#planning to have the three of them share it because tomorrow they are leaving

[blowingoffsteam2]

Thinking about Riku overhearing the dock scene again

#thinkin about #him bringing a paopu #planning to have the three of them share it because tomorrow they are leaving #but then he overheard That #and all the pain and rage and fear bubbling up #his worst fear confirmed...getting left behind #and he storms off to the cave crying because that was always a place of comfort #but then he sees the drawing and it makes everything even WORSE #and man...we still don’t know what Kairi was even doing in there #why was she there? #did she find Riku there? #WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT

[starkwlkr]

can you please do a part 4 where ruby’s finds about pregnancy and become jealous, but charles and yn only notices when one night charles is kiss and talking with yn’s belly and without them notice she’s going to her room and do a suitcase, when she returns with them she having tears in her eyes and tell them she going to live with her grand mere since them don’t need and want her anymore now they have another baby, and them become all fluffy with charle’s and yn talking to her and ruby’s being the biggest daddy’s girl

sorry abou my english, i hope you understand

jealousy, jealousy | charles leclerc

ruby is so real for this because i almost did this when i was younger (tbh i still get jealous when my mom praises my other cousins because her and i have a complicated relationship ENOUGH TRAUMA DUMPING SORRY)

When Ruby was told she was going to be a big sister, it didn’t go as planned. She was pretty straight forward about it too.

“Why do you need another baby?” She asked her parents one night during dinner. Charles and Y/n were confused. Ruby always talked about all the kids in her class having siblings. “You have me.”

“Ruby, we love you very much, the new baby isn’t going to change that.” Charles spoke to his daughter.

“Okay,” she wasn’t quite convinced yet. She looked at her mom and noticed her stomach was bigger. “Why is your belly big? Did you eat a lot?”

“Ruby Jules, that’s not a nice thing to say.” Charles sighed. He always wondered how his mom managed to raise three boys, he was having trouble with just Ruby. He made a mental note to thank his mom for everything she had done. “Mama’s belly is big because that’s where your baby brother or sister is. You were in mama’s belly too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Uncle Arthur told me I came from the hospital. I saw pictures of mama and me.” Ruby said, grabbing her juice box from the table and drinking from it.

“Yes, we were in the hospital but before that you were in my belly.” Y/n added.

“When does the baby get here?” Ruby wondered. “Do I have to share my room? I don’t like sharing my toys with a baby.”

“The baby isn’t going to stay in your room. They’re going to stay with mama and daddy. They’re going to be too small so we have to take care of them.” That’s when Charles made a mistake.

It took almost three whole years for Ruby to actually stay in her own room. When Charles would put her to sleep, Ruby’s little legs would take her right back to her parent’s room. Ruby wasn’t afraid of the dark or the ‘monsters’ in her closet, she just wanted to hug her daddy while she slept.

“Why does the baby get to sleep in your room? Why can’t I?” Ruby asked.

“Ruby-”

“I’m leaving.” Ruby mumbled and got down from the chair. She angrily stomped away then a few seconds later, she reappeared just to grab her unfinished juice from the table, then she finally left.

“I knew we should’ve waited until tomorrow. We could’ve gotten her a cake or taken her to the park. She hates us, Charles.” Y/n frowned. She picked up Ruby’s plate and walked over to the sink. She started washing the dishes when Charles came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her small, but visible bump.

“She doesn’t hate us, mon amour. She just doesn’t understand. A couple years from now, her and the baby are going to be best friends.” Charles kissed Y/n’s cheek.

“I hope you’re right.” Y/n put down the washed plate and turned around to face Charles.

“I am right and I’m also right about this one being a boy. He’s going to be a strong, smart boy like his dad.” Charles bent down to place a kiss on Y/n’s belly.

“Really? Because I remember you calling yourself stupid.” Y/n teased. Her hands started playing with Charles’ hair. “And what makes you so sure that baby leclerc is going to be a boy?”

“I just know. We already have a daughter, having a boy would complete our family.” Charles smiled at his wife. “I love you already, baby leclerc.” He looked back at the bump.

Ruby watched from a distance as her dad kissed her mom’s belly multiple times. It broke her heart hearing them call the new baby ‘baby leclerc’. Why couldn’t they name it differently? That’s was her nickname. The baby wasn’t even here and they were already stealing from her. That’s the moment when Ruby decided she wasn’t wanted anymore, not when there was a new baby coming soon.

The four year old walked to her room and started going through her closet, looking for her small princess backpack. When she finally found it, she unzipped it and began to pack her some clothes along with a stuffed animal, her doll, two euros and a book with bedtime stories.

If her parents weren’t going to love her then she was going to the one person she knew would love her no matter what. Pascale lived right across the street from them so Ruby knew exactly where to go. She put on her backpack, grabbed her stuffed animal and walked back to the living room where she found her parents cleaning up before going to bed.

