought of not having you by his side brought overwhelming anxiety upon him, one he thought long forgotten.

Depression.

His demons caught up with him in the end.

With a heavy, trembling sigh, he sat down on the bed. Tucking a stray hair strand behind your ear, his gentle touch lingered on your neck. Your heartbeat was strong, and Joel wondered how long it would take for it to slowly die out. And at that moment, his would wither away too.

He just didn’t have it in him anymore ― Joel felt defeated, purposeless. Life would eventually become meaningless, and he would destroy himself, just like Tommy had predicted. His brother would be better off without him too, so there was no point in looking for him and his new-found group. It still pained him how quickly Tommy had ditched them, as if he could not wait to get rid of them, of him.

When he lost his precious Sarah, Joel deemed the world an inhabitable place. Darkness became his most trusted companion at the most dreadful hours of his existence. Until you shone a light which scattered the gloom away.

Acceptance.

It is what it is, Joel thought, conquered by the dreary circumstances.

He was no god, so couldn’t change the past. Your fate had been attached to his the moment you two met. And like a moth attracted to light, Joel could not stop but fall for you. You had showed him what true romantic love was and he should be grateful for the time he had with you. And he was but was greedy too ― he had wanted more. So much more, even in this post-apocalyptic world.

Joel bent down to kiss your forehead, realising your fever had subsided when his lips didn’t burn like before. At least he had done one good thing for you. Joel laid down beside you, wrapping you in his arms one last time before he would become, once again, the ghoul. Your ghoul.

Just one more minute to pretend, he told himself. Joel had finally come to terms with what was expected of him.

And then, as promised, he stood up and stilled in front of the nightside table where the gun had been resting for hours now. Two bullets were all he had left, but it was more than enough for what he intended. This time round, you would not be there to stop him ― it was almost poetic that his goodbye to you was a mirror image of how you two met.

Surprisingly, when Joel reached for it, his hand was steady, his finger wrapping around the trigger with a determination he did not really feel. His mind had gone blank the moment his palm caressed the grip.

The faster, the better, he coaxed himself as he checked the magazine one last time.

As if his soul had left his body, Joel watched himself from afar turn around to face you. The barrel of the gun delicately kissed your forehead. He wouldn’t look away ― if he was strong enough to kill you, he should be too to watch you die at his own mercy.

A blur of memories impregnated your brain, so vague you could not differentiate them. Or were they just a product of your imagination? You were not sure. You were a baby, but you were also a teen at the same time ― the chronology was so mixed up you could not tell the different versions of you apart.

You felt like your brain had melted inside your skull and were not able to produce logical thoughts. It really felt like mush after all the hurt you had endured. You barely remembered anything except for the searing pain that had consumed you, overwhelming all the nerve endings in your body to a maddening point. But after being surrounded by a blanket of coldness, you felt substantially better.

As time went on, your thoughts had become clearer, but a crushing sense of tiredness rendered you bedbound. Your limbs felt like jelly, your eyelids were glued to your globes, and your throat felt so dry that if you tried to pronounce a word, the effort would tear at your vocal cords. So you let yourself be swayed by the gentle waves of your imagination, drifting away into a realm of soothing possibilities. A place where nothing bad could ever happen ― a place where you had your happily ever after with Joel.

The passing of time escaped you ― for all you knew, it could have been days when you started to feel better. Your body had almost fought off the ailment that plotted your demise, although it still had a few battles ahead. Even if you had begun to come back to your senses, you were lucid enough to understand you could not push yourself into normalcy just yet.

Suddenly you felt a cold touch on your forehead and slowly wrinkled your eyebrows. Joel’s lips were usually warm when they brushed your skin, not icicles numbing your feeling. It took you a few attempts, but you were finally able to flutter your eyelashes enough to see.

And what you first saw once you regained consciousness was the barrel of a gun pointing at your forehead. Holding the firearm was Joel’s hand, gripping it so hard his knuckles were white. You had to blink again to clear your sight, cloudiness still fogging the edges.

“Joel?”, you called out, focusing your eyes on his for the first time in what it felt like ages.

He did not respond. The silence was so dense, so filling, you could listen to both of your hearts pounding hard against your chests, as if they were trying to escape and reunite, soothe one another until they calmed down.

“Joel”, you repeated, your voice raspy and hoarse.

You saw the doubt, the fear, dancing freely in his pupils. They were so dilated you could barely see the beautiful brown of his irises. Joel’s eyes were slightly widened, his breathing so agitated his chest moved up and down quickly. But the gun never left your forehead, his hand balanced.

“Fuck me, now I’m seeing things too”, he whispered so low you almost didn’t catch his words.

As the hefty mist dissipated in your brain, you understood what was happening.

You had asked, he had committed. Joel was about to put an end to your suffering, just as you requested. But there was no more suffering within you, not to the point where you wished yourself dead. Now it was… manageable.

He really was going to do it, even if it meant killing the last remnant of humanity within himself. Such act of selfless love brought tears to your eyes. You truly had to love someone to be able to let them go. To be the executioner’s hand ― the sacrifice was even bigger. Joel willing to forego his own being for you meant so many things, it was difficult to put them into words.

“Joel, look at me. Look at me”, you mumbled controlling your wavering tone as you gently pushed down the barrel by caressing his hand, your thumb gently rubbing his skin.

Even though he had been watching you, he was not really seeing you. But your request seemed to finally pervade, because you saw the change in his eyes ― a spark lightened, the brown gaining ground to the black. They broadened while focusing on you for the first time.

“Baby?”, his voice broke on the second syllable, the gun falling on top of the mattress.

You nodded, teary-eyed, as you tried to sit back up on bed. But you were still weak, dizziness overtaking your sense of balance, making the room go round you in a dangerous spiral.

Joel felt your light-headedness as his own, because he quickly sat down beside you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders to keep you close to his torso.

“What― How― How are you feeling?”, Joel stammered for a second, not letting his hope win against dooming reality.

“I― I feel better.” You looked up at him, his gorgeous eyes pulling you in so fast. Your surprise was reflected on his pupils, none of you really understanding how it was even possible. “I don’t know, but I do?”

“Promise me.” He requested, not demanded, while his fingers traced the outline of your jaw, subtly caressing the skin behind your ear.

You turned your head to kiss the palm of his hand before glancing up at him again.

“I promise, Joel.”

He sighed so hard, you felt his relief pouring out. And so did yours, although you didn’t want to get your hopes up, in case this was the crash before the falling. You had not had an experience close to death before, but it surely wouldn’t feel like this. The agony your body had gone through, although still lingering, was not even half of what it had been some time ago.

The pain had receded, but the overall ill feeling still remained. Your immune system was up in arms, and you could literally feel it fighting off the infection. Your forearm, where you had been bitten, itched like hell. Unaware, your fingers tugged at the bandage, looking for some relief to the uncomfortable feeling.

Joel’s fingers laced with yours to prevent you from scratching yourself.

“You’re gonna make it worse, sweetheart”, he mumbled before a big, heavy pause. “I don’t know if this is supposed to happen, if this the calm before the storm or― I don’t know, but I’m honestly grateful that you’re awake.”

You felt the uncertainty smearing his words. But you did know this wasn’t normal.

“It’s not like this. People start fading away, becoming unresponsive, twitching, you can see their souls leaving their bodies. And you try to talk to them, reason with them as they get closer to you, you ask them to keep their distance and… and they just can’t control themselves, even if you beg them. Sometimes it takes hours, sometimes days, but they only get worse, never better…” You explained, memories of a far-away life flooding back. You kept the tears at bay.

Joel cupped your chin, forcing your head up so he could examine your expression. His lips formed a flat line, his jaw clenched, because he felt the affliction in your explanation.

“Who?”, he simply asked.

“My brother. He… he got infected first. Mom and dad, they… had to snatch him off me. They both got bit in their trying to save me.” You choked on your own words, that moment was too painful.

But it was the pain what reminded you of your love for them.

It was the pain what, for now, kept their memory alive.

“My dad had to… you know, shoot him so he would stop coming for me.” Not being able to contain it anymore, your eyes welled up with thick tears. And Joel wiped away each one of them with his thumb as they ran down your cheeks. “Then mom went first. It took her like ten hours to completely lose herself. And then dad… he endured it for a day and a half. Towards the end, the agony was so great, he just couldn’t take it anymore.” Your voice became a whisper as you buried your nose in Joel’s chest, his hand gently running up and down your spine.

As you closed your eyes to keep the tears away, the loud noise of your father’s rifle ricocheted in your imagination. You couldn’t save him. He had asked you to go outside, to leave your family’s home, but you couldn’t just quit on him, on the man who shaped you into who you were today. So as the bullet fired and a thudding noise broke you, your knees gave way as your fingers tightly wrapped around the doorknob.

Joel kissed your temple, a comfort you had learnt to crave. “I’m sorry I asked.”

You shook your head no, not wanting him to apologise. And as you tried to reply, the back and forth of your head brought upon you a sudden feeling of vertigo.

The room spun around, the walls closing in, crumbling on top of you. And then you felt it ― acid rushing up your throat, the bile burning as it went up. Bending over yourself, you missed the mattress by an inch and threw up on the floor.

“Shit”, you heard Joel mutter as he held your hair back in a ponytail, his free hand rubbing the small of your back. “It’s okay, darlin’, it’s fine”, he reassured you, keeping close to you, his mere presence comforting you.

Luckily you had not had much to eat, so you emptied your stomach rather quickly. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you straightened your back and Joel immediately hugged you tight.

“I’m sorry”, you apologised, mildly embarrassed although there wasn’t much you could have done to prevent it.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” He dismissed your apology while wiping the pearly sweet off your forehead. “The fever has not returned, but you should rest, you’re still weak.” Joel scooted over to the edge of the bed so you would have plenty of room to lie down.

You smirked at his concern but happily obliged. You were indeed very tired, albeit you had perked up since this morning. This morning. You had just realised it was dusking again, the twilight colours pouring in and painting the walls in its beautiful warm hues.

