#her being stubborn and not complying with anything he says

[uglypastels]

I was about to say that it would be so cute if someone wrote an au based on A Life Less Ordinary and then I realised that Not Wholly Evil is a slightly more dramatic pirate version of that exact story 🤙 my brain works in mysterious ways

#a guy kidnaps a wealthy mans daughter for a ransom #just to fall in love with her #her being stubborn and not complying with anything he says #and then falling in love with him #only thing thats missing is guardian angels

[millerscoffee]

dancing is a dangerous game | part one

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars.

5.5k | joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

tw: brief mentions of using your body for trading purposes, you shoot at joel miller????, light dub-con but that goes away quickly

warnings: post-outbreak au. no ellie. angsty smut, semi-dom!reader and dom!joel so that's fun, power struggle, age gap (joel is 56, reader is late 20s or early 30s), enemies to lovers, voyeurism (f watching m), masturbation (m and f), pet names/degrading names (baby, honey, darlin', brat, bitch, slut, etc.), dirty talk, choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, spanking, p in v (unprotected - wrap it up folks), joel is mean but not unkind. no use of y/n.

summary: inspired by "cowboy by me" by our lord and savior taylor swift. this is a post-outbreak world and joel has his own land. think bill, but a little less... deranged. kind of. you essentially are a raider, but make it fashion. when you stalk joel's cabin for the third day, that's when you get interrogated by none other than joel miller himself.

A/N: hi, i'm bee! this is my first fic on tumblr, and my first stab at this whole stratosphere. longtime listener; first time caller 💅. i was ALSO inspired by an ask i saw on @swiftispunk's page (hi! i love your writing sm??) and kinda just... ran with it. i honestly wasn't anticipating writing stuff during the outbreak, so i apologise if it's not quite right. imagine me living during that time with a tube of lipgloss and one (1) bullet in my pocket just in case. this... may be a series. i don't know yet. see ya! enjoy!!!

The first time you meet Joel Miller is down the barrel of your gun.

You can hear your father's voice telling you 'Back out, girl. Don't get too big for your britches.' Look where that got him. His ashes against your chest in a makeshift pendant necklace, buried by your clothes.

Still, you listen.

"It don't have to be like this," you drawl with index over the trigger guard. You've heard of him. Joel Miller. He's notorious, and even though you've kept to yourself most of your life, his name still roamed throughout the abandoned towns you passed. Someone always owed him, and he always owed somebody.

Your dad would've been older than him, but not by much. You knew of the world before this, was just a little thing. Still, you heard stories undulate from your father's southern voice that mostly left you bored on long days searching for food or shelter. You'd give anything to hear them now.

Part of you died when he did.

You were young when the outbreak happened. Resourceful, your father made it work in raising you. Taught you how to fend for yourself, rely on no one. Which was no easy feat considering how unbelievably stubborn you were. Were? Are.

Maybe he loved you. Maybe it was the chip on his shoulder. The kind of anguish that comes from not being able to give your mother the same kind of life. A promise to her.

Yes, you were young when the outbreak happened, but flashbacks of her getting attacked by a clicker burn you alive at night.

"Y'er on my land." A gruff voice calls you back to reality. Few words for someone who held your life in his hands. His own gun pointing back at you. Of course it would be.

"I was just passin' through." The lie flies through your teeth. You had been circling the place from a reasonable distance for a few days now. Scoping out when this man in front of you was his busiest, when he patrolled, when he slept. This was a heist situation, no doubt about it.

"Bullshit. This s'the third fuckin' time I seen you 'round here. And it's y'er last."

Shit. Fucking shit.

Your eyes dart to the side, really trying to pattern a plan in escaping but your breathing would say otherwise as calm and collected as it was.

In any other situation, you wouldn't be so willing to comply, but considering he's got you cornered and his gun is quite literally cocked and ready to go – you're not exactly in the position to make hasty decisions.

Goddammit if there wasn't something about him that made you nervous.

"Listen. Just was lookin' for somewhere to sleep. It's fuckin' cold and your stables look warm." Your head tilts in the direction of a lone horse's home in a bed of hay, and you're not fully lying. It's not that you have set up camp by any means, but you've noticed.

"We could trade. You give me y'er ammo, and I g–"

"You give me your cock, I get it. You really could be more original." You were used to this. Bartering, some might call it. Living out here on your own was dangerous, and running into men who wanted to use your body in order to get supplies wasn't that uncommon. If they were that kind, even. You'd heard the horror stories.

Albeit, most of these men met your gun in the end. Enabling you acquire their supplies, keep all yours, and your dignity. Win/win.

"...I give you the pleasure of livin' another day. Really? Y'think it's that easy?"

There was something in the way Joel says this that makes you grateful for the jacket you're wearing. Goosebumps prickle your skin, bile creeping up your throat and you will it back down again. Y'think it's that easy? As if he thought you wanted it.

If circumstances were different, you'd be rubbing the crimson off your cheeks. Flashing him a sheepish grin in an attempt to resolve whatever misunderstanding there was... but this wasn't the environment to elicit such conversation.

And you weren't that type of person to begin with.

Instead, your index sweeps from guard to trigger when you fire off at his leg. Hasty decisions be damned. You're quicker than him, so why're you tryin' to save him? You're a 'shoot to kill' type of person, and as the bullet grazes past his calf – part of you wishes you had.

Because not only did your bullet not make contact, Joel gets worse. You two lock eyes. His rifle is thrown over his shoulder as he grunts and walks perfectly fine over to you – despite the way his eyebrows knit together, jaw ticked. Was that a grin? Do something, anything – run.

Joel grips the nape of your neck, and you yelp in surprise.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

His large hand eclipses your wrist as he maneuvers the gun from your hand. The action makes you writhe in pain, and it sends a shiver down your spine to know he's only using an ounce of his power.

You dig your elbow into his ribs despite him stronger than you. Stomping, kicking, punching anything you can find.

"What the fu–"

"Little girl, you picked the wrong one." His breath edges at the shell of your ear, and every sign should be pointing for you to hate this, but it almost feels familiar. Like yourself. It's only then when you worry.

---

You don't realise it, but Joel is pushing you inside his cabin. Keeping your head in direction of the ground, thud of the door heard somewhere behind you.

"You want to be treated like a big girl? Get these fuckin' pants off."

"What... what? No I'm fuckin' not–"

Joel chews up the space between you when he pushes you to the nearest wall. Your back at his chest, a cheek flush against the cabin's support.

Pine, tobacco, and whiskey fill your senses and you bite back the urge to whimper. He wouldn't see you like that.

"You're not? That why you were watchin' me jerk off last night? 'Cuz you don't wanna give it up?"

That alone makes blood creep up your neck and spill over your cheeks. You have to squeeze your legs together to quell the ache.

It was lonely on your own.

Most nights were spent half asleep on a cold, hard surface. Tired and hungry more days than not. You don't remember the last time you got a hot meal, much less been touched. So when you heard Joel's low grunts coming from the window (a window from a cabin you don't know quite yet that he built with his own hands) you become intrigued.

It's in this moment you're certain it must have been the rustling of branches just outside his room. You remember it happening last night, cursing to yourself for making noise. His fist stalled around the girth of his fat cock before spilling his seed over his stomach. As if that is what caused him to come.

It makes sense now, and it equally causes you to become dizzy and filled with rage. You bite your bottom lip, unable to think of a response.

"Mouthy thing ain't got much to say now. Now c'mon. I ain't taking these off you, doin' it y'erself." More of a warning, Joel lets up on his grip on you, but you're defenseless. No weapons, no pack. He's got your world in his hands.

With the newly found space between the two of you, you turn around – back of your head against the wall as your eyes find the other set for, perhaps, the first time. And they're deep. Deeper than you were aware of. Dark, impossibly round. Wrinkles reside on the sides of them, and if you knew any better, you wouldn't admit they were doing something to you.

But not only are you stubborn, you're too forthright to beat around the bush.

"I shot at you, and you want my cunt? You must be lonelier than I a–"

"Now."

Your words don't match your actions as your hands fall by your sides. Fingers play with zipper of your old, faded jeans that have seen better days.

You can't help but snicker an awkward laugh from how he's just watching you. Insecurities rise when you realise you're not laughing at him, but more his eyes on you. How intense it feels suddenly. He wants this. Wants you.

His eyes draw impatiently, broad frame leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"Ain't got all day. Still considerin' your death."

His arms. Bulging through the fabric of his shirt, his body was built in a way that you could tell he worked with his hands... maybe in his past life, too. Throat dry, you shimmy out of your pants until you're left in your cotton panties.

Ones that you are becoming more aware the condition of. A small pool of wetness forming at the core of you clings to the fabric.

"Top, too."

Is that? It is. Your eyes wander down to see the growing bulge in Joel's pants. Not even the hem of his flannel could hide it. Sure, you'd seen it in its full form the night before, but that was with distance and without the heat rising between the two of you.

You bite your lip without hesitation, pulling the layers of jacket and a handful of tops onto the ground until you're bare. The cool air passes over your nipples and wills them into stiff peaks.

"Ain't you somethin', baby."

That's the first time Joel Miller draws a shaky exhale out of you. All from a single sentence.

When Joel steps over to you, that calm and collected breath is nowhere to be found. Your chest rises and falls at a random pattern, feeling more and more naked by the second as his clothes are completely kept on his body. A purposeful tactic.

He bends down to collect your clothes along with everything else that yours, and you are truly at his will. So busy on the precipice of pleasure that you don't even think about trying to get away.

"Stay."

"Ain't a dog." You glare, standing with your legs brushing together.

"Then quit actin' like a bitch. And quit movin', I'm gettin' to you."

It shuts you up quick, jaw snapping shut. You're certain if he told that to anyone else they'd be reduced to tears, but you can take it. It coils a heat inside the pit of your stomach that you've never felt. Causes your clit to feel as if it's on fire from the need to touch it.

Joel turns on his heel to walk away and it's as if you're able to breathe fresh air from the humidity he brings. You notice he's putting your things and his rifle away on his kitchen counter before coming back to you. He must really trust his ability to keep everything out like that.

Then again, have you even moved in the last five minutes?

The last thing he is, is worried.

You're able to look around, if only for a moment. Though, is it really looking? Your adrenaline is pumping, pupils blown from the fact that not only are you in the house you'd been stalking... you're about to fuck the man in it. And you almost tried to kill him. You definitely didn't miss on purpose. Couldn't have.

All the same, the cabin was nice, and you could take in briefly the light wood – old and weathered. A record player in the corner beside a guitar. This stuff could get you a lot in return, but for whatever reason that doesn't even cross your mind. Maybe your heart beating in your ears is a handy distraction to keep you walking the line.

Your eyes track the rugged man instead.

---

"Here's how this is gonna go," he announces, coming back to you and not phased that you haven't moved a muscle. "You are gonna take your ass over there on the couch. You're gonna make me come, then you're gonna go. Understand?"

"Well... I guess it is that easy."

Your bratty mouth getting you in trouble again. As if you're in the position to say anything. Naked as you are.

---

Joel's jaw ticks forward in a way that makes you feel fear, yet there's a direct correlation between it and the slick gathering between your folds. The same wide hand that gripped the nape of your neck wraps around the front of your throat while he pushes you against the wall, and your shoulders slump – all but folding instantly.

His mouth is inches from yours, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Listen here. I've been real kind to you. Coulda killed ya day one, tryin' to steal my shit like that. Was gonna be real kind in where I fucked ya, too. Now we're gonna fix that mouth a'yours and fast. Knees. Now." You soon come to know this isn't a suggestion. It's not even a warning. It is what's happening.

It's in the way Joel's hands guide you down onto your knees. He goes for his belt and you hear and see that distinct clang of metal untangle before your very senses. Your mouth waters instantly, teetering into fully giving into this struggle of power.

Joel's hands are calloused. You can tell he takes care of them, but that doesn't hide the wear and tear. Specifically on his fingertips. They grip your jaw roughly, and you choke back a moan as your mouth hangs open pliantly from this. Every nerve ending buzzing to be touched.

"Where'd that bratty girl go, huh? You done bein' big and bad – wanna be a slut, don’tcha?"

Your eyelash splay along your cheeks as you nod, and you feel his grip tighten, tugging your chin up higher.

"Look at me. You want this cock? I need your words. Tell me you wanna be a slut."

You're not sure when it happens, but hot tears run down your cheeks as everything comes to a head. Your body is trembling with raw desire right at your fingertips, just within reach. You can't hold back anymore, it physically hurts to.

"I wanna be a slut for this cock... please."

"Fuck, even a please. Oughta eat you out for that, sugar. Maybe next time."

Your brain is swimming at the thought. Next time?

With his free hand, Joel sets his cock free from his jeans, giving a satisfying smack to his abdomen quickly. No need for another piece of fabric keeping him from getting what he wants as you soon take note he isn't wearing boxers.

There's no denying what you're met with as you get to view it from this close. Joel Miller has a pretty cock. There's a soft, but bulging vein on the underside to match how big and thick it is. The rosy tip greets you, and it's the first time you get to see how much you've turned him on.

Your mouth is drooling while it's pried open and meets the tip of him. A moan from you is instantaneous, yet feels so distant from yourself, it doesn't affect you until much later. The taste of his precum coats your tongue as he slips past your lips and it's all you can experience. Your moans slip in and out of the sloshing sounds of your mouth. Keeping your hands by your sides, you don't tempt to touch him in fear he would pull away, so instead you twirl your tongue around his leaking head. Bob your head up and down in a slow, but sultry rhythm that causes him curse under his breath. He's not stoic above you, he's reacting.

He's clawing for every last bit of the upper hand.

