#throughout the night i had to remind myself that i was in bed to sleep

[lesbin]

i barely slept last night. again. and it was 99% because im ill but also i was so fucking out of it. i kept thinking i was operating heavy machinery and in my dazed, somewhat feverish state i was like. i can't afford to fall asleep. at one point i grabbed my dressing gown thinking it was a hi vis jacket

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[itsravenbitch]

how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death

a little backstory

— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay

kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.

my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.

the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.

now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘

so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.

— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)

— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.

— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.

so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).

another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.

so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.

HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.

— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.

as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.

when it manifested

the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.

the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.

as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?

so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”

then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.

this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!

anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.

i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂

so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.

feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾

[charmercharm3r]

Now go to sleep

BC

Masterlist

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, bf!chan, piv, fingering, idk witty banter cus he's such a cute meanie like that, idk he's been so teasing on bubble lately I couldn't help myself so ..here..

☆ﾟ

"I'm tired, I'm not going to argue about this."

"I'm tired too, but I can be tired and still care about our relationship!"

Chan had gotten home a half hour ago and was barely stripping his outside clothes, head caught in his shirt when the words left your mouth. He could be menacing when he wanted to be.

Take now, for example. He'd finally wrangled himself out of the material and hadn't even slipped it off his arms when he turned his body to stop and stare at you like you'd just said you committed armed robbery. Brows slightly furrowed, lips pouting at you, Chan had the "fuck around and find out" look down to a T.

"Don't go there." Tone of voice, too. Menacing.

"Don't make me."

But there was the attitude right back. He deserved it for ignoring you the past week, you'd been so understanding until now. You'd reminded him every week for a month until this past Saturday the day he specifically took off so that you could have one date night. Just one. It was the only thing you've asked for since your birthday. And he still forgot.

Forgot or prioritized something else- probably work related- you didn't know or care.

"You promised," your voice shook slightly.

"So did you. You promised you'd understand."

"I've been understanding. You've been ignoring. Me."

The annoyed brow ruffle softened as did the rest of his face when the tears started to well up in your eyes. You didn't wanna cry in front of him, it was the last thing you wanted to add onto his already heavy weighted shoulders, but you couldn't help it. "It's not just your life.

"We sleep in the same bed. We share the same bathroom. You use my shampoo and I steal your hoodies. Sometimes you take my socks from the drawer and it makes you a minute late 'cus you have to make the trip back to the bedroom. Sometimes I accidentally grab your towel after a shower because it's steamy in the bathroom and I can't see, then you shower after me and get confused and use my towel instead. It's probably my fault, but it's not just your life."

Chan dropped his shirt to the floor, annoyance being replaced with guilt. He had been ignoring you, but not purposefully. He knew about date night and let his boss, his colleagues, everyone get in his head that the only way to prove himself and his capabilities was to work himself to death. Death by heartbreak because the sadness that radiated off of you was so painful he was sure that that was exactly what was happening to him.

He took the few steps to stand in front of you and reach out to cup your cheeks, thumb catching the slowly rolling tear. "Your towel is softer, anyways."

You hated how easily he could make things better, laughing and sniffling as you leaned your head into his palms. "I wash our towels together, that doesn't even make sense."

Kisses were smothering your face in the next moment, warmth making the tears fizzle from behind your waterline to be replaced by the need to grab him, hold onto him and never let go. You melted in his arms so quickly, there was no evidence that you'd been crying in the first place.

And when he kissed your lips, you forgot why you were sad in the first place. For a second, at least. The lingering hurt was still there, not as potent, but definitely still there.

"I like using your towel because it's yours," he murmured into your mouth, hands wandering down to press your body against his shirtless one. "Your shampoo smells better than mine. Still smell it throughout the day and think of you." Guided back onto the bed, he covered you entirely to shield you away.

Kisses on both cheeks. "Your socks are cute." Kisses down your neck. "I know they're yours because of the colorful designs." Kisses to your palms and finger tips. Down your body and stealing your top away to plant more across the expanse of your belly until your body started to overheat. "I take them on purpose."

"Then you grumble at me when you're late on purpose, too?" You were teasing back, if the smile you wore was anything to go by.

"Yeah, to get you to kiss me before I leave. You forget if I don't."

"Why don't you just ask me, then?"

"It tastes a little sweeter when you think you came up with the idea on your own." Chan smirked back up at you before venturing further to rid you of your bottoms so that you were left bare before him.

You would never admit it to him, but you forgave him as soon as his shirt came off. You just like when he works for your forgiveness, it reminds you that he does still truly care.

"You're still wearing pants," you breathed heavily when he spread your legs so he could slot between them, the rough denim brushing your aching core.

"Mhm," he mumbled back.

"Take them off."

Chan stopped his kissing rampage and pulled back with that fucking look that made you want to slap him silly. "Why should I?"

It was your turn to be annoyed. "Because I'm trying to fuck my boyfriend."

"Vulgar," he teased, placing a cheeky peck to the tip of your nose. "How badly do you want it?"

Tender touches roamed your thighs and love handles, getting you into a position on your back you knew rather well with him as your partner in it. "Not want, need."

Chan chuckled against your skin, burning like hot coal in the path he took further south, past your cunt and down your legs to pepper kisses around your calves and ankles as he sat up, taking your limbs with him. He maneuvered you to hang your legs over his shoulders so he looked down at you. "Is that really all it took, baby?"

"You haven't done anything yet. I'm still upset."

He bit his lip and raked his eyes up and down your body. "I see how it is."

Cryptic as always, he never gave away more than necessary.

But his body language is impossible to misread. Through his jeans, you could see the tent in his pants that you knew was probably painfully rubbing against the harsh material. He wanted it as badly as you did, but didn't want to be the first one to cave.

Before he could move again, you locked your ankles around his neck and tugged him down, "you were being so nice to me, what happened?"

"Make a little more noise for me, baby."

His hands had snuck their way to your core, fingers running through your folds before you had processed his words. You were doing exactly as he asked, not by choice. He provoked the noises out of you with precise, practiced moves against your clit, practically stringing them out of you like another one of his musical instruments.

"Please," you whined, threading your fingers in his hair hoping he'd cave.

Chan laughed again, "I don't think so. Not loud enough."

Prodding against your hole made another whimper crack through your restraint. You weighed your options and both would lead to an orgasm, you were sure. But you didn't know which route you wanted take more- letting him talk you down into submission or teasing him back until he fucked you into it.

Then his fingers broke the surface, plunging into you slow but deeply. The stretch was already proving to be more than you could handle, head falling back into the mattress and letting chants of his name fill the room. Chan loved it, drooling over how easily he got you under his reign.

"Baby, please. Wan' it," you grabbed his hand to halt his ministrations. Chan laughed at your sudden flip in attitude.

"Fine," he feigned compliance, knowing he would give you anything you asked for if you kept looking at him like he held your world in his hands.

He did, but he doesn't need to know that just yet.

Chan unzipped his pants and shoved them down his hips along with his boxers, just enough to let his cock spring free. Clearly, he was barely containing himself seeing as leaking precum made his tip glisten.

"Here," he presented himself like a present, not moving. Chan simply waited for you to take what you wanted. When you did, he smiled, proudly this time.

You used the leverage on his shoulders to scoot down the bed and reached between your bodies to let him slip past your entrance. Oh, he fit like a perfectly tailored glove, every time.

He let you use him, only providing some stabilization as you fucked yourself back and forth, up and down, any which way you could to reach the high you so desperately needed from him. Until you couldn't anymore. All you had to do was stop, let out a huff, and look up at him with those fucking eyes, and Chan folded.

Literally folded, hunching over you and cooing, "okay, okay. I'll do all the work. Only because you look so cute when you try to fuck me."

He didn't need to go very fast, just the right angle to press your sweet spot like a button. The wet, pornographic sounds of your bodies pulling apart and colliding, with his name falling from your lips and his noises of pure pleasure, it wasn't very long until the both of you were arching into one another and letting the euphoric waves crash onto shore.

Chan slumped onto you, bodies tired and feeling entirely too cuddly to clean up any more. Doing the bare minimum and kicking off his pants while not even bothering to pull out, he laid his head into the crook of your neck and smothered you entirely.

"Date night. This weekend." You grumbled into his hair, getting comfortable.

"Whatever you want. Now go to sleep," Chan nuzzled his nose into your skin, letting your warmth take over his senses.

Draping your arms over his shoulders and holding him close with a kiss on the top of his head, you mumbled back, "don't tell me what to do."

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

1. i'm sleeping with a ghoul (Ghost!Lucifer x MC)

A/N: Hello!! This is a few days late, but I said I wanted to do Obey Me month and I'm sticking to it, damn it! So I offer you my very first story for it, as well as the first thing I've published for the om fandom that isn't Barbatos. This was actually really fun to write and I wanna thank @the-ancient-fae for giving me the prompt of 'ghost' to help me figure something out!! That simple prompt has created a whole basket of ideas in my head, so thank you, Roxy 💜 But anyways, enjoy reading!!

Pairing(s): Lucifer x MC

Prompt: Day 1 - Lucifer from @obeymetournaments's list of prompts for this month!!

Summary: The tale of someone who encountered a... different kind of ghost.

Tag(s): 18+, themes of stalking, Spectrophilia/Phasmophilia, dubious consent, non-explicit, mentions of sexual content, first person pov

Word Count: 922

Song Inspiration: Sex With A Ghost By Teddy Hyde

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Author Masterlist]

[Day 1] [Day 2] [Day 3] [Day 4] [Day 5] [Day 6] [Day 7] [Day 8] [Day 9] [Day 10] [Day 11] [Day 12] [Day 13] [Day 14] [Day 15] [Day 16] [Day 17] [Day 18] [Day 19] [Day 20] [Day 21] [Day 22] [Day 23] [Day 24] [Day 25] [Day 26] [Day 27] [Day 28] [Day 29] [Day 30] [Day 31]

~*~

Anyone who’s ever lived in a haunted house before will be familiar with the usual signs. Creaking floors, footsteps down the hallway, doors opening and closing on their own, whispers in other rooms. I, myself, am familiar with all of those, but those aren’t the things I’m experiencing in my current home. I hear less whispers and more longing sighs. I see shadows creeping around the corner. Sometimes the flap of wings. The click of formal shoes. I’ve recently started finding feathers in random places throughout the house. Long, black feathers. Bigger than any bird in my neighborhood.

I can feel whenever I’m being watched. The time I seem to be watched most is when I’m sleeping. Or at least laying in my bed at night. I can even see the outline of a figure if I look into the darkness for long enough and I swear the figure has horns and wings. Do you think it sees me, too?

~*~

The ghost. It’s a man. I know what he looks like now. He’s gotten bolder, closer. Or maybe I’ve just started paying more attention?

The places I find feathers have gotten more consistent. More specific. They’re only in parts of the houses I often frequent, like the kitchen and my own bedroom. And just the other day… I was in the bathroom, had just finished a shower. It was such a cliche. I wiped off the mirror and immediately I saw him, behind me. But unlike the movies, he didn’t flicker away as soon as I saw him. Instead, he stayed. He met my eyes. It was like he wanted me to see him. And so, I did. Soft, black, feathery hair with just the tiniest piece of his bangs turned gray. Deep, mysterious red and black eyes. Four black-feathered wings that are a glorious sight to behold, almost how one would imagine angel wings. But then my eyes catch on the large, black horns curving upwards from the top of his head. That’s when I’m reminded that he is certainly no angel.

Even so, he took my breath away. And he knew it. A look of pride upon his face before I blink and he’s finally gone. It took me a moment to recover after that. But it was not because I was terrified. Nor was I upset that he was intruding upon my home. All I felt in that moment was an intense curiosity, along with excitement at the thought of finding out more.

~*~

I’m starting to think something’s wrong with me. I can’t truly be thinking like this about a ghost, can I? But I can’t help it. He’s doing it on purpose. Seducing me. There’s no other way to describe it. I see him all the time now. He’s stopped trying to hide from me. He watches me openly now, during all hours of the day. I’ve started speaking to him. He’s there to listen, so I might as well, right? And sometimes he’ll answer. With gestures or the softest of whispers. But what’s more important is what happens at night.

Once I’ve shut off all the lights and settled beneath my blankets, that’s when I’ll feel it. Fingers brushing over my skin. Sometimes gloved, sometimes bare. First, it was just soft affection. Holding my cheek or tracing my hand. Then, he’d trace down my neck and over my calves. And now, he’s trailing down my chest and up my thighs with touches that can no longer be considered simple affection. No, these touches are filled with intent. And I know something’s fucked in my head because in response, I’ve started wearing less and less clothes to bed. He’s taking it as an invitation to continue and we both know that’s exactly what it is. Even before it’s bedtime, I’m already anticipating the feel of his fingers and the pleasure his touch brings.

I think he’s waiting to take a step further because he enjoys seeing me touch myself. He gets this smirk on his face as his low chuckle fills my ear and it only adds to my overloaded senses, driving me over the edge. Sometimes during the day, I’m unable to help myself when I think too much about it. When that happens, I always make sure to be loud enough so that he’ll know exactly what I’m doing.