“I’ll go see if I can find a bucket and something to clean up.” He kissed your forehead before exiting the room.

The quiet peace in the room were so calming, you involuntarily shut your eyes. All your muscles ached, product of fending off a very high fever, as if you had spent a full day working out. You might not have lifted a finger in hours, but it truly felt like you just had had a marathon session in the gym.

Suddenly you heard a noise and startled awake. Joel had left a glass of water on the nightstand, and was down on his knees cleaning the sick off the floor.

“I was just resting my eyelids, I swear I wasn’t sleeping”, you said jokingly, a soft smile on your lips, as you reached for the glass and downed it to quench your sudden thirst and rinse your mouth.

Joel chuckled ― the first sign of laughter you had heard from him in what it felt like forever. Your heart made a little backflip in your chest.

“Sure thing. I think you should keep on resting your eyelids, you do need it.”

“But I just woke up”, you pouted, not wanting to fall asleep again. Not wanting to leave him alone.

He put the bucket with water and the cloth aside, his hands resting on his knees, and gifted you with one of his perfectly raised eyebrows.

“I ain’t going nowhere and I need you rested, so go to sleep now. Don’t drive me mad already, you just woke up”, his tone was somewhat serious, only softened by the grin transforming his mouth.

“I like you a little mad”, you confessed a universally known truth.

“I bet you do.”

Joel leaned over and tenderly kissed your lips. The faint, loving caress of his mouth was all medicine you needed, you longed for. So you scrunched the neck of his shirt in your fist, holding him in place, as you deepened in his mouth. Just a tiny taste, you thought to yourself.

The dancing that ensued was soft, undemanding. But then it gradually changed, the stroking of your tongue against his growing in intensity, your quick breaths becoming one as if you were sharing lungs.

Joel groaned and broke contact.

“No, sleep. You won’t distract me”, he rasped, clearing his throat.

Pursing your lips, you huffed, almost rolling your eyes at him.

“Sleep, I said.” This time it did sound like an order.

Was he afraid you wouldn’t wake up? Fucking yes, he was. From time to time, Joel would check on your pulse ― his lips subtly ghosting your artery to ensure it was still rushing under your cool, velvety skin. The fever had completely subsided too, which was a fucking relief. With light fingertips, he lifted your bandage just one inch ― the wound had stopped festering and, in fact, seemed to be healing.

He still couldn’t understand how you were recovering instead of succumbing to the bite. Were you immune? Because if so, a whole new world of danger would be lying in wait if someone discovered your secret. Most people would fear the unknown, would label you a freak ― a monster. Joel had gotten to understand human nature far too well in the last year, so he was already anticipating the worst-case scenario.

He could be mistaken though. Albeit the possibility was slim, very slim.

An uncomfortable groan slipped out of his mouth, trying to adjust his posture. With his arm under you, your nose nudging the center of his chest, Joel felt a tingling sensation running up his forearm. In his attempt to awaken his dead limb, you perked up at him, all sleepy and groggy.

“Sorry, can’t feel my arm anymore”, he apologised as you stirred against him, giving him the opportunity to free his arm from your weight. “Should go have a look outside, see how the bridges are holding up.”

You squeaked and pulled a face in your languor. “Mhmm, okay. But come back soon, I rest better knowing you’re here.” Your sincerity caressed the rough edges of his healing heart.

“You won’t even notice that I’m gone”, he vowed in a sough.

The silken linen draped around your waist, so satiny you thought you were surrounded by the soft pillows of a cloud. You felt rested, although still achy.

Pins and needles in all your muscles, every time you moved your flesh would protest. But despite the exertion every inch of your body had sustained, you felt infinitely better than a few hours ago.

With your train of thought coherent again, questions invaded your mind. So many, a cacophony of inner voices echoed in your brain. You grunted heavily, just wanting another moment of peace.

“Just shup up”, you told yourself, in the hopes that your internal narrator would heed the warning.

The heel of your hands buried in your eye sockets, forcing yourself awake. With care to not feel dizzy again, you sat back up on bed, your back against the cushy headboard. The room was silent ― so well isolated from the outside world you couldn’t hear how the city of Chicago was roaring.

What a rollercoaster the last two days had been. So much had happened you barely had time to take everything in. Your own calamity had eclipsed the tragedy of losing the people you allowed yourself to love.

But maybe it was better this way ― less emotionally draining. Maybe your heart couldn’t assimilate any more misfortune. Maybe you just should be grateful for being alive, even if it pained you ― even if survivor’s guilt chipped at you.

Feeling a knot in your throat, nothing to do with being sick this time, you slowly got up, testing your equilibrium. Once you felt safe standing, you walked towards the dresser in the room. You had sweated so much battling the fever, your clothes were patchy with perspiration. After rummaging through the belongings of the kind donor of the flat, you found a pair of jeans, a tee shirt. Your heart stopped at the sight of a measly Christmas jumper.

Then it hit you. You had spent Christmas Eve curled up in a bathtub with Joel, fighting for your life, and there were only a couple of hours remaining until Christmas Day was over.

Tears sprouting, the jumper wrinkled between your shaking fingers. If life was to be as expected, you would now be in Joyce’s living room, exchanging presents. You had traded some food stamps to get Joel an acoustic guitar.

Upon your arrival to Chicago, which now seemed to be an eternity away, he had told you how much he liked music, how soothing he found it to be, how his old man taught him when he was just a kid. You had asked him what his favourite song to play was, snuggled in his arms, and he had undoubtedly replied: Helplessly Hoping by Crosby, Stills and Nash. Joel had said, ghosting your lips with his, how much that song reminded him of you, but specially of himself.

That had tickled your curiosity. You had never heard it before so did some research into it ― but couldn’t find the lyrics nor the melody. By gifting him the guitar, you were hoping to listen to it from his fingers for the first time.

Now it would never happen, not unless you found another guitar, which was an almost impossible task. You had spent weeks looking for someone with a guitar they were willing to part with.

With a heavy sigh, you changed clothes and shuffled around the room, looking for bits and bobs that might be useful.

The sound of someone bursting in woke you up ― you had nodded off unintentionally on the couch. Your heart jumped out of your chest, racing so fast you almost threw up again. Joel turned the corner of the corridor, and you gasped.

His white tee shirt was soaked in thick red, green and black. It was obvious he had run into trouble and had to fight his way out. You got up, heart on your tongue, and closed the distance to reach him as he lunged himself forward towards you.

“What’s happened?”, you asked breathlessly. “Are you hurt?”

“Shit is coming down real fast. We need to leave the city. Now”, Joel whispered as he approached, but stopped before hugging you, realising all the dirt, blood and guts on his tee shirt.

You didn’t care. You wrapped your arms around his waist, your ear flat against his chest. The rhythmic pumping of his heart appeased you. Just a bit.

“Joel, are you hurt?”, you insisted, worried sick, as you looked up at him.

He shook his head no, cradling your face.

“I’m okay, but we gotta go, sweetheart. We can’t stay. The bridges have been overrun; the clickers are this side of the river now. If we stay, we die.” His words were infused with a sense of urgency.

“I’ve packed some bits while you were gone, in case we had to leave”, you remembered, pointing at the two backpacks on the sofa.

“What would I do without you?”, Joel praised you, pressing a faint kiss on your mouth. “I know you’re still not feeling great, but we don’t really have any other options.”

“I’m fine enough, let’s go.” No, you didn’t feel one hundred percent, but you would have to.

In less than a minute, you both were out the door and running down the stairs.

“I’ve got a car in the garage in the basement, running won’t get us far”, he said, tugging at your wrist to guide you down another flight of stairs.

“A car? How?”

“Don’t worry about it”, he answered quickly. Too quickly.

You all had to do what you must to survive. How he had obtained that car ― it didn’t matter.

Running towards the Jeep, you jumped in and so did Joel. The wheels screeched as Joel reversed and then pressed on the gas pedal. The doors to the garage burst open as the front of the car hit them. You held on to the handle as well as Joel’s forearm as he focused on dodging any obstacle in the way ― living or dead.

Looking through the window, you saw herds of people running. The screams filled the air, impregnating it with death and mayhem. It was dark, but if you had paid enough attention, you would have seen the devastation, the destruction.

Buy you didn’t want to see. You had already been witness to the end of the world. You didn’t need the reminder.

So you looked away, Joel’s rugged face being your focal point. You scrutinised his expression, the lines forming between his eyebrows and on his cheeks. How his lips pursed with worry, how he clenched his jaw. He hadn’t said it, but you read his body language too well. He was doing a great job managing his anxiety, but you knew it was there, flaring under the calm surface.

You glanced at the road ahead. A sign reading “Rockford” told you Joel was taking you west.

Whatever cardinal point he chose, it would be alright. As long as you had Joel by your side, you both would be just fine.

a/n (again): AHHHHH 🚨 the cat is out of the bag 😫 soo yea, reader is immune, been dying to tell you for ages now, THE RELIEF lmao but there's a reason to it (and it's hiding somewhere in the chapters!)! is anyone of you able to guess why? 🧐

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @pedrospurplerain @missladym1981

@fancyyoouu @smolbeanzzz @guelyury @bishtrouille

@harriedandharassed @thepalaceofmelanie @eternallyvenus

[aziawow]

now that we're here... (benny weir x f!reader) nsfw, 6.6k words

summary: in the heat of the moment, you and benny sleep together. you don't even kiss. a devilish plot (and teenage awkwardness) keeps you from talking to him about that night. the solution, however, might just be part of the very thing you're avoiding.

warnings: nsfw, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (DO NOT EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX!!! USE A CONDOM EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!), implied reader isn't a virgin, blood, language, devil mention, implied animal abuse, death (of ocs), panic attack. if there are any other warnings please let me know so i can add

notes: no use of y/n, she/her reader, can also double as a rory x platonic!reader bc they're such besties. this fic is so fun pls give it a read!

You’re not entirely sure how it happens. Seriously. Yes, you’re super ultra mega attracted to Benny, but you never expected this to happen, especially as suddenly as it did. 

