Tumgik
#I get two weeks off and this is how I spend it ha
catcze · 3 days
Text
Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol
Tumblr media
By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.
It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.
Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.
What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.
I miss you. I really, really miss you.
Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.
"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"
"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.
As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.
"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"
"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."
And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.
But he can't and it's killing him.
"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.
"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."
You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"
"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.
But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.
"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."
He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.
"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."
"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."
Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.
That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.
Tumblr media
335 notes · View notes
baby-yongbok · 14 hours
Text
Ex : Part II
Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
⇝ Genre: Angst then Smut then angst again. Dirty Drama.
⇝ Summary: There's only one thing on your mind after 'welcoming' Hyunjin back into your life.
⇝ Warnings: Themes of Cheating, Arguing, Oral sex, Hyunjin is toxic - the manipulative type - and he seriously thinks he did nothing wrong. (I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!)
⇝ Word Count: 3.2k
⇝ A/N: SO MANY of you wanted a part 2 to this so I tried my best + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ I hope that you enjoy the drama! 💕
✧ Part One ✧ Masterlist ✧
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It took you a week. A week of crying and screaming, a week of avoiding your friends, a week of him ignoring your calls for you to realize that Hyunjin has you fucked up if he thinks that you’re going to let him get away with what he put you through. At first you just wanted to talk to him, you thought that maybe you could convince him to cut Yara off. You thought that you could change him - how cliche. You called him for three days and when you got sick of getting his voicemail you called his best friend, Jeongin. He was surprised to hear from you but he was even more surprised when you told him everything that happened. 
“Are you fucking serious?” For the first time since Hyunjin left you crying on your bedroom floor you let it all out. You told Jeongin every dirty detail of the encounter. You cried and he was there for you, he did what Hyunjin hasn’t done for months. “Is there anything that I can do? Anything you need?” 
The line fell silent as you processed his question. Your brain is telling you one thing while your heart is telling you another. You sigh as the two battle for dominance over what comes out of your mouth next. You’ve let your heart make all of the moves for the past three days. You’ve cried and you’ve screamed all in favor of lifting the crushing pain off of your chest for an hour or two. Now it’s your brain's turn to decide and it only wants one thing. 
“Ya know there is something that you can help me with.” Your heart pleads for you to choose something less drastic, less dramatic but your brain yells for it to shut up. Why should we let Hyunjin have all the fun? “Anything, you name it.”
“Revenge.”
Hyunjin came to your place four days after you spoke to Jeongin. He had cherry red roses in his hand and an apology plastered on his face. His eyes were pleading with you before he could even open his mouth but to his surprise you hugged him. You held him tight and smiled, taking the flowers and making a home for them in your favorite vase. He was stunned to say the least but he didn’t comment. He needed you. His ex did exactly what you knew she would, she took all that she wanted from him and the second that she started to get attention from somewhere else she acted like he didn’t exist. 
He tried to be the boyfriend that you’ve been wanting him to be over the next couple of weeks but he couldn’t seem to get a hold of you. Each and every time that he’d plan a date or show up to surprise you, you were already out or you were leaving to meet with your friends. You barely answered his texts and he’s more than positive that you’ve been sending him to voicemail for the past week. It’s been a month of him putting up with you blowing him off and he’s sick of it.
He decided to show up at your place two hours before your plans to talk to you, maybe he can get you to stay home and spend some time with him tonight. He misses you more than you could even imagine and he thought that you’ve been missing him too. Shouldn’t you be dying to spend time with him? 
His face drops when he gets to your front door and his key doesn’t fit into the lock, did you change it? He rings the bell, tapping his foot anxiously as he waits for you to open the door. His eyes meet yours when it swings open and you smile at him, welcoming him in. 
“My key didn’t work.” He comments as he kicks his shoes off.
“Really? That’s odd.” You shrug as you make your way to your bathroom. “I’m gonna shower.” You call to him as the bathroom door closes behind you. The click of the lock draws a sigh from Hyunjin. Not even a kiss or a hug? Just a friendly hello like you’re not even dating. He drags himself to your bedroom and throws himself on your perfectly made bed. His thoughts project onto the ceiling as he stares at it. He feels like he’s going crazy, why are you acting so weird? No affection, barely talking, barely hanging out and you’re always on… Oh no. He sits up quickly, his eyes dart around the room until it finally lands on what he’s looking for on your bedside table.
Your Phone.
He glances over at your bedroom door before grabbing it. The screen lights up and a picture of you and your friends presents itself to him. That’s funny, wasn’t your wallpaper that picture of you two from when you went to the aquarium for your second date. You always said that that was your favorite picture. When did you change it?
He glances towards the door again and swipes your screen, his brain is busy thinking of possible password combinations but there is no password. His brows pinch together in confusion, you always have a pin on your phone. He decides to worry about that later and quickly starts searching all of your apps. He goes from your instagram to your snapchat but there’s nothing. Just a bunch of reels being sent between you and Jeongin, the last person you sent a picture to on snapchat was also Jeongin. How can his best friend have time to talk to you but he doesn’t have time to text him back? He’s called him an unimaginable amount of times over the past month but he hasn’t heard a single thing back. His finger hovers over your text messages for a second too long. What if he doesn’t like what he finds? What if you’re cheating on him? How could he handle a betrayal like that? With one more quick glance towards the door he taps the app and it opens up to a conversation. Hyunjin’s heart drops when he reads the name at the top. 
“What?” An incredulous sigh escapes him as he starts scrolling to the top of the conversation. Pet names are being thrown left and right, plans are being made every single day and there are back to back facetime calls in the dark hours of the night. 
Hyunjin’s heart is pounding in his ears and his fingers are moving so fast that he didn’t even realize that he went into your shared media. He freezes and his heart drops to his ass as he takes it all in. Nudes, videos, everything that he could imagine, all of you and his best friend. All of you and Jeongin. He opens a video and his mouth goes dry at the lewd sounds that fill the room. He’s fucking you from behind with a fist full of your hair to keep your head up. You’re drooling and moaning and Jeongin is smiling, he’s fucking smiling at the camera. His shirt - wait a minute - that’s not his. Hyunjin’s eyes go wide as he studies the fabric, his best friend is wearing his clothes while he fucks his girlfriend? Unbelievable, this can’t be real.
He quickly exits the video and scrolls through your pictures. You and Jeongin in the car, in your bedroom, your living, you on your knees and him on his. Hyunjin doesn’t even bother to look at the door to make sure you aren’t coming. He can’t hear anything but the thoughts racing through his head. His finger slips and another video opens. The sound of skin against skin echoes through his ears as the video plays. Jeongin is shirtless, fucking you in front of your bathroom mirror. Actually, he’s naked, did you two shower together? Hyunjin balls a fist in the blanket under him as he watches the video.
“Say it again, baby, say it to the camera.” A broken moan escapes you as you try to follow Jeongin’s order. “Y-you’re so much better than him, fuck me so good, Innie.” Hyunjin swears that his heart broke at the sound of you. Why would you say that? You don’t mean it do you? What did he do to deserve this?
He pauses the video and drops your phone against the mattress, your texts stare back at him and he can’t help but to scroll. “That’s not yours.” He jumps at the sound of your voice and you laugh. You wander over to lazily flip through your closet with a towel wrapped around your hair and your rob loosely tied around your body.
“What the fuck is all of this?” His voice is small, much smaller than he meant for it to be but you can hear the heartbreak laced in it. You almost feel bad for him. But that’s your heart speaking, she’s not in control right now. “You’re fucking Jeongin?”
You pick out a dress and move to your mirror, you tilt your head as you hold it against your body. “Think this is too much for a dinner date?” Hyunjin scoffs, moving to stand from your bed.
“Answer me, tell me that everything that I just found is fake. Tell me that you didn’t betray me.” He has some nerve talking about betrayal. You face him, staring back at him with faux sympathy. “I was lonely when you left, what was I supposed to do?” 
“Wait for me to get back.” You turn your attention back to your closet but he calls your name before you can pick out another dress. “You haven’t been going out with your friends have you? You’ve been with him. What in your right mind possessed you to fuck my best friend?”
“Do you really care, Hyunjin? Do you really want me to tell you? Cause I’ll tell you everything but that’s not what you want to hear, is it?” He watches as you slowly step towards him, like a vixen with her eyes set on a prize. “You wanna hear me say that I love you. You want me to say that I’ll stop seeing him because I need you.” 
He’s stuck in place as he watches you, heavy breaths passing his parted lips as you read him like a book. That’s exactly what he wants, he wants you, that’s all he’s wanted for the past month. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.” His voice is a mere whisper once you reach him, like he’d scare you away if he talks too loudly. “That’s what I want.” He shudders when you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. 
“Are you touch starved, baby?” His soft gaze pours into yours but he doesn’t recognize the look in your eyes. It’s not what he wants but he’ll gladly take it. At least you’re looking at him. “Didn’t your ex touch you while you were away?”
His heart sinks and a smile creeps onto your lips. “She - she did but -” You tsk, cutting him off before he could stumble over his words further. 
“She didn’t make you feel like I do, did she?” He shakes his head, guilty eyes staring back into yours as you reach down to palm him over his sweats. “Is that why you’re back? She didn’t take care of my Hyune?”
“She’s not you.” His breath is heavy and his eyes roll back as he answers with a thick groan. You run your fingers over him with expert precision. You’ve always known what to do to get him going. “I want you, not her. Always you.”
“Untie my robe.” You whisper and he quickly obeys, fumbling with the loose knot until the fuzzy fabric falls open and reveals your naked body to him. “Wanna show me how much you want me?” He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss but you dodge him before he can. A disapproving whimper escapes him and you puff out your lip in a fake pout. 
“Gotta be patient, my baby. Can you do that?” He nods, whimpering out a pathetic ‘yes’. His eyes follow your frame as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your eyes wander from his down to the floor in front of you and back up again. He quickly follows your unspoken instruction, falling to his knees in front of you and drooling when you part your legs before him. “Show me.”
Hyunjin latches onto your core like a desperate puppy. His tongue wastes no time exploring every inch of you that he’s missed. Hums and moans vibrate through him as he tastes you and you match each sound with your head thrown back and your fingers laced in his hair. At least he remembers how to eat your pussy the way that you like it, though you must admit that you’ve gotten used to Jeongin’s mouth on you. 
Your bed creaks as his hips buck against it in a desperate attempt to feel half as good as you do. “Fuck, come on, Hyune. Don’t tell me your best friend eats my pussy better than you.” He groans in protest, hooking his arms around your thighs to keep you open while he works against you. You gasp in pleasure, so he’s competitive? He swirls his tongue in imaginary patterns, sliding it between your folds as he takes turns sucking on your clit and fucking your pulsing hole. His hips grind restlessly against the edge of your mattress and desperate grunts fill the air once they vibrate through your core. 