"S'a lot, innit, babygirl? That's alright, you can take it." It's then you can sense Joel's guard slipping. Could be the fact that your mouth is suctioned perfectly around the length of his cock, but his voice gets damn sweeter the longer you go like this. His hips also have no problem in thrusting shallowly every now and then to knock the drool off of your dripping chin.

Even if you could form a thought, you don't know you would.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it out of your face as you maintain eye contact. Intuitive in your approach, he told you to look at him earlier, so maybe he likes it? The groans filling the room lead you to believe you are correct. It feels so removed from who you were moments before: snickering because his gaze felt intimidating. Now, his pupils are blown as they pour into yours and his neck hangs back when your mouth makes those pretty, sloppy popping noises – testing your gag reflexes as you will them to relax.

It's way more intimate than anything you've ever done with anyone you've ever been with, and this stranger is pulling it out of you. Within the mess your brain is in, you remind yourself if you want to stop you can, and not a bit of you does.

The hot tears that were once down your cheeks swell in your eyes once more, but this time from the sheer size of him. You moan vibration after vibration against him, shifting and pushing your cunt against your calf, thigh – anything to feel some sort of friction.

He lets out a growl when he notices you, "Honey, if it's that bad, touch yourself." If your cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

It's him calling you out, slight embarrassingly, but not letting up with his hips. It's the way the embarrassment builds the fire in the pit of your belly. It's your hand pushing inside your panties at the sound of his command. And it's you practically choking on his cock from the gasp you let out through your nose – stunned at how wet you are.

Your fingertips barely brush over your clit when you notice the slick collecting, bubbling right at the very top of your slit and slutty moans fall out of you. Your eyelids droop as you try to keep your gaze up to Joel, but the way your fingertips roll over the hood of your clit in satisfying circles sends you over the edge way quicker than you anticipate.

"Shit, baby. Just like that. You filthy thing, can't hold off another minute longer, can ya? Need it right fuckin' now."

The sound of Joel's deep voice looms overhead as you come completely undone.

Unable to stop yourself, the suction on his cock pops free for a moment. Your moans hitting the air as your eyes roll back. Your body rushing to find each wave of pleasure roll off your back. Joel's cock still nestled in your mouth, but his hips still. "Goddamn, look at that little slut come out. Such a needy fuckin' kitten."

When Joel makes sure you've ridden it out, he pulls his cock from your mouth. Your body feels weak despite how eager your mind is now, face-to-face with Joel's cock, you watch as his scarred hand glides your saliva over his length entirely. It puts you in a trance, quickly getting out of it when he taps his cock against your cheek. "Pretty kitten want this? C'mon."

If your moans felt foreign to you, you don't even know what to do with yourself at the twinge of a grin that spreads on your face. The sheer audacity of his taps right against your fucking cheek. Orgasm-drunk, you shuffle to your feet and Joel has no problem in tossing you – finally – to the couch.

Your back is to him while the front of your body brackets the width of his couch, arms hunched over the back of it, knees dig into the cushions. You're grateful for the lack of eye contact in this position as it gives you a moment to press your face into your bicep, an attempt to collect yourself. But all of it obsolete when you sense Joel's presence at your ass.

His body heat unmistakable to miss. You bite at your own skin, neck craning to behind you to watch him.

"Shit, darlin', look at you. Ass up like this like y'er in fuckin' heat for me." You whine at the fact his clothes are still mostly on, and you know he must be sweating underneath them, but he won't give it to you like that. Not yet, 'maybe next time'. "You know I can't go any further 'til you get a spankin'. Need to be punished for tryin' to hurt me like that. For tryin' to take my things. Ain't right. Need you to learn your lesson."

Where are you? A part of you knows this is a tactic. That Joel is lulling you into a position you can't say no to. It already shows itself in how you're splayed on his couch. Yet, you can't find the person you were before you stepped into the cabin. Not yet, not like this. You nod weakly, and Joel swipes the cotton undies down to your thighs so quickly the rush of air cools the heat of your folds. A flutter runs through you.

"Count. To ten. If you don't, we start over. Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes... sir. Yes sir."

A searing, mind-numbing spank wallops over your ass and it causes your hips to jut forward. Whimper hitting the top of your throat, you almost, almost, forget to count. Everything in your senses distracting you from completing the simplest tasks such as fucking counting.

"O-one." Another. "Twooo." And again. "Th-three!"

You start sniffling by the third smack of his wide hand, and you hear mocking sniffs behind your head. "Aww, pretty baby can't take the hurt she tries to give to others? That must be really tough. Y'heart's bleedin' all over my couch, honey."

Your cheeks burn, you really feel sorry for what you've done. Or at least, what you were planning to do.

The next spank leaves a welt of Joel's handprint across your skin. "FOUR!" Your body begins to feel weak, sliding against the couch, you know talking back is useless as you silent tears stream into your arm.

There are six more blinding slaps to your ass by the time he's done with you, and you feel him pull back when he's through. You imagine him wringing his palms, the roughness of them. You begin to wonder if that's how they got to be so weathered, and pretend not to be weirded out by the ache of jealousy.

"Y'know for somebody whinin' the whole time, your pussy is just droolin' from that," any narrative you wandered off with disappears in its replacement of Joel's fingers gathering slick between your folds. No announcement, just go. It was just within reach, feeling him inside you. You ride the shudder your body makes, licking your lips as you realise the unspoken rule is free and you can speak. "N-need it. Need your cock, please... please." "Need it, and you don't even know my name?" His index and middle finger waste no time in pressing into your aching core. Sounds of your wailing mix with his words as he lurches over, lip close to your ear. "Or maybe you do already."

"Please, please, please," your fingertips grip for the worn fabric of his couch while your hips that try to jut back are quickly halted by his other palm, a strong stopper at the base of your spine. "Not 'til you tell me my name." "I-I don't know. I don't know it, I swear." Joel's thick fingers slip completely out of you and you mewl pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing and he can see every last detail of it behind you. "Last fuckin' time, better tell me the truth." "It's Joel," you cry, hips pushing back against the resistance as much as possible. Anything to be filled again. "Joel. Joel. Joel. I was... I was– I don't know anybody. Not with anybody, I swear! Joel, I swear. Please! Just grew up hearin' your name. I swear on my life, Joel, please! I know I lied, didn't think you'd believe me."

You don't know why you're begging like your life depends on it, but your pleasure surely does, and there's a longer pause than you want lingering behind you. As if you can palpably feel Joel contemplating whether you're being truthful or not. But if there's one thing about you, aside from this moment in this compromising position: you don't answer to anybody.

Joel's cock bottoming out inside of you at the drop of a hat is confirmation enough that he believes you.

And you not only wail, but scream at the stretch and irresistible contact that punches you straight to your gut – right where you can feel the tip of him. Half-moon prints dig into your hips by his short fingernails when he grabs ahold of you and you're on your forearms, head hanging between your shoulders. Your panties keep your thighs straying too far apart if there is such a thing.

"This what you wanted when you watched me?" Joel grips your torso now, pulling you closer to him as you become more upright, his cock more accessible to the spongy spot inside of you and your nipples stand erect, eyes rolling back as it takes all of you not to rest your head back against his shoulder, and you fail. Hard. Your occiput makes contact with his shoulder. Joel brushes your hair back to the side, lips graze but never fully touches the column of your neck. "Thought about this tight cunt last night. Left the window open on purpose, but you knew that already, didn't you, pretty girl? Clever little thing and so fuckin' dirty."

Joel's hand snakes around the front of you, spreading your folds as he dives his fingers over your glossed-over clit your wetness claimed and that sends a whine off of your depraved lips. "That's it, honey. Show me what this cock does to ya. Makes you downright brainless from how well you take it." While his skilled fingers, toy with your clit, the other set of digits graze over your breasts on their way up to your mouth. You take them inside the warmth of your wet mouth easily, rolling your tongue over the digits until you can only focus on the white hot pleasure beginning to boil over. You keep his fingers between your teeth, a faint realisation that you can taste yourself on them. That's what does it.

His hips are relentless as they pound into you, the repetitious slaps of his skin against yours, of his balls tapping your cunt again and again sends you into a place that he knows you're approaching when you tighten and pulse.

"Y'know how tight and wet you feel around me, darlin'? Never had a fuckin' cunt like this. Let it out, let it out, just like you wanna. Just like you did last night around your fingers. Nothin' like this cock though, and you know it now, don't you? Oh, fuck yeah– thaaat's it. Look at you." "Joel... Joel!!!" Joel talks you through it, sending your body diving off the cliff that is your second orgasm. The undeniable gush of your fluids around his cock. His name stays stuck at the your tongue, the constant thud of it vibrates your lungs.

It starts at the attention on your clit. The raw bundle of nerves send signals outward as it spreads down your legs, up your stomach, to your nipples and down your spine. Your brain feels effervescent, toes curl, and it comes back again right to your heart. Your beating heart, wild, and every moan, whimper, scream that comes from you sounds like it is from someone else's chest. But it's yours, and you know that when you start to feel hazy, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

"Good for my cock after all. Ain't ya, baby? Shit."

Your torso leans forward while your cheek rests on the top of your hand that's gripped on Joel's couch, and your body is relaxed and fucked. Comfortably silent, just the way Joel would want you. His cock slips out of you, unable to stop the slew of grunts and groans that acts as an anchor to keep you from slipping under. You lick your lips, looking back at him with a nod, unable to stay silent for long. That struggle of power coming back for vengeance. "That's right. Come all over this ass you ruined. See those handprints? Dirty fucking man, you just met me. Show me how much you enjoyed doing that."

That's as far as you get when you feel the heavy streams of his hot, white come rope over your skin, and for someone who is no position to be smug, you sure do have a shit-eating grin on your face. Pure, and the simplest thing the two of you accomplish.

Joel shakes his head, shallow breaths become him as he staggers back and you pretend not to notice. "Gonna kill me, kid."

"Almost did."

---

You don't know why, but neither of you hold the promise of you leaving right away. You linger, both of you half naked and spent. You take your time cleaning yourself off, slipping your clothes back on. Day becoming night.

You tiptoe into the living room where Joel is unfurled on his couch. His eyes are closed, the back of his head inches away from where the two of you just had sex.

Planning your goodbye, you sit at the edge of the couch cushion, knowing he wasn't really asleep. Just restin' his eyes.

"I am sorry...," you finally say into the dimly lit room, pangs of annoyance fizz at your tongue for even apologising. For shooting him, for trying to steal from him. All of it.

It's not his fault. It's just how you are.

This is dichotomous in relation to your eyes. They're bleary when a yawn pulls deep from within you. As if rest had been climbing up to the surface this entire time.

"Maybe you should be apologisin' 'bout your shitty aim. Could teach you a thing or two." Joel's eyes remained closed, arms crossed. If you could let yourself experience this, you would notice how soft he looks in this moment. Instead, your stomach is recoils in fight or flight.

You're glad he can't see you swallow the knot in your throat.

There was no magical solution for your life, and a part of you wishes you hadn't chosen his cabin to raid. You wish you hadn't met him, because now you could feel yourself want to notice the small things in him. Already.

You felt it dangerous to let anything that close to you.

You scoff to play it off, giving his chest a light shove and very accidentally getting lost in the light landscape of hairs that resides at the top of his flannel. "I could teach you a thing or two." A pathetic response for a pathetically spent human.

"We could both teach each other," he resigns and you're grateful he doesn't point out your lack of wit for how worn out he's made you. Perhaps the smugness settles in the things he doesn't say. Really, it's in what Joel spouts off next that throws you upside down.

"S'why you should stay. One month. That's it."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't stuttered," your eyes roll and somehow, despite Joel's own being shut, he tuts his teeth. "Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl. You need a place to sleep. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Way I see it, best offer you've had in a while. Got a shelf life, though. Don't like to wait."

A part of you is suspicious, and if this man didn't make sure you orgasmed twice, you would suspect yourself to be dead within a matter of minutes.

There's something true about him, though. You're unwilling to look at it directly, but you trust him.

"Fine."

"Gonna need clearer confirmation, darlin'. Really need you to want this if you're gonna stay with me." He knew exactly where to press.

"Fuck, I shoulda killed you when I had the chance. I want to stay with you. One month." You try to ignore the grit between your teeth as speak, but your shoulders eventually soften. And you really do mean it. It's just... you're hardened from years of misplaced trust.

Your hand goes to the pendant around your neck subconsciously.

Joel either doesn't notice, or gives you the space.

You're grateful either way.

"That's that, then."

If anyone could understand the concept, it's Joel.

"That's that."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou fic #by bee #dancing is a dangerous game

[hobiebrownbrowser]

General Touches

Earth-42 miles x stubborn FEM!reader

Context: The relationship between you and Miles is rocky but suitable. Wanting to be by each other's side but not knowing how to say without sounding desperate.

"Mild fluff" kissing, cuddling etc, nothing too 18+

Summary: 2 prowlers were already enough to take out one person.

Context: purple means Miles, Red means the Red Prowler(AKA Y/N=You)

Bad Spanish = blame google translate 💀

"Eyes on the target mami. Not on me." The girl groaned. Not being able to look at something so delicious was frustrating she wouldn't admit it though. Mechanical claws digging into the apartment building below her before leaping to another.

There "it" stood. A filthy rich man with a bunch of hypocrites by his side. She wanted to just lunge forward. Wanting to cut the white men's head clean off. But she couldn't. Not with a certain Upper stage watching further above her.

"Tell me why you're here again?" The question left bare as the target's movement changes. This was a one time opportunity. The last one she had to prove herself with fucking up this time. Her suit pulling back to reveal a sparkling red dress.

"Te ves espectacular mami." (You look amazing mami.)

"Piss off." She didn't let the prowler speak longer than it should, Fixing up her makeup before effortlessly climbing down the tall building. He'd have to teach her how to appreciate company, but maybe on a different timeline.