You’re a planner, extremely detail oriented, and you’re almost never taken by surprise. Impulsivity isn’t you, it’s Benny. So what made you throw caution into the wind and do this? 

You’re not even together; you didn’t even kiss. 

Suffice to say, you’re freaking the fuck out. 

***

You and Benny are chilling together, watching a movie on his bed. It’s rare for you two to be alone, but Ethan had to help his parents with whatever, Rory was doing whatever Rory does, and Sarah and Erica were having fun in town. They invited you, but with the supernatural craziness of the last few days, you just wanted a quiet night in for once. 

Years of familiarity resulted in you and Benny being pretty comfortable with each other, so you were cuddled together, you mostly on top of Benny while you both made fun of the movie and stuffed your faces with popcorn. 

You think it happens because you got thirsty. 

One second you’re reaching across Benny to grab your drink, then another has Benny hissing through his teeth and grabbing you. He held you still, and you glanced up. 

His eyes were squeezed shut, and a peculiar red flush adorned his face. His breathing was quickened, and he was practically shaking. 

Startled by his behavior, you sat up, still half on his lap and completely oblivious. 

“Benny, what’s wrong?” You place the back of your hand on his cheek, thinking he might have a temperature. Hot, but not feverish. You scoot forward a little to reach his forehead, and Benny gasps. 

“Please,” he strains, “stop moving.” 

Your eyebrows knit together. He was making no sense. “What…”

Then, you feel it. 

Your leg was brushing against his very prominent, very hard, erection. 

“Oh,” you gulp.

Benny’s eyes spring open, his mouth starts to move, but he can’t seem to say anything. You know he’d try to shrug this off, tell you it’ll go away, and apologize to lessen the sheer awkwardness of the moment. 

You don’t want him to. 

His lips are parted, panting quietly, face blushing the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, skin sheening with sweat, and his eyes? One part horrified and the other completely and utterly aroused. 

You really don’t want to waste this moment. 

Without thinking, you place a hand on his upper thigh. Firm enough to not get lost in translation but gentle so he could brush you away if he didn’t want this after all.

Your eyes meet, confusion and hope and desperation swimming in his. Slowly, you slide your hand upward, waiting for him to swat you away. 

He doesn’t. 

When you reach his front, you apply pressure and palm him through his pants. 

Benny groans delectably, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. 

You can feel yourself get wet at his reaction, the burn between your legs throbbing as the seconds pass. The fact that one little touch from you elicits a response like this makes your veins rush with power. 

Then, he moans your name. 

You’re done playing. You unzip his jeans and push them down. Benny, who has all but collapsed on his pillows, eagerly helps you slip the rest of it off. 

You climb on him again, fully this time, and take him into your hands. You pump him a few times, having to wet your hands with your spit. He’s shaking under you, making these small pathetic noises that have you grinding on his thigh. 

He’s lasting for a lot longer than you expect a teenage boy to, especially a virgin. 

Benny surprises you yet again by sitting up abruptly, and you let him go. He takes his shirt off, and when it’s discarded somewhere on his messy floor, he presses your foreheads together, mouths breathing into each other but not quite touching. 

His hands play with the hem of your shirt.

“Benny,” you moan, when his fingers disappear under the fabric and press against your hot skin. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks, throat raspy and deep. You nod at him, and your top joins his on the floor before you can blink.

Your hands roam each other’s bodies, just feeling and squeezing. Benny nuzzles your neck and collarbones, pressing kisses and leaving nips here and there. You grip his hair and pull, feeling the whine of pleasure Benny lets out against your skin.

After a few moments of this, you realize Benny is nearly naked, and you still have your pants on. You pull away from him and sit up higher on your knees. When Benny realizes your next course of action, he wastes no time in helping you rid yourself from your pants, and when they’re gone, he grabs a handful of your ass and blinks up at you, wide and ready. 

You reach behind your back and unhook your bra, peeling it off slowly, almost painfully so, for Benny. You toss it aside, and all he can do is stare. 

You reach for his hands and place them on your breasts. When he starts to feel you up and squeeze, you throw your head back and keen at the sensation. 

“Fuck,” you gasp. You look down at Benny, and he’s peering up at you through his dark lashes with nothing but want behind his eyes. Instinctively, you pull his head to your chest, and your pleasure multiplies when Benny immediately starts licking and sucking and kissing you all over. 

Your legs are delightfully weak at this point, so you push Benny back down on the sheets and fall on top of him. You’re still touching each other and it feels like he’s become a second skin. You hardly register his hand going further down until it rests on your lower abdomen, toying with your panty line.

“Can I touch you?” he all but pleads, and who were you to deny him? 

You’re nearly sobbing when he slips his fingers into your folds, feeling the wetness he caused. You can tell he’s trying to finger your clit, so you decide to be a good partner and guide him to its location. You shudder when he finally finds it on his own and begins to rub, the friction nearly too much for you. 

You’re kissing and biting his skin, one hand gripping his sheets and the other skimming along his chest, your nails scratching and digging into him. You grind back on his hand, so he picks up the pace and you know right then you’re about to cum. 

“Benny,” you warn. “Benny, don’t stop.” 

He doesn’t, and you cry into his neck when you orgasm on his fingers. 

You both lay there panting, but you have no time to bask in the afterglow when you remember he hasn’t came yet. 

You get on your hands and knees above Benny, and you lower your face to his, still not touching except your hair brushing his. 

“Do you want me?” you ask. You want him. You want him so bad you don’t know what you’d do if he said no. 

He nods, and your heart flutters. 

“No,” you whisper. “I need to hear you say it.”

He nods again. “Yes. Yes I do. Please,” he begs. He starts to babble his affirmation and continues to do so when you get your underwear and his boxers off. You grip him and slick his head up with your juices, and when you finally sink down, Benny shuts up and you both sigh as you seat him fully inside you. 

You start to rock, fucking yourself with his cock and feeling so, so good. Benny’s hands find your hips and together, you find a pace as you ride him. Your hands are on his chest as you slide up and down on him. He begins to feel you again, your torso, your breasts, shoulders, and hair. You don’t want him to stop exactly, because it makes the pleasure increase tenfold, but you’re in control, and it's so hot when Benny does what you want. 

You grab his wrist and pin them on either side of his head, and the flash of lust in his eyes as you do so makes you smirk. 

You keep holding him down as you pump in and out of him, as you rock against him, but after a while your legs begin to ache. Benny, feeling you slow down, takes the reins. 

You let him go, and he wraps an arm around your body, pulling you down flush against him. The other hand weaves through your hair, angling your head once more into the crook of his neck. Holding you tight, he fucks up into you, and you feel something you never have before. 

For a virgin, he’s a natural at this. Your bodies know what they want and how to get it, the carnal desire guiding you the whole way. You can feel him pulse inside you, and you know you’re both about to cum when his thrusts grow quicker. 

“Benny,” you moan into his ear, and that’s all it takes. His motions get sloppier as he climaxes, but you don’t care because you’re in the middle of coming yourself. 

You’re laying there, trying to catch your breath and clinging together tightly. He’s practically hugging you, and you're running your fingers through his hair. 

You know you can’t stay like this forever, so you pull off of him, both of you wincing as you do so. You want to find your clothes and dash, but your legs wobble and you fall back down on him. 

You expected Benny to crack a joke like he always does, but when you turn around, he has an arm thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly, and you wonder if you should risk it and leave after all. 

But then, Benny wraps an arm around you, much gentler this time. “Good night,” he says softly, and he’s out. 

You’re actually grateful Benny doesn’t seem to be aware of aftercare, because you have no idea what to do, and would have even less of an idea if he stayed awake and wanted to talk about what just happened. 

You’re contemplating whether to stay or go, and when you finally decide, your eyes slip shut, and you cuddle into Benny’s warmth. 

The next morning, you have a proper freak out. 

You need to talk to him, you need to not talk to him. You need caffeine and a pregnancy test and a change of clothes. You need an ice pack and a salt bath because holy fuck you’re sore, Jesus Christ Benny. 

You need Sarah and Erica. 

Luck is on your side today, because as you make your way into school, there’s no sign of Benny. You find who you need chatting at Sarah’s locker, and when Erica sees you, she immediately asks what’s wrong. 

“Oh my god, I don’t even know where to start,” you choke. They blink at you and you start to ramble. “I did something so stupid last night, But it also wasn’t stupid except for the parts that were but ohmygod I need to tell you something. It cannot wait and I am freaking out.” You pause to take a breath. “I think my heart is about to give out.” 

“Okay, okay relax,” Sarah calms you down. “We have 20 minutes before first period. What’s up?” 

“Hold that thought, Sarah, I think she needs to sit down.” You nod, so the girls take you to a more private area, which turns out to be an empty classroom, and as soon as you get there you crumple onto the nearest chair.

“So… what's up?” 

You sit up, your whole body jittering with nerves. You wanna tell them so bad but you don't know how. This is a kind of confession that needs a strong lead to get there, but you’re totally blanking. 

“Well?” 

It burst out of you, “Benny and I slept together!” 

Neither girl moved. They stood there, gaping like fish. You knew they believed you, this isn't something you'd lie or joke about. Oh how you wish you were. 

“How?” Erica finally spoke.

You grimace. “Well, it was kind of an accident at first. We were just watching a movie, then we got really horny at the same time, and it just went from there.”

Sarah’s face twisted at your words. “Were you at least safe?” 

You pinched your lips together and avoided their gaze. 

Sarah groaned and Erica exclaimed, “Are you serious? That was so stupid!”

“I told you I did something stupid! I wasn’t really thinking about protection in the heat of the moment and I seriously doubt Benny had a condom laying around.” You stop then. “Oh my god. I took Benny’s virginity.”

At your words, Sarah and Erica looked at each other. “Ewww!”

“You did what?” a voice shouted from the previously closed door. 

Rory. 

Son of a bitch. 