“You missed me didn’t you?” You pull him back with your fist in his hair, his swollen lips glisten in the low lamp light and his eyes are glazed with fuckout desperation. “Yeah, missed you.”  He’s too deep into the brain fog to hear just how pathetic he sounds but you’re more than happy to take it all in for him. A strangled moan escapes you as Hyunjin's tongue explores deeper. You grip his hair tighter as he laps up your juices, and you arch your back to meet him. 
His thrusts against your mattress become more desperate as laps at you, The mess of your drooling cunt makes a mess all over his chin as he works desperately to get you to the edge but that’s not the part that gets you close. It’s the thought of him hoping and praying that hi tongue is fucking you better than Jeongin ever did and as you get closer to coming undone you find yourself clenching at the thought that his best friend does it better. “Shit, Jeongin, I’m gonna cum.” 
 Your orgasm rips through you with a loud moan and your body shudders in pleasure. You hold Hyunjin's head in place against your core as his tongue continues to work diligently in an attempt to help you ride out your orgasm. Once you’ve come down from your high he pulls back slowly, a single string of spit still connecting him to your cunt.
“What did you call me?” He mumbles, not even bothering to wipe his mouth clean. You stare down at him with not an ounce of care in your eyes. 
“Don’t remember.” You pull your robe closed and slide from in front of him to pull yourself up to your feet. “And I don’t care.” Hyunjin’s heart dissolves as he watches you shrug and wander back over to your closet.
“What are you doing?” He mumbles and you scoff.
“Will you stop with the pitiful tone?” He scrambles up from his knees quickly, a surge of anger running through him. 
“Come on.” He stalks over and wraps his arms around you, leaning in to kiss your neck but you push him away before he can. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“I have a date to get ready for.” You flip through your clothes and it’s only now that he notices the empty space in your closet. “Where are my clothes?” 
“I told you to take all of your shit last month.” You shrug, pulling out a dress and holding it against your body in the mirror. “You didn’t take it so I gave most of it to Jeongin. Thought about burning the rest but I donated it instead.”
He watches you silently, jaw hung slack in a frozen state of disbelief. “Are there fucking cameras in here?” He looks around, half desperate for that to be the case. “Is this a joke?”
“The only joke here is you. Did you think that you could come back here and I’d act like nothing happened?” A venomous laugh erupts from your chest. “Be fucking forreal.”
“But we just fucked, I just ate you out why would you let that happen if you’re still going to see Jeongin?” 
“You got a phone call last time. You owe me, remember?” Hyunjin can’t decide if he should be livid or desperate. He wants to yell and curse you out for being so ridiculous but at the same time he wants to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He had hoped that you understood what happened a month ago. He thought that he could count on you to see that he only did what he had to do. Yeah he cheated but if you really loved him you could move past that. 
“You’re excused. I need to get ready.” You push past him, bumping your shoulder with his but he grabs you by the waist before you can get too far, pulling you against his chest. “Don’t be like that, angel.”
 His hands run smoothly up your side, taking in every curve of you. “I know I upset you but you can’t act like you don’t want me. What happened to you forgiving me?”
His lips brush over yours slowly as he whispers. “I want you so badly, I wanna be with you tonight. Stay here with me.” You smile against him as the towel containing your hair slips off of your head and your damp curls curtain around the two of you. You run your hands up his chest, taking in each and every toned dip before you whisper back. “Get out.” You peck his lips and push him away from you with a smile.
“You’re making a mistake.” He pleads with wide eyes blown with anguish. “He doesn’t make you feel like I do, you know that.” Your ringtone bounces off of the walls before you get a chance to answer him. You reach across your mattress and smile when you see Jeongin’s name.
“You’re right.” You shrug, swiping to answer the call. “He makes me feel so much better.” Hyunjin’s jaw clenches as you press the phone to your ear with a smile. You greet his best friend with a sweet tone that used to be exclusively for him. Hyunjin is practically invisible to you as you buzz around your room grabbing accessories and planning your outfit. It isn’t until he grabs your wrist on your way to your vanity that you look at him again.
“Please don’t do this.” Jeongin’s voice is heard from the receiver before you can answer the man in front of you.
“Who’s that, baby?” He asks, and you smile as Hyunjin deflates.
 “No one.” You shrug off Hyunjin’s hold and he deflates as you passively wave him away. “That’s no one.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tag List: @dessianna1, @foxytoxxic, @snxfall (If you asked to be tagged and you weren't it's because you did not have your age in your bio. You MUST have your age in your bio to be tagged )
170 notes · View notes
jadeylovesmarvelxo · 15 hours
Text
Ok, I have two alternatives, pick which one you like the best.
Reader get picked to tutor Eddie even though they have always been at each other's throat, she thinking he's a drama queen, pissed that the popular people doesn't like him and he thinks she's a stuck up bitch without humor.
So they go back and forth but maybe one day when she's having a bad day and Eddie says something and she starts crying he gets all "what, how, why? What did I do, please don't cry!"
Or, that he catches her reading a romance novel and outwardly she has always just read classics - books that are 'high education'
Request by @somethingvicked 🫶💞 went with the first option 💞
Warnings; Little bit of angst, meanish Eddie, fluff. Accidental kiss.
💌🎀💌🎀
"You've got to be kidding me?" you gawk at Miss O'Donnell who has called you back at the end of class. She's asked you to tutor someone and at first you were all for it.
That's until you found out it was Eddie Munson, Munson who is currently sitting at the back of the class with his feet up on the desk in front of him, he gives you a sarcastic little wave and you turn back to Miss O'Donnell and hope she comes to her senses.
"He needs a tutor if he wants to graduate. You're the best student in the class. It will look wonderful on your college applications that you tutored Mr Munson" shit there was really no getting out of this.
Reluctantly you turn to Eddie who already doesn't like you. In his honest opinion you seemed prissy and stuck up. The two of you spent half your time at each other's throats, it had been like that for so long.
Equally you couldn't stand Eddie either. He was loud, a show off and you were sure he was jealous of the popular people he claimed to hate.
How you would manage to tutor him for weeks on end was anyone's guess. One thing's for sure, you were dreading this.
"Meet me after school tomorrow and we can get started okay?" You say to him already grumpy at having to spend extra time with him. Eddie swings his legs off the desk and smirks, then bows.
"As you wish princess" ugh, you storm out but not before hearing Eddie's laughter.
Asshole.
🎀💌🎀💌
The first week of tutoring Eddie is as horrible as you expected. He's antagonistic, makes no effort and needles at your patience until it's paper thin.
"How can you be expected to graduate if you don't make an effort?" You snap as Eddie strums on his guitar.
"That old bat has it in for me, even when I try my best she still doesn't care" Eddie hisses back and you feel the beginnings of a headache come on.
"You just need to apply yourself better, if you want to graduate then you need to ace this Munson" he glares at you.
"Don't you think I know that? It's easy for you though isn't it princess, since your little miss perfect" the insult flares up your annoyance and you and Eddie devolve into your usual arguments.
"Don't you think I have better things to do then tutor you Munson? So do us both a favour and start paying attention, so we can go our separate ways sooner".
He huffs and places down his guitar with gentle care, grabs his notebook and
"Did you draw these?" you ask curious as you trace your fingers over the images on his notebook. He nods and looks at you like he's expecting you to give him shit.
"They are really good Munson, you could think about applying to an art course after graduation" Eddie scoffs and takes his notebook back.
"Yeah like anyone's going to take me with my grades" his tone is all annoyance and it pisses you off.
"I was only trying to compliment you, why do you have to be so touchy all the time" you look away from him stubbornly, he is silent for a few seconds and when he speaks again his voice is soft.
"I'm sorry, I'm not used to a lot of compliments from people" this softens you as well and you turn to face him and give him a small smile.
"Well you're really good" there's a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks when you say this. He nods and settles back down beside you.
"You know uh, you're pretty good with the whole writing thing, uh shit, you know what I mean" pleased and a little flustered at his compliment you clear your throat and mutter thank you, then get started with the book you and Eddie are reading for class.
🎀💌🎀💌
Today has been the worst day. You overslept, forgot to hand your essay in to your biology teacher, the rain soaked you completely as soon as you left your home and you've been verging on a cold ever since.
So the thought of having to tutor Munson again does not fill you with joy, in all honesty all you want is your bed and to sleep. You couldn't get sick, you had too much to do.
Of course from the moment you meet up with Eddie he's difficult. All because it's Friday and he has a Hellfire meeting.
"I have to set everything up princess, I don't have time to waste here with you" furious you round on him.
"You think that I want to be here? No. I'd rather be at home so sit down and let's get on with this so I don't have to sit with your annoying ass any longer than I have to"
"Well at least I'm not a stuck up bitch with no sense of humour and a permanent stick up my ass"
Eddie's words cut to the bone and you stiffen in response. Don't cry, don't cry you chant to yourself, but you can't help as the tears roll down your cheeks, Eddie's big brown eyes widen in shock as you begin to cry.
Humiliated, you're just about to leave when he steps in front of you. "Wait, what did I do?" The two of you exchanged insults on a daily basis and you had never cried before, Eddie begins to panic as your sobs continue.
"Please don't cry" he says, he hates seeing you cry. Your little whimper stabs at his aching heart and on instinct he reaches over to you and takes your hand, the gesture surprises you both and it dries up your tears.
"I'm sorry, I don't like seeing you cry, please stop" you sniff and wipe the remainder of the tears away, Eddie's hand is still holding yours and it's making you feel things that you never expected.
Eddie gently strokes your hand with his thumb, marvels at the soft skin and how your hand fits perfectly in his own.
Uh, shit. This was new. You smile at him, suddenly seeming shy. His heart skips a beat. Jesus h Christ.
"I didn't mean it" he stumbles over his words and you sigh sadly, peer at him with an expression that tugs at his heart.
"Yes you did" he shakes his head fervently and assured you that he didn't.
"I just snapped back without thinking, I'm sorry" he pleads with you and you hear the sincerity in his voice and calm down a bit.
"I'm sorry too. Today has been so shit, I'm tired and I feel like crap. I just want to sleep" Eddie immediately grabs his notebook and pencil and sits down, he looks to you patiently.
"Let's do half an hour and I'll cram as much as I can in my brain and then I'm going to drive you home okay?" relived you nod but still feel worried.
"Miss O'Donnell won't be happy" you tell him and he shrugs as if he doesn't care one bit.
"Leave the old dragon to me okay princess?" touched at his sweetness you take his hand and squeeze it as a thank you. Surprisingly the half hour passes by cordially and Eddie is still sweet.