Even now, questioning my own mind, I can’t find a single ounce of hesitation towards any of it.

~*~

Lucifer. Lucifer. Lucifer. That is my lover’s name. He finally told me when he gave himself to me completely. I got to see him in all his glory, laid bare and without any clothing in the way. Just as he saw me the same way. And not only did he touch me without holding back, but I got to touch him as well. We were finally joined as one and that’s when I knew for certain - this is love. It must be. There’s no other emotion I could use to describe how I feel for him. And I know he loves me, too. He told me so. Told me that even when he was alive he never loved another the way he loves me.

We’ll be together forever, him and I. He’s in my bed every night and right beside me throughout the day. He takes me whenever he feels like it and I would never dream of rejecting him. All of me belongs to him now, mind, body, and soul, and I don’t want it any other way.

~*~

A/N: Please, let me know your thoughts!! Thank you for reading!!! 💜💜💜

[tkaulitzlvr]

could u do 2008 tom getting in an argument with the reader and after arguing a lot, the reader just tries to go to bed. after a couple mins, tom realizes he was wrong and tries to climb in bed with the reader and is like super clingy and tries to touch the reader but gets ignored. and he’s all like “yk how i get when i can’t touch you” AUGHH😩😩 and then it’s js smut that ends with fluff/aftercare

btw ur my fav writer ever i absolutely adore ur writing 🖤

LET ME SHOW YOU - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you are tired of arguing, deciding to go to bed before things get too out of hand. tom realises that he has messed up, but you are being stubborn, still not over what he has done. he doesn’t give up so easily, begging to get what he wants.

content: angst to smut, little bit of fluff throughout.

a/n: thank u so much that really means a lot!! love this idea, i hope u enjoy!💞

“you know what? i’m done. i’m tired of explaining this to you when you clearly don’t get it.” i huff, shaking my head and running my hands through my hair.

“you’re right. i don’t get it. you’re mad at me for doing my job!” he shoots back, eyes cold and dark, jaw clenched as he stands across from me on the other side of the kitchen.

“you can’t be fucking serious! don’t paint me as some clingy selfish girlfriend when all i’m asking is that you don’t come home at midnight every night, and go straight to bed! it’s like we aren’t even together anymore. we live in the same house but we never talk, never communicate. you only show me affection if it’s a quick kiss or hug, or you want sex.” i rant, fuming at his lack of mindfulness, failing to believe how he is so oblivious.

“what so we’re just lying now, is that what this is?” he scoffs, taking a breath before continuing. “cause you know that’s not true. i always hug you, kiss you, tell you i love you, don’t i? and you know that i value you way beyond sex, so don’t even go there.”

“you’re completely missing the point!”

“then what is the fucking point?”

his voice raises far higher than mine, louder than it ever has before. he would never raise his voice at me, not like this. my mouth opens, tears clouding my vision as i am taken aback at his sudden outburst, but he doesn’t seem to care, my silence only seen as an invitation to keep going.

“hm, what is the point? you’ve always known that my job demands a lot of me, and i told you that it would be difficult, but i’m trying my best. if i could be with you more, i would. you know that we’re pushing to get this album perfect, so can you give me a fucking break and stop acting like i’m some awful boyfriend?” he shouts, anger laced within every word, each one stabbing me right in the heart, making me feel stupid for even bringing this whole conversation up. i just missed him, but he couldn’t seem to understand why.

i nod my head, pursing my lips together as the tears cascade down my cheeks.

“okay. i’m going to bed.” i whisper, not waiting for him to respond, turning away from him and leaving the kitchen, trudging up the stairs towards our bedroom. he doesn’t follow me, instead i hear a loud bang come from the kitchen, his fist colliding with the counter as he curses in frustration.

the room is strangely cold as i walk into it, completely dark with little natural light coming through the window despite the curtains still being wide open, reminding me of how late it is - and how long i had been waiting for tom to come home. my feet walk along the carpet, the floorboards creaking a little until i arrive at my bed, climbing into it and letting the covers embrace me, instead of tom. i feel numb, not enough energy in me to cry, yet too upset to just sleep it off. instead, i stare out of the window, the cityscape invading my eye line as i try to distract myself from what had just happened, watching the world around me as it moves on and on, wishing that i could do the same.

the door slowly creaks open, my head turning in its direction as tom walks through it, his expression one of pure regret. he is silent, not saying a word as he goes over to the mirror, taking his cap off and placing it gently on the dresser, taking his dreads out of their ponytail, his eyes suddenly meeting mine through the mirror as i stare into them.

“baby can we talk?” he says, still looking at me through the mirror as he removes his shirt, folding it neatly and leaving it on top of the dresser, his bare back facing me from across the room.

“about what?” i scoff, finally breaking the eye contact and laying down, staring motionlessly at the ceiling. “you were pretty sure of what you said, there’s nothing else to speak about.”

my gaze still fixed on the ceiling, i hear him step away from the mirror, walking cautiously towards the bed. i feel it dip beside me, before two arms snake around my waist.

i roughly pull away from his grip, taking his hands and shoving them back in his direction, not falling for his attempts to iron out the tension, especially ones that involve him putting his hands on me.

“baby…you know i didn’t mean any of that.” he calmly speaks, trying again to touch me, this time taking my hand in his. once again, i refuse, shuffling even further away from him.

“can you not touch me? i’m not in the mood for your shitty apologies just- go to sleep.” my voice is harsh, hurt taking over his expression as i speak, but i don’t feel an ounce of sympathy for him. instead, seeing him experience even a fraction of the sadness that he had just put me through satisfies me.

“leibe…please listen to me. i’m so sorry.” he begins, turning onto his side so that he is now facing me. “i’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately, you don’t deserve that. i’ve just been so caught up with the album and it brought me away from you, but i shouldn’t have let it. please baby, please forgive me. i’ll never let this happen again.”

as he comes to the end of his speech, his hand tentatively reaches for my cheek, his thumb trying to stroke the skin, but i move backwards, becoming irritated at his ignorance.

“are you deaf? stop touching me tom!” i ignore his apology, because right now, it means nothing to me, his initial words still a fresh wound. no apology, no matter how sincere, would be enough to make me forget them just yet.

“schatz, please, you know how i get when i can’t touch you. don’t accept my apology, don’t talk to me, i get it, i deserve it. but please my love, just let me hold you, that’s all i want.” he begs, his voice reducing to a whisper as it cracks a little.

his love language had always been physical touch, and, even when we were fighting, he would always hold me whilst we slept, no matter how mad i was. i knew that me refusing his touch was getting to him and, despite me being completely infuriated, it was impossible to ignore the slight pang of guilt that settled in my heart as i listened to his pleas.

i say nothing, moving a little closer to him, leaving enough space so that he would have to reach out to be able to touch me. he takes my silence as a yes, inching his body closer to mine, his arms pulling me tightly into him, his head resting in the crook of my neck. i feel him relax a little, his shoulders dropping as he pulls me further into his embrace, holding me so tightly that i can feel his heartbeat from within his chest. his breathing tickles my neck, his head snuggling into it as he takes in my scent, clearly having missed being this close to me. but still, i say nothing, giving him this small sense of comfort though anger still courses through my veins, in no position to forgive him just yet. however, it is impossible to deny the security i gain from his embrace, the way his hands run comfortingly up and down my back giving me a sense of contentment that only he can bring.

“i love you. i love you so much.” he whispers into my neck, planting a short and soft kiss there. “you’ll never understand how much i love you baby, you’re everything to me, my whole world.”

his hands begin to caress my lower back, travelling downwards and giving my ass a soft squeeze as his lips plant slow kisses on my neck and collarbone, all whilst he continues to whisper sweet nothings into my ear, pouring his heart out whilst his movements begin to increase - making his intentions crystal clear.

“tom please, not now. i’m still mad at you.” i say, trying to keep my voice stern, but an elongated sigh pours from my parted lips once his find the spot below my ear that makes me go crazy.

“you won’t be once i’m finished, i promise baby. just let me show you what you mean to me, mhm?” he asks, pulling his head from my neck to look into my eyes, a glint of desperation present within them.

i study his features, starting at his brown eyes - warm and enticing, looking into mine with so much admiration, so much love. his skin, smooth and flawless, unable to count how many times i have felt it against mine. his lips, soft and inviting, decorated with a small metal ring, loving how it would always feel against me, the harshness of it always contrasting with the warmth of his lips as they would move against mine.

and it is that small glance that makes me give in, my hands reaching for his head as i pull it downwards, quickly joining his lips with mine. he is taken aback, but it only takes him a few seconds to kiss me back, cupping my face with his hands and bringing me in even closer, our bodies merging as one.

he pulls away, a soft smile tugging on his lips as he begins to gently remove my clothing, starting with my shorts, kissing upwards until he reaches my hoodie, that soon following, leaving me in only my lingerie.

“so perfect.” he mutters, pecking my lips. “you’re so beautiful meine liebe, you know that?”

my cheeks heat up at his words as they spill like liquid gold from his pink lips, our fight feeling further and further away. it becomes harder to imagine that it ever happened, the way he touches me with such care making it seem almost impossible.

his clothes already off as he always sleeps in just his boxers, he reaches to remove his underwear, turning his attention to my own panties, letting them join the existing pile of clothes scattered around the room.

he moves to the top of the bed, sitting with his back resting against the headboard, gently picking me up and placing me into his lap as i straddle his waist, hands resting his shoulders as i stare into his eyes, a little nervous as i am never usually the one on top.

“tom i-”

“shhh, you’re okay, just ride.” he comforts, moving loose strands of hair from my face, placing a reassuring kiss on my lips.

i nod hesitantly, lifting my hips up and sliding down onto him, moaning as i take him in, my walls stretching as they become accustomed to his size. tom’s head has fallen backwards, fingers digging into my hips a little as his lips are parted, no noise escaping from them.

once i am used to his size, i begin to bounce slowly, picking up a steady rhythm as tom continues to hold on to my hips, helping me move.

“doing so well baby. just like that.” he sighs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut.

it doesn’t take long for my legs to ache, no longer able to continue moving up and down, already tired. my movements are slow and lethargic, almost half-hearted as i try my best to keep going, chasing my release as i crave it more than anything, tom clearly feeling the same as his hold on my waist only tightens, his grip strong enough to leave faint marks on the skin.

“i can’t.” i whine, frustrated that i can’t keep going, completely spent. i fall forwards, collapsing onto tom’s chest, still inside him as he slowly thrusts upwards into me, his arms wrapping around my back as he kisses my forehead.

“you did so good baby, don’t worry.”

those are the only words he says before swiftly flipping us over, my back flush against the mattress as he begins to thrust into me at a relentless pace from above, my mouth falling open as loud moans pour from it, his name a mantra as it effortlessly falls from my lips. he hits places within me that have never been touched before, so deep inside me that i can feel him in my stomach, a small bulge visible as he moves in and out of me.

“love you so much, fuck-” tom groans, his hands on my thighs as he kneads the flesh, prying them further apart as the pleasure prompts them to try close around his waist.

“getting close baby, you close?” he mutters, moving his head so that his forehead is against mine, eyes studying my face as he awaits my response.

all i can do is let out an almost inaudible ‘mhm’, so close to my release that i can almost feel it, the knot in my stomach ready to burst any second. the way his dick twitches inside of me tells me that he is there too, his thrusts irregular.

“let go schatz, cum for me.” he says, watching as my face twists in pleasure, my release washing over me, the pressure of his coming at the same time too much as i squeeze my eyes shut, hands clutching onto his upper arms. my entire body shakes, the feeling overwhelming, mouth open in a silent scream as tom moans into my ear, still rocking in and out of me slowly, riding out our highs.

i am completely spent, laying motionless beneath him, my throat raw from the sounds that had emitted from it, breathing heavy and reckless. tom pulls out, wiping a few tears from my eyes that i hadn’t even realised had fallen, kissing the skin afterwards.

“you okay baby? you did so good, did i go too hard?” he says, my mind not fully registering what he is saying as i am completely exhausted, eyes starting to flutter shut. “you can’t sleep yet, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

i manage a weak nod, feeling tom lift me up bridal style, carrying me into the bathroom and carefully placing me on the counter. he walks over to the bath, turning the taps on and letting the water run, before rushing back over to me, taking a damp cloth and wiping me with it as a jolt when he is a little too rough, the area sensitive.

“sorry baby.” he mutters, kissing my forehead, separating my legs and moving to stand between them, embracing me in a hug and resting his head on top of mine whilst the bath fills up, small ‘i love you’s’ escaping his lips as he rubs my back, trying to soothe me in any way he can.

after a couple of minutes, he picks me up, gently placing me in the bath as the water submerges me, the warmth of it already easing the aching pain that runs through my body. he climbs in behind me as i sit between his legs, my back against his chest.

he washes my hair, massaging the shampoo into my scalp as my head falls backwards onto his shoulder, the feeling relaxing me even more, completely at peace in his arms. he moves to my body, carefully washing the delicate skin, planting occasional kisses on my shoulders and back as my breathing slows, on the verge of falling asleep.

he sees that i am too tired to stand up myself, picking me up and carrying me out as i wrap my arms and legs around him. he finds a towel, setting me back on the counter and drying my body, leaving the bathroom for a second and returning with some fresh ‘pyjamas’ - which consisted of a random t-shirt of his and some clean panties.