Erica pulled him into the room and slammed the door shut. You’ve never been more thankful for her as she began to threaten Rory within an inch of his undead life. You expected him to wet himself, but Rory’s face was calm, and not the kind of blankness you’re accustomed to seeing on his expression.

He huffed. “No wonder Benny was being so weird this morning. I thought losing your virginity was supposed to change a guy in a good way. His face looked exactly like the time I accidentally dropped him in a dumpster.”

That… did not do anything good for your ego. 

“He hates me,” you pout. 

“I don't know about that,” Rory shrugs. “He asked if I saw you and told me to tell him if I did. Oh, well now that I’ve seen you, I should probably go tell him.” Rory started to walk away, but the three of you shouted after him and dragged him back. 

“Okay, jeez. I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Erica facepalmed and Sarah scoffed. “The big deal is that two close friends slept with each other. That’s not a thing friends do! It’s probably awkward for them!”

You sigh. “Guys, it’s more than awkward. We didn’t even talk about it. I left before he woke up.”

Erica gasps, “You did not.” Sarah and Rory both wince, and again, this did not make you feel better. 

“What was I supposed to say! It happened so suddenly—we didn’t even kiss!” 

The three of them pause and gawk at you. You threw your hands up in surrender. 

“It just didn’t happen. We were kinda focused on other things.” You were pulled back to the memory, his lips and hands everywhere, his whiny little mewls and pants hot and breathy in your ear… 

“Oh my god. She’s thinking about him right now, ewww!” Erica squealed.

“Wait, was Benny actually good?” Sarah asked in disbelief. 

You sigh dreamily, “Let's just say, if he wasn't already a spellcaster, he'd still have magic in his fingers.”

“EWWW!” Three voices cried in unison. Rory gagged and Erica covered her ears. Sarah closed her eyes, her worn expression letting you know she very much regretted asking at all. All three looked rather like a steak to the heart would be a perfect end to this conversation. 

The end, however, came in the form of the warning bell. Before leaving you swore all of them to secrecy, with an emphasis on Rory’s discretion. He gave you a thumbs up and said “You can count on me!” You were not confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut. 

Classes went on, but you were on edge in fourth period, the first class of three you and Benny shared, not including lunch. You got there early, as usual, and Benny came in second before the bell, also as usual. You didn’t dare look up at him when he walked by you, knowing it was him by his clumsy footsteps and the scent of his cologne. He sat behind you, and you felt the weight of his stare on you the entire class period. When the bell finally rang you were first out the door. 

Your whole group usually sits together at lunch, unless the dorks had a mathlete meeting or Erica decided to sit with her boytoy of the week, which happens more often than not. She promised to sit with you and Sarah today just in case a buffer (or a badass vampire) was needed. 

Rory is the first of the boys to sit down and starts yammering about his day. Apparently the stray cat he feeds in the junkyard went missing and it’s been days since he saw it and he’s getting worried. He was in the middle of the “epic” tale of their friendship and why they don’t try to eat each other anymore when Benny sits down. Right in front of you. Where he always does. Very normal, but you can’t ignore the shaking feeling that no, everything is decidedly not normal. 

Unfortunately for all of you, Rory trails off. 

The table is silent for a long, long while.

You want to say something so bad, you hate this awkward tension between the two of you, but you can’t speak. It’s like your voice was stolen by teenage embarrassment. 

You have enough strength of mind to meet Benny’s eyes, only you’re unable to read him. Is he disgusted? Regretful? If so, of what specifically? Is your friendship completely over? He just looks and looks. 

Just as a headache began to form between your eyes, Ethan barrelled into his seat in an anxious flurry. You’ve never been happier to hear the words: “Guys, I think we have a problem.” 

Your focus is 100% on Ethan now, you don’t even notice the pinch of Benny’s brows at his best friend's words, or the way his fingers twitch for his spellbook, or the way he licks his lips like he always does when he concentrates. 

It’s Benny, of course you can’t help but notice. 

Except, something Ethan just said actually pulled your focus. “Wait, you said you saw strange markings in your vision. Was there anything concrete? It sounds like whoever drew them and left the animal hearts and talismans were attempting a ritual.”

Ethan nods. “There were pentagrams all over my vision, and there was a flash of goat hooves and a clock.”

“A clock?” Benny asks. 

“Yes,” he confirms. “The hands were set to midnight.” 

“The witching hour,” you and Benny speak in unison. You snuck a peek at him, almost startling when you see he did the same. You dart your eyes away, and a sinking feeling hits you as you realize what Ethan’s vision most likely meant.

“Rory,“ you start slowly, “what color is your junkyard cat?”

Your friends tense as you say this, also connecting the dots. Rory, bless him, remains oblivious. 

“He has black fur! That's why I named him Shadow Ninja! I hope the little guy is okay…” Rory digs into his sandwich, and you don’t know if he’s being willfully ignorant to spare his own feelings, or if he genuinely knows nothing about superstitions. The group glances at each other, all silently agreeing to keep Rory in the dark. 

“We need to find out who’s behind these rituals. It’s one thing if they’re idiotic humans, but another if they’re witches,” Sarah comments. 

“What do they even want?” Erica asks. “What are the rituals for?”

“Well, if Ethan’s visions and the ritual’s remnants are anything to go by,” you muse darkly, “I’d guess they’re trying to summon the Devil.”

Benny hums. “Making a deal with the Devil is not good, Grandma says that all time. We need to find out for sure where the rituals took place.”

He begins to flip through his spellbook when Ethan asks why the location matters. 

Then, it hits you. “Ley lines.”

“Exactly,” Benny confirms, but he doesn’t look at you. “If they’re doing the rituals on the ley line, it’ll be easier to find out where they’ll go next.”

Sarah puts a hand on your arm. “Hold on, what are ley lines?”

“They’re invisible, mystical energy lines that run underneath the earth. They connect various historical sites, prominent landmarks, and sacred spaces to conduct the energy. They’re said to amplify the supernatural, so it makes sense if there’s one running through Whitechapel.”

“There is,” Benny says. He flips the book around and shows everyone the page he found. It details the line running through your province of Canada, but there isn’t anything you recognize. The map isn’t updated for the 21st Century, apparently. 

You make plans after school to go ley line hunting, deciding to split into three pairs to cover more ground, one vampire and one human in each. Out of everyone, you have the most success at keeping Rory on task, so you’re partnered with him. His protective side comes out most often with you, being the only fully fledged human of the group, no vamp, seer, or spellcaster powers in sight. 

You can fend for yourself of course, though you find fighting magic with magic more often than not solves the problem. It’s no bother to you when you have brains. You help Ethan make the plans and connect the dots, you don’t need to execute them. 

Admittedly, the idea of summoning the Devil scares the shit out of you, it also helps take your mind off of the Benny issue you’re facing. 

You and Rory have been searching for an hour and a half (with you only needing to pull Rory back on task three times) when you realize the section of the map took you to a familiar house in the rich part of town. 

“Rory,” you get his attention. “Isn’t this Jesse’s mansion?” He, briefly serving time in Jesse’s cult, frequented this house more often than that one time you paid an unwanted visit, would know for sure. 

“Oh hey. Yeah, it is.”

The mansion looks different than the last time you saw it. After Jesse’s imprisonment in the cubile animus, the place remained abandoned; and no one, not even the HOA, dared to mess with what he left behind. 

The lawn was overgrown, leaves and vines creeping up and curling around the corners and windows. The siding was darkened with dirt and grime, and some of the shillings had fallen off, leaving a gaping spot where it once lay. 

“Does the magic line go through the house?” Rory questions.

According to the map, it did, but you had a feeling it wasn’t this easy. 

“We need to get in and check it out. Something doesn’t feel right.” 

Rory walks up to the gate and pushes it open, the hinges squeaking and built up rust grinding as it opens. The two of you approach the former vampire den cautiously, the brick driveway filled with green in its cracks and all kinds of foliage strewn over the walkway left by wind and storms. 

Once inside the house, you shudder. It might've been abandoned, but the air felt dark and tainted still. 

“Hey,” Rory called from where he ventured further in, “I’m not sure this place is as abandoned as we think.” 

He’s right. In the corner of the living room, messy sleeping bags and junk food wrappers littered the entire space. There were school bags tossed haphazardly on a table, and books on every available space possible. 

You made your way to the kitchen area, where there was more discarded food, spilled liquid, and even more books. On the dining table, dried blood, a variety of talismans, melted candles, and ashes lay within a pentagram.

You made your way to the island, which was clear of everything except one book in the center.

Rory came up next to you and pointed. “I know this book. It has Jesse’s prophecy in it.”

You skimmed the book, and Rory stopped you on the page about the prophecy. You scanned the page, and when you saw a familiar line, you read it aloud: “The dead take root, the barren orchard bears the devil's fruit.’” You pause. “Rory, check the map. I think the ley line runs under Ethan’s house, specifically the tree in his backyard. They tried the ritual here, and it didn’t work. The other failed rituals happened at the church, the cemetery, and the stump of Whitechapel’s oldest tree. If they found this book, it won’t take them long to figure out their next spot, and I think it might actually work this time around. I mean, symbolically, it seems like the place to catch the Devil's attention.”

Rory’s eyes widened. “Woah. This is getting kinda scary.”

“I agree, we should get out of here before they get back.”

You start toward the door, but Rory stops you. His face twists regretfully as he responds, “Too late. I can hear them outside.”

His words make your blood run cold, and you hear the creak of the front door opening. 

As quickly and quietly as you can, you and Rory squeeze inside the empty walk-in pantry. You’re easing the door shut as the kitchen door slams open. 

“I’m telling you, that geek is onto us. He’s a seer, right? I bumped into him before lunch and I swear he saw something,” a husky, feminine voice said. Through the panes on the door, you can make out a silhouette of her, but nothing too clear. 

A hand slaps the counter. “Why does it matter?” Deep, male, and insanely grating. You can see his hulking frame lean on the island. “He might be shacking up with vampires, but they’re not invincible. They can’t stop us no matter what they know.”