“And where are you going, little one?” Charles quickly noticed the girl with the backpack.

“I’m going to grand-merè house because you don’t love me anymore. She loves me, she gives me ice cream.” Ruby said in a low voice. She didn’t think she was going to cry when she told her mom and dad she was leaving, but here she was, tears coming out her eyes as she stood before them explaining why she was leaving.

“Baby, we will always love you. The new baby isn’t going to replace you. Come here,” Y/n grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her to the sofa so they could have a proper talk. “We love you and the new baby isn’t going to change that. What made you think we didn’t love you anymore?”

Ruby wiped away her tears. “I heard papa call the baby my name. And they’re going to sleep in your room.”

Y/n brought the crying girl into her arms for a hug. “I’m sorry if you felt like we didn’t love you. We love you so much, my pretty girl.”

“I’m sorry for calling your brother or sister baby leclerc. If you want, you can name them. What do want to call the baby?” Charles poked Ruby’s cheek, making the girl laugh.

“I want the baby to be called Steve!” Ruby said confidently.

“Steve? Like the guy from Blues Clues?” Y/n asked.

Ruby nodded. “He’s funny and we sing old macdonald had a farm together!”

“Okay, baby steve it is.” Charles chuckled as he took the girl from his wife’s arms. “I love you, Ruby Jules. You’re my special girl, but don’t tell mama or else she’s going to get jealous.” He whispered to her.

“Okay, daddy.” Ruby nodded, giggling as she did so. “I love you too.” She hugged Charles, her giggles getting louder as Charles tickled her sides.

“Say goodnight to mama … and baby steve. It’s bedtime, baby leclerc.” Charles said.

“Goodnight mama, I love you. Goodnight baby Steve, you’re okay.” Ruby kissed her mom then copied Charles’ actions from earlier and kissed her mom’s belly.

“Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you too.” Y/n kissed Ruby’s cheek and watched as Charles took a laughing Ruby to her room.

Y/n sighed and looked down at her belly. “Baby Steve.” She chuckled at the name. “Come on Steve, it’s bedtime.”

#formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #ferrari #f1 one shot #baby leclerc series #starkwlkr

[janeyseymour]

hi i love ur writings so so much i’m so sorry this idea is rushed but i hope its enough

abbot family is trying to encourage melissa to “get back out there” and meet people after everything she’s been through. she brushes them off constantly until they stage an intervention during lunch and even barb is concerned for her work wife. melissa leaves this lunch with some big feelings because little does everyone know melissa has been seeing someone this whole time. comes home to reader smoking a joint while cooking in the kitchen and reader says something along the lines of “you look like you could use this more than me” and they make a plan together to introduce reader to everyone at a 4th of july bbq

you gonna get what you ask for 🤪 Not edited in the slightest. I got places to be and people to see

Intervention

WC: ~2.35k

It’s been a year and a half since Melissa Schemmenti publicly said no to a marriage proposal. A year and a half since the fiery redhead had gone out with anyone, and she really doesn’t have any plans to start dating again- at least that’s what the Abbott crew thinks.

The truth is, the second grade teacher has been seeing you since the night she went to the casino and bar to blow off some steam after reuniting with Gary to return his things and get her stuff back.

You were at one of the slot machines when the redhead passed by you, laughing.

“What’s so funny, Red?” you asked as you looked up at her.

“You ain’t gonna win no money that way,” the woman stopped in her tracks to tell you. “C’mon. Let me show you how it’s done.”

That night, you stuck by her side as you watched her win thousands of dollars at one table alone, clearing out quite a few men.

It’s late when she finally threw in the towel. She offered to walk you out to you car, and you took her hand in your own.

“So,” you exhaled a small cloud of smoke from the cigarette the two of you were sharing. “What are you gonna do with all that money you just won, pretty lady?”

“Take you out on a date,” Melissa had replied cooly. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven?”

Neither of you looked back.

That was a year and three months ago. While your side of the family knew of your relationship with the teacher (and they absolutely adore her), her crew doesn’t have a single clue of your existence or rather large presence in Melissa’s life- despite the fact that you were now living together and your lives were intertwined.

So whenever anyone at Abbott tells Melissa that they found someone they think she might fancy, she just brushes them off.

“Janine, no offense, but if you think someone is worth dating, I would find them to be-”

“Hey,” Gregory cuts her off.

Melissa just shrugs. “My case in point. Greg, you know I love you like the black son I never had, but you’re boring as hell.”

“Ava, I am not about to go clubbing with you to pick up a man fifteen years my junior,” the redhead rolls her eyes.

“C’mon,” the principal chuckles. “They fun! They’re like energizer bunnies.”

“I barely have the energy to stand and get the remote from the other side of the room,” Melissa retorts as she opens her bottle of iced tea.