“come on baby, put these on then we can go to bed, mhm?” he says as i lift my arms up, allowing him to place the t-shirt onto my small frame, the material hanging off my figure as it reaches my knees. he takes my panties, moving them up my legs slowly, my hips bucking upwards so he can fully put them on me, finally putting his own underwear on.

he takes me to the bedroom, tucking me into bed and placing the covers over me, climbing in beside me, his arms wrapping around my waist as i cuddle into him.

“i’m so sorry for everything. i love you.” he whispers, kissing my hair softly.

i mutter a small ‘love you’ against his chest, falling asleep within minutes, completely exhausted.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[pedropascallme]

Hi love . I have an idea for pedro ×reader

They had a big fight and they don't talk . When they go to sleep , pedro hugs the reader in bed and apologize . ( loving and romantic)

AN: I hope this is to your liking!!

You didn’t even remember what you were fighting about, but you knew that you were right, and he was wrong. 

It was the middle of January, bitterly cold and dry outside. You had started arguing with Pedro as soon as you had woken up, admittedly in a bad mood for no reason and just looking for something to be mad at. He had left the sliding glass door in the main room of the house slightly open—just by an inch, if even—and a chill had crept throughout the house. The chill had made you feel wilted and grumpy, padding through the house slamming doors and cabinets while Pedro seemed completely ignorant of his misstep. It had been just that; a misstep, a complete accident on his part as he had rushed to crawl into bed with you after a late-night cigarette in the backyard. But it was the perfect opportunity to vent all the built-up anger in your system.

You hadn’t really meant to lash out at him, but you were frustrated and melancholy, and what else could you do in your moment of randomly induced irritation? He had asked what was wrong and you snapped back at him to “go away,” to “leave me alone, goddammit.” You seethed and moped for the rest of the day, huddling in the comfort of your bed while Pedro, not wanting to push and respecting the boundary you had set in your frenzied moment of outrage, found things to do around the house in order to stay out of your way.

When night had fallen and you had realized you had spent the whole day isolated in the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, you felt a pang of guilt, followed by one of hunger. You tried to make your way out of your room and into the kitchen, but the regret of having been so randomly cruel to Pedro earlier in the day grew, and all you could do was sit on the floor and continue wallowing in self-pity. 

The door opened slowly, and the creak of the wood reminded you that the hinges needed to be fixed. Pedro strode in holding a bag of takeout and set it down on the floor beside you before sitting to face you on the bedroom floor. You were both quiet as he placed a hand on your knee.

“Querida,” he whispered, “what’s wrong?”

You looked at him through the tears that swelled in your eye, trying to put words to feelings. “I’m sorry. For, for yelling at you this morning.”

“Baby…”

“And for walling myself in all day and not telling you why I was mad and not apologizing sooner and—” He cut off your rambling by sliding himself closer to you and dropping a kiss on your head. He had himself hunched over you, knees on the hard wood and you knew he would feel it in the morning.

“Apology accepted.”

“But you don’t even know why I was mad.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his.

“So tell me.”

“You left the door open. The sliding door, it was open this morning, and it was cold. And I woke up angry and that made me madder.” You leaned your weight into him, and he lifted you up and onto the bed, letting you fully curl into him.

“I’m sorry I left the door open,” he put his palm over your cheek, “I’m sorry, baby, I am.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“I am. I promise I’ll make sure it’s closed next time. I’ll lock it, even.” He wrapped himself around you, and you felt genuinely warm for the first time all day.

“I promise I’ll talk to you next time I get pissed off for no reason.” You mumbled into him.

“Look at us, problem solvers!” He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations through your cheek where it was lying on his chest. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. 

“I got you dinner.” He sat up and reached for the bag of takeout, gently dropping it on the bed.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You haven’t eaten all day.”

“I could’ve made myself something.”

“Too late.” He tore the bag open and took everything out, handing you a fork and a container. You propped yourself up on the pillows at the head of the bed and Pedro followed suit, reaching an arm over your shoulders and letting you lean on it. You moved in closer to him, relishing in the proximity. 

“How was your day?” You asked between mouthfuls.

“Well, my girlfriend yelled at me—” He laughed and you nuzzled your face into his neck. 

[spasmsofthought]

you fell hard, I thought good riddance (j.s. x reader)

An angsty thing inspired by “Best” by Gracie Abrams. (I wrote this at work cause I had the free time and couldn’t help myself.) Let me know what you think! (Probably some inaccuracies, especially if you squint - my step-dad may have done a career in the Navy, but I did and will not lol.) Wrote this all at once, so please have grace for any spelling or grammar mistakes. xo 

Next

https://open.spotify.com/track/5HO2RD12vZ5NcIdAULo43M?si=0ce82485daa44829

+++

Jake knows what he did. 

While not at the forefront of his mind, it weighs on the deepest part of his consciousness and he’s reminded of what he did in what feels like the most random moments. 

When he’s swallowing the last drops of beer in the bottle that’s pressed to his mouth. Or when he’s standing on the beach as the waves are softly rolling against the shore and it’s quiet. Or when he ends up on the couch watching crappy television at 3 a.m. because his flashbacks are keeping him awake and the moment his eyes close, he feels like he’s startled awake because a brightly-colored ad is flashing on the TV screen. 

He sees you every once and a while, he thinks. Whether it’s when he’s tipsy at The Hard Deck and sees someone turn the corner who looks just enough like you from the back. Someone can laugh just the right way down the hall when he’s in the office at work and he has to do a double-take to make sure it’s not you that’s laughing. 

He’s never actually, though, confronted with your physical presence until he finds himself at a joint military exercise in European waters and you are on the same carrier. He’s walking into the cafeteria after a morning of training exercises and immediately zeroes in on you. Once he’s aware of you, he can’t look away. 

It takes a moment for your senses to catch on. (To be fair, the cafeteria is not really known to be an oasis of peace. It’s loud and busy. You’re sitting with friends anyhow.) Your eyes flit to the area where he’s making his way in and he can tell the moment your mind makes sense of what you’re seeing. You glance at him for one long moment, and then you turn towards your friends and stay that way until you all leave. The only thing that has changed about your demeanor is the frown that settles on your expression throughout the rest of your meal. 

He thinks you look even better now than you did back then. 

He thinks he took you by surprise. That you’ve gotten so used to not seeing him around on your deployments and where you’re stationed that you didn’t think you would need to brace yourself on this go around. 

Jake knows what he did and he feels terrible. He didn’t then, but he does now.

Seeing you in actual flesh and blood makes him remember. 

He remembers your utter devotion during your brief time together. 

He remembers that the first time he approached you, he made you laugh. The kind of laughter that leaves a person gasping for air and makes their eyes water. You fell hook, line, and sinker. He remembers the way you would try to make time and space for him whenever you could, despite how busy you were trying to progress in your career. He remembers how he didn’t do the same. 

He remembers that on your off days, you would come over and stay the nights. He remembers the smell of you when you would climb into bed next to him after showering. And when he couldn’t sleep, when his mind was churning and taking him back to things he just wanted to forget, you would sit next to him on the couch at 3 a.m. as he turned the television on. When he closed his eyes, he knows you were the one to turn to TV screen off so he didn’t wake up. He remembers how you would kiss him: sweet and complete and open, always moving in step with him. 

He remembers how wholehearted you were when you were with him. Giving your whole self, all the time. 

Even when he would say sharp, caustic words that would make tears form in your eyes, even when he shut his bedroom door so he wouldn’t feel responsible for making you cry, you stayed. 

He remembers the way you stayed. 

And he remembers how his half-hearted attempts, quarter-hearted attempts really, to draw you back in eventually ran you dry. You were willing to do so much, and he wasn’t really willing to do anything. He was young, but he knows that’s not an excuse now. 

He remembers the light in your eyes changing. He remembers the way you stopped coming over. He remembers the way you didn’t have the courage to tell him you wanted to leave. 

He remembers that you held onto him until the bitter end. 

He knows you won’t talk to him. Every time you see him on the carrier, you make a point to avoid him or walk the other way. He knows you probably resent him (there’s a reason he can’t find you on any social media platforms). He understands why you don’t seem to want anything to do with him. 

So, he investigates. He does what he knows how to do best: he talks and charms and weasels his way through the crowds of people on the carrier. Making his way from one group to another, day and night, Jake gleans for information and eventually finds what he needs. He knows your bunkmate’s name now (and their shift and their position, and even where they like to hang out and what time they prefer to go to the gym). 

You may never read it, he knows. You may can it or tear it up and throw it out into the ocean. You may even wait until you can set it on fire and watch it burn. 

But he knows he has to try. 

So when he finds your bunkmate, he hands them a piece of paper and tells them it’s for you. It’s small and doesn’t take up much room. Your bunkmate only nods, a look of confusion passing over their face. He says it’s important that it be delivered to you. Those are his only instructions. 

If he had the opportunity to talk to you in person, he might have the chance to elongate. To say more, be more. But he might not ever get the chance to do that, so he’s going to take what he can get. 

You pass your bunkmate between shifts: you’re just getting back for some sleep, and they’re heading out. They say there’s a piece of paper you need to read on your pillow. Hand-delivered, they say the instructions were. No follow-up is required. You wait until they leave. Until you’re left alone. 

You open up the folded-up piece of paper. 

This is what it says: 

I’m sorry. You deserved better. 

[muiitoloko]

The gypsy witch

Summary: The damned gypsy witch bewitched him, Slope was certain of it.

Pairing: Obadiah Slope × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, degradationself-punishment and violence.

Author's Notes: You've asked so much for a part two that I was surprised by it, but here it is!

First, Second, Third, Fourth and Fifth part here.

Also read on Ao3

In the days that followed that fateful encounter with you, Mr. Obadiah Slope found himself in a constant battle against his own desires. Each morning began with a rigorous routine of self-punishment and penance. He fasted, depriving himself of food and drink, hoping to cleanse his mind of impure thoughts. He prayed fervently, spending hours on his knees in the cold stone chapel, seeking forgiveness for the sinful acts he had committed. He lashed his own back with a whip, the sting of the lash serving as a painful reminder of the temptations that haunted him.

Throughout the day, Mr. Slope tried to avoid any reminders of you. He busied himself with his duties as chaplain, visiting the sick, comforting the needy, and delivering sermons that preached against the dangers of lust and desire. Yet, despite his efforts, he could not banish you from his thoughts. Your image lingered in his mind, your voice echoing in his ears, and the taste of your lips on his mouth.

At night, exhausted from his day of self-inflicted punishment, Mr. Slope would collapse into bed, hoping for respite in sleep. But even there, you haunted him. In his dreams, he would see you standing before him, your body a tantalizing temptation that he longed to touch but knew he must resist. He would wake in a cold sweat, his heart pounding with guilt and desire, unable to escape the hold you had over him.

Today was no different. Mr. Slope sat in the chapel, the early morning light filtering through stained glass windows, casting colorful shadows on the stone floor. His hands were clasped tightly in prayer, his eyes closed in concentration. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he whispered, the words a desperate plea for absolution.

His mind wandered, despite his best efforts to keep it focused. Images of you, your eyes dark with desire, your lips parted in a teasing smile, flashed before him. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but they persisted, tormenting him with their forbidden allure.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Slope rose from his knees, his body stiff and sore from the hours spent in prayer. He made his way back to his small room in the clergy house, the weight of his guilt heavy on his shoulders. He knew he must resist you, must avoid your presence at all costs, but the pull of desire was too strong.

As he entered his room, Mr. Slope closed the door behind him, leaning heavily against it. He removed his vestments with trembling hands, the fabric feeling heavy and suffocating against his skin. He sat down on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands.

"Why do you torment me so?" he murmured to himself, the words barely audible. "I am a man of God, a chaplain in His service. I cannot allow myself to be consumed by these impure thoughts."

But even as he spoke the words, he knew they were futile. His body ached with desire, his mind filled with fantasies that he knew could never be realized. And yet, you had awakened a passion in him that he could not ignore.

Mr. Slope stood up suddenly, his hands trembling with a mixture of guilt and longing. He walked to the window, staring out at the town of Barchester spread out before him. The morning mist was beginning to lift, revealing the familiar streets and buildings that he had come to know so well.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memories of you, but they came flooding back with renewed intensity. Your touch, your scent, the way your eyes had sparkled with mischief – all of it consumed him, driving him to the brink of madness.

"I must be strong," he whispered to himself, clenching his fists in determination. "I must resist temptation, no matter how strong it may be."

But even as he made the vow, Mr. Slope knew that he was fighting a losing battle. His heart yearned for you, his body burned with desire, and there was nothing he could do to quench the fire that you had ignited within him.

The days turned into weeks, and Mr. Slope continued to wrestle with his inner demons. He threw himself into his work, hoping the distraction would help him forget you, but it was no use. Everywhere he turned, he saw reminders of you—in the faces of the townspeople, in the streets he walked, even in the quiet solitude of the chapel.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

In the quiet stillness of your shop, you were going about your business, arranging bottles of herbal remedies and tinctures on the shelves, when the door creaked open. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up to see Mr. Slope, the local chaplain, stepping into your establishment.