Behind you, Rory murmurs, “I know them from somewhere.”

The first one sighs, apparently not hearing a peep even from a few feet away. “I guess, but his friends are vampires. The small one, Sarah, babysits him on Friday’s right?”

“Yup. But, with some garlic and a sharp wooden steak, it shouldn’t be too hard to negotiate for that virgin’s blood. And he doesn’t even need to die!”

“That we know of. The instructions say the blood of a virgin, who’s to say that doesn’t mean the life of one? The 17th century assholes who wrote it down weren’t very specific with the recipe.”

“And the awful fucking poetry. I could’ve done without that,” the guy scoffs. 

“Whatever,” the girl snaps. “We will do it tomorrow night after his parents leave. We get what we want and hey, maybe once the Devil himself turns us into vampires, we’ll kill the virgin anyway. I hear they taste the best.”

The two cackle, and their voices dim as they clomp away. 

You and Rory tip toe out of the pantry, keeping an eye on the door as you walk. The thing is, you’re not completely aware of your surroundings. In a stroke of bad luck, you trip on a stack of books, and they clutter noisily to the ground. 

You meet Rory’s eyes, horrified. 

“Who’s there?” the guy shouts. You hear the stomp of their boots getting closer, and Rory tugs you away to the other door and up the stairs. You follow him like you’re on autopilot, everything you heard and what’s happened catching up to you at the wrong time. 

You’re being pulled up another set of stairs and Rory kicks the bedroom door open. 

“This one has a balcony. Gord pushed me off it when I was learning how to fly.”

“What a dick,” you mutter and suddenly you’re gasping in the cool outside air. 

Rory grabs onto you right as the door flies open, the two satanists rushing forward. Not a second too soon, Rory takes off. 

A few minutes and half a heart attack later, you land on the designated meeting point, which was, of course, Ethan’s front porch. Everyone was there already, and you felt comfortable enough to have a panic attack. 

You’re still gasping and your legs give out on you. You’re caught by familiar arms, and Benny lowers you down to the porch chair.

“We—we found—the book. The lines—the tree, it just. They’re going to attack you! Take your, your blood. They wanna turn. They need him to turn.”

You’re not making a lick of sense to anyone, and Sarah starts to rub your back. 

“Breathe,” she says softly. She doesn't have the compulsion ability mastered, but you want to listen to her, so you do. 

“You found something? What happened?” Ethan asks. 

“Dude,” Benny chastises. “Maybe wait til she stops freaking out? Rory, what’s going on?”

Rory explains your findings as best he can, and you use the lilt of his voice to calm down. “The guy and the girl look so familiar. I can’t place it, though.”

With a huff, Erica reminds him, “They go to our school, genius, obviously they’ll be familiar.”

Rory starts to protest, “Yeah but, that’s not where I recognize them from.”

“Vampires,” you finally say. Everyone stops and stares at you. “The deal they want to make with the Devil is to become vampires. Why would they go to all this trouble when this town is crawling with them? I think it’s because they literally can’t. Vampires won’t turn them.” You twist your body to face Sarah and Erica. “Does the Council have some kind of banned humans list? Like, “Do not turn these people under the penalty of death” list?”

Sarah hums and furrows her brows together in thought. “I’m sure they do, I’ll go check,” and she vamp speeds away. 

“It’s the only reason I can think of. Anyone else have a theory?”

You look up from your place on the chair, and everyone (again) is staring. 

“That,” Benny declares, “was incredible.”

You meet his gaze, and for the first time since last night, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels… normal. Right. 

You smile at him shyly, and think yeah, you’ll be alright. 

A nudge to your side has your attention on Erica. Apparently she caught that little exchange. She quirks a playful eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders innocently. 

After that, it doesn't take too long for Sarah to return in a whoosh of air. “They do have a list! And it comes with pictures. Here,” she hands everyone a stack. Thankfully, it’s not too big. It only takes a few seconds before Rory spots them. 

Ethan nods. “Yup. I ran into her this morning and that’s when I got the vision. She didn’t seem too pleased with me.”

Now that you have all the pieces, you plan. 

A pizza is ordered and you all gather around Ethan’s dining table.

“These people know way too much about us, so what if we give them more?” Ethan suggests. 

You hum in agreement. You reach for a slice, and your hand brushes Benny’s. You lock eyes over the table, and he’s flushing that sweet red again. He retracts his hand, and you grin to yourself as you take the slice. 

“Like what?” Erica asks. 

“They think the ball is in their corner, right?” you explain. “So what if we change it up? Make them comfortable, make it even more easy for their plan to unfold, but what they don’t know is that we’re doing the same thing, only better.”

“Okay,” Rory remarks, voice laced with confusion. “What do we do?”

You and Ethan share a near manic smirk. 

“We’re gonna set a trap. Tomorrow, I will very loudly say in front of them that I’m Jane’s babysitter tonight instead of Sarah. That gets rid of one vampire, they think ambushing us will be a walk in the park if it’s me.” 

“Tomorrow night, you three,” Ethan informs Sarah, Erica, and Rory, “will be waiting in the shadows, ready to attack when necessary.” 

You take a deep breath. “Benny, you need to be with us.” 

Ethan startles. “What, why?”

You ignore him. 

“Benny, do you trust me?”

Instantly, he says yes. 

“Good,” you breathe. “You need to be the sacrifice.” 

Ethan protests immediately, and the others look at you like you’ve grown a second head. 

“Um, they need a virgin for the ritual, right?” Erica speaks up, deliberately slow as if you somehow forgot you were the one to change Benny’s virginal status. 

“Yes,” you confirm, and as subtly as you can, you explain. “They need a virgin to complete the ritual.”

You can see the moment it clicks for Sarah and Erica; unfortunately, Rory is more vocal with his understanding. 

“Ohhh, is it because Benny—YEOUCH!” He yells as Erica elbows him particularly hard in the side. 

Ethan’s eyes dart between all of you. “Uh, okay. Whatever. As long as it isn’t Jane, I don’t care who gives up their blood.”

The next day at school, you get the wannabe vampires hook, line, and sinker when you bring up your status as tonight's babysitter right in front of them. Unbeknownst to them, Jane is going to be safe next door with Benny’s grandma the second their parents leave for date night.

It takes a few hours for the “ambush” to happen, just minutes before midnight. You have fun pretending to act scared and whine when they tie you up, though you could’ve gone without the grass stains as the burly guy tossed you next to the tree. 

They make quick work of setting up the ritual, and hey, there's Shadow Ninja! Anger flares in you at the sight of Rory's friend tied up and muzzled like that.

When it’s all set up, they mix together what looks like the world’s most disgusting cocktail in a gold chalice. 

“Now,” the girl announces as the two stalk up to you, Benny, and Ethan. “Who will it be?” 

“We were gonna do mega geek over there,” the guy said, nodding toward Ethan, but then he points to you. “But what about her?” he asks his friend. 

The girl, the absolute bitch, throws her head back and laughs. “Her? Are you kidding? She’s a slut, no way am I drinking her blood. We need a virgin, not some high school whore, remember?” 

Your mouth drops open, “Well fuck you too! At least I got hot while I was still in high school. You wanna be eternally 17? I feel sorry you need a do-over when some of us got it the first time around.” That might not have been the best response, you think as she backhands you across the face, but it felt damn good to say. 

“Leave her alone,” Benny growls, eyes flaring, and wow, that’s hot. “Do not talk about her like that, I swear to god.”

The guy taunts Benny. “Oooh I think lover boy here just offered himself up! Gimme your arm, nerd.”

They aren’t gentle as they take Benny’s blood. You send them death glares every time he winces and hope this ridiculous ordeal is over soon.

You watch as they mix the blood into the chalice. They chant in terrible latin, and finally, they drink, draining the cup dry.

The air is still as you wait for a long moment.

Suddenly, they’re both doubled over in pain, clutching all over their bodies and heads, screaming so forcefully the veins in their forehead pop out. 

“We’re sorry!” the girl shrieks. “We don’t know what happened!”

The guy falls to his knees. “We didn’t mean to insult you—we did everything right, we promise!” 

“What do you mean,” the girl wails, and she spits up black. You realized then that someone must be talking to them in their heads. Him, possibly? 

The guy is shaking on the ground; he has the same black liquid spilling out of his mouth, and you know then that it’s blood. His eyes lock on Benny, and he began to crawl toward him.

“You!” is all he can gurgle out before he disappears in an ashy poof. The girl gives an ear shattering shrill, and a second later, she’s gone too. 

Sarah, Erica, and Rory emerge from their hiding place, instantly moving to free the rest of you from your bonds. 

“What just happened?” Ethan sputters. He didn’t expect that. What the fuck. 

“They messed up the ritual,” you smile. 

Ethan frowns. “Really? I don't see how.” 

Rory laughs and puts an arm around Ethan’s shoulder. 

“It’s because Benny took a trip to Bonetown,” he snickers, and you punch him in the shoulder as hard as you can. 

Rory makes an offended face at you. “Ouch! What was that for? I was just answering Ethan’s question.”

“Rory,”  You speak calmly, eyes closed. “Shut. Up.”

“What! We should all be thanking you! I mean, if it wasn’t for you, they totally would’ve summoned the Devil. Unless they chose Ethan instead but—”

“Rory, look! There's Shadow Ninja!”

The blond vampire squeals and tears off toward the tree, freeing his very much alive, but incredibly pissed off, feline friend. 

Only, the damage is done. 

You seek out Sarah and Erica, but they just shrug and chuckle awkwardly at you before vamping away. Rory, once he comes back with the squirming cat in his arms, senses the sudden tension he unwittingly created, and after a few seconds of deliberation decides the smartest move is to do the same. Jerks, all of them. 

You really, really wish Ethan wasn’t as clever as he is. You know the instant the explanation dawns on him. His mouth drops wide open and he points to Benny, who gives him an awkward smile. Then Ethan points the accusatory finger at you, and all you can do is pinch your lips together and watch him freak out.