It didn't take long for her to go through the back entrance, Acting as if she was invited to the blood stained met gala. It left a demeanor touch but she was definitely the best dressed. The other women wearing cheap dresses that look like they came from the local thrift store nearby.

It was a fresh insight on not having to do the dirty work, Watching the well-dressed woman make her way towards the target with a hidden camera attached to her. She was a professional, seducing the man to let her stay by his side.

The white male agreed, only wanting her for her body and nothing more. It was sickening. He could treat her better, way better if she'd just give him a chance. But she was a stubborn brode woman to say the least, Dismissing his presence like he wasn't there in the first place.

He watches for any signs of discomfort, Face frowning in disgust as he watches the dead beat put his hands on what he wanted. He wanted to cut off his fingers one by one until nun were left, Watching him slowly bleed for touching what he wanted.

Yet he was infatuated, Often staring at her curves or a tight dress that perfectly shaped her. She was perfect and he wanted one night to fulfill her needs, Knowing she has many she hasn't had the chance to explore yet, At least not with him.

The sounds of shuffling were clear, The male leading her somewhere. It was showtime for him. Thinking of what she might do to him for the time being. It was sickening to think about, but he wasn't alarmed. He wanted to watch his 'chica' do the unthinkable.

The screen had gone black. Not before hearing a blood-gurgling scream after. Music to his ears that the bastard was finally dead and Miles could get his money, And his' Chica' back to his side. He watched as she simply walked back out from where she entered. Her suit complying with her body as she climbs up the paint chipped wall towards him.

The two glanced at each other for a brief moment, The red prowler not saying anything and just walking away. She was a stubborn woman indeed, But Miles was just as stern, Following the lady back to her payment.

"Are you gonna keep followin me all day?

"It depends." Miles short answer seemed to aggravate her, finally turning around and facing him. Her eyes narrowing. The top of her lip curving upwards until she rolled her eyes.

"¿Qué diablos quieres de mí, Miles?" (What the hell do you want from me Miles?)

"You to open up." His flat answer made her chuckle a bit, her face back to a dead monotone stare, Arms crossed and chin up peering into the exact same eyes she had. He loved how straightforward she was, But her mind was thinking of something else, as the silence grows louder.

Miles knew she was scared of close relationships. What happened to her family was her business but he got her to tell some of it to him, he was grateful that his partner was finally opening up. The relationship was rocky, but somehow it worked. It just did.

The silence was interrupted by a close line, Her work done for today as they both head home. The silence getting thicker every step they both took. But it was a calming period. Finally being able to wind down for tonight.

Y/N had gotten lost in thought, wanting nothing more but to feel Miles arms around her as they sleep the rest of the night away. If she wasn't so afraid she could say it without hesitation. But her mind always betrayed her thinking. Often getting in the way of what she really wanted.

"Estas bien princesa?" (What's wrong princess?) Why was he so nice to her even know she treated him like crap? Asking her how her day has been just to get no answer. He was patient. She hates how he spoiled her, His compliments melting her heart everytime.

"I'm fine."

"dime qué te pasa mami." (Tell me what's wrong mommy) She sighed before contemplating if she should tell him how she really felt, Deciding to tell him once they got home. Miles expected no less. Telling her not to back out once they get through the door. She swatted him away, knowing damn well it's gonna be a rocky explanation.

//\\

She wasn't ready for this, Feeling her heart beating out of her chest as Miles unlocks their apartment door. His hand placed on her hip to stop her from running off somewhere. She felt as if something was stuck in her throat.

The sound of beeping erupted her thoughts from the door opening, Her throat becoming dry. She felt her chest heaving heavily more than normal. Watching Miles intertwine his fingers with hers. She wanted to shake him off and disappear. Being led inside and straight towards the couch.

She stood in front of Miles who was sitting on the couch. Waiting.

"Dime mi amor." (Tell me my love.) She groaned, practically begging Miles to not make her do this. But he only raised a brow, his face inches away from hers. She loved the way he was gentle with her. Often pulling her in for unexpected small kisses.

"Necesito una bebida." (I need a drink.) Miles stopped her, Pulling her onto his lap as he looks at Y/N dead in her eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her waist just to trap her. She'd fallen into the hands of a gentle cuddly predator. Closing her eyes and finally giving in to some of her desires. Miles listening to every word she has to say.

It felt like a long night, the two getting things off their chests as it hits 2AM. He could tell she was getting sleepy. Her eyelids having a hard time staying open as she lays her head down on his chest.

He kisses her forehead, Feeling her flinch before relaxing in his arms. Finally giving into the night.

"te amo mi hermosa princesa." (I love you my beautiful princess)

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #prowler miles fanfic #into the spider verse #the prowler #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles #miles morales 42 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 #42 miles morales #miles 42 #miles morales prowler #miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles

[slickfordain]

“Fontaine is coming out!”

Me: 😦😀😚🥰🦥 (rip storage)

GN!readerxNeuvillette, mentions of detailed gore, Yandere-themed, based off of Veil manga (EmmaxAlexander)

“Rest, my dear, you must be feeling ill.”

Neuvillette— a man known for punishment and laws, a man who would do anything to keep his beloved safe— which is, fortunately, you. [Name] [Last name], a member in Fontaine— a lovely little fellow who’d just sit back and relax, eating biscuits and make yourself look beautiful/handsome (or just pretty if you prefer). And, dear me do I say, Neuvillette is completely smitten by you as much as he’d love to deny it.

He was in your soft cozy bedroom where you owned some few fairy lights dangling above the ceiling, with Neuvillette and you sitting on top of the bed in the middle— the older man brushing your [Hair color] hair gently. (Doesn’t matter if your hair is short— he’ll brush it anyway-)

“I’m fine, Neuvillette… I didn’t fall down the stairs like last time..” You mumbled out, trying to convince your best friend that it was all well— even though, you’ve caught feelings for him. It was mutual pining, and it was adorable how close you two were, even if nobody knew that… Everyone just assumed you were a stranger to Neuvillette, but behind closed doors, he’s quite a gentleman and very soft with you.

Neuvillette sighs, scoffing a bit, because you’re always saying your fine— but recently you just almost died by being in the way of a robot who was speeding it’s way, so he can’t say you’re fine. “You do realize you followed a stranger last time.. Hm? And what about you having troubles with money and debt? You know I could just pay it off for you.” The male exclaims, suggesting it’s better to just leave everything to him rather than you going outside again. He refuses to let you out.

He might as well lock you up, if that were the very case.

You just softly pouted, furrowing your eyebrows slightly considering he did have a point— but you were too stubborn to admit your embarrassing moments to him, even if you both are best friends. “It was an accident…. Neuvillette, you’re too humble for me… I feel like I owe you something..” Neuvillette had a light chuckle at the moment you said that, and shakes his head before his silk-like long fingers trails and strokes your hair just a bit.

However…. His face soon darkens.. He did remember about Furina getting personally close to you… And that damn Fatui, Arlecchino, having her own personal favoritism towards you. It was overwhelming, and stressing— even. Neuvillette didn’t want you to be exposed, but it ends up with everyone in Fontaine knowing your very existence when they shouldn’t.

“…” He was silent for a moment, but there was a mere smirk being visible on his face— but you couldn’t see because your back is turned, and because he’s doing your hair nicely.

“You owe me nothing, darling. All I’m asking of you, is to sit here, in this very room… And do nothing.” He confirms, nodding slowly at his own words that he commented out. “That is all I’ll ever ask of you. After all, I know how weak you are…. You almost died by a ruin guard, after all.” Your body froze a little, a bit terrified by the very memory…

…

You think maybe he’s right…. But you also want to buy biscuits for yourself— but it’s fine with just soup if it meant for you to not injure yourself again… So, you complied with his request. “… Alright… I’ll stay..” You agreed, much to his amusement before he stops brushing your hair. He soon touches your arms very softly, slowly…. “How about I do your skin-care routine?” He suggests, again. “I know how much you care about having a fine smooth skin…” And he adores your [Skin color] skin. It’s so soft to touch… It’s so mesmerizing.

You smiled, glancing up at him to see he has his neutral face on— only because he can’t reveal his true intentions you’re unaware of. “I’d love that very much…” You confirmed. “After all, I have to meet up with Navia later… She says she has some important questions for me, so I might as well head off and come back later..”

Neuvillette darkened his face again, at that comment. He knew of Navia— and knows of her informations and what she’s about… Of course, she’d take a liking to you because you’re a very lovely sweet person to chat with.. It’s also no wonder why Furina doesn’t bother you at all despite that she’s a brat herself.

Sure, you two were just best friends… But he had bonded with you so much he got a little too attached to you.. You’re just… Dangerously gorgeous, it’s hard to keep himself off of you when he tries.

“Navia, huh…? Might I ask, where is she now? When is this meeting starting?” He asks, trying to sound curious than possessive— because he knows that it might scare you of. (It doesn’t but this mf doesn’t believe it)

You hum to yourself, trying to figure out as you gaze up at the ceiling just a tiny bit. “… I think it was in 10 minutes or something…” “Then, we must get straight to the skin-care routine. Come on now, I’ll take care of you.” Neuvillette motions for you to turn around, and so you did…

There were further darker intentions Neuvillette wanted to do at that very moment to Navia. Either decapitate her as a public execution, rip her guts and organs out— probably donate her heart to someone else, or… He could tie her up to a chair and cut her fingers off one by one, and feed them to the Hilichurls or Mitachurls… Maybe cut off her limbs and throw them to the oceans, in hopes a shark would appear to eat her.

Yes, he might just do that.

But for now, he takes the moment to appreciate your smooth-like skin, and tries hiding the fact he wanted nothing more but to pluck Arlecchino’s eyes as well. Who knows? He might have to get rid of everyone else, before it’s too late.

Neuvillette my beloved<3

#various x reader #various #yandere x reader #yandere genshin headcanons #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x reader

[darklcy]

Hola!Can I request an arcane headcanon where the reader who has a habit of playing with their own hair?And what would be the arcane characters reaction to it?Ty!

THIS IS SO-AHHH

.: arcane masterlist :.

𝐟𝐭 -> 𝐯𝐢, 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐱, 𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧, 𝐞𝐤𝐤𝐨, 𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫

°𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐄: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 °

VI

my heart. as we all know, she’s not accustomed to physical affection as much as she should be, seeing how the only physicality that flew her way for the past few years had been a series of beatings.

and being so stubborn, she absolutely denies being touch starved

so the first time you touched her hair she just. froze

she’d been at the kitchen table wrapping her arms up when you found her, giving her a sleepy grin and moving to stand behind her chair to watch

“hey there,” she grinned at you.

you hummed. “g’morning.”

nonchalantly, your fingers grazed through the pink strands in the direction the spiked bangs laid, eyes staring off in thought

vi instantly looked up. she didn’t say anything at first, initially expecting you to stop

but you just kept going

she awkwardly clears her throat. “uh, whatcha’ doin there…?”

you blink a few times. “oh sorry. force of habit..”

your fingers stop their movements and she frowns.

“oh.. well, i mean…if you wanna keep doing it, i mean..you can.”

you grin again and continue the action, earning a deep sigh from her.

this becomes a regular occurrence from then on between you two. either vi will lay herself on your lap or rest her head on your chest, but always you running your fingers through her scalp.

and almost every single time she drifts to sleep. and then you do, too

JINX

on the complete opposite side, it didn’t take long for you to realize jinx was not opposed to affection at all.

in fact, she was usually the one initiating it! with koala-bear embraces or poking your shoulder or bumping your head with hers, etc etc.

so you didn’t really think too much of it when you played with her hair the first time

you approached her at her work desk with a happy smile, jinx throwing back her head to greet you before going back to whatever it was she was messing with

“what are you working on?”

“hmm.. just some stuff. you knoww.”

before she could go further into detail your hands sifted up and down her braids, twirling the ends around the tips of your fingers

when she felt the slight tugging sensation she paused and lifted her goggles to peer at you.

you were too in your thoughts to notice her giggling.

“having fun there, tink?”

“what was that?”

she raised a brow and looked at her braid laying in your hand which caused you to laugh.

“ah, my bad. it’s a habit of mine.”

she giggles again and goes back to her desk. she’s not like vi where she absolutely adores the feeling, it’s kind of more just a thing that happens every now and then that she goes along with

EKKO

no because how can you resist he’s got the coolest hair ever

i picture him as pretty introverted when it comes to affection, it takes a lot of trust and time to open up to someone seeing how he’s lost a lot in his life

it’d have to be pretty long into the relationship before he ever drops his full guard around you, and when he finally grows accustomed to pda is when you touched his hair for the first time

“hey. they said they’ll be ready to head out in 10.” you called out to him from the doorway.

ekko gave you a brief glance and grunted. “got it. just gotta finish this up.”

you trudged over to where he was sat on his mattress, an open journal and pencil in hand.

“what are you doing?”

“..journaling. writing down thoughts about tomorrow, and the future. it helps clear my head.”

you hummed while sitting on your knees beside him, fingers moving to twist the ends of his dreads.

he chuckled. “what are YOU doing?”

you paused. “ah. it’s a habit, i do it without thinking sometimes.”

he closes his journal and bashfully looks away.

“well, it’s…not a bad habit.”

very sweet about it, and gets super embarrassed about it every time you compliment or care for his hair afterwards

CAITLYN

as we transition to topside, caitlyn i feel has experienced tender affections before

maybe not so much now as an adult, but growing up her mother would style or brush her hair every now and then, and she didn’t realize how much she missed the feeling until you did it to her

her hair was a bit tangled after a day’s work, you noticed, after laying in bed with her for a couple minutes

she was preoccupied with reading a new novel, while you stared at the blue locks framing her face

“how’s your book going?”

she scoffed. “pretty interesting, actually. the knight has just torn up the city searching for his soon-to-be-bride, but the bride’s actually the one who ran away from him in the first place.”

she lightly shook her head. “sometimes these characters are so dramatic, but still entertaining.”

you laughed while raising a finger to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, the tip of your finger lingering in her scalp a bit longer

caitlyn peered at you through the corner of her eye.