Mr. Slope's eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. There was a hunger in his gaze, a yearning that mirrored your own. And as he approached, his movements purposeful and determined, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation.

"Mr. Slope," you greeted him, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies that danced in your stomach. "What brings you to my humble shop today?"

He ignored your question, his eyes sweeping over your form with undisguised desire. "You look as enchanting as ever, my dear," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You fought to keep a defiant expression on your face, refusing to let him see how his words affected you. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Slope," you replied, your tone sharper than intended.

But Mr. Slope seemed unfazed by your rebuke, his lips curling into a knowing smile. "Oh, I think it might," he said cryptically, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Before you could respond, he crossed the distance between you in a few swift strides, his hands reaching out to grab you by the arm. "Come with me," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You bristled at his audacity, pulling away from his grasp. "And why would I do that?" you demanded, your voice tinged with annoyance.

But Mr. Slope ignored your question, his grip tightening on your arm as he led you towards the back of the store. Panic flared in your chest as you realized his intentions, but you forced yourself to stay calm, to think of a way out of this predicament.

"What do you think you're doing, Mr. Slope?" you demanded, your voice laced with defiance as he pushed you against the wall.

He ignored your question, his eyes blazing with a mixture of desire and frustration. "Damn gypsy," he muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening around your throat.

You gasped, the pressure on your windpipe making it difficult to breathe. "What kind of dirty magic did you play on me to torment me like this?" he growled, his voice thick with anger.

You struggled against his grip, clawing at his hand in a desperate attempt to free yourself. "Let go of me, you madman!" you choked out, your voice barely a whisper.

But Mr. Slope's grip only tightened, his eyes burning with a fire that sent shivers down your spine. "You will tell me what you've done to me," he insisted, his voice low and dangerous.

With a surge of adrenaline, you managed to twist out of his grasp, your hand flying out to strike him across with all the force you could muster. Slope staggered back, his grip loosening as he stumbled to his knees, clutching his stomach in pain.

You took a step back, panting for breath as you watched him writhing on the floor, the agony etched into his features. "That's what you get for laying hands on a woman without her consent," you spat, your voice filled with venom.

But even as you spoke, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight of him brought low, his pride shattered by your defiance. Slope's eyes flickered open, his gaze locking with yours as he struggled to rise to his feet. "You'll pay for that, you wretched witch," he snarled, his voice thick with rage.

You laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the walls of the small room. "I'd like to see you try," you challenged, your voice ringing with defiance.

With a growl of frustration, Slope surged to his feet, his hands reaching out to grab you by the shoulders. But before he could make another move, you seized the opportunity to strike, grabbing hold of his robes and pulling him close.

He froze, his eyes widening in shock as you pressed your lips to his, tasting the bitterness of his defeat on his tongue. For a moment, he resisted, his body stiff with surprise. But then, to your astonishment, he responded eagerly, his arms encircling you as he deepened the kiss.

The world around you seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, the forbidden passion that had simmered between you finally boiling over. And as Slope's lips moved hungrily against yours, you couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph at having finally broken through his defenses.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were left breathless, your bodies pressed close together in the dim light of the back room. Slope's eyes were dark with desire, his hands trembling as they traced the contours of your face.

"I... I don't know what came over me," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand. "It doesn't matter," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "All that matters is that you're here, with me, now."

Slope nodded, his eyes shining with a newfound sense of clarity. "I can't stay away from you," he admitted, his voice filled with longing.

You leaned in to kiss him again, your lips meeting in a passionate embrace. "Then don't," you murmured against his mouth, your words a promise of things to come.

And as Slope pulled you close, his lips hungry and demanding, you knew that this was only the beginning of a forbidden love that would consume you both. But for now, in this moment, all that mattered was the fire that burned between you, igniting the darkness with its incandescent glow.

Mr. Slope's hands roamed your body with a fervor that matched your own, his touch igniting sparks of desire wherever it landed. He was a man driven to the brink of madness by his conflicting emotions, and you were the catalyst that had pushed him over the edge. You reveled in the power you held over him, knowing that despite his position and his vows, he was just a man—vulnerable and fallible.

Your fingers worked quickly, loosening the buttons of his clerical robes and slipping them off his shoulders. He shivered as the cool air touched his skin, but his eyes never left yours. There was a raw intensity in his gaze, a hunger that had been suppressed for too long.

"Do you still think me a witch?" you whispered, your voice a sultry purr as you pressed your body against his, your hands exploring the hard muscles of his chest.

Slope's breath hitched, his hands trembling as they slid down your sides to rest on your hips. "Perhaps," he admitted, his voice rough with desire. "But if you are, then I am damned, for I cannot resist you."

You smiled, a triumphant glint in your eyes as you pushed him back against the wall, your fingers trailing down to the waistband of his trousers. "Then let us be damned together, Mr. Slope," you murmured, your voice filled with seductive promise.

With a swift motion, you unfastened his trousers and let them fall to the floor, his arousal evident as you wrapped your hand around him, eliciting a groan of pleasure from his lips. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer as you began to stroke him, your movements slow and deliberate.

"God help me," he whispered, his eyes closing as he surrendered to the sensations you were creating.

You chuckled softly, your breath hot against his ear. "There is no God here, Mr. Slope," you teased, your voice a low, throaty whisper. "Only us."

He shuddered at your words, his hands sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. "Then take me, temptress," he pleaded, his voice a desperate rasp. "Show me the pleasures of the flesh that I have denied myself for so long."

You needed no further encouragement. With a swift, practiced motion, you freed yourself from your skirts, the fabric pooling at your feet as you stepped out of them. You could feel the heat of his gaze on your body, the admiration and desire burning in his eyes as he took in the sight of you.

Without breaking eye contact, you guided him to the floor, your movements fluid and graceful as you straddled his hips. His hands found your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as you lowered yourself onto him, the feeling of him filling you completely drawing a moan from your lips.

For a moment, you both stayed still, savoring the sensation of being joined together, of finally giving in to the desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Then, slowly, you began to move, your hips rocking against his as you set a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.

As Slope lay on the floor, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, he watched you with a mixture of awe and trepidation. Here he was, a virgin and a clergyman, succumbing to the temptations of the flesh in a way he had never imagined possible.

You rode him with a grace and skill that left him breathless, your body moving in perfect harmony with his as you sank down onto his cock. He could feel the heat of you surrounding him, the tightness of your walls gripping him in an embrace that threatened to consume him whole.

But even as pleasure coursed through his veins, Slope couldn't shake the nagging voice of guilt in the back of his mind. Sex before marriage was a sin, a transgression against the laws of God and man. And yet, here he was, unable to resist the siren call of your body.

"What... what are you doing to me?" he gasped, his voice strained with desire and confusion.

You smiled down at him, your eyes dark with lust as you began to undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing the swell of your breasts beneath. "I'm showing you the pleasures of the flesh, Mr. Slope," you purred, your voice dripping with seduction, "as you asked."

Slope's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his mind reeling with the forbiddenness of it all. With a practiced motion, you pulled yourself off him, leaving Slope panting and desperate for release. But before he could protest, you knelt between his legs, your hands wrapping around his throbbing member as you began to stroke him with practiced expertise.

Slope's breath caught in his throat as waves of pleasure washed over him, his hips bucking involuntarily as you worked your magic on him. He was teetering on the edge, his resolve crumbling with each passing moment.

"Oh, God," he gasped, his voice thick with desire. "I can't hold back any longer."

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you quickened your pace, driving him closer and closer to the brink. "Let go, Mr. Slope," you urged him, your voice a husky whisper. "Give in to the pleasure."

With a primal roar, Slope surrendered to the ecstasy, his body convulsing as he spilled his seed onto your waiting hand. He cried out your name, his voice a symphony of pleasure as he rode the waves of ecstasy to their peak.

As he collapsed against the floor, spent and satisfied, Slope felt a sense of peace wash over him. Despite the sinfulness of his actions, despite the guilt that gnawed at his conscience, he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of fulfillment that coursed through him.

And as he lay there, basking in the afterglow of his release, he knew that he would never be able to resist the temptation of you again. You had awakened a passion in him that he could never hope to suppress, a desire that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

As Slope looked up at you, his eyes filled with adoration and gratitude, he knew that he was lost. Lost to the irresistible allure of your body, lost to the intoxicating pleasures of the flesh, lost to the forbidden love that had consumed him whole.

At that moment, as you held him in your arms, Mr. Obadiah Slope couldn't bring himself to care about the consequences. For now, the weight of his guilt and the fear of damnation were overshadowed by the profound sense of connection and fulfillment he felt with you. He sat up with your help, pulling his pants and underwear up clumsily as you started to dress yourself.

But just as you began to fasten your blouse, Slope stopped you, his hand gently resting on yours. His eyes were filled with a mix of vulnerability and desire. "Wait," he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "I... I want to please you too. But I don't know what to do."

You smiled to yourself, a warm and knowing smile. This was a man who had spent his life in denial, in repression, and now, here he was, yearning to learn the ways of pleasure. "It's alright, Slope," you whispered, your voice soothing and encouraging. "I'll show you."

You took his hands and placed them on your body, showing him how to touch you, how to explore your curves and contours. "Feel me," you murmured, your breath hot against his ear. "Learn what makes me shiver, what makes me moan."

His hands moved tentatively at first, tracing the lines of your body with a mix of reverence and curiosity. You guided him, encouraging him with soft sighs and whispered instructions. "Yes, just like that," you breathed as his fingers found the sensitive skin of your neck. "And here," you continued, moving his hand lower to the curve of your breast. "Touch me gently, but with purpose."

Slope's breath quickened, his eyes darkening with desire as he followed your lead. "I want to make you feel as you made me feel," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

"You will," you promised, your voice a sultry purr. "But you need to listen to my body. Let it guide you."

With that, you laid back, pulling him down with you, his body pressing against yours. His lips found your neck, his kisses tentative at first but growing bolder with each passing moment. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the gentle scrape of his teeth, and it sent shivers down your spine.

"Slope," you moaned, your hands threading through his hair, guiding him lower. "Taste me."

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of himself, but the desire in your voice spurred him on. His mouth traveled down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When he reached the soft swell of your breasts, he paused, looking up at you for reassurance.

"Go on," you encouraged, your voice breathless. "Take me in your mouth."

He obeyed, his lips closing around your nipple, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.

"Yes, just like that," you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Keep going."

Slope's confidence grew with your encouragement. He suckled at your breast, his hand moving to the other, kneading gently. You guided him with soft moans and whispered praises, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

But you wanted more. You wanted him to lose himself in you, to give in completely to the desire that simmered between you. "Lower," you urged, your voice a breathless command. "I want to feel your mouth on me."

Slope's eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate. He moved down your body, his hands and lips exploring every inch of your skin. When he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, looking up at you with a mixture of awe and trepidation.

"Here?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

You nodded, your eyes dark with lust. "Yes," you breathed. "Taste me here."

With a deep breath, Slope lowered his head, his tongue tentatively flicking out to taste you. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Oh, yes," you moaned, your hips lifting to meet his mouth. "Just like that."

He licked and sucked, his movements growing bolder with each passing moment. You guided him with your hands, showing him how to please you, how to drive you wild with desire. "Don't stop," you gasped, your body trembling with need. "I'm so close."

Slope's hands gripped your thighs, his mouth working tirelessly to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. You could feel the tension building, the pleasure mounting until it was almost unbearable.

And then, with a cry of pure bliss, you came undone, your body arching off the floor as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Slope held you tightly, his mouth never leaving your body, his hands soothing you through the aftershocks.

When you finally came down from your high, you looked down at Slope, his face flushed with exertion and desire. "You did it," you whispered, your voice filled with wonder. "You pleased me."

But Slope kept his gaze fixed on your pussy. His mind raced with a torrent of conflicting emotions. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight before him, the taste of you still lingering on his lips, sweet and intoxicating. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, a forbidden pleasure that sent shivers down his spine.

Were all women like that? Did they all taste divine? The thought sent a surge of desire coursing through him, his body responding eagerly to the memories of your touch.

But even as he reveled in the sensations that you had awakened in him, Slope couldn't shake the nagging voice of guilt in the back of his mind. What had you done to him, you damn gypsy? What sort of dark magic had you wielded to ensnare him so completely?

He tried to push the thoughts aside, to lose himself in the intoxicating haze of desire that clouded his mind. But the questions lingered, tormenting him with their unspoken accusations.

"You bewitched me," he muttered under his breath, his voice thick with frustration and longing. "You made me forget everything I swore to uphold, everything I believed in."

But even as he spoke the words, Slope knew that it was futile to resist. You had awakened a passion in him that he could never hope to suppress, a desire that burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

With a groan of frustration, he leaned down, pressing his lips to your pussy once more, his tongue tracing the delicate folds with a mix of reverence and hunger. He was lost to the pleasures of the flesh, a slave to the forbidden desires that had consumed him whole.