“You—but how—why didn't you say—but that means—you exploded them with sex?”

He shakes his head and spins around, walking away to fetch Jane and muttering to himself like mad. Poor guy.

You and Benny are the only ones left of your ragtag group still lingering, so you walk to his house, and when you reach the steps, you can’t take it anymore. You blurt:

“We didn’t even kiss.” Benny stares at his shoes and bites the inside of his cheek. “We didn’t, so I didn’t know if you actually liked me or not. It was good, it was so fucking good. I should've stayed. I wasn’t thinking when I left the other day. I hate the morning after talk but you deserved so much better than what I gave you. I’m sorry. I like you Benny, I really do and I want to make this work.” You keep rambling, just saying what comes to mind and you’re still rambling when Benny cups your face in both his hands and pulls you into a blessedly mind numbing kiss. 

It’s everything you ever wanted. It's soft and sweet, yet firm and demanding, just like Benny. Your mouths move together skillfully, slotting together like they were made for it, and you’d like nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe any longer. 

He pulls back slightly, lingering in your space, breathing in your air. 

“If I invite you in, will you stay this time?” 

You don't have to think. 

“Yes.” 

[revasserium]

Im here to say that college!au opla!zoro is your most superior zoo version yet. Please share any more thoughts you have on this cute couple!!!! I love their dynamic so much

listen;;;;;; i love college!au opla!zoro so much. so…… because i am… unwell about this man, sfw and nsfw headcanons/snippets of college!au opla!zoro (most of this is based on the death before decaf fic where zoro is a fencer and reader is a physical therapy major):

sfw:

afternoon naps on the ratty old couch in the living room of his dorm; luffy is his roommate who is simultaneously never there but also randomly always there at the weirdest most inopportune moments

“what did you say he studies?” “uh… something about international policy but he got in on a sports scholarship too.” “yeah? what’s he do?” “gymnastics.” “wait — seriously?” “yeah he’s /weird/ flexible.”

sharing pizza at midnight, sitting in his lap as he scrolls through highlight reels of past olympic fencing bouts, his chin occasionally brushing against your shoulder as he explains all the different rules and moves; you can feel the light stubble, feel the deep rumble of his voice along your arm where it’s pressed against his chest

him kissing you awake, opening your eyes to find him smiling, smirking, more like — “morning…” “mornin’. you were drooling on my pillow.” “shut up!” “nah, it was cute.” more kissing, you trying to shove his face into the pillow, him easily pinning you beneath him, arching an eyebrow; you sigh, blushing, “it’s too early for this.” “it’s never too early for this.”

jerking apart when you both hear luffy’s voice shouting from the living room, “have fun you guys! i’m going to usopp’s to watch the game! don’t forget to hydrate and take breaks! oh — and i left guac for you guys in the fridge!”

“i thought he was gone!” “i thought so too —” zoro groaning when you hear the door slam, burying his face in your shoulder

study sessions where he’s just doing weight training in the corner and it takes everything you have not to be distracted by the shape of him, shirtless, powering through reps of bicep curls, when he drops to the ground for pushups, the way he grins when he catches you staring and asks if you want to help hold his feet down for situps

coffee runs in the morning, standing in line with his arm draped around your shoulders; nami grinning, “see? toldya making out would’ve solved things.”

pecks goodbye in front of the main lecture building, hearing the way the rest of the fencing team hoots after you turn away, hearing zoro loudly telling them to shut the fuck up if they don’t want their asses beat

him blushing up a storm when you wrap your scarf around him and scold him again for forgetting his own, saying that he needs to take better care of his body if he’s gonna make it to the olympics; him scoffing and looking away and, “well… i’ve got you to take care of it for me, don’t i?”

nsfw: (mdni beyond this point pls)

fucking the locker rooms post bout, his hand cushioned behind your head because say what you will about jock!zoro but he’s still something of a gentleman

netflix and chill saturday nights bc he doesn’t have practice sunday mornings and he’s not about to let all that time to go waste; leaving the tv on as he pulls you over his lap, fingers dancing up the sides of your waist, pressing you down over his cock, groaning when he fists his hands in your hair and pulls

drunk!fucking at frat parties in strangers bedrooms, bc who tf cares who this room belongs to as long as there’s a bed and a door that somewhat locks and sure, the sheets are gonna smell like sex after you’re finished but who’s gonna try and fuck with you when zoro’s always got an arm around you, when he’s got you tucked into his side whenever you’re together, even if it’s just studying at the library or sitting at lunch in the dining commons

the most jealous, possessive sex… bc. zoro doesn’t share.

making out in the stacks bc you said you were getting a reference book but you were gone a bit too long and zoro had come to “find you” only to find you trying to reach a book on a level that’s just a bit too high; him reaching up to pull it down for you, pressing a hand to your lower stomach and pulling you back against his chest, “need some help, princess?”

fumbling back to his dorm after said failed study session in the library, him kicking the door shut and tossing you on his bed, him mumbling some cheesy line about needing to brush up on his anatomy before pushing your knees up and burying his face between your thighs

[rottnteen]

yay! can you please write a mgg or spencer reid (nsfw) drabble based kind of that moodboard you made <3 it can be anything like punishing reader or teasing and reader just saying they can’t take it anymore :0? reader just being a needy mess not rlly able to speak. would honestly prefer spence/ mgg just being a soft dom but still stern on the rules? eeek i’m kinda nervous about submitting this but.. it’s rotting in my brain! 🎀

OFC! I LOVE REQUESTS! :D I also don’t write for real life people, only fictional characters (just so you know for the future <3) Don’t be nervous to send requests pls pls pls. I ENCOURAGE requests. pls send more :( This was meant to be a drabble but goodness gracious. I got carried away.

tw: MDNI, girly reader, afab!reader, needy clingy reader, soft!dom!spencer, teasing, punishment, smut, unprotected pnv, hand kink (obvi), degradation, praise, dom and sub relationship, girlfriend and boyfriend, kissing (oooo), pain, spanking, bondage (kinda), mention of a safe word, underlying tones of possessive!spencer, decryphilia

You hadn’t listened to his rules. He said you were being a “brat”, a word you hated. You had been sitting in his lap as he worked on some documents. That’s it!

At first, it was innocent.

But you saw the way his hands glided over the paper as he read, the veins popping ever so slightly. You hoped that the way your thighs clenched were going unnoticed by him when he flexed his fingers around his ballpoint pen as he wrote.

You held a stuffed animal he had given you, a bunny you’ve named Bun, in your own lap. Trying to distract yourself. Eventually, you started squirming. Your distraction not working.

Spencer was a patient man. He loved you and cared for you. But he also liked to stick to the rules. And distracting him from his work is one of those rules. He had quickly stilled your hips with one hand, the other trying to write. “Don’t.” His voice was soft but affirming. Not helping your arousal but deepening it. You’d let out a small whine at his words and he quickly tsked. “Listen.” He had said in that same voice.

That’s how you got here. On the bed naked (except for your thigh high socks) and spread open whilst he was fully clothed, sporting a large hard on. Your hands are tied to the bed post with his work ties. His fingers teased lightly on your inner thighs and you whine again, he slaps your thigh in disapproval. “S-spence…”

He shakes his head no, getting up and grabbing your bunny from the floor. “You think she is happy with the way your acting?” He asks, propping it up on the dresser. You let out a choked sob, moving your arms but to no avail. You cant get out of your position. “You know our safe word.” He tuts, “Now Bun is going to have to watch the way you get punished. I was hoping you’d be a good girl. Stay seated and wait till I was done.” He shakes his head. He comes back to you, his fingers teasing the lips of your cunt. Just as you think he’s going to open you up, he doesn’t.

He slaps your pussy, causing your back to arch and you to moan out in pain and pleasure. “Slut” He mutters and does it again, getting the same reaction out of you. Small pleas that are incoherent leave your mouth. Spencer’s fingers brush in between your thighs and he smiles. Grinning like the devil. He kisses your thighs and then trails them up your stomach up to the valley in between your breasts.

He chuckles and starts to leave love bites on your collarbone, neck and chest. “Mine” He whispers in your ear before kissing your earlobe and working his way over to your other to do the same thing. He crawls down from the top of your body back down to your lower half.

“I cant.” You whisper.

His grin grows, “Cant what?”

“I need more.” Your lip trembles as his breath ghosts over your heat. “I need you to fuck me.” Tears start at the corner of your eyes as he sucks little hickeys onto your hip bones.

“You gotta apologize. You broke my rules like a bad bad girl, bunny” He scolds

You sniffle, “M’sorry for breaking the rules like a bad girl,” You hiccup, “I’ll be a good girl. I pr-promise!”

He smiles at your crying; the tears falling down your pretty face. You bat your wet eyelashes and your cheeks turn rosy from the act. He comes up to your face and kisses your tears, bringing a finger to part your lips and you let out a moan at the small stimulation.

The sound is embarrassing. It’s wet. And sticky. And loud. Spencer loves it. He brings the finger to his lips and moans, a meek squeak coming from yours. He then undoes his belt. The sound causing your thighs to clench together. He takes his clothes off, stroking his cock as he comes to the edge of the bed and parts your legs. He puts your calves on his shoulders and lines himself up with your hole.

He slides in with no resistance, your tight cunt sucking him up immediately. His hand comes down to your thigh as the other holds one of your legs on his shoulders, “Was made for me.” He mumbles to himself. He looks down at you in bliss. Your mouth is open and your eyes are rolled back, your panting and you hold the ties with all your might. “Are you just a dumb bunny when a cock is in her?” He teases lightly, now thrusting in and out you while kissing your ankle to show love and affection. “Fuck”

You babble as he thrusts in you. Small uh’s or little moans of his name. He also hears you say he has the best dick, and that he can take whatever he needs. Soon your clenching hard and he brings one finger down to mess with your clit. “Cum.” He orders you.

Just like that, to his will, your body lets go. Arching for him and giving yourself to him as he cums into your body, a warm flood you welcome.