Before you know it the half hour has ended and Eddie is true to his word and drives you home. You don't feel much better and your stomach is fluttering like crazy being so close to Eddie.
What the hell was happening? Was this some side effect of the flu? Eddie's big brown eyes meet yours, "Thanks for driving me home Eddie"
He shrugs like it's no big deal and on impulse you reach over to kiss his cheek. The only thing is he moves so you miss completely and end up pressing your lips against his.
His eyes widen and you pull away embarrassed, your heart is racing and your lips are tingling from the kiss. You stammer out an apology but Eddie waves it off, you race out the door and into your house.
All the while Eddie is touching his lips, his own heart is racing a mile a minute and all he can think about is that he really wants to kiss you again.
💌🎀💌🎀
161 notes · View notes
noxturnalpascal · 3 days
Text
Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 6)
Tumblr media
CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader
Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?
Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.
*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*
⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: possessiveness, manipulation, Joel gets mean, Joel gets verbally and physically abusive.⚠️
LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE
PREVIOUS
II. Predator or Prey?
CH 5 (5.8k) It’s two weeks into the New Year and you’ve been spending every day plotting and planning how to keep away from Joel. It’s not easy, especially since you don’t even have a bedroom door to keep his wandering eyes from staring at you while you get ready in the mornings, as he stands in the hallway in overbearing silence. Your task was made even tougher when Tess said he wouldn’t allow you to leave the house anymore for your daily chores. 
You’re stuck inside this dusty old prison all day, awaiting his return. The day might go as usual and he’ll threaten to force feed you at meal time. Maybe it will be another glorious day of him digging bruises into your arms or throwing you against walls. What if he really changed things up and grunted all sorts of fucked up things in your ear while you brushed your teeth? Oh wait, he already does that.
As snarky as you try to be about it – lamenting your life as you drape yourself over the couch, passing the hours in silence and slowly going mad – the whole situation really stresses you out. You weigh your feelings of safety and security in this community with the vicious and unpredictable behavior you’ve been enduring in this house. Is it still worth it to stay here? Are you better off in The Valley or would you be better off out there, alone in the wilderness? You’re on edge all the time, never sure what’s going to set him off. You spend so much time thinking about him, every moment you’re awake really, just so you can try to avoid him as much as possible. 
He used to be on your mind all the time, thinking about his body on yours, the warmth of his skin under your hands. You’d fantasize about a future with him and what that might be like, letting him protect you and take care of you. Now you think about if you’re always going to be this hurt by his duplicity, feel this raw about his deception. Deep down, in a place you don’t like to acknowledge, you still wonder if there’s any future for the two of you. You push that thought away to compose a plan for how to stay out of his way when he gets home for the day.
And yet, every night at dinner you sit right next to him, unable to escape, watching out of your peripheral vision as he stares you down with a hateful look in his eyes. There was a time when you thought that the scariest thing he could do was touch you without your permission. But now he touches you every day – with open palms and closed fists, clutching fingers and rough grips. You never even considered these kinds of touches as an option from the man who used to be so gentle and tender with you. That man is gone. 
This day, however, looks like it might turn out alright when Sasha and Tess return shortly before sunset from a scavenging trip they made to a family lodge situated on a rocky outcropping a few hours hike west of The Valley. They pile their haul on the dining room table, emptying out packs and bags they came back with stuffed full, and a stack of books catches your eye.
“Who are these for?”
“Anyone,” Sasha answers while sorting the clothes by size into neatly folded piles. “There were a bunch in a makeshift library up there but most of the collection was damaged by water and mildew. There were only a few we could salvage.”
You stand still, staring at the books, not wanting to pilfer something that Tess and Sasha worked hard to collect for the entire Valley. Tess sees you hesitating and pushes the stack towards you.
“Go ahead, look through ‘em and read any you want,” she shrugs. “When you’re done we can put ‘em back in the community library.”
You lift the first book up, going through the stack slowly, not recognizing any titles. The first two are young adult books, their covers adorned with pennants for their high school team and smiling teens talking on the phone. The third is the 1994 National Electric Code Handbook and the fourth is a non-fiction book on the Native American tribes that once inhabited New England. But the fifth one makes you stop in your tracks. 
The fifth book is your favorite book.
You turn it over in your hands, its dust jacket long since removed. The faded red hardcover is soft with wear, but the simple tree in gold foil on the front is still gleaming. The Secret Garden. Your eyes begin to sting as you recall the places your imagination used to take you to when you read this story, wishing as a child that you had a secret garden of your own to find, hide away in, and restore to glory. You kind of wish you had one now.
“You read that one?” Sasha calls over her growing piles.
“Yeah,” you whisper, your voice breaking, “It’s my favorite book.” You look up and meet her face, tears in your eyes. But she’s not looking at you. She’s looking past you, face solemn. Your smile disappears as you slowly turn around, already knowing what you’re going to see. You don’t look at his face. You don’t meet his eyes. You take trembling breaths as your eyes fall on the center of his chest, less than a foot distance between you. Joel.
Favorite book you’d said. Just like that. Offered it up like the most casual thing in the world. But would you tell him when he asked? Of course not. He gave you so much. He gave you food and shelter. He told you about himself – shit, he even told you about Sarah. But you wouldn’t tell him about a stupid fucking book, wouldn’t give him your fucking name, even after all this time. Wouldn’t give him what he needed. 
You. He needed you. 
You withholding little bitch. 
He grabs the book out of your hands, turning it to read the title on the spine. 
“Look at me,” he demands.
You don’t.
He doesn’t ask again. He lifts the book to your eye line, grabbing a chunk of pages in his right hand and yanking them out of the spine. He holds his hand up and releases the pages, letting them flutter to the ground, single sheets and some clusters still bound together covering your socked feet. The tears collecting at your waterline spill over and you let out a quiet whimper. He shoves the carcass of the book back into your hands and walks out of the room, a satisfied smirk on his face.
Tess follows him, pushing open the closing door of his office behind him. 
“Why’d you do that to her?” she asks, stepping into the darkening room, the short winter day having just seen the sun set.
“Don’t give her any more books,” he snaps, ignoring her question.
“You made her cry–”
“Oh boo-fuckin’-hoo, she’s always cryin’.” Her eyes are adjusting to the dark and she sees him moving across the room.
“Joel–”
“No more books,” he shouts, turning to stomp back to where she stands. “She has a fuckin’ book and it’s out there sittin’ on the mantle,” he points at the wall, momentarily acknowledging the book he pretends he hasn’t seen remain untouched since Christmas, everytime he walks through the goddamn room.
Tess holds her hands up in defeat and backs out of the room, leaving him alone to pace and grumble to himself. She decides to make a plan that night, determined to find a way to snap Joel out of it and keep you safe in the meantime.
Alone again, Joel feels himself thickening in his pants and he wants to scream, wants to put his fist through the wall. He wants to shake you and slap you and squeeze you and make you look at him like you did before. You won’t look at him at all. Why won’t you fucking look at him? 
There’s no moon in the night sky so even with multiple windows in this room it remains quite dark. He rounds his desk, bumping his hip into the corner as he throws himself into his chair. He pulls open a bottom desk drawer and withdraws an item he’s kept hidden under a pile of maps: a pair of your underwear. He remembers the night he took them, the week before everything went to shit. Before you looked at him like everyone else. Before you broke yourself open for him. Before his true self was revealed to you. 
Before you hated him.
He shucks his jeans open and reaches into his pants, his dick already hard. He spits into his hand and begins stroking up and down, bringing your underwear to his face and taking deep inhales, setting a fast pace. As he takes whiffs, he opens his mouth, letting the heady scent of you permeate all his senses, rolling his eyes back into his head. He thinks about that night he pulled these down your legs, how you looked on all fours bared open for him and the way you rolled your hips, moaning his name. He thinks about what you tasted like when you came on his face.
He hisses, squeezing hard at the base of his shaft, suddenly aware that he’s about to come much too quickly. He slams the underwear down on the desk, cursing that he lets you affect him like this. He’s barely touched himself these past weeks, getting too angry every time he thinks about you and how badly he wants you, how you won’t give him what he wants. He’s neglected the aching hardness he awakes with each morning and ignored the other women knocking on his bedroom door at night, knowing it isn’t you on the other side. You won’t give him what he needs.
He wraps his hand around his shaft and resumes stroking, slowly this time, staring at the underwear he’d stuck in his back pocket after you begged him to take them off and keened when his mouth touched you. His eyes have adjusted to the dim room and he thinks he can see a stain on the gusset, reaching forward to brush his thumb along the fabric. His calloused finger scrapes across the dried remnants of your arousal and he groans loudly, squeezing his cock firmly again, willing himself not to come yet.
He watches his hand continue slow movements on his length, rolling his fingers along the underside of his head, over the tip, gathering the precum there to swirl and spread on his downward strokes. Why the fuck does he let you do this to him? Why does he let you get in his fucking head? He can’t control himself, he’s losing his goddamn mind. He should go back out there and grab you by the hair, drag you in here, and remind you how lucky you are to be here.
He looks over at the couch he used to sit with you on. He should throw you over that couch, pull your pants down past your ass and fuck you from behind. He’d grab the books he’d read to you off the shelf and smack your ass with them, listen to you cry out and whimper, hear your growing wetness as his cock pounds your perfect, willing pussy. He’d make you grovel for his forgiveness, make you beg him to let you come. He’d make you thank him for your Christmas gift. He’d make you fucking look at him.
That’s what he’d do. 
He’d grab your face and make you look him in his eyes while you came, feeling the spasming walls of your cunt around him. He’d keep fucking into you, listening to you wail through your orgasm, watching your eyes roll back and your face go slack. He’d make you watch his cock disappearing inside you, covered with your creamy arousal as he hits that perfect spot deep inside you. The place he earned. The place you refuse to give him. He grabs the underwear off the desk and wraps them around his length, increasing his pace again. 
The only sounds in the room are his panting breaths and the thumps of his fist hitting his pelvis with force as he pumps himself over and over. His head is thrown back when he feels the familiar tension in his balls and he brings his chin to his chest to watch his release darken the fabric covering his cockhead. He pulls your underwear off him with one hand and continues to jerk himself with the other, pressing himself down, aiming it so the white ropes pumping out of him cover the stolen garment. His breath hitches in his throat with short, desperate gasps as he squeezes the last of his climax into the cloth.
He clenches his hand around the underwear, letting his spend press between his fingers and run down his fist, dripping onto his denim-covered knees. What a fucking waste. Your denial, your refusal, your goddamn obstinance. Look where it gets him – coming into his hand like a pitiful virgin, as if he can’t get a woman of his own to fuck him. How dare you treat him like this, withhold yourself from him, have him resorting to these degrading acts. 