“are you staring..?”

you blinked a few times and grinned. “maybe. but it’s also a habit of mine to play with hair, sorry bout that.”

she cleared her throat. “no need to apologize.. it felt nice, actually.”

your grin grew wider as you sat up to play with her hair more properly. as the night stretched on, caitlyn felt herself leaning more and more into your touch.

every now and then, you’ll experience the more tender, soft moments with her like this one, and they always leave the most impact in your heart

VIKTOR

sweet, sweet, man

so touch starved and deprived of love he wants to be held so bad i just know it

of course, the moments he desperately craves breaths of release and relief is when he’s overworked in his lab

dark circles under his eyes, notes scattered on the desk, body aching

one night he didn’t come home at the usual time, hence the reason for you stumbling into his lab unannounced

he was barely awake in his chair, upper body leaning on the desk and eyes starting to close

“i think it’s time for bed, hun.” you calmly spoke while weaving your fingers through his messy hair

he sighed at the feeling while sitting back up. “..you might be right about that.”

you smiled as you stared at his notes, mindlessly reading them all. you didn’t notice the way viktor leaned his weight onto your hands caressing his scalp, eyes closed yet again

your fingers stilled. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize i was still doing that.”

he shook his head.

“no, i enjoy it..feels nice after a day like today.”

it took a while for you to get him to leave the lab following the interaction

viktor refused to fall asleep without you playing with his hair first after that night. even if it’s to relax for just a couple minutes, he comes to you for the relief of stress

A/N: for some reason, every time i typed this request out on my computer it kept deleting, so i wrote this on my phone so hopefully the layout isn’t too weird!! hope you enjoyed :)

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #arcane vi #vi x reader #arcane vi x reader #arcane jinx #jinx #jinx x reader #arcane jinx x reader #ekko #arcane ekko #ekko x reader #arcane ekko x reader #caitlyn kiramman x eader #caitlyn kiramman #arcane caitlyn x reader #arcane caitlyn kiramman #arcane viktor #viktor x reader #arcane viktor x reader #headcanon

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Febuwhump Day 3 - "Bite Down on This"

For @smilesrobotlover and her wonderful King of the Gerudo blorbos!

Things hadn't exactly gone according to plan.

The monster horde near Fort Hateno had needed to be addressed quickly. Although the soldiers had held it at bay fairly well, Link wanted to defend his home and had rushed to its aid. Mipha had joined him.

Everything had been fine until the blood moon had come in the middle of the fight.

Link supposed it wasn't a complete disaster - they'd still won, after all. But goddess above, at what cost?

Mipha whimpered a bit as she tried to sit up a little more. Link gently put pressure on her shoulders to get her to relax.

"Please," he nearly begged. "You've done enough, Mipha. Just let me help."

His beloved wilted a little at his tone, her love for him fighting against her worry for the other soldiers. Link adored her for her compassion, but by Hylia she could be stubborn.

Well. He could be too, he supposed. Both their parents had commented that if they could have children they would be the most hardheaded beings on the planet.

The current dilemma, though, was due to Mipha's stubbornness, and his own would win out in this fight. Mipha had gotten an arrow to her leg, and it had impaled all the way through. The scream she'd let out was still ringing in Link's ears, making his skin crawl. Ever since he'd almost lost her to the Calamity, any injury she received was like being thrown back to that awful day. His heart was still racing just thinking about it.

The injury itself was painful to look at it, but Link knew Mipha's healing skills were more than enough to take care of it. The issue was that she'd spent her energy healing the Hylian soldiers all around her instead, and at this point she was too exhausted.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" he murmured, not really expecting an answer as he traced his finger around the wound.

"I have to help," Mipha answered quietly, a little browbeaten.

Link felt bad for making her guilty over such a gift, for such tender and considerate love for all. He sighed, cupping her cheeks with his hands. "I know. But... you can't help others if you wear yourself out. You worry me."

Mipha sighed, leaning into his touch and closing her eyes. "I'm sorry, Link."

Link tapped her face with his thumb, making her look at him. He didn't say anything more, but he leaned in for a quick kiss before leaning back and letting her go. He sifted through his bag a little before finding a spare belt. He felt his insides grow a little cold as he pulled it out. He'd used this item time and again when handling his own wounds, but...

Goddess, he really wished they didn't have to keep fighting like this. Hyrule had known peace for so long.

He couldn't imagine a better partner in battle, though.

"Bite down on this," he ordered as he offered the belt to her. Mipha took it and complied without argument, knowing what was coming.

Link found himself wishing desperately that he had even an ounce of Mipha's healing magic. He seemed the least magically inclined person by his own observations - Zelda, Mipha, Urbosa, Daruk... even Revali to a degree had some kind of magical ability to their name. He supposed his magic was his fighting prowess.

It absolutely paled in comparison.

What good was such magic in the face of the others? The only closest equivalent was Urbosa, whose abilities were really only utilized for violence such as his. Link had never been ashamed of his gifts before, but in this moment he wished so desperately that his hands could heal more so than hurt.

It's not hurting. It's defending. And that's equally important, he reminded himself.

And then he glanced again at Mipha, who could both heal and defend. His heart swelled, a smile pulling at his lips. Goddess, he loved her.

Mipha gave him a bewildered look for a moment before softening and returning the smile. But then she grimaced as she moved her leg a little, and Link focused on the moment again, warmth forgotten.

Positioning her leg a little better, Link visualized both sides of the arrow where it pierced all the way through. In her state, Mipha wasn't likely to be able to heal the wound for at least a few hours, so he'd have to stop the bleeding in the best way he knew how. He prayed she could heal herself sooner rather than later as... well...

Tourniquets hurt. But the risk for further injury and bleeding and infection were too high to sit on this.

He glanced at Mipha, silently asking if she was ready. She nodded, face determined, though her nervous wringing of her hands belayed her anxiety.

Link pushed the shaft with a fast, fluid motion. He wasn't sure if the whimper that escaped his beloved was better or worse than a scream. His hands went back to her face quickly, leaning his forehead against hers in comfort before he eased the belt out of her clenched jaw and tied it around her thigh. Mipha gasped in pain as he tightened it, watching the bleeding slow and then stop entirely.

Mipha leaned against the wall, sighing, her eyes closed tightly. Link shuffled to sit beside her and pulled her to him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. I'm sorry I can't heal like you can.

"Don't--ah!--don't be," Mipha said shakily, huddling closer to him. "You h-helped me. Thank you."

Link sighed heavily. Mipha just couldn't help being nice. One of these days he was going to kidnap her to some beautiful place where she didn't have to lead, worry, heal, or do anything for at least a week and he could just take care of her.

"I'll be able to heal it soon, I think," Mipha noted.

Link nodded, pulling away before scooping her into his arms. She yelped in surprise, making him smile.

"Well, in the meantime, I'll take care of you."

#writing #miphlink #lovely smiles #and her lovely story ideas #king of the gerudo #mipha #this girl is too stubborn for her own good #but then again so is link #who can out-duty the other #the healer who has to take care of everyone and also protect her people #or the hero of destiny who has to protect all of hyrule and the princess #the world may never know but by heaven these two will try to win this competition #febuwhump #Also Link doesn’t know this but tourniquet info: #When putting on a tourniquet you tighten it until that limb loses a pulse - NOT until the bleeding stops #This is because there might still be bleeding you can’t see #So you tighten that sucker down until there’s NO way blood is circulating #Hence why you don’t want to keep a tourniquet on for ages - no blood flow! #But we’ve learned from combat medicine that you can wear one for a few hours #Skye time travels through the queque

[poppadom0912]

One night stand

Characters: Will Halstead x Sibling!Reader, Jay Halstead x Sibling!Reader, Sylvie Brett, Sarah Rheese, Ethan Choi

Warnings: Mentions of drinking, fainting, pregnancy.

Summary: Your brothers aren't exactly over the moon when they find out your pregnant and you don't know who the dad is.

A/N: I know that I've put out several halstead!sister fics but I promise, the next one will be different because I have lots of requests and drafts coming together.

*****

You were going to blame the hot weather. No matter how many Chicago summers you lived and are still living through, you would always despise heatwaves. You were a winter baby through and through.

Jumping out the ambo, you harshly swallowed when your throat suddenly felt dry, slamming the passenger door shut when the room started spinning.

Leaning a hand against the ambo which was hot to the touch, you didn't even wince despite the fact that you probably could've burned yourself by doing so.

"Y/N, you okay?" Sylvie asked, cautiously rounding the ambo to your side, noticing you weren't as energetic as usual. You hadn't followed her into the common room like you usually did, running past to get coffee before her so you wouldn't have the job of brewing another pot.

You hummed, screwing your eyes shut as you tried to keep your breaths steady, breathing in and out deeply. You tried brushing her off, trying to say you were completely fine but you struggled to even form words.

Wanting to be stubborn, you attempted to push her away but you failed. You ended up pushing the air away and that only further convinced Sylvie that you were anything but okay.

"Alright, let's get you in the rig." She said, wrapping an arm around, basically supporting all of your weight.

"Ladies! Lunch is-" Cruz cut himself of, freezing in his steps when he saw your pale self being supported by Sylvie who was struggling to walk with you on her side.

Without being asked, Cruz went to your empty side and easily carried you, taking you off of Sylvie so she could open the doors of the rig. But, before Cruz could sweep you off your feet, you lost all feeling in your body and everything went black.

*****

Ignoring his awaiting patients chart, Will nodded to what he was being told, immersed in Sarah's story she retolled of what happened while she was in med school. Her experiences were interesting to say the least.

Before Will could reply, their conversation was stopped by Maggie who was shouting for him as she walked towards the ambo bay doors. Jutting his head towards the charge nurses direction, Sarah followed the attending, copying his actions even when he came to a sudden stop, bumping into his back courtesy of Maggie.

Will was now being told not to pursue any further, Maggie's hand in his face as she looked down at her brick, her eyebrows furrowed in conflict.

"CFD's in the house." Maggie said loud enough for the two doctors to hear. None of this wasn't new, firefighters came in all the time with burns and smoke inhalation, what was different this time?

"Rheese, your with Dr Choi. Dr Halstead, pregnant woman in five." Maggie said, pointing the doctors in their respective directions. Sarah complied, following after Ethan who was jogging towards the bay doors but Will stayed standing.

"Maggie, what's wron-" Will stopped himself. It suddenly dawned on him why he was no longer going to treat the patient coming in. "Don't tell me it's Y/N."

Will didn't even need to see the empathy that Maggie was sending him because when the bay doors opened he only saw one paramedic and a gaggle of firefighters following behind her and you were nowhere in sight. No, instead your red hair was splayed underneath you on the stretcher.

"She was fine but suddenly felt dizzy and couldn't keep upright before going unconscious." Sylvie's voice cracked as she started to relay, leaving out bits of information since everyone already knew who you were. She had no idea what was wrong with you and when she couldn't find out, all she could think of was losing you.

Reading off vitals, Ethan got to work, shouting around orders causing everyone to fly around. It was organised chaos to anyone who had any idea as to what was happening.

Will was being held back by Maggie who stood by his side, both looking into the treatment room wanting to know what was happening to you. You had yet to regain consciousness but that was yet to be deemed a good or bad thing.

"Jay." Will whispered in realisation. "I need to call Jay."

Despite his declaration, Will found himself glued to the spot, his eyes solely on your lifeless figure on the bed.

"I've got it." Maggie assured the redhead, patting his arm as she reached for her phone and scrolled for the contact of detective Halstead.

"Jay? Hey, it's Maggie..."

*****

When you awoke, you knew exactly where you were based of two tells: the incessant beeping and the strong smell of everything sterile. There was only one place in the world that could be so recogniseable without gaining full consciousness.

You groaned, screwing your eyes shut the second you pried them open when you were met with blinding lights. You noticed how your body felt much lighter than before, your head no longer pounding but your throat felt like a desert.

"And the sleeping beauty awakes, at last." Jay says whimsically, a cup of water in his hand with a plastic straw meant for you.

Your reply was simply a groan, swallowing the water and relishing in the relief it brought you. This heatwave and your back to back calls were definitely the cause of your dehydration.

"Will's gone to get Dr Choi." Jay said, sitting back down in the chair he'd been occupying since his arrival. Linking your fingers with his, Jay tried to forget the moment he found out you were brought the med, the heavy sensation in his chest was one he never wanted to feel ever again.

"Hey, it's good to see you awake." Ethan entered the room, following after Will. The three men were still in their work attire, letting you deduce you weren't out for too long.

"You okay with me saying everything now?" Ethan asked despite already knowing the answer, having seen how close-knit the Halstead siblings were, especially when it came to any of their healths.

You nodded without hesitation, tightening your grip around Jay's hand. Fear was coursing through your veins. This could literally be anything and everything. There were no symptoms and it was all so sudden.

"You were a little dehydrated and there's no concussion seeing as Cruz cushioned your fall." Ethan started with, looking back and forth from each sibling before letting the news loose.

"Your HCG levels are also elevated."

And just like that, your world was flipped upside down.

"I'm pregnant?" You asked, shocked at the revelation. There was no way you could be pregnant. You had no symptoms and the last time you has sex was- Oh, nevermind.

With short and quick congratulations, Ethan was out the room, closing the curtains behind him, finally leaving the three siblings together, all three of them wide awake.

The tension and awkwardness was pulsating. It was so thick you could probably choke on it.

"I'm gonna keep it." For some reason, that was the first thing you said. Even without seeing the life living inside you, you felt the sudden need to defend it, fighting to the death if you had to.