[set-wingedwarrior]

After today’s episode I saw, well within reason, a lot of people talking about Prospera’s brainwashing of Suletta, and I wanted to share my two cents.

First of all, my (probably) unpopular opinion: Prospera was kinda right this time.

DON’T KILL ME, LET ME EXPLAIN PLS.

So, Prospera’s technically right: they are being attacked my terrorists, they are in mortal danger, and they need to fight back to survive and save everybody, and that will mean most likely taking lives. Like, that’s fair. War isn’t pretty and survival demands sacrifice.

What’s really wrong and fucked up is:

 1) the way she says and explaines it. Her whole voice and behaviour, the words she chooses, so calm and chill and apparently comforting but actually really dismissive (and kinda creepy imo). She approaches Suletta and the whole situation as if it’s not a big deal.

But at the same time, she does underline that they’re in danger, even pressing on Suletta’s rightful fear in order to have her move forward and fight.

This isn’t a “this is unfortunate, but it’s either us or them” kind of speech, but a “we must get to our goal at all cost”. The line is thin, but there’s a difference. And, most importantly, it is portrayed as if it’s a natural progression and not just a situational thing.

The thing is, we saw Suletta impacted by death, and these words alone aren’t enough to wipe away your morals. That brings me at point two, the most fucked up and vicious:

2) how Suletta has been raised and educated until then. She’s always following her motto with a smile, and helping others, never letting anyone (aside her mother) see her sad or overwhelmed. And what’s her mother’s answer every time she comes to her? “If you run, gain one. Move forward, gain two”.

After Miorine confronting her, we know that Suletta is scared every time and every time her motto is her way to cheer herself up, wear a smile, and keep going. The focus is always on moving forward, on the goal, and it NEVER AKNOWLEDGES OR QUESTIONS HER PRESENT FEELINGS.

It’s very likely that growing up, every time Suletta had to face something scary (harmless growing up stuff), she’s always been encouraged to move forward with that stupid motto instead of processing her feelings and thinking things through. Prospera just never taught her.

So, what does Suletta do instead? Say her motto like a mantra, and move forward withouth questioning anything, actively ignoring and burying her unprocessed feelings under a smile to the point that she doesn’t even realize it (it’s no surprise why she’s also so terrible at social cues and stuff).

Her whole bubbly happy persona is the product of her whole life having to face scary things withouth learning how to process how that made her feel, ignoring everything in favor of putting up her happy persona.

The result? Going from this

to this

because she doesn’t know any other way to “keep moving forward” that isn’t “do what you must and brush everything else off with a smile”. But what’s the result? Saving Miorine at the cost of their relationship because she’s rightfully horrified.

The problem isn’t even that Suletta killed a man; we already estabilished that this is a survival, and even if you can argue that she could have simply incapacitate the terrorist, considering that she’s been fighting for their lives until then it isn’t too unbelievable that instinct woul kick in and end it all the same way.

The problem is, obviously, how she reacted to it. I’d bet anything that, despite being still shocked, if Suletta just stayed serious (maybe still ignoring what she did in in favor of checking on and take care of Miorine because, again, this is a “live or die” situation) then Miorine would have understood and seen Suletta’s actions differently (”she made a sacrifice by doing something terrible to protect me”). But Suletta fucking laughed! How fucked up is that? Was she having fun?

All of this isn’t caused by Prospera’s words alone because they do have some merit in the given circumstances. No, this is about the way she speaks them and the way she knows how Suletta would perceive them.

She spent years raising her to move forward no matter what, withouth ever questioning if moving forward even is the smartest choice (and we saw with Guel the consequences that come from not thinking it through). Raising her to make her the perfect little soldier.

And she succeeded.

[pokemenlovingmen]

Okay!! I was able to counter act the links being funky in my app by opening your blog in my mobile browser!!!! so I was able to read your rules n stuff so now I can finally request (yusss!!! also, I saw the "ingo,,, again" under the PLA characters you write for and it made me think "ingo 2,,, electric boogaloo" heheheh. also yeah fuck kamado, all my homies hate kamado)

okay, could I please request a lil drabble (if you only do hc's thats fine of course! I just couldnt find it clearly if you only do hc's) of Adaman taking care of a reader who is on bed rest and healing? the exact stuff of how and what is up to you, for me its more so the comfort and caring side, not so much the angst side (so like, nothing thats like "omg reader was near death" pls?). gender of the reader I dont mind, just do what youre most comfortable with and yee!! thank youuuu

Hi you’ve been such a kind supporter I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you!! And yeah. Fuck Kamado. That exile would have been my villain origin story if the game gave me more agency, I swear to god.

And conversely, we love Adaman. They put him in pokemas and my quality of life has improved significantly <3

Oh and I’m sorry about the lack of clarity of what I do! I do only HCs, but at the level of detail I can’t stop myself from including, they’re kinda like a weird fusion between drabble and headcanons.

Healing Takes Time — Adaman x M!Reader

💎 — Hisui is a dangerous place and injuries ranging from minor to severe are all too common. So Adaman’s not exactly a stranger to presiding over loved ones on bed rest.

💎 — Doesn’t mean he’s good at it, though.

💎 — Mai reminds him that the slow passage of time is just as important as things that happen in the quick, efficient manner that he prefers as well. It’s not a slight from Mighty Dialga being displeased, it’s just the nature of time. But he can’t just stand around when it comes to your health! Yes, rest takes time, he’s aware, but all this waiting feels the same as doing nothing to him.

💎 — Mai basically has to keep him away from you constantly because he’s always fretting over you, which is definitely sweet of him even if it’s not exactly helpful, but it is funny to watch the cartoonish shenanigans of Mai trying to constantly shoo Adaman away from the medical tent.

💎 — Even if what you’re recovering from isn’t serious, you’d never be able to guess that from how he behaves.

💎 — He essentially becomes your primary nurse and seldom lets you out of his sight if he can help it (thanks to Mai being the reasonable one, he usually can’t).

💎 — Once things calm down though, after the first two or three days when your recovery progress is becoming quite apparent, he’s less frazzled and more willing to leave you be. He just can’t help that impatience winning out, though, sometimes.

💎 — He’ll be there to help you with maintaining yourself while you rest, sitting beside your futon while you recover, brushing your hair so you don’t have to, keeping a fresh cold compress on you at all times if the problem is that you’re sick and feverish, changing your bandages if it’s an injury, all that.

💎 — If you’re okay with it, he’ll also happily bring his Leafeon to see you for some good old fashioned grass-type aromatherapy. I know Leafeon can’t actually learn the move aromatherapy, but it’s clearly made of plants and must have some kind of floral/herbal smell.

💎 — And since we know he is a house husband in the making guy with an interest in cooking, you bet he’ll be bringing you all manner of home-cooked meals.

💎 — He’s so dutiful, oftentimes he doesn’t go back to his own tent for the night and will instead fall asleep on the cold floor next to your futon.

💎 — Adaman is very sure to keep you abreast of all goings-on in the clan, usually nothing much of interest, but he does uncharacteristically bring you all sorts of gossip. It’s not that he likes to gossip, but while you’re bedridden he can’t think of much to entertain you with so this is what he’s settled on. And also he probably would like to vent his multitude of frustrations with Melli specifically because you just know 3/5 instances of drama involve some kind of category 5 Melli moment.

💎 — Once you start to recover and leave your bedridden state, he’s still just as present as he was before.

💎 — If it was an injury he’s always making sure you’re not overexerting yourself, and if it’s something that happened to your legs, he’s volunteering to help you walk around so you don’t put too much pressure on the injury.

💎 — For illness he’ll always be on your case about taking whatever medicines/remedies you were instructed to, because your recovery has already taken ages (to him) already, and he’s not sure he can bear seeing you sick for much longer.

💎 — Regardless of the reason you’re bedridden, he’ll always give you a kiss on the forehead when he enters the tent and before he leaves—though if you’re sick, he musters the self control to wait. Ideally he can keep that up, but he might get a little impatient… oh well. He needs to remind you how much he loves you, and if he ends up getting what you have, he knows you’ll care for him just as dutifully as he did you.

[bunnyboowrites]

My Last Wishes (Zoro x Black!Reader)

Summary ~ you’ve known forever of your early grave, and it’s come time for you to inform your crew-mates of the truth about your fate. None of them are happy, especially the one-eyed swordsman.

Warnings - Zoro x Fem!reader, implied POC!reader but not outright, Angst, Smut, M and F smut, oral (F receiving), p in v smut, Loss of virginity, +18 only pls, Zoro is a bit ooc, Bad Writing as Usual!

(Y/n) had been acting strange around her crew lately, her normal bubbly moods seemed to be dampened and no matter what anyone did she wasn’t the same. Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper goofing off to make her laugh? She’d just give a weak smile and walk away. Franky doing cool tricks? A small thumbs up. Brooks songs, Robin's talks about history, Nami’s fashion show, and Sanji’s cooking. Nothing seemed to make her feel better, the extreme fell upon them when Zoro stepped in.

He walked over to her lawn chair on the deck, he glanced around awkwardly and put his hands on his swords “You can touch my earrings now, you know since you asked before..” he felt his skin heat up, he also felt the whole crew watching on as they pretended to be occupied by other things. For the first time in what had felt like months she gave the biggest smile while the green haired man sat down on the chair, pushing her legs out of his way. The crew sighed a breath of relief as they saw the girl reach for Zoro’s golden jewelry.