You seem to forget how good you have it in the safety of his dominion, protected under his watchful eye. Maybe you forgot how ugly the world is out there, how cruel people can be. How many people in this world would kill to be in your place? How many women here in The Valley wish they were you, fortunate enough to be the object of his desire? You’re so fucking ungrateful. You need a lesson in how to behave, how to be more appreciative of him. You need to learn some loyalty.
The following Thursday you’re facing the front door, bundling up your coat for the walk to the meeting and waiting for Joel to come out of his office to walk with you since you’re not allowed to leave the house without him. You hear the door open but don’t look back until you hear an unexpected noise in the form of a female voice. Kerri is walking with him through the living room. They were in his office together. 
It’s fine, you don’t care. You’re not jealous. You have no claim over him. He’s not yours. You don’t want him. He does whatever he wants and you can’t control it. So let him have it his way, you don’t care.
You catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye but you don’t dare turn your head. You won’t give him the satisfaction. Behind you, you think you hear Kerri getting her coat and shoes on as well. Tess is wiping down the dinner table and sees the group of you gathered at the door.
“Kerri, where are you goin’, hon?”
“She’s coming to the meeting with me,” Joel answers for her. He said me, not us. Like you weren’t even there. You let a scowl take over your face. He’s being such an asshole. Tess doesn’t question him, probably for the best. You hear him huff out a laugh.
You look his way and see the smug grin on his face as he opens the front door and motions for you to go out of it. You don’t let it bother you. It’s fine that he’s bringing Kerri to this meeting even though Thursdays are supposed to be your meeting nights. It’s fine that they walk hand-in-hand behind you on the walk to and from the meeting. It’s also fine that he ordered her to sit in your usual seat next to him at the meeting and for you to sit on the other side of the room instead.
He doesn’t try to put his hands on you, he doesn’t chase you up the stairs. It’s fine. It’s what you wanted. You’re glad for it. So then why do you feel like your insides are on fire and you’re fighting the urge to spill them all over the ground? Back at the house Joel and Kerri head towards his office so you go to the kitchen to get some water and get away from them.
Moments later they’re coming into the kitchen and you hate the way your stomach rolls at the sight of them. Out of the corner of your eye you see her reach into the cupboard for a glass and you watch him push her against the counter, pressing himself into her ass. You just know he’s digging his erection into her. He used to do that to you. You used to like it.
A shiver goes through your body and you almost drop your glass, but as you recover you see in your peripheral vision that he’s watching you. Is he doing this to get a reaction from you? Is he waiting for you to cry again? You won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Goodnight, Kerri,” you say as you turn quickly and head out of the kitchen.
He grabs you before you can even make it through the dining room.
“Not gonna say goodnight to me?” He digs his fingers into the tender underside of your upper arm. 
You hiss quietly in pain.
“You should know better than to be so rude,” he spits, bringing his face within inches of your own. “Seems like I need to teach you some fuckin’ manners.” 
He lifts his other hand and swats your ass, laughing when you yelp in surprise.
“Well, I’m gonna go to bed,” Kerri says in the doorway.
She might as well be invisible for how Joel completely ignores her while he swats at you a few more times, mumbling how you’re such an ungrateful little cunt in your ear. You try to wriggle away and push him back but his grip only tightens. You’re reminded of a blood pressure cuff, the pressure and pain with which his hand cinches around you. 
Has he been playing this charade with Kerri all night just to get a rise out of you? Was he always like this? You thought he was a good man; compassionate, hospitable, affectionate,  genuine. Did he only show you enough of himself to lure you, to make you trust him? Was he lying the whole time about his true intentions? Were you really that gullible? God… he’s so fucking manipulative. 
You don’t know what you’re thinking but the throbbing in your arm has your free hand scrabbling to get away and before you can measure the consequences of your actions, your open hand slaps across his face. Joel relaxess his grip on your arm immediately, the shock evident on his face, but before you can wrench yourself completely free of his hold, he throws you across the top of the table.
You come crashing down over the other edge, your limbs flailing and knocking over a chair on the way down. Before you can steady yourself enough to stand up on your own, he’s come around the table and put his hands on you again, lifting and shoving you against the front wall. Each hand grips your arm above the elbow, bracing your shoulder blades hard against the wall. His face comes to your neck and you feel him inhaling, feel his moist breath huffing against you, feel his stubble scraping you, feel his tongue dragging along you.
“Why the fuck are you making such a big deal of this bullshit, baby?” he coos. “The world ended. None of that old nonsense matters anymore.” He moves one hand up to your jaw, gripping your face hard.
“It matters to me,” you squeak through gritted teeth.
“All that matters to you is me, you understand?” He holds you so firmly that you can’t open your mouth to speak or even shake your head in response. “This is all that matters.” He begins to place gentle kisses along your pulse point, in opposition to the crushing embrace he’s got you in.
Eventually he loosens his grip on your jaw and, without hesitation, you take your free arm and place it over his sternum, shoving him backwards as hard as you can. Shock is quickly replaced by anger on his face. You hold your hands out in front of you, distracting him enough to stop his advancing aggression. You gather courage from somewhere deep inside you, lashing out for his callous disregard of you all night followed by this gaslighting manipulation.
“I’m so tired of you spouting your bullshit dogma just to try and get me to fuck you,” you seethe.
He raises his hand like he’s going to slap you but when you hold your head up, somehow managing not to flinch, he doesn’t follow through. Instead he lowers his hand to shove a single finger in your face.
“You think I want to fuck you?,” he bellows, “I don’t want to fuck you. I don’t want to want you. I don’t want to think about you every fucking second of every fucking day.” He reaches forward and grabs the flesh at your hips. You side-step out of his clutch and take a few steps towards the stairs before he grabs you by the wrist and holds it tight. “Do you see how fucking weak you make me?”
You walk backwards, trying to put distance between you but his wrap around your wrist is firm.
“You’re hurting me, Joel,” you mutter. He doesn’t let go.
“Look at me,” he orders. “Fucking look at me, goddamnit.”
You don’t.
Something inside him snaps. He yanks you closer with the hand around your wrist and pulls your body against his so that his chest is to your back, snaking his arms around you and cinching them tight. He scrapes his stubble hard along your neck and buries his nose in your hair, taking several deep inhales and groaning in between breaths. 
His lower arm bands across your hips, digging into your soft flesh there while his other arm loosens and moves its way up your front. He grabs one of your breasts tight in his hand and presses his erection against your backside. You’re constricted tight, arms trapped as well, and unable to move away from him. You manage a breathy exhale of his name, meant to serve as a plea, but it can barely be heard.
“You can’t get away from me,” he growls in your ear. “You can never get away from me.”
He goes back to holding you with both arms, wrapped so tight that he knows it’s probably hurting you. You’re clearly struggling to breathe and even your feeble wriggling feels futile. Then he looks down and notices your struggling movements have shifted your sweater to expose the top of your shoulder. He recalls the mark he once sucked into your skin there, and the way it stayed on you for weeks. You need another reminder of who you belong to.
He moves his mouth to that same spot, baring his teeth, and bites into your flesh. Hard. 
He barely hears your screaming over the pounding of his pulse in his ears, his own ragged and panting breaths, his drawn out, animalistic moan. Suddenly there’s tugging on his arms and he looks up to see Tess’ wide eyes staring at him, mouth moving. She must be saying something but he can’t make it out. Someone is yanking at his shirtsleeve on his other side and when he turns his head, teeth bared in a snarl, he sees Kerri recoil in horror. 
Tess punches at his arms, claws at his neck, and tugs on his hair, finally managing to get him to loosen his arms enough to free you. She yanks you away from him and as she pulls you up the stairs you see him watching you from the bottom, eyes black, hair a mess, your blood dripping down the corners of his mouth. Tess drags you down the hall into her room, locking the door behind her. She puts a chair under the doorknob and tends to your wound with a first aid kit stashed under her bed. 
She lets you sleep in her room that night. Joel doesn’t come for you.
The next evening you’re standing in the shadows behind the old ice skating rink, which is used as makeshift stables during The Valley’s Friday evening events. It’s off the main road, set back in the woods a bit, but you have a pretty good view of the town square from here. You can see people coming and going, see Joel shaking hands with them all, nodding while they talk to him but looking over their heads, probably searching for you. 
“You’re gonna catch a cold.” You nearly jump out of your skin at Tess’ words. You didn’t even hear her coming. “I told you to wait inside.”
“It smells like horseshit in there. Besides, I’ve got this,” you say pointing to the knit scarf around your neck. 
She just nods, knowing you have a scarf because she’s the one who put it on you. She helped you get cleaned and dressed for tonight since you spent all day in her room hiding from Joel. She looks you over once you’re all dressed and then you both look at the bandage she has taped at your shoulder, peeking out from under your shirt collar. She grabs the scarf out of her drawer and circled it around you several times, tucking the ends into your coat.
“Do you know Beth?” Tess asks abruptly.
“Beth?”
“Yeah, Beth,” she continues. “Short brown hair, she lives with Hank Mansfield’s family, down at the dairy farm.”
“Oh, Beth. Yeah, she comes with Hank to the Thursday night meetings,” you nod.
“Exactly. She used to be a seamstress,” Tess adds. “Did you know that?”
“No, I don’t think we’ve talked much.” You know you haven’t talked much because you spent most of the Thursday meetings staring at Joel’s lips and waiting for them to be planted on yours. 
“She makes all her own clothes. She’s been helping the Mansfield’s too. I think she could help here in town if she lived closer.”
“Yeah I bet,” you reply.
“I was thinkin’, maybe you and her could trade rooms,” Tess answers your unspoken question.
“Trade rooms?”
“Yeah… she could have your room and you could go help out at the farm.”
“The fa–” you begin to question when her meaning hits you like a fist to the gut. You turn to look at her, a pinching pain behind your eyes, panic obvious on your face. “You want me to leave?”
“No, of course I don’t want that,” Tess immediately replies in a soothing voice. “I just think Beth could really help out here in town, but she’d need a room. And I thought maybe you might be willing to give yours up.”
“Give it up? I don’t understand.”
“I mean, you don’t have to live in that house if you don’t want to,” she nods towards the big house you share on the other side of the square. “It’s your choice. You can live anywhere you want.”
That doesn’t seem true. You don’t live at Joel’s house because you chose it. You live there because he invited you. He asked you. He chose you. You didn’t feel like you could say no and you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t let you choose somewhere else, especially not now.
“I don’t think he’d–,”
“No, it’s not his choice,” she interrupts you and repeats, “It’s your choice.”
“It is?”