"What- Why wouldn't you?" Will stuttered, looking at you in confusion. "It's your kid, of course you'd have it."

"That does raise the question though." Jay said with one brow raised, looking at you expectantly. "Who's the lucky man's record I'm going to have to look for."

You huffed, pushing Jay's smirking face away from you. You knew that Jay would do exactly that and much more. He'd probably try and get Voight and the entire unit to intimidate the man so they could question his credibility.

"Ummm." You thought hard. In all seriousness, who was the dad?

"I don't know." You shrugged, lips pursed as you pondered, ignoring the concerned faces of your older brothers. "I did have a one night stand a little over a month ago when I was a little too drunk."

"A one night stand?"

"Y/N M/N Halstead!"

You winced, screwing your eyes shut at the volume of your brothers. Their shock and possible anger was easily validated, they did just find out their baby sister was pregnant via a one night stand. The father was a ghost.

"It's fine." You shrugged them off, ignoring their scolding as you insisted. "I can raise a baby, heck, I'd raise an amazing child." You boasted with a little bit of pride.

"And my big brothers are going to be just the best uncles." You said with an amused smile, your voice imitating a mother playing with her kid.

And with nearly three decades of experience, you successfully had Jay and Will convinced, caving despite the strong Halstead stubbornness you all seemed to inherit from your pops.

"Baby Halstead is going to be just fine."

Of course baby Halstead would be fine. Actually, she'd be more than fine with her mum being a paramedic and her biological uncles being a detective and doctor. Not to forgot the aunts and uncles from intelligence, the firehouse and the ED.

Baby girl Halstead was going to be the most protected daughter in all of Chicago because hell would rain down the second harm came within five metres of her.

#onechicago #one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #halstead sister #will halstead x reader #will halstead #will halstead x sister!reader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #jay halstead x sister!reader #chicago fire x reader #chicago fire

[justvibewithjas]

Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Content warning//: orgasm denial, handjob, cowgirl, Dom!reader

Word count: 2.2k

𝒫𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉

Miguel has been extremely stubborn for the past two weeks. You try to help him? He says he can do it on his own. If you try to get him to relax instead of stressing so much, he brushes you off. This was a common thing, so you were used to it. However, that doesn’t mean it didn’t get under your skin. But finally, you managed to convince him to relax. The two of you were sitting in his apartment, in his bed, watching a movie together. You were snuggled up to Miguel and he was snuggled against you. Things obviously escalated and now your hand was down his pants.

“Need you so fucking badly.. please..” Miguel whined, his lips pressed against your neck as you moved your hand along his cock. Now was the perfect time to get him back for being such a pain in the ass for the past two weeks.

"No not yet." She says rubbing her thumb over his tip.

Miguel's eyes widened as he felt your thumb rubbing over the sensitive tip of his cock. A sharp gasp escaped his lips, followed by a desperate whimper. He tried to thrust his hips into your hand, seeking more friction, but you held him firmly in place.

"Ngh...please, Y/n, I can't take it anymore," Miguel pleaded, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and need. "I've been such an ass, I'm sorry... just let me... let me cum, please."

His words were laced with desperation, his body trembling with anticipation. The longing in his reddish eyes was almost painful to witness, as he craved release like never before.

"aw come on I know you can do it." She kisses his neck. "Hold it in."

Miguel's face contorted with a mixture of frustration and disappointment as you denied him once again. He groaned softly, his hands gripping the sheets tightly as he tried to hold himself back.

"But, Y/n I've been so stressed...I need this," he whined, his voice tinged with desperation. "Please, just a little release... I'll do anything you want, I promise."

He leaned into your kiss, savoring the feeling of your lips against his neck. It only heightened his desire, making his need for release even more unbearable. He struggled to keep himself from giving in to his instincts, his body on the verge of trembling with the effort.

"you can cum when I say so." She says glaring at him.

Miguel let out a frustrated groan, his body tensing at your words. He knew he had pushed you too far with his stubbornness, and now he was paying the price. The desperation in his voice was evident as he pleaded once again.

"Y/n, please...I can't hold on much longer. I'll do anything, just please let me cum," he begged, his voice coming out in a whine. His cock throbbed painfully, his arousal reaching its peak. The denial was torturous, and he couldn't take it any longer. His reddened eyes met yours, filled with a mix of need and vulnerability.

She smiles. "Hold it."

Miguel's expression shifted from desperation to a mix of frustration and anticipation as he looked at you. He bit his lower lip, trying to suppress the moan that threatened to escape his throat. The throbbing ache in his cock intensified, the need for release becoming almost unbearable.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, his voice quivering with both need and resignation. "I'll hold it...but please, Y/n, I-I c-can't take much more of this."

He tried his best to comply with your request, his body trembling with the effort of restraining himself. But the constant denial was pushing him to his limits, testing his resolve like never before.

She nips at his ear and speeds her hand up. "Good boy just wait till I say. You can do that for me can't you?"

Miguel's eyes widened as he felt your nip at his ear, the sensation sending shivers down his spine. His breath hitched as your hand sped up its movements, bringing him closer to the edge. The conflicting sensations of pleasure and denial overwhelmed him, and he nodded eagerly at your words.

"Yes, yes, I'll wait," he managed to choke out, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and obedience. "I'll do anything for you, Y/n. Just please...let me know when I can come please...please...I-I need it."

His body arched into your touch, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back his orgasm. The strain was evident on his face, his brows furrowed and his teeth gritted together. He was determined to obey your command, no matter how difficult it was.

"actually." She kisses his neck and stops moving her hand. "Do it yourself and you can cum."

Miguel's eyes widened in surprise as you kissed his neck and abruptly stopped moving your hand. His body quivered with a mixture of anticipation and confusion at your words. He took a moment to process your request, his mind racing as he considered the proposition.

"Wait...you want me to...do it myself?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and hope. "If I do, t-then I can finally cum?"

His reddened eyes searched yours, searching for confirmation. The desperation in his voice was now laced with a glimmer of excitement, as the possibility of finally attaining release seemed within reach.

She kisses his cheek as a frustrated tear leaked down it. "Mhm hmm." She smiles. "Use your hand and you can come when you want to. Now be a good boy and do as I asked."

Miguel's expression softened as he felt the tear on his cheek and heard your words. He could sense the sincerity in your voice, and it tugged at his heart. His desperation shifted into a sense of gratitude and determination as he nodded, a renewed sense of purpose washing over him.

"Alright," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of relief and determination. "I'll be a good boy...I'll do as you asked."

With a trembling hand, Miguel reached down and wrapped his fingers around his throbbing cock. He took a deep breath, his other hand resting on your thigh for support. The touch of his own hand sent jolts of pleasure through his body, and he began to stroke himself, his movements slow and deliberate.

As he followed your instructions, his focus shifted solely on his own pleasure, and the intensity of the sensations coursing through him. A low moan escaped his lips as he felt the buildup of pleasure, inching closer to the edge with each stroke. He was finally in control of his own release, and the anticipation was almost overwhelming.

She sucked on his neck. "Doin so good mi amor." A hickey forming there and she moves to a different spot on his neck.

Miguel's body shuddered as he felt your lips on his neck, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. The combination of your encouragement and the stimulation of his own hand brought him closer to the brink of ecstasy. He moaned, the sound mingling with your words of praise.

"Oh...Y/n...thank you," he gasped, his voice filled with a mix of pleasure and appreciation. "I-I'm so close."

His strokes became faster and more urgent, his grip tightening around his pulsating cock. He could feel the tension building, his body teetering on the edge. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting as he surrendered himself to the pleasure, his hips involuntarily thrusting into his own hand.

"Cum for me Miguel." She says and bites down on his neck.

Miguel's body tensed as he heard your command, and he felt the sharp sting of your bite on his neck. The combination of your words and the surge of pain sent him over the edge, his orgasm crashing through him like a tidal wave.

"Ahh, Y/n!" he cried out, his voice filled with a mix of pleasure and relief. As his body convulsed with ecstasy, his cock released streams of cum, splattering across his own hand and onto the sheets beneath him. It was an intense release, as if all the built-up tension and frustration were being expelled in that single moment.

He continued to ride out the waves of pleasure, his body trembling and his breath coming in ragged gasps. The sensation was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but revel in the release that had eluded him for so long.

She takes his hand and licks the cum from his fingers. "Aw you came so much." She teases.

Miguel's body went rigid as he watched you take his hand and lick the cum from his fingers. A mix of embarrassment and arousal washed over him, and his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. He couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability as you teased him about the amount he had released.

"Uh... yeah, I guess I did," he stammered, his voice betraying a hint of shyness. "I... I couldn't hold it back anymore."

He shifted slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Despite his initial embarrassment, he couldn't deny the arousal that still lingered within him.

She smiles. "You're still so hard. Do you need more baby?"

Miguel's cheeks flushed even deeper at your words, a mixture of desire and vulnerability evident in his reddened eyes. His lower lashes still wet from his tears from earlier. He licked his lips nervously, his body still throbbing with the aftermath of his release.

"I...I mean, if you want to," he responded, his voice coming out in a soft, hesitant tone. "I...I'm still... really turned on."

She sits up and pulls her shorts down. She straddles him. "Well I can't leave you like this." She uses her hand to guide him into herself. She moans at the stretch and sinks all the way down.

Miguel's eyes widened as you straddled him, his breath catching in his throat as he watched you pull your shorts down. His arousal surged at the sight, his cock throbbing with need. As you guided him into yourself, a groan of pleasure escaped his lips, his hands instinctively gripping your hips.

"Oh...Y/n," he moaned, his voice filled with desire as he felt the tightness and warmth envelop him completely. The sensation of being buried deep inside you sent electrifying waves of pleasure through his body, his hips instinctively bucking upwards to meet your movements.

He couldn't help but revel in the overwhelming pleasure, his hands exploring your body eagerly as he sought to please you as much as he was being pleased. The connection between the two of you intensified, and he lost himself in the passionate rhythm of your bodies moving together.

"oh god yes just like that." She says as she moves up and down.

Miguel's lips parted in a gasp as he heard your words, a surge of pleasure coursing through his veins. The sound of your voice, filled with ecstasy and desire, only fueled the fire within him. His movements became more fervent, his hips meeting yours with a primal urgency.

"Y/n," he groaned, his voice laced with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. He held onto you tightly, his hands gliding along your curves, savoring every moment of intimacy. The sensations overwhelmed him, pushing him closer to the edge once again.

He lost himself in the rhythm, his body moving in sync with yours, chasing the climax that was within reach. The intensity of the pleasure consumed him, blurring the line between control and surrender.

"You feel so good baby." She says and leans down to kiss him.

Miguel's breath hitched at your words, his body trembling with pleasure. The intimate connection between you intensified, and he couldn't help but be swept away by the feelings coursing through him.

"You...you feel incredible too, Y/n," he managed to respond, his voice strained with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

His movements became more fervent, his thrusts growing more desperate as he chased that elusive peak of pleasure. With each thrust, he felt the tightness and warmth surrounding him, driving him closer to the edge. The pleasure built within him, threatening to consume him entirely.

"aw are you gonna cum again?"

Miguel's eyes widened as he heard your question, the realization hitting him that he was indeed on the precipice of another orgasm. The pleasure coursing through his body intensified, pushing him closer to the edge.

"I... I think I am," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and need. "I-I c-can't hold back much longer...please baby...please."

His thrusts became more erratic, his control slipping away as his body succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure. He could feel the familiar tightening in his groin, the telltale signs of his impending release.

"Go ahead Miggy you've been so good f'me,"

Miguel's eyes locked with yours, his expression a mix of desperation and longing. Your words of encouragement pushed him over the edge. With a guttural groan, he surrendered to the waves of ecstasy that crashed over him.

"Y/n!" he cried out, his voice filled with a mix of pleasure and relief. As his body convulsed with the force of his release, his cock pulsed and spasmed, releasing a torrent of cum deep inside you. The intensity of the orgasm was overwhelming, as if all the pent-up desire and frustration had been unleashed in that single moment.

#fem!reader #dom!reader #across the spiderverse #so many inappropriate words #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine  “Star Wars” special edition: Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice”.

A proud Jedi and his damsel part II

Imagine Mr. Skywalker is coming to your hometown with Mr Kenobi in order to discover a supposed Sith plot. However, in this meantime Mr Kenobi takes a like at your sister. Everything seems well. Except by the fact that his friend does not like you.

Warnings: none; it’s all fluff.

Recommendations: “Caught Myself” by Paramore.

***

Mr Skywalker’s POV.

Right after you left with Miss Satine in a carriage provided by Obi-Wan, Anakin remarks sarcastically:

“For a man often concentrated in duties, you are quite charmed by Miss Satine, Ben.”

It does not go unnoticed the blush in his Master’s face.

“…Is it so evident?”

Ahsoka giggles softly.

“It’s not that bad to fall in love…”

Anakin frowns at his sister, always protective to the younger component of the trio.

“How’d you know that, Snips? You are barely fifteen!”

She rolls her eyes.

“I read novels and I see how love changes people.” And as for teasing him, she adds: “Whatever happened between you and Princess Padmé, though? I thought you’d end up being reckless yet again. But maybe it’s because she’s not anything like Y/N.”

Anakin scoffs at Ahsoka.

“You speak what you can’t understand.”

“She ended up married off to Prince Clovis”, Obi-Wan says, much to Anakin’s annoyance. “What? It’s true. Besides it’s been time. You should move on.”

He refuses to feed the discussion, not minding to fall silent.

“But I don’t think you loved her sincerely”, says Obi-Wan, giving his friend and former Padawan a compassionate gaze. “Otherwise you’d be more…imprudent as you characteristically can be. But let’s change topics. I have come across to a name for this Sith agent.”