He coughed and muttered “so what’s got you so bothered? everyone’s noticed and they’re all worried about you.” She looked at him puzzled by the question before a guilty look crossed her face for a quick second. “You’re not worried though?” She asked trying to brush it off as a joke, but he wasn’t buying it. “You usually love that pervy cook’s dessert when you have tea with Robin but you gave it to Luffy.” He huffed and looked at the ground “so I was sort of worried” she sighed and racked her brain on what would be the best way to go about it, explaining to these people she considered her new family that she’d been cursed since before she was ever born. “I’ll let everyone know at dinner, thank you for worrying about me Zoro”

Sanji called everyone to the kitchen when dinner was ready, everyone rushed to be seated finally ready to understand what was hurting their dear friend. She was seated between Nami and Zoro, and she held a stack of envelopes “mailing something?” Brook questioned. She simply shook her head and handed each of them their own personalized envelope. “I’m sorry I made you guys upset” she started, head hanging low her curls covering her usually joyful eyes that were now full of tears. “But I have no clue how to tell you guys”

“No worries (Y/n) you can tell us anything” Luffy exclaimed while grabbing some bread off of her plate. She started to shake with a sob, and now everyone was giving their full attention to her. “I-I have only a couple months left to live” she whispered, she was surprised by the unusual silence of the situation “way before I was even born my family had been cursed, the women in our family were said to contract a deadly disease that had no side affects just death” she wipes away tears that are clouding her vision.

Everyone was frozen, unable to speak or even breathe. Sanji was the first to act “Don’t worry my beloved (Y/n)-San I’ll do anything to help you” his comment was followed by echos of agreement “What are you saying, you can’t leave us like this” Luffy yelled “We need you, without you how are we ever supposed to find our dreams?” She’d never think that Luffy would act this way. But then again how could he not, he’d already lost his brother and he didn’t need any more of his family ripped away.

Chopper hopped into the girls lap “if it’s a disease I promise I’ll cure you, I’ll do everything in my power to help you! What’s good is being the cure for all diseases if I couldn’t save my friend?” he cried, she stroked his back as he hugged her. Glancing around the table she looked drained, fatigued beyond recognition and Robin just hummed “How long have you known this?” she said and Nami nodded her head “ever since I was a little girl I knew misfortune was real and that it was coming for me” she paused and turned her head up towards the ceiling and chuckled “but when we docked on the last island I went to see a doctor and they told me my diagnosis”

Zoro sat with his arms crossed and closed his eye, seeing his crew with so much emotion it made him feel like he was powerless. Everyone was shedding tears hearing this news. He had a question that he wanted answered “Were you just gonna hide it from us until we woke up to find you dead?” Nami turned to him with a concerned look “Zoro?!? Are you crazy, this must have been eating her alive and you’re being too harsh” He huffed “(Y/n) should’ve told us, that’s something that could’ve happened any day since the day she was born but kept it a secret from people she was supposed love and care for, I’m upset so sorry if I’m being harsh” he picked up the rest of his booze and stormed out almost knocking the door off it’s hinges on the way out.

She finished saying her apologies to her family, the hardest thing she ever felt she had to do. “Those envelopes are my last wishes for each of you, I want them to be opened after I’m gone… for when you miss me most” She picks Zoro’s envelope up and sighs “I have to go give this to the hothead” she laughed in a breathy sigh. She walked out of the kitchen to start her search for the swordsman. She checked the men's quarters first and found the room empty and he was nowhere to be found on the deck so her best guess was the crow's nest.

She finally made it to the top and saw him, her heart started to beat a little faster at seeing him. He was shirtless and he was lifting a dumbbell sweat beaded at his forehead and some trickled down his face and neck and down between his defined pecs "Zoro I came to check if you were okay" She moved closer to the man before he gave a grunt "I'm fine sweetheart, but you just did something knowing you had a way out while we get stuck picking up the pieces" She felt the agitation build in her body "You think I like this Zoro? this is my home you guys were the escape from my stupid curse and now it's coming to an end" she pushed his chest he just silently stared as tears began to roll down her face "I never wanted to hurt anyone, but I couldn't have come out and said it when I met you guys id be standing in the way of everyone's dreams because everyone would be trying to find a cure to something I've had forever." she felt her whole body shake as she sobbed. Zoro thought her cries were painful to look at, he couldn't stand not being able to help her.

"I won't be able to have a boyfriend, experience sex or kissing sure but that's for the better because I'd rather have my friends and our adventures" She buried her face into his chest and he sighed and slowly wrapped his arms around her "you havent been with anyone?" He asked as she realized she told her crush that she was a virgin. She felt the embarrassment warming her "i- don't worry about that, you're an insensitive jerk Roanoa Zoro. do you know that?" He couldn't help himself but think about doing those things with her, giving her everything she deserved and more. she wouldn't want a brute like him anyway, he was sure she liked men more like that swirly cook.

Zoro would never admit it but he tried to take care of himself better to please her, weekly baths became every two days he even bought himself cologne on an island they docked at. All of this to impress the girl clinging to him and sniffling in his arms her soft curls and plush body attracting him to her, always making sure she was never alone even if he was napping. He would never admit but he wanted her to fight to stay alive to stay with them, to stay with him. he would sacrifice any and everything for the girl in his arms.

She finally looked him in the eye, her lip trembling and her eyes still full of tears "I brought your envelope, I need you to wait until I'm dead to read it though" her voice was barely a whisper. He scoffed "I don't want that stupid letter I want you to stay with me" he caught his mistake. She felt her heart skip a beat at his words. He wanted her to stay with him? had he felt the same all this time? feeling bold she firmly said "I love you" She sighed "Not like I love everyone else, I dream of you-" She cups his face "I pray in the night, the heavens know whose name I whisper when I sin" Her eyes flutter down to his lips and she pauses.

"(Y/n) I will sacrifice everything for you, we can find a way to fix whatever is wrong with you I promise it," he said feeling his body react in ways he thought would only happen when he thought about her perfect body underneath him. she smiled as she leaned in pressing her plush lips against his, her lips were soft but she was kissing him so softly he needed more after longing for her after so long. after she pulled away for her breath he impatiently pulled her back in for a more this time slipping his tongue into her mouth.

after their kiss she was trying to catch her breath, their mouths connected by the thin line of spit from both of their lips. "That was so much better than what if imagined" she whispered, her core warming in the oh-so-familiar way. he grabbed her hair and tilted her to look at his face "Let me grant those wishes for you, I wanna be everything for you, just like you are for me" his voice was so smooth and he was running his other hand down her neck and over her cleavage. she shivered at his touch and he smirked at her. "do you want this sweetheart? for me to be with you in a way no one else will be able to be?" she nodded with bated breath.

He licked her neck and took a long breath, inhaling her scent it was sweet with something else he couldn't make out. "you're made for me, I need you now" he groaned. She whimpered as he grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head exposing her to the chilly air of the room. He laid the dress down on the floor using his shirt as a cushion for her head. He caught her lips in another intense kiss their tongues dancing, he ran his hands all over her body cupping her pretty ass and giving it a slap. "Lay on the dress for me baby," he said, his husky tone doing wonders for her wet little pussy.

She laid on the dress and was feeling slightly embarrassed, she was so scared he was just a figment of her imagination. She covered her body unsure of how she would look to him knowing that during his pirate hunter days, he saw many women. He was having none of it though grabbing her hand and placing it on his massive print through his pants. "you do too many things to me for you to be embarrassed sweetie" she whimpered feeling his large dick, there was no way she could take that. she would try her best to please him though. "Zoro please, let me taste you" she moaned. he wore a grin on his face he was delighted that she wanted him so desperately but he had other plans. He hooked his fingers in her underwear, waiting for her permission to continue.

"I've got something even better for you doll" She let out a small whimper as her breathing picked up. His face was so close to her core, she could practically feel him breathing on her wet slit. The first lick of his tongue felt intense, something she couldn't put into words "Zoro-" the moan left her with a jolt, his cock twitched hearing her moan his name. it was filthy on her sweet lips. "oh so fucking good for me, I gotta get you ready for my cock baby" he dove back into her pussy groaning at her taste. She was his salvation, her body sculpted perfectly. everything he loved on his tongue as he flicked her clit with his tongue while slowly sliding a finger into her entrance.

His name was falling from her mouth like a sick prayer, she was getting so close to the peak and he needed her to fall over the edge just for him. "Ungh, I think I'm gonna cum Zoro, just like that oh-" he smirked as he used his fingers to hit the spongey spot in her sweet little cunt. She couldn't hold out any longer and she felt her body snap with the arrival of her orgasm. the buzzing feeling still fresh on her mind, devouring her senses as Zoro pulled his pants and boxers off.

She watched as he stripped, squeezing her thighs for some relief "Are you sure I can't return the favor?" she asked with a certain breathlessness to her voice. "no I need that fucking pussy around me or I might lose my mind" he groaned desperately, his head rubbing through her folds wetting him thoroughly. His head caught her entrance and he slowly bullied his way into her tight little cunt, "I'm gonna be gentle for you, but fuck you are not making this easy on me (Y/n)" he moaned into her neck.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he began slowly bucking his hips, the burning sensation turning into intense pleasure. it was like static was running through her. through her whole body even her toes. her moans were getting more loud and intense with every passing thing he said into her ear "Oh fuck baby, you're fucking mine forever." "This pussy is only mine by the time I'm done with this virgin pussy it'll only remember me" "I fucking love you, every day I find a new reason to love you" he sped his thrust up when he could tell how fucked out you were. "oh god I lov- Zoro I love you too" he felt a shiver at her confession his balls tightened . "say you'll never leave, tell me you'll fight to stay" "ill stay with you 'ro" she was pretty sure she was screeching now her impending orgasm sneaking up on her. He let out a loud groan and reached down to play with her clit, everything mixing together being the catalyst to her falling apart. squirting all over him moaning for him begging him to fill her up with his cum. "you're so good and fucking perfect" he moaned as his balls emptied, his cock being milked by her perfect cunt.

they were left coming down from their highs while the heaviness of their situation returned. She panted as the dull aching pain came back "Did you really want me to fight for you?" she questioned. She heard him grunt in agreement and she felt herself reach a determined state of mind "I'll do anything to see everyone's dreams come true. My new dream is to stay alive to go on so many adventures with my friends and my love" he nodded and kissed her neck "I love you Zoro" she whispered as he sighed content and tired "yeah yeah let's just get some rest." he muttered, breathing in the night air with a newfound sense of purpose for the both of them.

;0 I actually wrote smut, it was pretty hard so I’ll keep practicing. Bye bye for now