“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “You could give Beth your room so she’d be able to help us here in town and you’d get a room at the Mansfield’s. You’d be able to help milk the cows. I hear a couple of them are pregnant, so there’d be babies this spring – get yourself a little change of scenery….”
Tess doesn’t want to seem like she’s overselling it but she really hopes the promise of baby animals tips this in her favor. She hopes that she’s getting the message across without having to say the actual words. I need to take you away from him, PJ. He’s going to keep hurting you, PJ. I’m trying to save you, PJ. She wants you to think that this was your idea, but mostly she needs you to agree to this. Right now.
“It’s far away though, isn’t it?” you say, staring in the direction of the town square now, where Joel is no doubt shirking his duties and obsessively searching for you. 
“It’s far enough,” she replies, letting the implication remain unspoken.
“I– I think he’d be mad,” you whisper.
“It’s not up to him. It’s up to you,” she nods, a soft smile on her face when you meet her eyes again. Please, she pleads silently. “What do you want, PJ? Do you want to help me out? Give Beth your room?”
A long moment of silence passes, breaking eye contact and looking down at your feet shuffling them several times before looking back at Tess, a hint of sadness in your eyes, a touch of defeat.
“I– I could do that, yeah.”
“Great! That’s great,” Tess exhales, unable to mask her relief. She quickly reels back her emotions and expresses simple and stoic gratitude, as if it’s a run-of-the-mill thing that’s just been agreed to – no big deal. “Thank you PJ, that’s really nice of you.”
Joel stands next to Sasha, her cold hand clutched in his warm one, looking around the square. He’s waiting for everyone else to meet them in front of the bakery so they can all walk home together. He sees Tess coming down the sidewalk, walking towards him with someone who isn’t you. You must be with Rosie and Kerri.
“Joel, you remember Beth, right?” Tess asks him when she comes to a halt at his side, “Lives with the Mansfield’s out at the dairy farm?”
“Of course,” he nods his head, barely looking in their direction. “Hank’s daughter. Hi, Beth.”
“She’s not Hank’s daughter,” Tess corrects. Joel finally looks at them, giving Tess most of his attention and Beth a quick glance. “Beth has just been livin’ at the farm since she came into town with Olivier and his wife, from the Montreal Safe Zone?”
“Oh, sure,” Joel says, as if this isn’t brand new information, “That’s what I meant.” And his attention is diverted once again, scanning the park across the street, looking at the departing crowds from the night of fun festivities.
“She’s a seamstress, did you know that?”
Joel doesn’t even bother responding this time. Why would he know that Beth was a fuckin’ seamstress? Why would he have ever talked about that with Beth? He doesn’t think he’s ever talked to Beth about anything at all. Why would he fuckin’ care? He vaguely hears Tess saying something about staying with us a while and he hums in acknowledgement. Why is Tess bothering him with all this stupid fuckin’ information? He’s obviously busy looking for you. 
His head on a swivel he sees Rosie and Kerri approaching from the other side of town. Wait, where are you? You were supposed to be with…
With Tess. You were with Tess. He turns to look Tess square in the eyes now. She has his full attention.
“Where is she?” he fumes.
“Like I way saying, Beth is a seamstress and she needed a room–”
“Who?” Joel sputters, not comprehending the words coming out of her mouth.
“Beth,” Tess repeats, motioning to the woman standing silently beside her. Beth waves awkwardly.
Joel whips himself around and takes off towards the house, dragging Sasha alongside him, not even fully realizing her hand is still clutched tight in his. He bursts in the door and lets go of Sasha, taking the stairs two at a time and entering the small, darkened room at the top of the stairs with no door. The sheets and blanket are fresh and crisp, the bed is neatly made. Five hangars swing empty from the curtain rod at the window, a half moon shining behind some scattered clouds and casting dim light through the sheer curtains. 
He touches the empty bedside table. It used to be covered with books, leaves, and rocks you found interesting in shape or color. Things you collected when you walked together. Things you collected when you walked alone, after you stopped looking at him. Things that proved you were still here. That you were still his. Now they’re gone. You’re gone. Tess took you away. 
He comes down the stairs slowly, Sasha standing just inside the dining room rubbing her wrist, the other women coming in the door. Tess stands at the bottom of the stairs with that girl whos’ not you at her side – Beth.
“What the fuck did you do?” Joel seethes. He reaches the last step and looks across the living room, his eye catching on the spine of the book he gave on Christmas, sitting on the fireplace mantle. It’s still here. You’re not.
“Beth needed–” Tess is cut off by a palm striking across her face.
She can’t say she wasn’t expecting a bad reaction from him, but she would have braced herself better if she knew it was coming right then. The slap sends her tipping sideways and she thinks she might even fall down except that Joel grabs the front of her shirt with both hands, keeping her from landing on the ground. He barks for everyone to go to bed and Tess watches Beth’s horrified face as Sasha takes her hand and pulls her up the stairs.
Tess knows he’s not done. She knows he’s going to keep going, keep hitting her, keep blaming her. She’s going to look like she got kicked by a horse tomorrow but it was worth it. He’s not hitting you. She can take it. She’s taken it before, from men with quick tempers. Joel will get his venom out tonight and tomorrow he’ll be remorseful and apologetic. Soon enough he’ll detox from you and eventually he’ll emerge from the haze, able to see clearly again. He’ll get his head on straight and be able to deal with things rationally. 
At least that’s what she hopes. Everything depends on her being right. If he keeps going down the path he’s on now, she thinks this whole place – and everyone in it – is doomed.
🖤
NEXT
Thank you to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk, for helping me with this series, and for both fully understanding and appreciating my direction with these two. 🫂You work so hard (for free) and I appreciate everything you do.
TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog
113 notes · View notes
deathblacksmoke · 1 day
Text
too sweet
Tumblr media
pairing: matt dierkes x f!reader
cw: fluffy little drabble — cuties in love, bordering on so fluffy i might pass out about it, unprotected p in v sex, mentions of rough sex
word count: ~900
author's note: needed matt fluff, wrote matt fluff 🩷
Tumblr media
It feels a little possessive, the way he slings an arm around your shoulder and pulls you flush against his side.
He’s always a little arrogant and you love that about him. There’s a bit of softness that it seems is reserved for you and you only — a quick temper when he snaps at one person or another, but always tender when he turns his attention back to you, eyes sparkling and smile wide, ready to take your hand in his again.
His face is painted with a smug expression when you look over at him — he’s so gorgeous, and as you study him, it occurs to you that the possessive nature of his hold is probably something closer to pride.
It matches your own. You love being his.
Whatever this thing is between the two of you, it’s still so fresh. Your skin still heats everywhere he touches you, your heart still races, and you wonder if it will ever stop feeling like that.
You take a moment to wonder distantly when he’ll ask you. It feels like such a big scary thing, but you want it. You feel so at peace, here with him, where he sees you and listens to you. He flies you out, shirks his responsibilities for the afternoon so he can be the one to pick you up from the airport with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand. He makes you feel special.
He moves so quickly from bossing the guys around to glancing over to you, expression softening, hand raising in a small wave. You melt for him, watching the show from the balcony behind his booth. The best spot in the house — you can watch him work.
He spends his entire off day letting you drag him around a city he’s been to a thousand times, letting you stop him time and time again to take his picture. You want your photo library full of him, to look at when he’s gone from you. He never complains, not about you.
You want him to ask.
You’re taken out of your thoughts just in time to watch the moment he catches you staring, his smile widening as he pulls you closer, placing a kiss to your forehead.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his tone playful.
“Nothing,” you respond, too quickly to be believable but he doesn’t push it. You lean your head against his shoulder, getting as close to him as possible, pleased to have the conversation another time.
Tumblr media
You know him well enough by now to know that a switch has flipped in him, too.
You aren’t used to it like this — blanketing your body, whispering soft and sweet praises in your ear as he rocks gently into you. There isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching, which isn’t out of the ordinary—
But what you’re used to is different, on your belly for him with him draped across your back, or gripping your hips so tight there are bruises that stay for weeks, head shoved into the pillow and filth spewed at you. And you love it like that, the way it juxtaposes itself with how sweetly he treats you in the moments leading up to it and the moments following. The way he’s always too sweet for you even when he’s calling you names and turning your cheeks a ruddy red.
It feels different this time, as he has your hands in his grasp above your head not to restrain you, but to hold them. To keep you close. He lets out the smallest gasp when you lace your fingers through his, placing breathless kisses to your lips.
It’s bliss.
Bliss when he slides his hand between your bodies, the angle awkward for him with how he refuses to put any more space between you than is absolutely necessary but managing to pull your orgasm from you as expertly as he always does.
He looks at you like he’s in love, a look you’ve never known as well as right now — you don’t know what to do with that, as he’s draping himself over you again and placing kiss after kiss all over your face before spilling inside of you with a whimper.
“Fuck—” he groans. “I fucking love you.”
And your head swims.
Tumblr media
You consider not bringing it up, letting him clean you up with such care, not speaking a word. Maybe it was a heat of the moment thing, and you can be okay with that.
But as he gathers you into his arms, face pressing into your hair and inhaling, you have to ask.
“Did you mean it?” you ask him, feeling suddenly shy and uncertain. You’re so scared he’ll say no, feeling your hands trembling before he takes them in his and turns you to face him.
His face says it all, but he just nods, seeming shy and uncertain himself.
“Couldn’t ask me to be your girlfriend first?” you inquire, mostly a joke although you can’t help but find his order of operations amusing. He always has been a little unorthodox.
“I thought that was implied,” he shrugs, making you laugh at him. “Isn’t it?”
Thinking back through every moment you’ve spent with him, all the time he’s spent treating you so nice and making you feel so loved, while you spent it wondering when he’d finally ask you.
He’s been yours all along.
You nod, settling back comfortably into his embrace. “I love you too.”
Tumblr media
tagging: @concretenoah @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @ladyveronikawrites @throwingmetothelions @baddestomens @thatchickwiththecamera @abiomens @lma1986
dividers by @saradika-graphics <3
75 notes · View notes
mxmmyprentiss · 1 day
Text
Bad Mom
Summary: Emily has always been better at this mom thing than you are. Sometimes, you actually envy her for how good she is at it. She was a natural while you’re a disaster. And maybe your daughter knew that. Genre: Fluff Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: none Word count: 1.6K
A/N: Just some little fluff piece I wrote to get back to writing. It's not proofread so forgive me for mistakes and errors. Likes, comments and shares are welcome. Enjoy! :)
AO3
You and Emily Prentiss have been married for over five years now. You dated for two years prior to your marriage. And in those years that you’ve been together, both of you have gone through ups and downs together. Emily has never left you to deal with your problems alone.
Except today.
And that problem was your 3-year-old daughter having temper tantrums at breakfast.