Anakin never ceases to be amazed by how efficient can be Obi-Wan: flirting all the way with Miss Satine and clearly developing a deeper affection for her all the while he’s devoted to his task.

When seeing the perplexity in the other male’s face, Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow.

“I can hear your thoughts, Anakin. Being a brat is so unlike you.” He says ironically.

“Well, what’s that name then, Master?” Ahsoka interrupts what could be a long discussion between the two men she admires, specially when they could be annoyingly stubborn.

Obi-Wan glances at Ahsoka before doing so to Anakin.

“He attends by Mr Collins. We have to capture him right at our next ball. He’s coming to claim Miss Satine and Miss Y/N’s inheritance…”

That is all should take Anakin’s interest.

***

Your POV.

Your father is announcing right at the dinner table that a cousin of his, a man named Mr Collins who apparently is a parochial at some church, is coming to reassess his inheritance.

You are baffled by what you are told.

“Papa, is he going to take our propriety away from us?”

“Not exactly. I’m praying he has good intentions”, he tells you.

“Not exactly? Mr Bennet! Do not give false hopes to your daughters!” And as if you have any share of the guilt for this situation, your mother looks at you when she says: “That’s why you should all be married right away! And to a man whose annuities will not allow neither of you to suffer a destination like I do!”

You raise eyebrows at your mother’s remark.

“Are you saying you regret marrying papa?”

“Y/N! Always twisting everything I say!” She begins to fan herself before leaving the table. “My poor nerves! How little is your consideration for them!”

Your father sighs at the demonstration of your mother’s drama.

“We can only hope the man has some dignity…”

But the man himself surprises the family by showing up the next day instead a week ahead as announced. It all happens very fast. You are feeding the pigs when you hear your mother calling out for you frantically:

“Y/N! Y/N! Come over! Put your best dress because Mr Collins is on his way!”

You heavily sigh but comply to your mother’s wish. In fact, you have to lament for her when you come to think about all the difficulties your parents went through to provide you and your sisters a fair education. A rarity to this world, you think. It’s so unjust that this obscure cousin threatens to take it all from you.

You meet Satine in the room you share. The two of you exchange a look before each help the other with braiding the hair.

“Can you believe it? There must be a reason why he decides to come over after years away from us.” Satine tells you whilst you comb her blond locks. “Where did mama say he comes from again?”

“Bath, I think. I am not entirely sure”, you shrug your shoulders. “Have we met him yet, though? I have no recollections whatsoever of his person.”

“I don’t think we have, no. I cannot remember him either.” Satine sighs. “Well we best hope for his intentions not to confirm our worst fears.”

“Indeed”, you agree, rather concerned.

Once the two of you are ready, you go downstairs and soon are called upon by your mother to go the dinning room where Mr Collins awaits.

You cannot help but feel unwell the moment Mr Collins gazes right at you. A bad feeling comes in the form of a shiver as he maliciously smirks at you all the while pretending to have an innocent conversation with your mother.

Oh boy. This is going to be rough.

You hesitantly take your seat right after being introduced to him by your mother. It’s not, however, until your father comes to seat at the edge of the table that dinner does not start. And when it does, you learn that Mr Collins is trying a career in the Church and has the patronage of a Baroness, to whom he’s proudly associated to.

But to earn the whole patronage of her ladyship, he’s expected to get a proper dowry which he intends to do so by marriage.

Oh.

It’s suddenly very awkward since Mr Collins first looks at Satine, upon which your mother gently reminds him that she’s being courted by a fine gentleman. However, her second eldest daughter is single and possesses the same attributes of her first child. It’s when your younger sisters begin to giggle.

It needs not to take more time before every smile turns to a smirk. And yours promptly dies. In spite of your protestations, you are left alone with him.

How could your mother have done that to you? You swallow.

“My lady…” so begins the little man of dark hair whose expression in his face does not impress you at all.

“I am no lady”, you interrupt him nervously. “I rest assure you that…”

“We are both in need of getting married. It may be true that I am not the man you might have desired to proudly associate as wife”, he interrupts you. “But how often are unions based upon mutual affections? I believe …”

“Sir, I don’t think it’s prudent to choose a wife solely based on…”

“I believe I can inspire you harboring sentiments for me”, he interrupts you again. “If you give me a chance…”

“Mr Collins…”

You are baffled when he goes down on one knee.

“If you take me as I am, we can…”

“No!” You exclaim, perplexing him. “My lord cousin, I cannot accept your proposal!”

“You cannot?” He is shocked. “How do you mean by that?”

“You may be a kind and good hearted man with good intentions, but these qualities are not enough to impel me to accept your marriage proposal!”

And that is when his true mask falls, betraying his intentions.

“Unfortunately, you give me no other choice, Y/N. I am not going to take no as answer.”

By saying this, he kidnaps you.

***

Mr Skywalker’s POV.

“I have a bad feeling about Y/N”, says Anakin out of blue. “We have to find her. Now!”

Obi-Wan has a funny expression stamped in his face as he looks at Anakin whilst Ahsoka struggles to cover her giggles.

“I thought you despised her, Anakin. Weren’t you lecturing me the other day about how her family would win too much if I decided to carry on with this courtship?”

Anakin throws his hands up in the air, but his Master could see a flush reddening his cheeks.

“This has nothing to do with the matter in question, Ben! Listen to me, I think Mr Collins is going to try something at the Bennets household. We cannot simply carry on with our noble disguises anymore.”

Obi-Wan rests his chin upon his hand, in his usual thoughtful position.

“Hmm. It’s true what you say. I sense a disturbance in the Force. We have to move. But what’s your plan?”

Anakin smirks.

“You will look after Satine’s family and tell her about the nature of our mission all the while I’m going to rescue Y/N.”

“Always the hero, SkyGuy.” Ahsoka makes a grimace. “But what about me? What am I going to do?”

To her consternation, it seems as if Obi-Wan and Anakin had forgotten to include her in the plan.

“You keep up with Obi-Wan. If I need you, you’ll know.”

“This does not sound like a good plan”, Ahsoka shakes her head.

“I have a bad feeling about this”, Obi-Wan agrees.

“Let things go my way and you will thank me later.”

“We follow your way more often than a prudent man should. Believe me, it’s not always we ought to thank you. But alas! What other choice do we have?” So looking upon Ahsoka. “You come with me then, little one.”

They do not split until necessity demands. To the trio’s surprise, Mr Collins is taking you as his hostage and the whole family is in despair. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka comes to aid them all the while, as agreed between them, Anakin deals with the man himself.

It’s a heartbreaking scene for Anakin, which moves his proud heart to some humility. He sees the despair in the eyes of Mrs Bennett, who fears for her daughter’s life, all the while Mr Bennett, appalled by circumstances, considers summoning the guards.

“Mr Bennett, my friend Mr Skywalker is well versed in the arts of Jedi. We are accostumed to these situations”, Obi-Wan tries to reassure him as he places an arm around Satine’s shoulders, comforting her as well. Ahsoka plays the same role with the rest of the family.

He sees it now, therefore, how wrong he’d been with your family. He will save you at whatever cost.

***

Your POV.

There is shock, perplexity and incredulity disputing over your mind and heart. Reason cannot concede that a man like him is capable of such doings. You never expected him to behave like he did.

Though relieved you are because your family is spared, you fear for your life.

What’s going to be now?

You do not know where he’s going to take you and Lord knows what’s in his mind. What you know is that he refuses to talk to you and all pledges fell to deaf ears.

“I’d never take you as a highwayman type, Mr Collins.” You bluntly spit the words of your mind. If you are going to die, you will not waste an opportunity to offend him and shove him with despise.

Annoyed by your constant calling him out, Mr Collings stops by at last and is about to slap your face when he’s prevented from doing so. To the general surprise, Mr Skywalker is there to rescue you.

“Didn’t anyone educate you that one does not simply harm women? Where are your manners, evil man?”

Mr Collins smirks at him. You wish you could thank Mr Skywalker for his presence. This whole scene forces you to change your mind about him. Or perhaps you’ve already done so long ago…

“Ah, Skywalker. So here we are once again…” and he pushes you down to the ground.

You end up falling to a well, which thankfully is not that deep. But you might have twisted your ankle. However, based on the noises you hear, you know there’s a fight going on. As uncomfortable as you might be now, what other choice do you have but to wait for the victor, praying it to be Mr Skywalker?

At least, I live.

But depending on the result of the duel, should you feel optimistic with your prospectives?

Eventually, however, the noise comes to an end. You hold your breath. Who won? You hear hurried steps to where you are. Although you were never a religious person, you pray.

And your prayers are heard, after all.

***

Mr Skywalker’s POV.

His heart is heavy when he sees you being taken into the woods unwillingly by Mr Collins. The fear of losing you makes him realize that he’d been only masking his true feelings for you in a long time.

The Sith agent uses you to attract the attention of the Jedis. It’s a trap, but Anakin knows better. Threats here, threats there, there’s a fight. To his dismay, you are pushed to a well, but he cannot check on you right now.

He picks his saber and fights Mr Collins away. How the hell did he manage to hid his signature? It’s concerning.

But this is a question for later. Anakin is anxious to put an end to this combat and check on you. The fighting proves to be a little difficult, the Sith agent, however foolish he might appear, becoming a complicated opponent. Nonetheless, he’s gone. Anakin overpowers him.

It’s when he rushes to where you are and manage to use the Force to bring you out of the well carefully. Once you are sat on the grass, he makes sure to look after your safety.

“I have twisted my ankle”, you tell him softly. Anakin feels your vulnerability, it shakes him to see it. Your eyes are red, the result of tears, and you look broken. Devastated. You, who once seemed to him the epithet of strength. “But I’ll be fine.”

And there it is again. Your pride. Your fierce. Anakin looks at you just as you look at him. There’s something to say, but neither can verbalize it. And when he opens his mouth, he’s interrupted by Ahsoka.

“Silence fell over here and I feared the worst”, she says, concerned.

The moment is over. He sees disappointment in your face, but so far that’s it. Anakin makes sure to heal your ankle with the Force, before he responds his sister:

“Thanks, Snips. I appreciate your gesture. We are all good now and the bad man is defeated.”

“Are you well, Miss Y/N?”

“Your brother is looking well after me”, Anakin hears you say and it makes him blush. Lucky for him, his head is lowered, eyes focused on what he’s doing. “Thank you, lady Ahsoka. And my lord, mr Skywalker. My family and I owe you.”

The two of you seem to lock gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to be helpful, madam”, says Anakin. “It’s the least I could do, after all”.

Ahsoka notices there’s something going on, so she quickly excuses herself by returning to the Bennets.

“You are healed”, he says, helping you stand.

As you do, you begin to clean the skirts of your gown, but your eyes do not leave his. Anakin’s heart skips a beat.

“I owe you…”

“No. You owe me nothing.” He cuts you. “I meant it what I say.”

You nod, suddenly shy. Anakin has to struggle with himself not to help fix your hair and…kiss you.

“I… thank you, sir. It’s best for us to go back.”

“Indeed.”

The two of you begin to walk out of the woods, when Anakin holds your wrist. It’s unlike him to let that moment go.

You turn back at him, surprised by his gesture. But it’s when you see the urgent look he gives you, that you understand. Your heart races loud.

“Y/N”, he begins.

“Yes, Mr Skywalker?”

He swallows hard. There’s waiting. He cannot let go of your hand and neither can you. Silence seems to break with the sound of birds flying in the forest. Skies appear to bring an unwelcoming rain. It’s been such a day for both, but the waiting persists. Anakin knows it, and you don’t have to speak to be understood.

Nonetheless, you are amazed when he says:

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“Mr Skywalker…”

“I have been proud. I…” Anakin steps closer to you. Enough to close distance between the two of you, enough to make you smell his scent.

You look up at him. Was he ever this tall? His features, so handsome? His eyes, so intense? You open your mouth, suddenly dried.

“I must know if you return this feelings”, says Anakin. “If not, I understand. I shall leave and never bother you again.”

The rain starts to fall. You do not mind, though. Neither does he.

“Mr Skywalker”, you say softly. Is there a need to fight the urge of your heart? Love is the death of pride, after all. “Yes, I love you mostly ardently with all my being.”

A smile that reaches your eyes is all that it takes before he is consented to kiss you. So does the gallantly knight, who pulls you against him and press his lips right into yours.

***

Epilogue.

To Mrs Bennet’s delight, there’s double weddings in the family and both take place in the same time, at the church as tradition commends.

Miss Satine is now Mrs Kenobi. Little she needs to be happy and him as well as long as they are together. They decide to live in one of Mr. Kenobi’s properties in England, settling in a white manor in Yorkshire. Though Mr Kenobi would not leave the order of Knights he’s a part to, he might change his mind at the start of the birth of his children. In this particular matter, Mrs Kenobi would delight her family by being very much fertile. She was never happier.

Miss Y/N Bennett is now Mrs Skywalker. On the day of your marriage, you finally conceded your beloved husband’s wish in playing piano with Ahsoka. You also end up joining the order of knights, much to Anakin’s consternation because, in his words, “you’ll double my concerns!”

Nonetheless, you remind him it’s a good opportunity to spend more time together, which he agrees. He ends up being your Master, a title you’d use naughtily and unholily in bedroom—and that might result in the birth of twins in one year and another child in the year after. Because you want a big family like your sister’s, and because you were raised in such a warm environment, you want a large offspring. Anakin is more than happy in complying with your wishes.

But after the birth of your third child, a girl, you decide it’s too much becoming a Jedi due to your constant worry about your children. Anakin teases you this idea was his and thus he’s a great victor of his cause, so you let him think that because it’s cute.

In the end, he ends leaving the order too especially after the whole Palpatine story and the two of you move to Devonshire. There, you’d continue to live your lives as a couple with the very least ten children.