And as he lost himself in the heat of the moment, Slope knew that there would be no turning back. For better or for worse, he was yours now, body and soul, bound to you by the irresistible allure of your touch.

[mosaickiwi]

Hi hi, if your requests are still open, could you do [REDACTED] becoming self aware and finding out that the player is super obsessed with him? From his pov cuz I wanna see the internal dialogue. Been meaning to write this myself, but alas, writer’s block 😞

obsessed angel is best angel hehehe >:3c

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~Super Obsessed Angel~

The library was often slow in the morning, so you always put some extra time into helping whoever came in. You were getting a few books off the higher shelves for an elderly visitor. As you climbed down the ladder, a stack of novels held to your chest, you were completely unaware of the other visitor who’d been sneaking through the aisles since they arrived. [REDACTED]’s gaze was glued to you, lost in thought as he watched you go about your day.

Something about you had changed since he did away with the Ren persona, as if a certain switch had been flipped on in your brain. It was easy to connect the dots for them—you'd been so obvious about it. Or maybe years of watching you just made every little change easy to spot: you were utterly obsessed with them.

The first clue was a genuine shock for once. He'd dropped you off at your apartment after a date as he always did. You were well past nervous and shy the whole time, but it was to be expected since he wasn't “Ren” anymore. Under the dark mess of hair, black outfit, piercings and tattoos, he was a nervous wreck, too. Far more than normal to pick up the hints of what came next.

As soon as your door closed the dark-haired man pulled out their phone to admire you through the cameras placed in your home. He thought you'd surely wind down on your couch before bed like usual. Maybe even chat up a friend while catching up on your favorite anime.

Instead they were greeted with the sight of you still standing in the entry and typing away on your own phone. He quickly switched to watch your screen, eyes widening at the rapid barrage of texts you were sending to Moth. All gushing with joy about your date.

Of course he committed them all to memory immediately—and his eyes had widened at some of the more interesting things you'd typed before hastily erasing it for a slightly less unhinged message. But one in particular stood out.

“I don't think I can be normal about them.”

That was months ago, and each new thing you did only reminded him of it. He noticed everything and he loved it.

Your bright smiles as you leaned into their touch, their side, their embrace at any chance you got—they had his heart soaring. If only they had let you convince them to do away with “Ren” sooner. 

You even accepted the ring once thrown away all those years ago. Still on the necklace he’d worn to keep it close to his heart, but now a favored offering he would catch you playing with throughout the day while distracted by something or another.

It was everything he ever dreamed of. Of course, the quirks you picked up when you thought they weren’t looking were just as fascinating.

The way you always hastily tucked your phone away when he came back into a room was precious. As if they hadn't seen the photo of them you used as a wallpaper, least of all the dozens of other pictures you thought were safely hidden in the depths of your phone gallery. He had a picture to match each of yours in the thousands that filled his own devices.

Innocent calls in the middle of the night where you’d say you couldn't sleep just to hear their voice. He thought about teasing you and saying you could just record it, but then you wouldn't have an excuse—a blatant lie, he knew—to call. They always wanted to hear you just as much anyways, if not more. And even if you did figure out how to record it, he'd make sure the audio file somehow mysteriously disappeared.

He was almost certain of your obsession once you started taking clothes. Hoodies and jackets were obvious, especially since he intentionally left them out for you. That was more than enough to have him practically ecstatic. 

Until one morning after you spent the night he realized a few things were missing from his wash pile. A cursory glance through their security system’s recordings confirmed it. The items in question had been purposefully stolen from the middle of the basket so as not to arouse immediate suspicion, and squirreled away in your bag without their notice. He’d only left your side for a moment that day to pick up the takeout order at the door. You were starting to get careful. It made him all the more desperate in seeing what else you’d do.

The sound of a scanner beeping in the silence of the library brought him back to the present as you finished up with the elderly visitor. You politely bid them farewell before sitting back in your chair with a huff.

They couldn’t help but notice the hopeful glance you threw towards a spot on your desk that was obscured from their vision. No doubt the place where you always kept your phone during work. Your hand reached out of habit for the golden ring—his ring—dangling from your neck.

Were you thinking of him? It was only fair that he indulged you. He was thinking of you just the same. One text hurriedly tapped out on his cracked screen, and he was intoxicated by the love struck way your face lit up at the buzz of your phone mere seconds later.

Eventually he knew he'd have to come clean about spying on you. But he had a feeling you wouldn't complain too much. The obsession was finally mutual, after all.

[thedroneranger]

A Little Time Alone

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: Bradley and his wife have been busy with everything except each other.

Note: One of two entires for @roosterforme’s #love is in the air tgm love song playlist challenge. This fic is inspired by Luke Comb's The Kind of Love We Make.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.7k

It had been weeks since we spent any time together. 

Between the new curriculum and latest batch of pilots, I was coming home late every night and leaving early every morning.

At first, she was doing her damnedest to stay up until I got home. Each night, before sliding into bed, I would slip her tablet from her clutches and remove her askew reading glasses, placing both on her nightstand. Once I settled into bed, unconsciously, she would snuggle into me, allowing me to fall asleep with a smile.

However, lately, it was clear she had been sleeping for hours. Tucked into bed, fast asleep with just her hair peeking between the bedding. I would slide into my side and do my best not to disturb her.

Each morning, I didn’t leave without giving her a goodbye kiss, but guilt always edged my decision to not wake her. Instead, I would press my lips to her forehead or cheek, whichever was exposed.

Things seemed to take a turn after her plan to surprise me with lunch on base was foiled. Normally, she would coordinate with Maverick, if he were around, or the security guard she had befriended to sneak into my office with sandwiches from our favorite deli.

Of course, she always wore a dress, which made it easy for me to bend her over my desk for a pleasurable finish. 

We had a text code so I knew to expect her. The last time she plotted a lunchtime date, I, unbeknownst, stood her up. Unable to check my texts all morning, I never saw her message and never went to my office. It wasn’t until later in the evening I saw several messages and a couple missed calls. 

I was devastated and wanted to apologize in person. However, she was always asleep when I got home. I even tried to call a few times during the day, but I never managed to catch her. After that, we exchanged fewer and fewer texts throughout each day. 

Even our weekends had been spent separately. I found myself on base more and more for special events and training. Hell, the last couple weekends, I even slept there.

She, on the other hand, has been a godsend, representing us both at family get-togethers and other personal events.

I can only imagine how she felt, likely making up excuses for my lack of presence.

The whole situation made me absolutely miserable.

“Bradley. Bradley. Bradley!” My head jerked to find Maverick intensely staring at me.

“Yeah, Mav?” I coughed to clear my throat and gave him my full attention.

He and I were alone in his office. Maverick and I were co-instructors for an upcoming class. We were going over the lesson plan when my thoughts drifted. “What’s on your mind, Bradley?” Mav put down his pen, leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

Shifting in my chair, I noticed the tension in my shoulders and that I’d been holding my breath. Subtly untensing, I spoke. “I can’t remember the last time I spent time with my wife, and she’s getting distant.”

Maverick leaned forward. He loved her like a daughter. Actually, I was convinced he liked her more than me. Mav was always reminding me not to let work ruin our relationship. 

Not that he had room to talk. 

Although, he and Penny have appeared rock solid since getting back together. Once Maverick proposed and they wed, Penny was the happiest I’ve ever seen her.

“Bradley—”

I cut off Mav. “I know, I know. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Go home,” he said.

“What?” My eyebrow cocked.

“Go home. Report back on Monday,” Mav said. We stared at each other for almost a full minute. “Go fix it.” The tone in Mav’s voice told me he was about to make it an order, so I nodded, gave a quick salute and dashed out.

Not having been home at a decent hour in nearly a month, I forgot what traffic was like. It had me doubting if I would be home any earlier than as of late. 

Her vehicle was in the driveway when I finally pulled up.

My feet were carrying me faster than my brain was processing. My mind was trying to get my hands under control so I could get the key in the door, when the door flung open.

A gasp left her lips as our gazes locked. “Hey, stranger.” She did her best to hide a smirk. Unfazed, I walked toward her, forcing her to back up and allow me into the house. Once far enough in, I closed the door. 

“Hey,” I replied. My eyes raked across her form. She was wearing a short red sundress and some strappy sandals. My cock twitched. I could not recall the last time I saw her in anything other than our fluffy duvet. 

“I should go—I don’t want to be late.” She walked toward me and got on her toes to kiss my cheek. However, I turned my head and captured her lips with mine. She hesitated for a second, but melted into me as I wrapped an arm around her waist and the other hugged her ribcage. Her hand slid from my bicep up to my neck. 

We separated just enough to look into each other’s eyes. “I hate that I forgot what you feel like,” she said. 

The comment made me hold her tighter. “We can’t have that,” I said as a matter of fact. Her eyebrow and lips quirked. I smiled at her. “I’ve been missing you more than you can imagine,” I confessed.

She was still looking at me with a tight smile. “I may have an idea.” She pursed her lips and looked off the side. Then, she looked back at me and pressed her lips to mine. As we kissed, I uncoiled an arm from around her, so I could reach back to lock the door.

She heard the click. “I have to go,” she said with her lips still against mine. 

Again, we separated just enough to look at one another. “Cancel.” My voice was more demanding than either of us expected. She looked surprised but not offended. “We need a little time alone.” I sounded softer. “So tonight, I’m only gonna be your man,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m off the entire weekend.”

“Bradley Alexander—” She was ready to scold me for messing with her. 

“Scout’s honor.” I held my fingers up in the Eagle Scout sign. We stared at each other. “There’s no way I’m leaving this house, especially when you look this good.” My hand dropped lower to squeeze her backside. She dropped her head trying to hide the blush in her cheeks as if I’d never seen it before.

“Go shower,” she said. My grip on her loosened so she could step away. “I’m not spending the evening huffing jet fuel.” She looked my attire up and down. I left in such a rush, I still had my flight suit on. 

Extra swagger in her hips, she sauntered to the kitchen. For a split second, I considered following her and bending her over the nearest surface. But tonight called for something slower, softer than a counter quickie.

Instead, I went to our ensuite bathroom and let the water pressure ease my muscles. Soothed by the water and steam, I lost track of time. When I realized, I hopped out, did a quick shave and dressed.

We were home, but she was wearing that sinful sundress, so I at least wanted to wear something I knew she’d love. I put on my favorite pair of worn jeans, a white tank and an Aloha shirt I knew was one of her favorites. 

I padded downstairs, noticing the lights were low and she’d lit candles. A smile turned my lips when I heard Led Zeppelin IV spinning on the record player—I thought about the countless times we made out to this soundtrack.

When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. She was sitting on our small breakfast table, palm supporting her, head tilted back, wine glass to her lips. One leg ran the radius of the table while the other hung off at the knee. Her heel popping to the beat of the music.

She turned to look at me. “Wine?” She held out her glass. I shook my head as a coy smile pulled a corner of my mouth. She winked as she polished off the last sip in her glass.

As I approached the table, she shifted so she was facing me and placed the glass at her side. Stepping between her legs, I pushed the glass further back. A hand on either side of her, I leaned so we were at eye level. 

Her hand cupped the side of my jaw, and her thumb ran along my lips. Mindlessly, I pressed a kiss to it. The tiniest smile curled the corners of her mouth as she searched my face. I hummed as her fingers traversed the raised skin of my scars and came to rest on the dip of my chest just below my clavicles. “Do you have any idea how handsome you are?” she asked.

Surely she felt my chest rumble as I chuckled. “Only when you tell me.” My voice was raspier than usual. Leaning further into her, I dropped my head to place soft kisses on her neck. 

“Surely other women tell you.” I knew exactly what she was doing. 

“I can assure you, they keep their thoughts to themselves,” I replied. Between kisses I told her about my latest class catching sight of her on base. It was the last time we had lunch together before our drought. A couple of them commented about a hot civilian. Turning, I found her chatting with Maverick. 

I told them the easiest way to not return from a mission was ogling another pilot’s spouse. One of the women who had been doing her damnedest to flirt with me blurted, “That’s your wife?!” I nodded at her with a wink. She paled and never looked me in the eye again.

The earned laugh that quickly morphed into a moan had me considering unzipping my pants and unceremoniously fucking her. But I had to pace myself. She was flat against the table, my body covering her with my forearms holding me up as I kissed whatever exposed skin was available. The raggedness of her breathing kept me going. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me not to wake you up every night at some ungodly hour?” I told her, picking my head up to see her response. 

Her bottom lip was between her teeth as her eyes twinkled in the low light. “Why wouldn’t you wake me up?” she asked. Her thighs were squeezing my hips, the skirt of her dress covering almost nothing. 

“First, you sleep through absolutely everything.” She chuckled as my hands skimmed her bare thighs. “We could be having a magnitude 10 earthquake, and you’d sleep through it.” She nodded in agreement as one of my hands slid between us. 

I froze. “Where are your underwear?” She never went commando without a purpose. 

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Maybe I was hoping you would be home, in bed, when I returned. And I could wake you up.” She paused. “If you came home.” Her gaze was intense.

My smile faltered and my head dropped with my shoulders in a moment of guilt. Quickly, I looked back up at her. “I’m sorry.” Still gripping her thigh, my thumb drew circles on it. 