“I don’ wike t’is!” Eleanor, your daughter, slammed her tiny hands on the dining table. She was clearly furious at you for trying to feed her vegetables instead of her requested chocolate cereals.
In your defense, it’s all she wanted to eat lately and you just didn’t want her to be diabetic early (or at all). 
“Ellie, please. This is yummy and healthy, baby. You can have cereal again tomorrow.”
Ellie shook her head and continued slamming the table. Her face was flushed from yelling and arguing with you for the past ten minutes or so. “No, mama! Ce-yals today!”
You sighed weakly. Ellie was such a good, easy  kid most of the time but can be a real pain in the ass when she wants to be. And in those times, only your wife can get through her stubbornness. After all, she is Emily’s daughter too.
“Mommy will be mad. Do you want mommy to be mad?”
“Mommy not he’e!” She pouted.
“I know, but she will be mad once she finds out you’re giving Mama a hard time.”
Ellie folded her arms to her chest and displayed a sulky pout. “I wan’ mommy!” She fiercely yelled at you. “I wan’ mommy he’e!”
“I want mommy here too, baby, but she is fighting bad guys and she will come back to us soon.” You tried to offer her another spoonful of mashed vegetables. To your surprise, Ellie grabbed the spoon and tossed it to the floor. “Eleanor Prentiss!”
“Mama bad! Bad!” Ellie screamed before storming off to the living room and played with her puzzles.
Your eyes fell to the mess your daughter made on the table and the floor.
God, you wish she was here. Emily has always been better at this mom thing than you are. Sometimes, you actually envy her for how good she is at it. She was a natural while you’re a disaster. And maybe your daughter knew that.
After cleaning up the mess, you gave up and fed her cereals instead. It’s still better than Ellie not eating anything at all.
Your phone buzzed and it was from your wife.
Emily: Hey, babe. Just got back from Chicago. How are you and Ellie?
You: Ellie and I are enemies at the moment. She’s not eating her veggies and she’s asking for you.
Emily: I’ll be home in 30. Just have to finish this last paperwork then I’m out.
You: See you later, babe. I love you.
Emily: I love you too and that little self-willed kid of ours.
You have no doubt about that. In all the years that you’ve known each other, not once did Emily make you feel that you didn’t matter to her. Even when she had to leave you for days or weeks to travel to different states for her job. She never made you feel that her job was a priority over you; it’s just something she had to do. Emily would call you every night to check on you. Most times she would have food delivered at your door or at your workplace so she’s sure that you’d eaten. And when your wife comes home to you, a bouquet of hydrangea - your favorite flower - would be found on your bedside table.
But when you and Emily decided to adopt Eleanor three years ago, everything changed.
Emily was just promoted as BAU unit chief six months before Ellie’s adoption while you stayed home for a while to take care of your newborn. Your wife managed to spend less hours in the office and made a strict rule to not be interrupted during her off days. During some of these days, you would caught her teaching Ellie different languages and the then two-year-old girl was just staring at her wide-eyed.
Your wife had made sure to spend her annual leaves with you and Ellie. Emily would take you and Ellie to Disneyland and other theme parks she researched about. She would never bring her family to places she deemed unsafe and family unfriendly, especially places the BAU has worked abduction cases with. 
Long story short, the change in your routine was all for the better.
Emily is a great mother, the best even. And she is just as great as your wife.
The problem lied with you though. You can’t seem to get through to your daughter like Emily did. It feels as if Ellie didn’t like you, or just liked her other mother better. Of course, you still loved that kid to death and you would do anything for her. But sometimes, at times like this one, it feels like you’re a failure of a mother to her.
Ellie was still ignoring you and your attempts to play with her. If you had a bingo card of her mama no’s, you would have won by now.
Maybe your daughter hated you.
You settled on watching your daughter have a tea party with her stuffed animals. Her dark curls tangled with the golden plastic crown she wore and her dark brown eyes focused on her white bunny. She was doing her best in re-telling them the bedtime story you told her last night.
The front door opened and Emily entered the living room, holding a big bouquet of pink and lavender hydrangeas and a tiny bouquet of white lilies.
“Queen Emily has arrived!” Emily announced, referencing the last story she told Ellie the night before she left for the case. “How’s my lovely sunshines?”
“Mommy!” Ellie exclaimed and ran to Emily. The little girl tightly hugged her mother’s leg. “Miss you, mommy!”
“Aww, I missed you too, sweet cheeks.” Emily knelt down to kiss her daughter’s cheek. She handed her the small bouquet. “This is for you, baby girl.”
Ellie jumped in joy and hugged Emily. “Thanks, mommy! They pwetty!”
“Yes, they are. Just like you, little one.” Emily playfully pinched her nose. When Ellie ran back to her tea party - boasting to everyone about the pretty flowers that her mother got her - Emily turned to you. “Hi, beautiful.”
“Please, I’m a mess.” You said, smiling faintly.
“Oh, you could be wearing a trash bag and I’d still find you the most beautiful woman on the entire planet.” You couldn’t help the blush that crept on your cheeks. Damn, this woman. Emily planted a kiss on your lips then handed you your bouquet. “This is for the best wife and mom in the world.”
You gratefully accept her gift. “Best wife? Yes. Best mother? Hmm, you’ll have to ask Ellie that.” You kissed Emily’s nose. “Your daughter hates me.”
“Our daughter,” Emily corrected you, slightly offended that you would ever say otherwise. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s just a stubborn little girl.”
“Wonder who she got that from.” You teased, earning an eye roll from your wife. “I made breakfast for you in the kitchen. You should eat.”
“Best.” Emily pecked your lips. “Wife.” And another peck. “Ever.” And another.
“I better be ‘cause I’d be the only one you’re getting for the rest of your life.” A smirk formed at your lips.
“One and only, babe.” Emily winked at you.
You and Emily spent the entire day playing with your daughter - having tea parties, dressing up her barbies, Emily making up silly stories about your family running an entire kingdom of stuffed animals. Eventually, your wife made sure that Ellie eats the mashed vegetables you prepared for her, proving only a stubborn could get past another stubborn.
Later that night, you and Emily tucked your daughter in. Emily was carefully brushing her hair while you set up her starry night light. Like most kids her age, Ellie didn’t like sleeping in the dark.
Ellie looked up to you. “Mama, pwease tell me ‘nother stowy?”
Your eyes met Emily’s. She smiled softly and nodded at you to go along with your daughter’s request.
You’re about to grab a book from Ellie’s cabinet when she stops you. “Don’ wan’ books. Wan’ mama and mommy stowy.”
“Our story?” Emily clarified. Little Ellie nodded. “Oh, mama, she wants to know our story.”
“I’m telling this one because we cannot trust mommy to tell the whole story, right?” You giggled as you tickled your daughter. “Okay, where do we start, hmm?”
“Start when you saw me across the room and fell in love with me.”
“I think that was the other way around, honey.”
“Touché.” Emily carried Ellie on her lap and hugged her. “Mama’s just so pretty that mommy cannot help but fall in love with her.”
Ellie giggled. “Mama pwetty!”
“That’s right, she is.” Emily smirked. “Mommy’s lucky.”
“Mommy, you pwetty too!”
You grinned. “She is. And you are our pretty little baby, Ellie.” You leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I love you so much.”
Ellie reached out and hugged your neck. “Wuv you, mama.” She planted a kiss on your cheek. “Sowwy I stubbo’n ‘bout veggies.”
Your heart swelled with love for your daughter. Emily squeezed your hand when she noticed the tears pooling in your eyes. “It’s alright, honey.” You said.
After telling your daughter more of how her mothers met, with a little too much protests from your wife about the inconsistencies about your story, Ellie eventually fell asleep hugging her stuffed giraffe.
“I told you she doesn’t hate you.” Emily spoke once you’re both in your bed, snuggling from behind and wrapping her arms around you. She planted a kiss on your exposed shoulder. “Don’t ever think that you’re a bad mom. Ellie is lucky to have you, and so am I.”
You didn’t say anything. Instead, you relaxed in your wife’s embrace.
And you believe her.
92 notes · View notes
phoward89 · 7 hours
Text
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist
WARNING: ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is his own warning. Strabo Plinth is a horrible father. Cussing. Older man/younger woman relationship implied (not Coriolanus x Reader tho), hints to poisoning/murder
Tumblr media
You're in the kitchen helping Ma make some cookies whenever you heard a knock at the door. “I bet it's your Coryo.” Ma knowingly smiled. “Go on, spend some time with your friend.”
“But Ma-”
“I'll be fine making the cookies by myself, now go on and answer the door.”
You just smiled at your Ma before pulling off your apron and tossing it onto the counter. Quickly, you rushed out of the kitchen and over to the front door.
But instead of being met with Coryo, you were standing face to face with some man your father's age that had a little boy by his side. You noticed that the man has on a peacekeeper’s dress uniform with a General's mark on it. So, you figured it was one of your father's friends coming over to visit.
“My Pa’s in his study.” You informed the man, stepping aside so that him and his son could enter.
“You must be Y/N.” The man said, eying you up and down as if you were an Avox on the auction block. The smarmy look in his brown eyes made your skin crawl. “Strabo’s right, you're quite a beauty.” He grinned.
You felt relieved whenever you saw Coryo in the background, walking down the hall before you could close the door. Deciding to make a quick exit, because your father's friend was making you feel uneasy, you told the general, “Nice to meet you, but I see my friend in the hallway. Gotta go, bye.”
Before the general could stop you, you rushed out of the apartment and slammed the door shut behind you.
“Coryo!” You called out, causing him to flash you a smile, as you ran over to him.
“Darling, I was just coming over to see you.” Coryo grinned, wrapping you into a hug as soon as you two came face to face.
“Can we go to yours?” You asked, looking up at him. His perfectly sculpted brow rose in a silent question, causing you to tell your platinum blonde friend, “My father has a friend of his over, some general with a little kid, and I don't want to be ogled or stuck playing babysitter.”
Pulling back slightly and tilting his head, Coryo asked, “What do you mean ogled at, pretty girl?”
“The General looked at me like I'm an Avox on the auction block whenever I answered the door. I literally rushed out the door when I spotted you to get away from him.”
Breaking your high and grabbing your hand, he said, “Come on, I'm going to have a talk with Strabo and the General about his lecherous actions towards you.”
“Coryo-” You began to protest, since you just wanted to go to his penthouse, but he wasn't having it. Coryo interrupted you with, “I'm not gonna put up with one of your father's friends staring at you like a piece of meat at the market. You're my girl; deserve respect.”
“Your girl? But I thought we just became friends?” You asked the pretty blonde boy, who you've warmed up to in the last few weeks.