#star wars #Star Wars imagine #imagine Star Wars #Anakin Skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #duchess satine #Ahsoka Tano #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker x y/n #Anakin Skywalker x you #Anakin Skywalker fic #Jane Austen #Pride and Prejudice #Lizzie Bennett #Mr Darcy

[gatoru]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: toge inumaki isn't good with words. he is, however, really good with actions -- or "post mission moments, in which he makes sure you're taken care of".

warnings: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP TO 18+, brief mentions of danger and death, canon level violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive at the end.

author's note: hey everyone! this is my first time writing an actual piece for jjk. please lemme know what you think :) reblogs/comments are highly welcome! enjoy xx

It isn’t that Inumaki is bad with words – no, it’s the exact opposite. Toge Inumaki is way too good with words, and that puts a toll on him sometimes.

He sat beside you, on the beatdown sofa in the center of the common room – a ritual you’re way too used to now. Some sort of aftercare, although not the one you long for. It’s been a few months that, after each mission, you and Toge would escape the others – that being your fellow classmates and your sensei – in order to take care of each other. 

Tonight, you care for each other the only way you know how to, after a particularly tough mission: throwing a movie night. 

As you run your fingers through his platinum hair, eyes glued to the television in front of you, you hear him hum gently against the crook of your neck. As soon as you hear the simple sound leave his throat, you forget everything about the movie playing in front of you – the femme fatale character on her way to seek revenge would have to wait. 

Toge has his fingertips dancing against your shoulder, easing the tensioned muscle. You look at him in confusion, eyebrows knitted – until he mentions for you to turn around, with a simple gesture of his hand. 

Oh, you understand now: you understand he’s trying to take care of you. You chuckle in response to his kind action, but complying nonetheless. You know that look on his face way too well: time to rest. 

The blonde actress screams, blood splattered against  her face and clothes. The scene is cheesy, corny even. Toge Inumaki pays no attention to it whatsoever, given the fact you’re right in front of him, taking your hoodie off in order to give him better access to your back. That leaves you in only sweatpants and a bra – and, he may be biased , but the platinum haired boy blushes at the sight of you. 

It wasn’t the first time he’s seen you like this – your soft skin exposed to his skilled hands, even though not in the way he fantasizes about. The both of you have been dancing with your hands tied for quite some time now, playing this game of cat and mouse: it was a matter of who would confess their crimes first. 

A pleasurable sound leaves your chest as Inumaki’s fingers massage your shoulders. You mumble a soft “thank you” to which he doesn’t respond. These are the moments in which Toge Inumaki wishes he could speak normally, so that he could let you know everything he feels: you’re welcome. I love spending my time with you. Please don’t die. 

Missions started to feel scarrier ever since you came into picture, ever since he got something to worry about other than himself. Toge found himself doing his very best to protect you, although everyone – you and your fellow classmates – were kind enough to not mention how he jumped in front of you a few hours ago, so the curse wouldn’t stab you with one of its thorns – it barely hurt him, just a deep scratch on his rib. Toge insisted he was doing fine. 

“If anything, I should be the one taking care of you.” 

“Okaka.”

You smile, turning your head in his direction. Toge looks like a cherub: flushed cheeks due to the cold, pretty eyes looking up at you like you hung the moon, fair hair now messy. 

“You’re so stubborn.”

“Sake.”

At least he agrees with you, you think to yourself. 

Inumaki gently presses his warm palms against your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. He hopes you know what he wants to say: I care for you. I trust you. I–

“I love you.” 

The words fall from your lips before you can actually stop them from making their way outside of your heart. Your blood pulses with adrenaline, fear that you might have overstepped boundaries or upset him in any way. 

And, unfortunately, there’s no way Inumaki can repeat your words towards you, letting his love be known to the world. No, there’s no way he can shout at the top of his lungs or whisper it against your ears. 

His face gets closer, then, his palms still warm against your face. He’s so incredibly close, you can feel his breath fanning over your face. You can see the subtle lilac shade from his eyes, and how they’re so expressive. 

Toge kisses you. Full of love and unspoken words, the kiss is filled with promises. He swears to himself he’ll let you know he loves you in every possible way, he’ll make sure you’ll never feel unloved. His heart and head and soul are full of you and only you. 

His lips slide against yours in perfect harmony, and you smile into the kiss. Your arms snake around his neck as his palms find your waist, pulling you towards him, making you sit on his lap so he can feel you close to him.

By the end of the night, there’s no way you won’t feel his love. 

#toge inumaki x y/n #toge inumaki x you #inumaki x you #inumaki angst #poppy writes

[sherlkore]

DC OC list

Thomas Wayne Jr.

Name: Thomas Wayne Jr.

Age: 20

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 6'2

Father: Bruce Wayne

Mother: Katherine Wayne

Bruce would never think he'd be a good husband, let alone a father, but after finding the love of his life, Katherine, who saved his life more than once, he promised himself that he would do anything to keep them safe. When Thomas was born, he made it his mission to protect him at all costs.

Yes, Thomas was named after his grandfather, though they couldn't be more different than eachother, Thomas believed that his grandfather wasn't that much of a saint everyone thought he was. He didn't try to prove it to anyone though, he didn't want his family to get hurt because of him, so he kept his thoughts and opinions to himself. He is quite confident in himself when it comes to certain things, but overall he doesn't like crowded places and usually avoids going to the parties that his family is invited (his mother says it's from his father)

Thomas was trained to fight by Alfred and his father. Also growing up he learned everything about the criminal world, since Bruce wanted for him to be able to protect himself when he wasn't around. He was homeschooled, of course, since Bruce did not trust the knowledge of the teachers in schools.

Delia Prince

Name: Delia Prince

Age: 19

Height: 6'1

Sexuality: Pansexual

Species: demigod

Powers: Superhuman Strength, Superhuman Durability, Flight, Superhuman Speed, Superhuman Reflexes, Superhuman Agility, Superhuman Stamina, Accelerated Healing, Enhanced Senses (hearing, vision, smell and etc), Animal Empathy, Immortality, Reality Alteration, Precognition, Retrocognition.

Equipment: Bracelets of Submission, Atlantiades' Armor, Shield of Alcippe, Magical Sword (A sword forged by Hephaestus, said to be sharp enough to cut the electrons off an atom.), Bow & arrow specially made for her.

Mother: Diana Prince

Father: David Michaels

Delia was born with her mother's abilities but had her father's attitude, she's stubborn, hardworking, caring and a little bit cocky.

Even though she's immortal, she ages like humans, which gives her time to enjoy her life. Let's be real, she's not great at school, but she's not bad at it either, she's excellent at certain subjects, history being one of them. She's not that popular in school, but fortunately she doesn't get bullied.

Diana would teach her how to defend herself, how to wield a sword and a shield and also teaches her more about her abilities, her father would teach her archery and being a quick learner it didn't take long for Delia to learn all that stuff.

Elyse Kent

Name: Elyse Kent

Age: 20

Height: 6'1

Sexuality: Bisexual

Powers: flight, superhuman strength, x-ray vision, heat vision, cold breath, super-speed, enhanced hearing, and nigh-invulnerability, telescopic and microscopic vision.

Father: Clark Kent

Mother: Lois Lane

As you may have guessed, Elyse was born with her father's abilities, that were quite hard to get used to. Clark of course helped her with them and was extremely careful so she wouldn't accidentally destroy half of the city. Which is why she was homeschooled till she was fully able to control them. Clark told her to not use her powers no matter what (basically telling her to not make the same mistakes as him when he was young) which she complied until she saw a kid almost falling out of the window, she had to use her super speed to make it there before he falls.

At first she was seen as a freak but after multiple moments of her saving students, she was basically a hero to the kids. Clark at first didn't really liked her showing her powers so often but then just accepted the fact that her daughter was a hero, either he wanted it or not.

Elyse, like her father, is kind but curious like her mother (even too curious sometimes), would always be there to save the day, but can be a little mean at times. Clark doesn't like the attitude and the sarcastic comments she gives to him when she's upset.

Who's your favourite?👀

@msrochelleromanofffelton @jackiequick @nyxphie @blueboirick

[dishtothedeath]

Whales Swim in The Starry Sky || Producer || MM.3 || RE: erm.

Shouting, anger, threats to kill him- in truth that's what he had expected from Alfie.

Instead he got the hatred and anger he expected from Alfie in Giselle.

And Giselle's tears which he expected he got from-

"... Of course... before I answer, my offer to you both is always still on the table. Regardless of what I say, there's no hard feelings on my end regardless of the choice you make."

As if he still had room to act like the offer changed much. The offer that made sense to him when he had heard it and used as well. After all he knew their reactions never would be good, not when he's reasonings were so...

"I should start with asking Araceli for anything is a bit of a lost cause... she was just a hire because I was too stubborn to care about assisting on the reality tv side of things..."

As for his reasons, the Producer found himself glazing over that aspect of the question.

"... I can't be sure if we were really friends... By agreement we were... but ah... I mean you were rather cruel to me weren't you? Agreeing to be my first friend, then prioritizing the one you were infatuated with despite my concerns, and then I comforted you after everything and you pushed me away when I almost died-- I really thought I almost did too you know... there was no real protections made for me until after that. I was just doing my job trying to stop someone from discovering too much and he used the chance to mess with me…

I did still enjoy my time around you despite those things though."

Giving a sigh, the Producer leans back and moves through his tablet. Not truly working on anything, instead just idly reviewing data, reviewing stability levels, making a few temporary adjustments on second nature.

"...For what it's worth, which isn't much however... I was honest when I said I would like for us three to get out. If I had control over those who killed I would have done something I feel… If that’s friendship, then maybe we were friends…"

But he didn't and Alfie was still dead. Technically, he had the power to stop things just before that. But he had told Araceli to not kill, and he had assumed she would understand that he was the one person never allowed to leave the island early. Still she was too optimistic, and still cowered out.

And then there was the other one vying for his attention. After being told forget it, it would be so easy, so simple to just comply with the request.

“... Manqian you think to lowly of yourself if you're seeing me now, aware I attempted to override the execution by any means possible and I don't want you alive… though perhaps that was selfish of me."

Eyes remaining trained on his tablet, he continues his idle work.

"Our last conversation was selfish too, after all I knew something would have to give eventually after Fergus’ little stunt, so I apologize for both of those things. I knew it would be unfair, yet I still acted as I did.

Still... you don't really know much about me anyways since you're asking those questions. Just infatuated with me because I was nice... so...”

Had he not bubbled up with laughter, he likely would have been more sound in his response, but he had found himself caught up without a weight on his shoulder for a moment, a moment too long.

Perhaps he had expected a bit more time before he had to deal with the consequences. Even though there were consequences he expected to reach him no matter what.

There was a question he should answer really.

“... The research I’ve gathered should potentially assist your sister… Baozhai was it? If nothing else… you should be able to properly reunite with her. While not an intended part of this, it seems you all want something good to come out of it all.

So there... Consider it payment for letting me laugh... it was nice."

He really should answer that question more directly.

#submission #mm #trial #haruki

[broccolydia]

felt like putting lydia and eirwen together for no fucking reason.

She likes pretty things, but she hates her. In all honesty, she hates all of her patients. This one makes her want to vomit.

They take her to Lydia because her master refuses to leave her side. This young girl, a child, is utterly disfigured. Her face is not a face anymore-- it's not a scar, not an ugly mark but the total anihilation of her features. The explosion spaired her eyes. Eirwen is glad-- she remembers her. All silence, modest and concealing outfits. But no one could forget those eyes. Sorceresses don't have those, bright and expressive and filled with things she doesn't say.

It's not the gore that makes her want to throw up, she has seen worse. What she hates about this child is her absolute disregard for anything that isn't that man. Eirwen opens her mind so Lydia can use telepathy, and she's asking when can she go back to work.

Eirwen loves chaos-- hates being a puppet for chaos, but likes witnessing it from a safe distance. And Vilgefortz is and will always be chaos' favorite pet. She's delighted by that. She wants to see it all unravel, even if it means the world's ending. It's a sick thought--- Eirwen is twisted, but she knows that already.

Lydia? She's just a girl. She's just a stupid girl who is in love. The most common tale in the book. A boring one.

She doesn't know the depths of it. She doesn't know half of it. If she knew---

She's seen love. When her patients die, she sees it in their husbands, wives and children. The same expression. The one Vilgefortz has. Eirwen knows, and he doesn't. She doesn't say it. Love can bring chaos, but chaos has bigger plans for him.

The elven anathema turns out to be a powerful curse. Eirwen is the best there is, and even she can't regenerate tissue when it comes from such a powerful curse. Lydia telephatically says she understands, and Eirwen is tempted to roll her eyes out of pure disgust. It takes her a week with Lydia to understand that statement did not come from plain disregard of her own safety, but because of her knowledge about the curse. Turns out, Lydia is smart. They talk about it for hours while Eirwen judges her wardrobe. They both analyse the possible repercusions on her body. They both realise there could be more. Eirwen has a job to do.

"I need you to undress. Completely."

Something in Lydia's eyes tell Eirwen she'd rather get disfigured again than comply.

The fact that he convinces her makes Eirwen want to puke again. So much potential, as Philippa once said, and it's all wasted because she dances to the beat imposed by him. A stubborn love. It's disgusting. It's cliche. It's boring.

She's sitting on a chair and Lydia stands with her back to her. Eirwen works the laces of the corset with ease and expertise. She's done it so many times and for so many different reasons. The fabric pools around Lydia's ankles and she shivers. She's uncomfortable. And Eirwen's jaw drops. Lydia turns around.

And Eirwen kicks the door open.

"Oh, no, oh, no no no! WHERE IS HE?"