“Show me,” she said.

“Excuse me?” I had expected her to scold me or for us to get into a deep conversation about the past month.

She moved my hand from her thigh to between her legs. “Actions speak louder than words.” Expertly, she maneuvered my hand to guide two fingers into her. “Show me how sorry you are. How much you’ve missed me.”

For a minute, I froze. Tired of waiting for me, she wrapped her hand around my wrist to slide my fingers in and out of her. Finally, I got a hold of myself, my thumb pressing to her swollen bundle of nerves and the pads of my fingers stimulating that spongy spot inside. Her breath caught as I took over.

“That’s it, honey.” She melted against the table. “Let’s take it nice and slow.” She clenched around my fingers—I thought I might come right then. “Fuck,” I said under my breath. She smiled as she watched me squeeze my eyes shut. 

Back on her elbows, her fingers snuck into my hair and pulled me until our lips connected. My lips parted just enough to allow her tongue in. It toyed with mine, matching the rhythm of my fingers pumping in and out of her. Her lips left mine with a smack. “Bradley,” she moaned as I alternated between scissoring my fingers and curling them against her G spot.

“That’s it,” I cooed, keeping the same pace and pattern. I could feel her tightening around my fingers. “Fuck,” I breathed out, enjoying the feel of her. My lips fell to her neck, knowing the additional contact would send her over the edge. 

The stutter breath she let out matched her contractions around my fingers. “That’s it, honey.” I watched her face as she went through her high, my fingers keeping pace. As she untensed, I slowed to a stop. She looked at me as she steadied her breathing and a smile appeared. She continued to watch as I cleaned her from my fingers. Immediately, she pulled me down to taste herself.

She hummed as we separated. “Go pick another album. I wanted to make out with you on the couch.” My cock jumped from just the words leaving her mouth. Standing to my full height, I helped her off the table. 

She shooed me with her hands to the living room where my inherited record player was housed. I thumbed the sleeves until I found the perfect selection: The Velvet Underground’s Loaded.

As soon as the needle fell into the groove, she appeared with the bottle of wine. We both traipsed to the couch. She split the wine as I settled into the sofa. I accepted a glass and then beckoned her to sink into my side. Together, we sipped and listened to the opening song. 

As the next began to play, she placed our empty glasses on the coffee table and straddled my lap. My hands came to rest on the tops of her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher to expose more skin. She shimmied even closer to me, so she was at even more of a height advantage—my head was tipped almost completely back. 

Her fingers sifted through my locks, her nails massaging my scalp. A deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding escaped my parted lips. She smiled as she watched me relax. My eyes were practically in the back of my head, her massage turning my mind to mush.

She tugged my hair, which earned a moan and caused me to shift under her. She ground against me, the stiff seams of my jeans caressing her most sensitive spot. I let her roll my head to the side so she had better access to pepper kisses along my neck. She continued to grind against my denim-clad crotch. Boy, did I wish there were less fabric between us. 

My fingers dug into her thighs as she sank her teeth into my neck. “Christ,” I said under my breath. She sat back and eyed me, proud of the reaction she got. Her thumb passed over the spot that would surely be purple later. “Maybe your students will have fewer questions come Monday.” Before I could say anything, she leaned in and sweetly pressed her lips to mine. 

“You’re such a sour patch kid,” I teased. She smiled at the nickname while she nipped my lips and swirled her tongue against mine. At the same time, her hands were busy unfastening my jeans. She climbed off my lap, and I lifted my hips to help her rid me of my garments. 

Climbing back into my lap, her knees bracketed my hips and the tops of her feet contoured the curve of my thighs. Her core rested against my length. I wanted nothing more than to guide myself into her.

“It’s really unfair you look this good in such a silly print.” Her fingers followed the shoulder seams of my shirt to the collar. Using the points, she pulled me back in for a kiss. As we separated, her hands dipped under my collar and over my shoulders to help shed the cloth. 

Once that was off, she took advantage of a tiny hole I hadn't noticed in my tank. Penetrating it with her finger, she pulled and the fabric easily gave way. I watched as the hole grew and she fisted the fabric to snap it at the hems. She untangled me from the ruined garment and dropped it to the floor. 

My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer and hands palming her backside through her dress. Her hips lifted, and with one hand, she guided me into her. Slowly, she returned to her resting position. A sigh left my mouth as I felt her adjusting to me.

“Honey,” I trailed off as she squeezed me a couple times. We kept eye contact as she began to slowly lift and lower herself. The pace quickened just a bit as she fell into rhythm with the music.

As she kept going, my hands slipped under her dress and began to pull it up until it was over her head. Once it was off, my mouth immediately found one of her nipples. The moan that left her lips was euphoric. 

It made me bite her harder. She let out something between a moan and cry as her nails sank into my shoulders. I hissed, enjoying the burn as she scored my skin.

She was frustrated, and I wanted every bit of that energy. 

Not wanting to miss any of it, I coiled an arm back around her waist and easily flipped us so she was laying on the couch parallel with the cushions. 

Her doe eyes stared up at me, filled with surprise. My quirked lip grew to a smirk, as I anchored a hand on the cushion beside her head and the other on the couch back. My hips began to rock, setting a new pace for us. The lust came back to her gaze as her soft thighs met my hips and her heels found purchase in the dimples of my ass. 

I held it together as her nails gently ran from the top of my cock to just under my pecs and back. Her touch was soft but firm enough not to tickle. I flexed a little extra. 

Watching her breasts bounce with each thrust was enamoring. Her breathy gasps each time I bottomed out were the only noise I was hearing. My eyes sank as she stopped touching me and started touching herself. 

My pace stayed the same, but my gaze was trapped where we connected. I slid in and out while her digits swirled along her swollen nerves. My hips stuttered from the added pleasure as her index and forefingers made a V around the base of cock. “Fuck me,” I whined. 

She smiled. “No, you’re fucking me,” she corrected. We laughed together. 

“I missed this so, so much,” I confessed. Wanting to be closer to her, I sank to my elbows. I tucked my palm behind her head, letting my fingers sift through her hair. Her eyes were hooded as she looked at me through her lashes. 

We locked gazes as she took a deep breath and moved her hands to my waist, her nails sinking into the flesh just above my hips. At the same time, I felt her entire lower half contract, thighs hugging me and core convulsing. 

“Bradley.” My name was long and drawn out as it left her lips. It was enough to make me spill into her. I breathed her name into the crook of her neck as I curled my arm under her head, my elbow became her head rest, to hug her whole body as close as possible. Her hand ran up my side and hooked around my shoulder. 

I followed her name with a pleasurable hiss as her teeth sank into the meat of my shoulder. She punctuated the action with a tender kiss. The first of several she trailed into the crook of my neck as we rode out our orgasms.

Just as we came down from our high, the record ended. “Perfect timing.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling out and heading to the record player. She whined, but turned to enjoy the view as I walked away. Patiently, she waited as I flipped the vinyl and put it back on the player. I lined up the needle perfectly, and immediately the opening notes seeped out of the speakers. 

By the time I was headed back to the couch, she was standing beside it. “Should we change the dress code in the house to birthday suits only?” I pressed my body to hers, enjoying the full frontal contact and handful of her ass I grabbed. She squeaked and arched her back. My lips covered hers to distract from her attempt to escape. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled into her lips. 

We parted just far enough to look one another in the eyes. Her expression was playful. “Apology accepted.” I squeezed her around her ribcage and stuck my face in the crook of her neck. Although we were stark naked, our hug was earnest. 

As we separated, she held my biceps, keeping us close. “Let’s go upstairs so you can keep doing what you’re doing to me all night long.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Together, we blew out all the candles, and then walked upstairs hand-in-hand.

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[bagopucks]

Q. Hughes - Wildest Storms

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): anxiety/panic attack, mentioned kidnapping, Mentioned therapy? Is that considered a trigger? I’m still learning.

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“I love you! We’ll be back around twelve, I promise!”

Quinn promised…

I never told Quinn no to anything when his team won a game. The Canucks always seemed to be struggling, and Quinn was always tense. So on the occasions when he did win, and when he felt on top of the world, I never held him back.

Some nights after a big win, Quinn would spend copious amounts of time with me. He’d come straight home and we’d sit and talk for hours, splurge in bed on snacks we shouldn’t before sleeping, or hop in a bath together to relax. My sleep schedule was never the greatest, so it was natural for me to be up past one am. Especially when Quinn was playing hockey, or out of town for a road trip.

Other nights however, Quinn would come home, change, kiss me and ask if he could go out, and then off he went.

Usually I was good with Quinn leaving and being out past midnight. He was responsible, and loyal. If he was having fun, I saw no reason to stop him. But this night in particular just seemed to be going wrong.

I’d had a therapy appointment earlier in the day. Usually they leave me tense and sometimes emotional depending on the conversational topics that are discussed. But I went to therapy for my anxiety, so each discussion was a simple reminder of all I had to worry about in my life. After my appointments, I liked to call Quinn or I would return home to rest with him for a few hours. But he had a practice that had been pushed to the middle of the day due to a bad snowstorm. By the time I got home, I assumed he was already on the ice and prepping with his team for the game this evening.

I had no lifeline but myself.. and my mind was never as helpful as it ought to be. I spent all day ruminating in my thoughts, going through the motions in a blur. The only thing to break my anxious trance had been Quinn calling to say he wouldn’t make it home before the game. I did get a bit irritated, but I tried not to let my frustrations out on him. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.

I spent my evening watching the game and eating a bowl of soup. The dark cloud of anxiety that loomed over me only thickened throughout the day, and I knew I was liable to dry heaving in the midst of anxiety or panic attacks. So I tried not to eat anything that would have been hard on my stomach.

The game was used as a distraction. And admittedly it had been a good one, until I got a text alert on my phone about a local kidnapping. They didn’t happen often, but the eerie text tone that accompanied it always made my stomach drop.

After that, I spiraled. I tried to watch the Canucks game, but my mind was hyper focused, and my senses were tuned in to every little thing in the apartment around me. The wind outside was whipping, another snowfall painting the once cleared roads with another coat of white. It was pitch black out, and pitch black in our apartment aside from the tv illuminating the living area.

A sense of dread washed over me, so heavy that I never noticed the game had been over. The Canucks had won, and it was the end of a horrible losing streak. My eyes shot toward the door when I heard the handle move, drawing in a sharp gasp as I scrambled off the couch, just in time for the door to open and a whole group of guys come barreling in. Led by my boyfriend, his hair slightly damp from a shower, dressed in the suit he’d left in around lunch.

“We won!” He sounded so happy, but my ears began ringing when everybody started shouting too, scattering about our apartment for who knows what.

“Quinn..” his name quivered off my lips, too quiet for him to hear across the room. Quinn immediately made his way over, snatching me up in a tight hug that made me feel like I was suffocating. “Quinn-“ I repeated his name in a choked out manner. As he pulled back, his smile remained. I tried to stop the shaking in my hands as I reached out to grab his arms.

“I’m gonna go out, okay?”

He promised he’d be back.

It’s past two am now, and I’m shaking in the corner of my apartment, pressed against the living room wall. I deemed it the best place to see everything in case somebody came in the door or out from behind a wall. In the bedroom I would have been cornered, same as the bathroom. The kitchen didn’t give me proper sight of the door, and the closet.. well that was just a dumb idea. My hands were resting on the floor. At first I found comfort in the chill from the wood tile, but at some point the chill was replaced by my body heat. My hands were clammy from sweat, and my heart was racing.

I felt like I was in the midst of some intense workout. My mind was racing, causing that dread to fall upon my shoulders again. The clouds of anxiety above my head had finally begun to rain. My thoughts were too heavy for them to hold any longer.

What if Quinn wasn’t okay? What if he was drunk and his friends left him alone? Oh god, what if somebody took him? What if somebody was coming to take me? I would have felt safer with Quinn around.. where was Quinn?

Heavy tears began to flow down my cheeks. I was shaking, but frozen in place. Emotional, and yet disconnected from my reality at the same time. Sounds and movements I’d once been hyper focused on, were now going unnoticed. My flight response had kicked in, but by that point, my mind had shut down too much to actually fly away. I was a mess of emotion on my living room floor. I was going to die.

The door opened for the second time that night, and I felt my heart drop. I began sobbing, shaking endlessly as that familiar turn in my stomach made me shoot off the floor. I was going to throw up. I didn’t notice Quinn sprinting across the room to grab me as I stood and collapsed directly into his arms.

“No!” I pushed against him violently, punching and flailing every limb to fight off my attacker.

Quinn held me tighter.

“Baby! Baby.. hey, everything’s okay!” Quinn could sense my distress, trying to keep my trembling body from losing its balance while he leaned his head in next to my ear.

When I heard his voice, the realization that I wasn’t being snatched up had dawned on me. I collapsed against his chest, my legs practically falling slack as I began to sob into Quinn’s body. My cries shook my own body, back rising and falling at a sporadic pace while Quinn tried to hold onto me and drag me to the couch.

“Baby..” he cooed, dropping carefully onto the couch. I fell into it with him, finding myself in his lap as he tried to situate me in a good spot. My cries never ceased, but they did quiet as Quinn stroked my back with one hand and ran the other through my hair.