“Y/N, my darling, in my quest to make you genuinely like me; to befriend you, I've fallen, dare I say, deeply in love with you.”
Actually, Coriolanus has fallen obsessed with you, but to him obsession is love. And possession is love too. He had a very screwed up view of love, whether that be from the way he was raised or from his experiences in 12, but all that matters is that be believed he's in love with you.
His love confession took you aback; off guard. You weren't expecting Coryo to be in love with you. And, frankly, you didn't know what to think about that. How to feel about it.
“Coryo…” You trailed off, speechless. You just couldn't find the right words to express how you felt, but maybe that's because you’re confused at the moment.
Pausing in his steps, also causing you to stop, Coryo took your chin between his thumb and forefinger; tilting it up so your eyes locked onto his icy ones. “Don't say anything, darling. In time, you'll come to love me.” Removing his hand from your chin, only to gently stroke your cheek bone, he smiled, “You're indifference towards has turned to an affinity for friendship; it's a start to feelings of love.”
“I believe that I'll be able to love you the more we spend time together.” You confessed, truly believing that in time you'd learn to love him. He was your brother's best friend so he couldn't be that bad. Coryo, for Sej to care about him (You also think that Sejanus harbored some feelings for Coryo, but you’ll just keep that for yourself) has to have some goodness in him. Something to make him loveable.
Plus, so since agreeing to be friend, he's been nothing, but kind and charming to you. You've even found yourself excited for his visits, to spend time with him.
Yes, in time you'll fall in love with him.
Taking your hand in his once more, he thinly smiled, “Come on, I'll tell your father that I intend to court you and I'll also make sure that his friend, that General, knows how to act properly around you.”, while leading you the remaining few yards to your front door.
Tumblr media
“I'm going to talk with Strabo for a bit, about my intentions of courting your daughter, but I'll pop back in to properly see what you're baking, Ma.” Coriolanus smoothly told your Ma as he escorted you into the kitchen, where Ma was still hard at work baking her biscochitos (a District 2 cookie).
Ma gasped, only to beam happily. Waving Coriolanus off with her hand, clutching a home sewn bird shaped potholder, she warmly said, “Go, go on. We'll be right here waiting for you.”
Coryo pecked you on the cheek before leaving you alone with Ma.
And it only took 2.5 seconds for your Ma to rush over to you. Pulling you into a warm, motherly embrace. “Oh, I'm so happy for you, sweetheart.” She told you, pulling away from the embrace and grabbing your hands. “Coryo will be a very good match for you; he'll be a husband that you'll be able to love.”
“You really think so, Ma?” You asked, a hopeful look on your face.
Having someone court you was no small thing. It meant that marriage was a certainty; it was the desired outcome. Courting was different from dating. With dating marriage wasn't an end goal set in stone, but with courting it was.
Coryo asking your Pa for permission to court you was, more or less, him asking for your hand. You knew that all you're good for in Strabo Plinth 's eyes is match, so you always expected to be married off and young. Especially after Sejanus' death and Coryo taking his place as the Plinth heir. You just never thought that the man asking to court you would be somebody you’d like.
Honestly, you never thought in your wildest dreams that Coriolanus Snow would be the one asking for your hand; to court you. But he is and you're actually happy about it.
“Oh, I know so, Y/N.” Ma assured you with a warm smile. “The way he looks at you- oh, sweetheart, he already loves you.” Your Ma swooned.
“Ma, the cookies!” You exclaimed, smelling a hint of burning in the air.
Ma dropped your hands and rushed over to the stove, rambling about how she forgot all about the cookies- blaming her excitement over you and Coryo's good.news.as the reason for forgetting.
Tumblr media
Coriolanus didn't bother knocking when he entered Strabo Plinth's study. What he had to say was important, he didn't have time to knock. Not when your future with him was within reach.
Strabo Plinth and General Prometheus Byzantine were sitting on the large, overstuffed tan leather chairs tucked in the corner of the study- right in front of the large bookcase. They both looked up when the door opened, assuming that it was either Mrs. Plinth or you entering to serve them some tea, like a proper woman of District 2. Seeing Coriolanus walk in unannounced took both men by surprise.
The platinum blonde never came to see Strabo unless he was summoned or it was a night for one of the scheduled family dinners. And the General, well, he recognized Coryo as the boy you slammed a door in his face for. Your little friend that appeared in the hallway, who were all too excited to see.
Your father hand assured Prometheus that you didn't have friends, that the boy you were running off to was most likely just passing by or maybe dropping something off for him; that his heir and his daughter were in no way friendly with each other. That you might be throwing yourself at the boy in some misguided hope that you'll be kept in the Plinth Munitions loop, but that Coriolanus was a very ambitious young man with big dreams; had no time for your schoolgirl crush.
“Coriolanus, is there something you need, boy?” Strabo asked, looking at the platinum blonde as he marched across the study.
“Yea.” Coriolanus nodded. Pointing at General Byzantine, he told Strabo, “I want him to stop looking at Y/N like a piece of meat at the market. He might be your friend, but I won't put up with him making her uncomfortable with his lecherous looks.”
A cocky look appeared on the General's face as he told Coriolanus, “I can look at Miss Plinth anyways I want considering she's to be my wife at the end of the month.”
Coriolanus’ icy eyes burned with anger, his blood ran hit with hate, as he turned to Strabo and barked, “You can't marry her off to him! She belongs to me, I’m supposed to court her; marry her!”
Strabo let out a dark, sarcastic chuckle and shook his head. “I see my daughter's sunk her talons into you. What'd she do, spread her legs and guilt you into a proposal as a desperate attempt to get her hands on my company?”
Your father's remark pisses off Coryo. How could your Pa think so low of you. Think that you'd seduce him like some common whore, just to get a piece of the heirship? You're not that kind of girl. You're good and kind. A bit reserved and offish until you feel safe and comfortable enough to open up. Fuck, only the gods know how hard he's worked to get you to notice him; to trust him and open up.
“Strabo, you assured me that she's a virgin. We'll have to rediscuss the bridal price if she's been ruined.” General Byzantine told his old friend, acting as if Coriolanus wasn't even in the room.
Coryo wanted to strangle that old geezer general for the way he's talking about you. That motherfucker! He's not going to marry you and he's definitely not going to lay a single fucking finger on you. Coryo won't let that happen.
You're his!
His, his, his!
“You're both fucked up, talking about my darling like she's something to be traded. My girl's not for sale.” Coriolanus angrily spat before storming out of the study.
He’s going to get you from the kitchen and bring you home with him. You're not safe here.
And you won't be safe until he gets rid of Strabo; the General too.
But don't worry, he'll get rid of them soon. Because his girl’s not an Avox to be sold at auction. No, you're the girl who smells like blueberries, the girl that stole his heart without even trying, and you deserve nothing but the best. The best just happens to be him, the boy that smells like roses, who will kill with poison to keep you safe.
Tumblr media
Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3
54 notes · View notes
naffeclipse · 2 days
Note
I've been. cooking tigertaur!Eclipse thoughts big time. and the idea rolled around about an AU of Eclipse finding leopardtaur!Y/N and being like "you don't clean yourself properly, your hunting skills are poor, and you're so flighty you could be a hummingbird" and promptly pulling them under his wing (paws?). big brother and little sibling. Y/N spends the first couple of weeks fighting this off in panicked confusion but after being woken up by a gentle paw on their face and a fish dropped on them for breakfast they start to consider this is a good thing
alternatively human!Y/N with the sibling arguments being peak comedy. "I'm not taking advice from someone with only one pair of legs!" "well I only have one pair of shoulders and they're not fucked up!" - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon
Heya, babe!
OH! A dirty, scraggly, very lost leopardtaur!Y/N who has no idea what they're doing sounds delightful! They're anxious all the time and constantly jumping at the slightest noise! They're starving because they can barely nab some small birds, but that does not keep a leopardtaur going long. Of course, Eclipse had to take pity on them.
Eclipse eventually shows Y/N that what he's teaching them is invaluable and they might want to pay attention to see how best to stalk bigger prey like deer without making a sound. Eclipse helps Y/N groom at first before Y/N picks up how best to maintain their coat. He shows them how to hone their senses and sharpen their awareness of the life in the jungle, and how best to kill it with their deadly teeth.
When Y/N gets their first kill that's bigger than a measly big, he's very, very proud.
"You're getting there, kid." "I'm not a kid." "Sure." *licks their head*
Eventually, Y/N stops fearing the larger predator and begins sleeping soundly. Eclipse is glad for the company—he's glad that they're doing well and learning quick. He's even caught off guard one night when Y/N lays their spotted hide beside him and proceeds to snooze away.
I also love the squabbles Human Y/N and Eclipse could get into, considering their many differences XD The fact that taurs are doing with so many extra body parts is both weird and amazing, and compared to a little human without two legs is adorable!
63 notes · View notes
ideas-4-stories · 3 days
Note
Cross Guild Romance prompt: The three of them are together but they had hit the mother of all rough patches. Nothing major even happened between them to make they mad as each other, things are just not working right now, every little thing from each other sets them off. It's Mihawk's being too closed off, it's Crocodile being more of a jerk than usual, it's Buggy throwing tantrums over the smallest thing. They are on the verge of shattering when their crew intervenes, suggesting several different ways to get back to good including each of them taking some time apart for a week or so, like Crocodile go off to one island for a business deal while Mihawk and Buggy spend time together, then Mihawk go check on Kuraigana and Buggy and Crocodile clear the air between them a little, and the Buggy himself can head to another island to pick up new circus supplies while Mihawk and Crocodile learn to be in the same room together again. Once the trips are done, the hard part comes in actually sitting down together and talking to each other, and it's surprisingly Daz, who rarely says anything who acts as their mediator. It's through this kind of talk therapy that they get to the bottom of why things got so back between them. Mihawk is closed off because he's afraid of being betrayed again like he was all those years ago, which led him to becoming the Marine Hunter, Crocodile is acting like a mean jerk because he is basically self-sabotaging himself, feeling like he doesn't deserve Mihawk and Crocodile, and Buggy constantly angry because he feels like he'll lose the men he loves so dearly if he's not a perfect Chairman, and his inferiority complex is running wild because he can't believe men like Mihawk and Crocodile could actually love him. It all culminates in the three of them going to a nearby island together for a sort of vacation but still staying close enough to guard their home. They finally work things out, understand that theirs is a genuine love built to last, and that they are worthy of each other.
They are all too stubborn for their own good, like really too stubborn for their own good. It makes sense for them that it’s petty little things that nearly broke them up, I don’t know why but it does. Thank the gods for Das being the mediator, I really hope Daz gets a raise for this shit he has to do for his boss. Also thank the gods for the crew deciding enough is enough and helps the poor dumbasses to save their relationship. I wonder how many of the guild is in on calming their leaders down, I like to think it’s most or all.