She's a hurricane. The servants stare at her in disbelief. He's there, with a raised eyebrow. Eirwen knows it has to be his fault.

"HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY TAKE THAT AWAY FROM THIS WORLD?"

The confusion remains. She yells.

"I've seen naked people! It's my job! I see them all the time! I work with naked bodies daily! Dead and alive! I've fucked plenty! Men and women! A fucking dragon once! I'm a sight whenever I'm naked! NEVER in my LIFE have I seen a body like THAT"

She has to be restrained. Physically.

"And you, you dangerous lunatic, you let her run around IN THOSE DRESSES? That cover ALL of it? That HIDE all of that?! You should be PUT TO TRIAL AND EXECUTED! YOU'RE MAD!"

Eirwen loves chaos. And turns out, hates him more than she hates her, now.

"OH THE FUCKING NERVE OF HIM! THIS IS WHY NO ONE LIKES YOU, VILGEFORTZ!"

Years later she's going to be the one that nurses him too. She's going to hear tales of his wickedness. And, in Eirwen's mind, none of it would compare to the atrocity of the dresses.

#; drabble.

[aherequirements]

The Old Beggar and the Little Girl (Fable)

There was once an old beggar panhandling in the streets. Day and night he asked, pleaded, and begged passersby. He begged for food, money, shelter, clothing, and attention. There were those that gave the beggar what he needed but most of the time, his cries fell on deaf ears. "It's alright," he would often think to himself. "I am old and decrepit, no one in their right minds would take pity on a beggar like me." The old beggar accepted his fate. He accepted that he would leave this world the way he entered it. Alone.

One fateful day, he chanced upon a little girl crying on the sidewalk. She couldn't have been more than the age of 12. "Poor child," most people said as they walked past her. Despite that, no one came to her aid. The old beggar saw this. "Hypocrites!" the old beggar yelled in his mind. "If she's so pitiful, then why aren't you helping her?" Repulsed by the passersby, he approached the girl and squatted next to the little girl's sobbing figure. The beggar spoke to the little girl in a calm and soothing voice. Asking what her name was, where her parents were, and if she's eaten. The little girl complied, giving her name, telling the old beggar that her parents abandoned her two days ago, and that she hasn't eaten since her parents left her and never came back. The old beggar rummaged through his worn-out satchel, looking for the measly collection from panhandling yesterday. He had enough for a meal for the both of them. So he took the little girl to sidewalk stand selling food. He bought four sandwiches, one for him and three for her. Then, he took the little girl to a local shelter for abandoned children. But the little girl refused to let go of the beggar's hand when it was time go. She insisted that it would better for her to be with the old beggar. It moved the shelter director's heart, seeing the bond that has developed between the old beggar and the little girl in a short amount of time. It moved her so much that the director decided to also take in the old beggar on top of the little girl. Provided that the old beggar worked for his stay in the shelter. Both the old beggar and the little girl jumped for joy.

Six years have passed since that fateful encounter. The old beggar worked while the little girl went to school. Time had been very kind to the little girl. She learned to be more confident. Gone are her tearful eyes. Her eyes are now filled with determination. She's reached heights that pierced through the sky. While time had been kind to the little girl, the same could not be said for the old beggar. He fell into a routine. He didn't improve himself in anyway. He was still the old beggar all those years ago. As time went by, he became insecure. He watched as the little girl grew and developed into what she is now. He grew fearful that one day she might leave him. So he pulled her down to his level. He became a leech that sucked away at the girl's happiness and confidence. He gaslit the girl into thinking that only he can give her the validation she so desired. But the girl became wiser. She saw through the old beggar's ploy. So she confronted him.

"You are an asshole," the girl said with tears in her eyes. "You are too damaged or jaded for your own good that you're not open to seeing things in a different light. You don't get to be stubborn and insist your ways on other people. That's exactly how you lose people, and that's how you lost me. I don't want to do anything with you. I feel utterly repulsed by you. You've been a great friend to me for a long time, but it's come to a point where you're not bound to change your ways and I'm not here for that. I want to live, and I won't let any person say a snide remark for my progress when it took me this long to gather myself. I only liked the validation that you gave my feelings. We grew apart, most of that being my fault but I don't regret it. It's been great having you on my side, but this where I have to say goodbye."

The old beggar was silent. He knew this was coming from the moment he saw the girl's success. He collected himself and then began to reply. "I'm sorry," he started. "I wish I could've been better. But you're right, I'm too far gone. You're too high up for me to reach. I kept fooling myself that we were equals. But deep down I knew I was just a leech, sucking away at you, pulling you down to my level. I lost everything and now I've lost you too. I want to beg. I want to promise you everything just so you'd stay. But I know this is better for you. I wish you the best. I hope you reach greater heights than what I envisioned of you. We had a great run. But you're right. You're no longer the girl I met all those years ago. You're a woman now. While I stayed the same. I can no longer change. I can no longer move forward. This is goodbye. I love you."

With that, the little girl-no- the woman left the shelter never to return again. She would gain more success than anyone would ever expect. She stays in contact with the shelter but not with the beggar. Because the beggar soon died of grief. He deeply regrets the things he's done. But it's too late. The little girl is a woman now.

Moral of the story: We should not be threatened by our friends' growth. We must support them, cherish them, and be proud of them.

[mirahuyooo]

Studio Dates | myg

Studio Dates

— Nothing beats spending the late hours in your boyfriend's studio. 

Word Count: 857

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Content/s: FLUFF, established relationship, studio date (duh), MiN YOONGI—affectionate and sOFT Min Yoongi, some wholesome feels, suggestive themes (GASSPPP such sin), it's implied that you have a hand kink (we all do) but Yoongi doesn't question it (LmAO)

[masterlist] 

A/N: this has been in the drafts for a whileee I haven’t been able to do a lot of writing so here’s all I have (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

ALSO, am i going to be stubborn and consider that anything under 1k words is a drabble when it's supposed to be called flash-fiction and drabbles are specifically 100 words only??? Yes :DDDD enJOY BOYFRIEND YOONGI!! (this is me and my random 3 AM thoughts admiring Yoongi's hands stfu)

In silence, you sit with your boyfriend in his studio, the both of you doing idle work and simply basking in each other's presence. Most days were spent like this, and neither of you mind. 

There's a comfort, really, in knowing that the other was there. It was this way that you get to spend time with him without feeling like a burden for taking too much of his work time. Yoongi finds the same sentiments in being able to spend time and not feeling like his work is tearing his relationship apart. Fueled by this comfort, you both also tend to have more motivation to get more done (sometimes—other times not really. You both can get very distracting to one another)

And so, here you were, flipping through a textbook and sending information back and forth with your groupmate for an upcoming project. All the while, Yoongi does his magic on his desk not far from you, a faint melody coming from his headphones. 

On the table before you was a mug you had abandoned at some point, the tea inside having gone cold. This meant that it's been quite some time after the little snack break you had, and considering the fact that your boyfriend had refused your gracious offer to munch on a sandwich with you then, you knew well Yoongi was working on an empty stomach by now. On his desk, he even cradles a similar mug to yours with probably similarly cold tea in it. 

You send one last text to your classmate, telling her to let you know about her findings and that you were going to eat dinner now. With your phone no longer of use, you set it down to stand up and stretch, a groan leaving your lips as you did so. 

It doesn't take much to go over Yoongi's swiveling chair and rest both hands on his shoulders. You lightly pull him away, and your boyfriend readily takes this as a signal to take the headphones off and turn his attention to you. 

"Food break," you simply tell him, before glancing at the clock. “It’s around dinner time now actually.” 

Yoongi nods, hand lightly tugging you down by the loop of your jeans to settle on his lap as the other reaches for his phone. "Do you want to order in or should we go out?" he asks, voice a little hoarse from being unused for the past few hours. 

A light huff escapes your lips—a product of all the hours your project drained out of you. you ease back into your boyfriend, not at all having any plans to leave the particular seat you were given. "In," you reply, now quite comfortable.

Yoongi is quick to pull up a food delivery app, scrolling through options. "What do you want?" he asks as his other hand snakes over your tummy.

You could very well fall asleep in your place—if his touch wasn't making you feel giddy tingles in the first place. "I'm craving something Italian," you managed to say, head filling with the soft memories of your previous dinner date at home. "Something like the pasta you made last week."

Behind you, Yoongi smiles, replying only with a hum and leaving you to your own devices as he complies.

You take the time to relish in the sensation of being in Yoongi's arms. Your head rested back onto his shoulder as his frame embraces you from behind, your body fitting right into his. In his hand was his phone while the other fell prey to your clutches. 

You look at every detail of his hand—the veins that laid across his skin, the shape of the fingers you knew very well, the palm that conquered yours—and you come to a shameless conclusion. "Your hands are so pretty, Yoongi," you tell him, voice soft and dazed. "I don't know if I want to hold it or suck it."

A second or two passes, him processing the words you just uttered into existence, but you soon feel him chuckle behind you. A lingering kiss was placed on your temple, your boyfriend not asking any further questions. "You can always do both, jagi," he nonchalantly concedes, unbothered as his hot breath fans your skin and sends shivers down your spine. 

"I like the sound of that," you muse, earning yourself a half-hearted scoff. There's a giddy grin of mischief that seizes your smile, but you neither hold nor suck his hand. Instead, you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on the back, hugging the arm close to your chest. 

You were in no rush to worry about what to do with his hands or him. He is yours, after all. 

Finally finishing the order details, your boyfriend sets his phone down and wraps the once occupied arm around your middle. You were now effectively being snuggled. "Food will be here in 30," he tells you with a kiss to the cheek, earning a grumble from your stomach. In spite of the hungry protest, however, you and Yoongi chuckle. 

Aah yes, you wouldn't change this for the world. 

#bts #bts au #bts writing #bangtan sonyeondan #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts min yoongi #bts min yoongi x reader #bts min yoongi imagines #bts drabbles #bts min yoongi fluff #min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi fluff

[xiao-cafe]

hello! i see requests are open (sorry if you closed them and i didn't realize then feel free to discard this one!) could i maybe ask for hcs of diluc and kaeya (separately) comforting their fem! s/o who regrets having cut her hair short please? i'm in this situation myself now hoping for my shoulder length hair to grow back to mid back as it was before 😭 thank u so much! and sorry if this request is weird or anything! it's ok if you don't write it <3 please have a good week and stay safe ❤

comforting s/o who regrets cutting their hair short hcs

character(s): diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao

tags: fluff, some crack cuz that’s on brand for me

a/n: hello! no worries your request isn’t that weird lol,, i hope you don’t mind if i add more characters and make it gn!reader !

♡ diluc

he’s so sweet. he immediately assures you that you still look amazing with shorter hair

you’re in for a lot of hugs and kisses as diluc makes sure to chase your frown away, replacing it with your sweet smiles instead

but if you’re feeling stubborn, diluc will most definitely pull out the big guns and offer to cut his hair as short as yours

“no! you can’t desecrate your hair with kitchen scissors!” you yell at him, hastily plucking the scissors out of his grasp before he cuts of a chunk of his luscious red hair.

you’re fuss over him and his hair as you place the scissors far far away, explaining to diluc that his hair was a far more precious asset than any of his other qualities

“we could’ve matched,” he retorts simply, watching your reaction with great interest as your eyes go wide and you’re launching off into another speech about how you could just grow your hair out but diluc’s head of untamed wildness was not something that could so easily be grown back

at least you’re smiling now, diluc thinks as he watches you reach up to card your fingers through his hair

♡ kaeya

he tries his best not to laugh when you pout at him, lamenting about your new haircut

still laughs anyway

“it’s not that bad,” he’ll say as he attempts, badly, to soothe your ruffled feathers

“so you think it’s still somewhat bad?”

kaeya scrambles for an appropriate response. his hands will shoot up in a surrendering gesture as he tries to assure you that that’s not what he meant

he’ll start laying on the compliments as he tries to distract you from any kind of negative emotions

“you’re alluring as ever, even with shorter hair,” he’ll say as he plays with the ends of your hair, rubbing it between his fingers

tries to change the topic by asking if you’re hungry or tired and offers to cook for you. after all the cure to an upset s/o is through good food

you’re not easily fooled but you accept the offer anyway, curious to see what he’ll make for you

♡ childe

fatui man immediately offers to get revenge on your barber for you

“want me to shave their head bald? no they might look good with a bald head… maybe i’ll just shave a stripe down the center like an anti mohawk?”

you have to restrain him by forcibly dragging him back indoors by the collar

“my being upset about my haircut doesn’t mean you can harass an innocent person. now repeat after me ‘i cannot harass innocent people’,” you say as childe kneels on the floor

it takes one ☝️ smack against his arm to get him to comply and repeat after you

“i cannot harass innocent people- BUT WHY DID YOU SMACK ME SO HARD?” childe wails, pushing up his sleeves to show you the redness of your handprint on his pale skin.

“oh wait. it kinda looks good on me, y’know like a mark of possession sorta thing.”

too stunned to speak, it takes a few seconds for you to properly register what he’s just said. “oh my god… AJAX.”

you’re too occupied with your idiot boyfriend to even remember what you were upset about in the first place

♡ xiao

literally doesn’t understand why you’re upset but tries his best to soothe you by awkwardly patting your back

“your hair will grow back,” he states, matter-of-factly.

when that doesn’t work and you continue to talk about how you regret your haircut, xiao will ask you if there’s anything he can do to make you feel better

“should i ask cloud retainer if they can produce a method to make your hair grow faster?”

“xiao… cloud retainer is an engineer, I don’t think they know how to do that.”

you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he tries to think of the best say to help you feel better

“maybe you can just stay by my side? it would make me feel a lot better if i can lean on your shoulder,” you suggest shyly as you avert your eyes

oh is that it? xiao thinks but wastes no time in getting comfortable next to you

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact fluff