“I’m right here..”

“I’m not headed anywhere.”

“This is just your anxiety,”

“You’re safe.”

“I’ll protect you.”

Quinn always knew. He never called my fears irrational or stupid, but in times when it was hard for me to differentiate normal concerns against anxious ones, he was always there to remind me. Always there to assure I wasn’t dying or having a heart attack, and that it was all my body’s response to something in my head.

“Quinn..” I whispered shakily against his chest, hearing him hum to acknowledge me.

“You’re okay, baby.” He slowly moved from beneath me, “I’ll be right back.” This caused another bit of dread to form in my gut.

“No,” I sobbed, my body leaning against the couch, helpless as I watched my boyfriend whisk away into the kitchen. He came back moments later with an ice pack and a bottle of water, which he placed on the coffee table.

“See? Im right here.” Quinn shrugged off his suit jacket, tucking a hand between my shoulder and the couch cushion to push me upright. He draped the jacket over my shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to my head as he did so.

The warmth of the jacket was the last thing I needed, but the scent shift from my perfume to his cologne helped calm me somewhat. The tears still flowed down my cheeks, but I felt I had a slightly better grip on my surroundings.

“Take a sip?” Quinn grabbed the water bottle and twisted the cap off, tossing it into the coffee table. He sat down and held the bottle out, though when I reached for it, my hand was still shaking. A quiet cry escaped my lips at the realization that I couldn’t do something as simple as holding a water bottle.

“No worries,” he spoke softly, assuring me it was fine as he set the bottle down on the table, exchanging it for the ice pack. “We’ll just try the ice pack for now.” He slowly moved in, resting his back against the couch and gesturing for me to lean into him. I did, scooting over next to Quinn and resting my back against his arm and half of his chest. One of my hands came down to grip the thigh closest to me.

“You’re my favorite girl in the whole wide world,” Quinn whispered as he wrapped an arm around me, carefully resting the ice pack on my leg. The sensation was distracting, as was the strategic statement about me being his favorite girl. I thought his mother was.

“What’s my hockey number?” I rested my head against Quinn’s shoulder as he spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Forty three..” my voice still quivered, but it sounded more firm than before. I had a grip on pieces of my reality now.

“That was an easy one,” he teased softly in response. “Whats my favorite pair of shoes?”

I had to roll my eyes at him. “Dumbass fuzzy slippers…” I spoke. That was our ‘matching ensemble’ one Christmas. Warm, fuzzy slippers. They didn’t count as shoes in my book, but he wore them all the time around the apartment or at the lake house.

Quinn managed a quiet chuckle, the movement of his chest and the sound of his deep laugh causing another wave of anxiety to settle.

“When did we say our first I Love You’s?” Quinn moved the ice pack to my shoulder. I let out a quiet sigh, then sniffled. I carefully reached up to rub the tears from my eyes as a sad smile formed on my lips.

“When we took Tyler’s son to the aquarium..” my grip on Quinn’s thigh eased.

“And what do you remember?”

“I remember you,” I paused for another sniffle. “You couldn’t get him to walk away from the puffer fish. You tried to pick him up, and he got a little mad.” A little was a vast understatement, and we both knew it, causing us to laugh softly together.

“You wanna know what I remember?” Quinn asked, and I nodded, slowly picking my head up and turning to look at him, draping my legs over his lap.

“I remember watching you take him down the little tunnel where you could stand in the turtle enclosure. And I remember watching you pick him up and hold him on your hip.. and thinking how much I love you. And how much you’re gonna make a great mother some day.”

My heart fluttered at Quinn’s words, but this type didn’t make me panicky or anxious. I smiled at him. Quinn carefully pulled the ice pack off my shoulder, tossing it onto the couch behind me.

“And I remember saying how much I love you when you guys got back.” Quinn reached to cup my cheek in his hand. “All of you. Every single part of you.” He smiled at the sight of my own.

I leaned in to press my forehead against his own, sighing softly.

“Thank you Quinn,” relief finally flooded my voice. He pulled back slowly, nodding.

“I’m always here for you. You’re my girl, I’ll take care of you no matter what.” Quinn rested a hand on one of my knees as he leaned forward to grab the once forgotten water bottle.

“Have you eaten?” He asked, holding the bottle out. This time I took it with a steady hand.

“I had soup.. but if you pop something in the oven I might snack on it.” I could tell by the smile forming on his lips, that he knew what I wanted. A warm pizza.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow.” Usually Quinn would suggest a nap after a panic attack, but if I didn’t eat before sleeping, I’d wake up with a headache. Another reason to be miserable.

“Put a pepperoni one in,” I spoke before taking a sip of water. Quinn rolled his eyes at me and laughed.

“Adventurous,” he teased, making me giggle softly. “Do you want to rest here, or come with me?” He slowly moved my legs from his lap.

“I’ll come with.” I sniffed again, slowly standing up with Quinn. He reached for my free hand, intertwining our fingers as we ventured into the kitchen. We spent a good few hours talking about the hockey game and other little topics over pizza. We never made it to the table though after it came out of the oven. We simply stood, leaning over the kitchen island side by side, giggling and whispering back and forth like teenagers. Only I could make Quinn act like a child, and only he could calm my wildest storms.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

[wonderland-smile-stories]

~ Chapter 1. 01 ~

I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes and how poorly written this fanfic is. English is not my first language and together with my dyslexia ass things can go wrong I'm sorry.

With a loud sigh, I open the door slowly hoping nobody would notice me. There were some voices in the living room and upstairs, but they seemed too busy to hear me entering.

Slipping off my shoes I held my stomach trying to ease the pain when I bent forwards. The beating from the previous night was still hurting as bad as when I received them. It also didn't help that I was pushed into the lockers about ten times today.

With slow steps, I began to make my way to the stairs. If I am lucky I can avoid everyone today and get a good night's sleep. My foot had just stepped on the first step of the stairs when I someone clear they were through. I close my eyes taking a deep breath.

"Mi-na. Where do you think you're going?" The sharp raspy voice spoke from behind me.

I turn around gripping tightly on the strap of my backpack that was hanging on my right shoulder.

"I was going to bed," I answered hoping she would be tired and just let it go.

While Taking a drag of her cigarette, her eyes scan me up and down before she blows out the smoke to speak. "Where have you been? It's eight a clock at night."

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I had a chance to speak she was already talking.

"Are you doing something behind my back again? I hope I won't get child services again at my door. I don't need to remind you what happened when they were gone." I swallow thickly grabbing my left arm while rubbing on the scars that were left to remind me.

"N....n..no. I....I was just."

"Just what huh? Speak up or you are spending your night in the shed."

The shed is a cold dark and nasty place. It's where you get sent if you so-called misbehave. You never know when you're allowed to get out or if even a day when by. It's just you in the darkness.

"I had to go to the pharmacy," I mumble looking down at my feet.

A scoff could be heard throughout the room before her shrill voice spoke again.

"Pharmacy? For what huh? Last time I checked you weren't sick."

I look up trying to steady my breath.

"M..my wou-"

"Stop mumbling! You know I hate when someone mumbles!" She yelled stepping closer to me.

"My wounds. They were getting infected. If I didn't threaten them it would get worse and had to go to the hospital. I thought it would be better to threaten them now before people would see it." I explain hoping she would just let me off by yelling at me.

For a few seconds, she looked at me before a stinging hit my cheek making my head turn to the side.

"Don't explain yourself as if you did something good! You wouldn't have those wounds in the first place if you hadn't disobeyed me!"

With heavy breaths, I look at her while holding my burning cheek.

"What money did you use to buy that shit." She asked calmly, too calmly.

"The money I got from my job," I mutter out.

Before I could brace myself she grabbed my hair pulling me closer to her.

"You stole from me?! You know that that money belongs to me!" Her face was so closed that I was getting dizzy from the smell of cigarettes coming from her mouth.

"I'm s..so....ry!" I cry out holding my hair where she was pulling on.

"Sorry? Sorry?! What the fuck does your 'sorry' do me?! Huh?" With every word her grip tightened on my hair, making tears appear in my eyes.

"I give you a place to live and this is how you repay me! Stealing and lying!"

With big force, she pulled me to the ground landing hard on my already bruised knees.

"It's like you're asking to get punished!"

Without any warning, she slammed her foot on my left hand. A loud cry escaped my mouth, but I quickly shut it hoping nobody else would hear it. I don't want the others to come down and help her.

"I....I'm sorry I'll pay it ba.." My voice was interrupted when she twisted her shoe on my hand while putting more pressure on it.

"Without a doubt! I don't care how you do it, I just want my fucking money!" With one last twist, she steps off my hand.

I cradle it against my chest feeling how it was throbbing from the pain. I swear I could feel something broken in it when I ran my finger over it.

"Get out of my eyes before I put you in the shed!" I nodded my head quickly standing up.

I watch as she walks back to the living room making sure she is completely gone before going upstairs. With the back of my other hand, I wipe the tears that had escaped my eyes.

Every day is the same.

Even if I do everything she wants she still finds a way to punish me.

With a deep sigh, I enter my room closing the door behind me. At least I didn't see the other kids. They love to watch or even help with her. Even in school, I can't escape. They just continue what they started at home there.

Walking to my bed I turn on the bedside lamp making it less dark in my room. It wasn't big and there wasn't much in it, but at least I was alone. I put my bag to the side before taking off my hoodie and shirt underneath it. I had just pulled my jeans down when I heard a crack in the floor behind me.

Quickly I turned around and came face to face with Drew. There was a cocky smirk on his face while looking me up and down. Quickly I grabbed my hoodie and threw it over my head hoping it would cover most of my body.

"Don't stop because of me. There is nothing I haven't seen before." I bite the inside of my cheek shaking my head at him.

"What are doing in my room, Drew? It has already been a long day and I really want to go to bed."

A part of me knew why he was here. While the other part hoped he was just here to annoy me. But seeing that it was late at night only one thing came to my mind. I have told myself that I won't let him do this to me anymore. That I would fight harder until he was annoyed and just left me alone.

A chuckle left his lips before taking a step toward me. As I said it was a small room, and it didn't take him much to reach me.

"Just wanted to say hey. Besides I heard that you were in trouble again with Ms. Ward. You just can't help yourself, don't you, love?" He reaches out moving a strain of hair out of my face.

The moment his fingertips grazed my cheek I could feel a chill run up my spine.

"Don't touch me," I mutter out moving my face from his hands.

"Just get out of my room. Haven't you done enough today?" I breathe out tiredly.

With both his hands he grabbed my face pulling me completely against his body.

"What the?! I said le.." Before I could finish he had crashed his lips on mine.

I had to process for a second what was happening before I began to struggle to get away from him. I felt him bite my lip, but I firmly held my two lips together denying entrance. With one strong shove, I push him away from me taking a deep breath immediately afterward.

"What's wrong with you!?" I cough out wiping my lips.

"Can't you go to one of your side chicks? Why do you want me?!" I whispered trying not to let the others know what was happening here.

A laugh came out of his mouth before he moved back in front of me. I took a few steps back but was quickly met with the bed behind me. Almost falling backward on it.

"Nobody is like you, love. You're just so different than the others."

I shook my head.

"Just go," I whisper hoping he would listen to me.

The same annoying chuckle left his mouth before he gave me a shove. Quickly I fell backward on my bed hitting my head hard on the wall.

For a second I think had passed out, but was quickly back to the present, well half the present.

My sight was hazy and blurry like they had put a filter over my eyes. When I tried to move my head the room seemed to spin around me, making me close my eyes tightly trying not to get dizzy. Without noticing I fell back in the dark, but not before I felt a presence beside me.

I felt someone grabbing my legs and putting them on the bed slowly I opened my eyes and saw someone sitting on the bed beside me slowly rubbing my bare leg. Goosebumps ran through my body making me want to pull away, but it was like my body wasn't listening. There was a voice, but it was muffled like I was in the water.

I think I passed out again because the next time I woke up I could feel coldness over my whole body. Slowly I looked down and saw that my hoodie was gone. I wanted to panic and run away, but everything was still blurry around me. A dark figure hovered above me before a hand touched my cheek and some words came out of its mouth that I couldn't understand.

When I woke up again I could feel something sitting between my legs. Still, with blurry vision, I looked down and saw what I thought was Drew. I watched as he moved his hands from my leg to my stomach stopping just underneath my bra. I shook my head and I could hear myself say a weak 'no', but that didn't stop him one bit.

I felt him put his two hands beside my face before leaning down and whispering.

"Don't worry love, I'll let you enjoy it too." before kissing my earlobe up until my cheek before crashing his lips on me. I tried to move away, squirming away from his touch and trying to push him away, but he didn't budge with my weak attempt.

Suddenly I felt myself sinking deeper into my mattress, before being fully in it and the touch of Drew faded away. The material of the mattress disappeared underneath my back and before I knew it I began to fall. My body felt like I was a doll that was tossed to the side of the room when a child was done playing with it.

Nothing worked not even my own voice.

I was ready to hit the ground and welcome the darkness of death, but when my back finally met the ground I only felt pain shoot through my body.