Having one taking a break while the other two are dealing with each other is a brilliant idea!!! Because if all of them take a break, something bad might happen. So, if they are separated from each other, it would still be on Karai Bari Island, without talking to each other. So, I really like the idea with only one of them leaving and doing something outside of the island, makes sure that the island is safe from Marines or other enemy attack.
Basically, their problems are themselves, as well as the feeling of betrayal and/or losing others. It must have been a relief to sit down and talk about what’s going on. Love how they go on a vacation yet still is ready to protect their home. I really like this fic idea.
24 notes · View notes
ziracona · 2 years
Text
Love Norman so much. Heavy Rain was a trip to play the first time (affectionate). Can’t get over the combined hilarity and realism of the scene if you get the Under Arrest path where Norman is flipping out because the local police are literally brutalizing Ethan in interrogation to get him to confess and he tries to intervene and Blake puts a gun in his face so he storms over to the chief’s office and is like “YOUR LIEUTENANT IS TRYING TO BEAT A CONFESSION OUT OF MARS!!!” & the chief goes “ :33 yeah, so? Who cares he’s clearly guilty,” and Norman absolutely loses his mind and goes into his shitty little office and throws a chair because he hates it here so much and the police are fucking insane and terrible and every time he tries to follow the law he gets threatened by them or attacked, & then he calms down & goes “Ok u know what fuck you too I guess >:[ “ and straight up breaks a serial killing prime suspect out of the police station single handed because there’s just no other way to keep him from being beaten to death or false confession in a cell and also he thinks he didn’t do it probably or at least if he did that he’s telling the truth about being not in his right mind & can help, and the whole time poor Mars is so straight up out of it he doesn’t even know what the fucks going on and he’s just like ??? as he’s getting shepherded out fo the station by this fed that just had a fist fight 18 minutes ago with a cop in front of him, and he’s just like *so moved & so confused* “thank you?” & Jayden’s like ‘yeah sure thing; start running & don’t stop’ (I’m gonna lose my job 😬 ) and after that determinately Ethan doesn’t see Norman again once until the finale of the game when he’s one second away from being shot in the back until this same fed who literally busted him out of police lockup comes out of god damn nowhere to body slam the Origami Killer off him and chase them off screaming anyway Heavy Rain’s a fantastic game
#the chaos of that entire thing is so underrated like what the fuck was going on (incredibly loving)#heavy rain#Norman Jayden#Ethan Mars#how absolutely /feral/ Norman is is also so underrated like he’s not a rubber band about to snap the man has snapped a week ago#he’s a drenched piniata of human being. one of his own lines about himself is ‘I seem to spend most of my time getting the shit kicked out#of me’ and every person on the planet puts it on his gif sets Bc it’s that level of true#he loses it constantly while somehow being the only law character not to constantly enact horrific crimes#he’s had to hold himself back from literally murdering Carter Blake 8 times & I wish he’d just done it#he carries the whole investigation on his back and gets no respect. he chases the big bag - screaming - through a waste processing plant and#gets tv screens thrown at his head on a conveyor belt & just rolls with it#he has to do drugs to function. he’s going insane and can literally kill himself by working to hard in-game#he’s simultaneously easily the most skilled and most fucking disaster human in the game and yeah I’m including Ethan#*big bad#Norman is easily one of the most characters of all god damn time#every fight w Norman is the hardest fight in the game and you hit 100% of the controls right & you’re still losing the fight#he’s constantly dragging himself off the ground and getting the shit beat out of him. he’s slightly injured before game start. he flips off#rude drivers. he’s one of only two characters in the game who can say the word ‘Oragami’ correctly but he can’t accurately at ‘Killer’#he can get to the end and have the shit beat out of him right after saving Shaun w literally no context why this is happening & no idea who#the killer is — just bc he’s not the boy’s biological father like his POV he showed up saved a kid and suddenly he’s getting his ribs busted#on the ground while someone goes ‘can’t STAND you’re not his dad’ & he’s literally just like ‘wtf is going on’#what a man
190 notes · View notes
slippery-minghus · 6 months
Text
...
#really struggling with treating myself with any sort of respect right now. let alone the gentle care of my bedtime routine#i thought about putting myself to bed without my adaptive devices so i'd intentionally get a bad night's sleep but it isn't worth it#lmao and i've slept so badly the past two nights anyway i doubt tonight will be different#i really wanted to go dig out a razor but the marks from a month ago are still really obvious and it's gonna be hard enough hiding those#on my stupid fucking trip next week that i DONT want to go on#i'd so much rather spend those two weeks at home sleeping off burnout#but it's a stupid fucking Once In A Lifetime trip that has been something we've wanted to do for a fucking decade#and now that we're both real adults we can finally go but I DONT WANNA#i don't wanna be away from home that long!!! and miss the colors change outside my window!!!#and i don't wanna be away from maple!!! and i don't want my mom in my apartment stinking it up even though she's the best catsitting option#i don't want the disruption to my routine especially after how hellish work has been and how wrecked my routine already is#i dont wanna go spend two weeks so far away from home i can't even take my damn meds with me#and i cant fucking SIT WITH the hurt that the thing i FUCKED UP ON means *i* can't bring my fucking adderall EITHER#i don't even fucking know if A relies on taking it as much as i do#but i can only fucking feel the shame of letting them down!!!#i can't look past it and even begin to feel how MUCH I HATE MYSELF FOR LETTING *MYSELF* DOWN#BECAUSE I FUCKED UP#i just wanna sleep. forever.#i'm just gonna go away#personal#self harm tw
1 note · View note
Text
thinking about. starting a travel blog for when I’m in NZ
7 notes · View notes
lupismaris · 11 months
Text
Evil hell work week is over and i avoided going out to eat at a restaurant full of florescent lights and over attentive waiters time for taco bell left overs, beer, t shots, and a very long bath
6 notes · View notes
ilostyou · 1 year
Text
lallaaalalala just some things on my mind
#this has been a rant#<- in advance. im going off in the tags. xo#getting close to making a decision abt doctoral programs is STRESSING ME OUT even tho i think ik which i'll choose#one ik will be a good school environment and will be manageable but the other has much. better training and will prep me for#literally anything i could want to do with a whole ass doctorate afterwards when im licensed#next thing. i fucking hate that i have no clue what i look like objectively lmfao. losing weight is great and all (healthy) but#it's fucking with my idea of myself even more than it ever was bc. now it's a 'bad' thing that some things look big on me#(bc THEY FUCKING ARE lol) like today i ended up buying some clothes and yay great but like. my mom was like#yeah so you can wear these instead of what. ur wearing now bc that's gotten big on you etc#and im just ksjghdf it's just a little baggy and also i like it?? but ok whatevesjkdkfdhkh i like the. new ones too im juyst. ??#just in general there's always gonna be Something yknow? annoying. anyway#next thing is that im away w family rn and lovemy fam love spending time with them but it;'s been TWO DAYS and im already#losing......so much patience with some people like. my younger cousins. im. GRR.and i love having some other people around#but we're meeting up w the rest of our group tom and we'll basically be DOUBLE in size for the next week plus and im so#nervous that i'm already at my last nerve with everyone adn that i'll be too overwhelmed/tired/etc that i won't enjoy the rest of the trip#next thing is that it's WILD graduation is literally in six weeks but so mmuch has to happen before then it's making me dizzy#other side note thing im beyond excited to see taylor and have weird anxiety about it but meh. im fucking PUMPED#another thing. it's someones bday tomorrow who ive had a Rough year with (ive mentioned stuff abt them before) and it's just. weird feeling#i dont rem if they even texted me for my bday now im curious im gonna go look lmfao but. obv i'll text them anyway#it's just ... lots of weird feeling thinking abt how much has changed in a year with them. shrug#ok maybe that's it woo
2 notes · View notes
spiritofjustice · 2 years
Text
Get to go the art museum tomorrow lads
3 notes · View notes
madigoround · 3 months
Text
I’m literally just venting below to get it out of my head feel free to ignore
#my great aunt who was previously diagnosed with leukemia like three weeks ago was emergency intubated today and is on 100% oxygen#and yesterday my grandma had told her that she needed to spend a few days back home to rest because she had been at my great aunts bedside#for the last two weeks straight and my great aunt was guilting her super hard about taking some time to rest and come back to va#so yesterday I was really angry at my great aunt because my grandma got off the phone with my great aunt and was just sobbing for like an#hour and wouldn’t accept that none of this is her fault and she shouldn’t feel guilty#and my grandma was saying how we’re going to make a schedule so that everyone has a turn to go down there so she’s not alone#and i was trying to think about how I was going to go down there and be supportive even though I’m really angry at her for guilting my#grandma for not being there every second of the day when my grandma has HER OWN cancer that my great aunt has never once tried to care for#her because of and then this morning (literally during my first Pap smear by the way lol) I start getting a crap ton of texts#that my great aunt was emergency intubated and her lungs are like entirely being operated by the ventilator and I feel bad cause for a#minute I was relieved because my grandma said she’s completely sedated and won’t know if anyone is there or not so she was going to take a#few days to rest and wasn’t going to rush down there#and then a few minutes later she got off the phone with my great aunts doctor and he was saying she’s in critical#condition and that they’re doing a scope test to see how it went bad so fast and that they think with chemo over the last few days that they#may have gotten rid of the leukemia but that her lungs are filling up with some sort of fluid and won’t operate on their own#and on top of that yesterday my uncle (separate from my great aunt) was driving drunk on his way to work (at 4 am) and got sideswiped by a#truck who then drove away and my uncle refuses to call the police or the insurance because he had a ton of open alcohol in the car and#wouldn’t pass a breathylizer and his car needed to be towed and he had some sort of midlife crisis and bought said 45000 dollar truck#earlier in the year could he pay for that? no he couldn’t so he borrowed some from his retirement to help make the payments#and now my aunt (grandmas daughter) is struggling because of this and they’re going through a real hard time financially#and all of this is very stressful on my grandma and I can’t do anything to help I keep calling people asking if they need anything if theyre#alright and I have absolutely no idea how I’m feeling I feel like I’ve spun that children’s feelings wheel and the arrow has landed on half#the board somehow lol#I’m scared that my great aunt is going to die and I’m angry at her for telling my grandmother she made it worse by leaving and I feel guilty#for being angry at someone who might be dying and I feel guilty because I am sick of this being on egg shells what’s going to happen next#and I’m scared for my grandma who has her own health issues and is making the trip back to Florida to go be with my great aunt and won’t be#back for three weeks and I can’t protect anyone#I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
0 notes