For a few seconds, I just lay there thinking I would probably pass out, but then I began to notice something.

It was so silent.

All the noise from the people in the house, Drew, or even the noises from outside my room was completely gone. I felt my fingers twitch from beside me slowly feeling the ground around me. I only felt cold concrete. Finally, I could open my eyes and was met with a dark room.

Is this the afterlife?

Am I in hell for all the shitty things I had done in life? The cold on my body was completely gone which made me look down. Somehow my clothes were back on. Maybe I am really dead.

"Don't worry you're still alive. For now." A voice spoke from somewhere in the dark and followed with a dark snickering.

I quickly sat up noticing that my wounds and pain were gone.

"You know you can still accept me. It's never too late to be the thing always wanted to be." The voice was so familiar to me, but I could place a face with it.

I began to turn around trying to see where the person was, but there was nothing. When a laugh came from behind I turned around ready to run towards it when the ground underneath my feet crumbled away. With a yelp, I managed to grab onto the side of the hole.

I pulled my head above the edge leaning on my arms underneath my chin. Being hopeful that I could pull myself up a cry left my lips when something grabbed my leg pulling me down. Soon others follow making me almost lose my grip.

While struggling to get free of the hands I heard a laugh in front of me. Looking up I could see a person coming from out of the shadows. My eyes widened when I saw that they looked exactly like me. The only things that were different and stood out were the black eyes and the sinister smile.

"You know, I can help you if you want to."

My nails were digging into the ground trying to get a grip on something to hold me up, but I kept slipping away. Everything inside of me was screaming not to trust her. She squad down in front of me looking down at me with those abysses of eyes and a smile.

"Don't you want to be strong?" She mockingly said with a chuckle at the end.

By now I was holding on to the edge with just my fingers.

"Come take my hand. I'll help you." A part of me wanted to let go so that I would be away from her, but the other part wanted to reach out.

It was the part that was tired of fighting to survive.

I have been fighting my whole life, maybe this is a gift for everything that has happened.

With a shaky hand, I began to reach out toward the other me, but before I could brush my fingertips against hers a hand reached my shoulders yanking forcefully so that I let go of the edge.

For the second time, I was falling, but now everything was dark around me. I yelled loudly while the hands were still holding me, their grip getting harder and harder. One reached my throat and I could feel it begin to squeeze cutting off the air that was going into my body.

A loud banging began to sound around me getting louder and louder while the light from the hole got smaller and smaller.

Next chapter

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The first chapter is out! I haven’t figured out what the update schedule will be. It won’t be every day that’s something I’m sure about. I hope you like it. See you in the next chapter!

[south-of-heaven]

Judgement Day x reader where their daughter has been waking up at night a lot, but reader thinks the others shouldn't have to wake up, so she does it herself and feels exhausted. The others find out and assure her they want to help because this baby has 5 parents, not one

Lost sleep || The Judgement Day x Reader

Summary: Every time your daughter wakes up at night, you're the one who takes care of it, simply because you don't want your partners to lose any sleep over it. They remind you that you're not alone.

It had been a rough week, to say the least. Your precious daughter, the apple of your eye, had been having a difficult time sleeping. She'd wake up multiple times throughout the night, fussing and crying, leaving you exhausted from lack of sleep.

You had made it a point to get up each time she cried, not wanting your partners to lose sleep over it. They all had busy schedules, and it seemed like the least you could do. But as the nights passed and your sleep deprivation grew, it was becoming harder and harder to keep up with her demands.

One particularly sleepless morning, you dragged yourself out of bed, your body heavy with fatigue. Rhea, Damian, Finn, and Dominik were all still asleep, blissfully unaware of your nightly struggles.

As you prepared a bottle for your daughter, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. You loved her more than anything, but the sleepless nights were taking a toll on you.

Later that day, you couldn't hide the bags under your eyes and your overall exhaustion. Your partners noticed, their concern evident. Rhea was the first to gently confront you.

"Hey, love," she said softly, pulling you aside while the others were busy. "I've noticed you've been looking really tired lately. Is everything okay?"

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to burden her with your struggles. But then you sighed, realizing you couldn't keep this to yourself any longer. "It's just... our daughter has been waking up so many times during the night, and I didn't want you all to lose sleep, so I've been taking care of her myself."

Rhea's expression softened as she listened, and she pulled you into a comforting embrace. "You don't have to do this alone, you know. We're all here for you, and we're her parents too. You can ask for help."

Later, Damian and Finn echoed similar sentiments, letting you know that you were never alone in this. They assured you that they wanted to share the responsibilities and the joys of parenting equally.

Finally, Dominik found you sitting quietly in the nursery, your daughter sleeping soundly in your arms. He approached you with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with love and understanding.

"You're an incredible parent," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you don't have to carry this alone. We're a team, remember?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion and stress finally lifting from your shoulders. You realized that you had an incredible support system right in front of you, and together, you could handle anything.

From that day forward, you all took turns caring for your daughter during the night. The burden was lightened, and the bond between you and your partners grew even stronger. Parenthood had its challenges, but with love and teamwork, you knew you could conquer them all.

[talonabraxas]

I trow I hung on that windy Tree nine whole days and nights, stabbed with a spear, offered to Odin, myself to mine own self given, high on that Tree of which none hath heard from what roots it rises to heaven. — Hávamál (Line 137)

The Wild Hunt of Odin Talon Abraxas

The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, one of the earliest and foremost histories of the Anglo-Saxons, who were descended from the same Germanic tribes as the Norse and broadly shared the same body of religious lore, records the following event as having happened in CE 1127:

Let no one be surprised at what we are about to relate, for it was common gossip up and down the countryside that after February 6th many people both saw and heard a whole pack of huntsmen in full cry. They straddled black horses and black bucks while their hounds were pitch black with staring hideous eyes. This was seen in the very deer park of Peterborough town, and in all the woods stretching from that same spot as far as Stamford. All through the night monks heard them sounding and winding their horns. Reliable witnesses who kept watch in the night declared that there might well have been twenty or even thirty of them in this wild tantivy as near as they could tell.

This spectral, nocturnal horde was the “Wild Hunt,” which was recorded in folklore all throughout ancient, medieval, and even early modern Europe, but was especially concentrated in the Germanic lands of northern Europe. In Scandinavia, it was called Oskoreia, “Terrifying Ride,”[2] or Odensjakt, “Odin’s Hunt.” In Middle High German, it was called Wuotanes Her, “Odin’s Army,” and in modern German Wütende Heer, “Furious/Inspired Army,” or Wilde Jagd, “Wild Hunt.”

It swept through the forests in midwinter, the coldest, darkest part of the year, when ferocious winds and storms howled over the land. Anyone who found him- or herself out of doors at night during this time might spot this ghostly procession – or be spotted by it, which might involve being carried away and dropped miles from where the unfortunate person had been taken up, or worse.[6] Others, practitioners of various forms of magic, joined in it voluntarily, as an intangible part of them (a “soul,” if you like) flew with the cavalcade while their bodies lay in their beds as if sleeping normally. Sometimes, the members of the Hunt entered towns and houses, causing havoc and stealing food and drink.

The Leader of the Wild Hunt

When accounts of the Wild Hunt mention a leader, the figure who filled this role varied greatly. In Germany, the leader could have been “Perchta, Berhta, Berta, Holt, Holle, Hulda, Foste, Selga, Selda, Heme, Herla, Berchtold [or] Berhtolt.”

However, as the Wild Hunt’s various names across the Germanic lands attest, one figure was especially closely associated with it: Odin, the god of the dead, inspiration, ecstatic trance, battle frenzy, knowledge, the ruling class, and creative and intellectual pursuits in general. Two of Odin’s hundreds of names further demonstrate his association with midwinter, the time of the year in which the holiday Yule (Old Norse Jól) falls: Jólnir and Jauloherra, both of which mean something like “Master of Yule.” The myths describe him frequently riding throughout the Nine Worlds on his eight-legged steed, Sleipnir, on quests of a shamanic nature, another theme that connects him to the Wild Hunt. As H.R. Ellis Davidson put it, speaking of the manifestations of the Wild Hunt that continued well into the Christian era, “it was natural that the ancient god of the dead who rode through the air should keep a place in this way in the memory of the people, and it reminds us of the terror which his name must once have inspired.”

Conclusion

In the body of lore surrounding the Wild Hunt, we find a number of themes that connect it powerfully with the dead and the underworld. For one thing, there’s the ghostly character of the hunters or warriors themselves. Dogs and horses, animals that were closely associated with death (amongst a great many other things), were almost invariably present. In some accounts of the Hunt, the riders can hardly, if at all, be distinguished from land spirits, who were themselves often conflated with the dead, as if the two were thought of as being in some sense one and the same. Finally, for the ancient Germanic peoples, the worlds of the living and the dead were especially permeable during midwinter, which goes a long way toward explaining why this troop of apparitions haunted the land during that particular part of the year. In the words of Claude Lecouteux, “[T]he Wild Hunt fell into the vast complex of ancestor worship, the cult of the dead, who are the go-betweens between men and the gods.”

It was as if the very elements of midwinter – the menacing cold, the almost unrelenting darkness, the eerie, desolate silence broken only by the baying winds and galloping storms – manifested the restless dead, and the ancient northern Europeans, whose ways of life and worldviews predisposed them to sense spiritual qualities in the world around them, recorded the sometimes terrifying fruits of such an engagement with the enchanted world in their accounts of the Wild Hunt.

[humblequestvinyl]

fix you too

FIX YOU TOO, FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!READER

APART OF THE ‘ANOTHER ON THE WAY’ SERIES

SUMMARY: after the 73rd hunger games, y/n is not only left to pick up the pieces of herself, but her family as well after the death of her younger sister, and telling the boy she loved that she couldn’t fix him too.

◀ ⏸ ▶

lowercase is intentional! wc: 0.8k

inspired by fix you too, by megan moroney

warning: mentions of the games (slightly!) victor reader, swearing, death, slight mention of past trauma, alcohol, & angst!

a/n: not sure how well this is as i wrote it at three am but i am a sucker for finnick odair, and the line about “tell those green eyes no.” REMINDS ME OF HIM! so here we are :) 

“I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO FIX YOU TOO.” y/n l/n stood in front of the boy she loved, someone she had mentored with for years now, graveling with the fact she had to take care of herself now.

“i cannot keep doing this finnick.”her voice was soft, but the tears were evident in her e/c eyes. the losses she had just gone through, and trying to pick up the pieces of not only herself, but the rest of her family now.

it was right after the 73rd hunger games, and were on the train ride back from the capital when this conversation sparked. it was the loss of y/n’s younger sister, a tribute she tried to mentor the best she could that caused all of this to unravel.

“the next few months i am going to pick up the pieces of not only myself, but my younger sister and our mom.”y/n lip quivered as tears threatened to spill, “i am not in the place for a relationship finnick. not even close to one.”

“you don’t have to do this alone.”finnick spoke, but the victor was in complete denial, “i can help you with everything. this shouldn’t be all on you.”

“but it is!”a sob broke through the girls lips as she covered her mouth, careful not to wake anyone else on the night train, “it’s my family finnick, this is something i have to do.”

taking a deep breath, the h/c girl stood up, suppressing the tears that kept rising as she tried to keep the emotions under control. as she walked over towards the alcohol cart, she quickly picked out the whiskey, with a flash of haymitch abernathy mentioning how ‘alcohol fixed everything’

“you and i both know there’s a lot of things we haven’t processed about our games fin,”y/n started, with his green eyes meeting hers, “and with all this happening, i don’t want to have to fix you too.”

“you won’t-”y/n cut off the boy by shaking her head, “i’m the glue that tries to fix everything that’s broken.”

“maybe when i get my shit together, when everything’s calmed down and i’ve worked through seeing my sister die, we can talk about being something.”y/n’s voice was calm, but her words were laced with grief, something she was currently blinded by, “you also need work finnick to tell you the truth.”

“if you had asked me this when i was younger, i know that i couldn’t tell you no because of those green eyes.”y/n explained, and finnick observed the dark circles under the girls eyes, representing the lack of sleep she had since the games started.

“but i need to fix myself before i even attempt anything else.”the girl whispered, before taking another sip of her drink, and heading in towards the room she was assigned on the train.

the room was exactly how she felt. dark, depressing and flat out sad. the tv was off because all she would see is her sister dying, and she couldn’t bear to turn on the lights.

so there y/n would lay on the bed, staring into the wall, wondering where she went wrong. could there have been more sponsors y/n could’ve gotten for the girl? more tips or training she could’ve done to have her sister on that train with her?

every single scenario played throughout her head, and it wasn’t until she felt a pair of lips on the top of her head that broke her out of her thoughts.

her head didn’t turn, knowing exactly who it was, and there was no changing her mind.

finnick knew that. he knew that y/n was one of the most stubborn people he had ever met, and if she had her mind set on something, there was no point in trying to change it. it would be an endless cycle of arguing, and no progress would be made.

“whenever you need me, you know where to find me most nights.”finnick spoke softly, but he knew his message was getting to the girl by the way she curled into the blankets, “even if you call in the middle of the night sunshine, i’ll be there.”

“i’ll be there for you.”