“I think you would like him!” Jacob pleads. “He saw your picture and said you were fine.”

“I am fine,” Melissa states, gesturing to her figure. “And I’m just as fine without a partner.”

It’s gotten to the point that even Barbara is concerned about her friend’s adamant denial to get herself back out there. So, the day that Melissa has recess duty, she brings it up to her coworkers.

“Now listen, I am not usually one for meddling in someone else’s love life, but don’t you think it’s concerning that Melissa flat out refuses to even attempt to put herself back out there?” the kindergarten teacher asks to the faculty room.

“Weird as hell,” Ava waltzes in, but having heard the question decides to chime in. “But aye, good for Schemmenti, realizing she don’t need no man in life.”

“I just find it odd…” Barbara taps her chin. “Melissa, while one with a tough exterior, loves love. She’s always wanted someone to spend her time with.”

“Maybe we should stage an intervention,” Jacob suggests. “To really show her that she’s good and healed from the failed proposal and to get back out there.

Gregory looks mildly impressed with that suggestion. “That might work.”

They have no idea that the entire time she’s supposed to be out monitoring the children on the blacktop, she’s smiling down at her phone like an idiot talking to you.

And when she comes home that day, she fully goes through with the things you two had texted about earlier.

The Abbott crew plans an intervention for Melissa- a banner, letters, all of it. When she comes into the staff room, smiling down at a midday text you had sent her, the rest of her colleagues are standing by the couch, looking somber.

“Fuck. Who died?” Melissa’s smile drops immediately.

“No one died, Melissa,” Barbara states.

“But we think a part of you might have,” Janine says dramatically, somberly.

“What the hell are youse talkin’ about?” thee redhead rolls her eyes. 

“Melissa, dear,” Barbara says softly, calmly. She makes her way over to her friend and takes her by the hand to guide her towards the seat they had put in the middle of the room.

One by one, they read the letters that they had all written, expressing their concern for their favorite fiery Italian teacher.

“Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher finishes up. “We all love you dearly, and while we understand that it takes some time to get over the heartache that Gary caused, this is a bit extreme. We are worried.”

“An’ I appreciate the thought and care that you guys put into this,” Melissa tells them with a sigh. “But I promise youse: I’m fine. I don’t need to get back out there.” She almost adds on that it’s because she’s happily seeing someone, and has been since three months after her split from the guy that filled the vending machine.

“Just… know that we’re all here through all of your seasons,” Jacob tells her. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“We do care about you,” Janine says softly, and she offers the redhead a hug. Melissa doesn’t necessarily want to embrace the shorter woman, but she goes into the arms of her colleague.

Gregory just gives her a nod that conveys his love for his coworker, to which she smirks and nods right back in his direction.

“Now, can we eat lunch?” the redhead chuckles.

As the day passes on, Melissa comes to realize just how much her coworkers care for her- their gesture, albeit absolutely ridiculous and dramatic, was heartfelt and full of love. Maybe she should just come clean about the relationship she’s in. Or she could just buy them all some Philly soft pretzels and soda instead to thank them. Yeah… that’s what she’ll do for now before she can talk to you about how the two of you want to go public about your being together.

She orders the pretzels to be delivered to the school before the day is done, and when everyone is reconvening back in the faculty room to grab their lunch bags before heading home, Melissa makes sure she’s the first one down there. She has the box on one of the tables, along with a some cans of soda. Whatever they don’t take, the redhead knows will be eaten and drank at home.

“Oi,” she calls to her friends. “Come get a pretzel and a soda as my thanks for carin’ about me so much.”

They all light up at the sight of the gesture, aside from Gregory.

“I do not like pretzels, or soda, and for that reason I will not take one,” the man says as his friends dive in. “But thank you.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “I figured you would say that. Which is why I got you a bag of peanuts and a water.”

He looks mildly impressed and takes the offered items gratefully.

Once again, they all voice their love and care for the woman that gave them a salty treat before heading out for the night. Everyone except for Barbara. She waits for Melissa to clean up and gather her things before walking out with the woman.

“That was very sweet of you,” the kindergarten teacher nudges her friend.

Melissa huffs. “Oi. Don’t knock me like that.” She readjusts her grip on the small box of pretzels before sighing. “But it was just a thank you for caring.”

“We care about you a lot more than you know,” Barbara smiles. “And just so you know… you are a Philly eleven, and I do think you should get yourself back out there. I know it can be scary to put your heart back out there, but even if it ends in heartbreak and a few smashed in headlights, I will always be here to help you pick up the pieces.”

“I know, Barb,” the redhead says softly, so out of character. “Thank you.”

“Think about it!” the older woman says as she parts and heads off in the direction of her car.

With a sigh, Melissa unlocks her car and gets everything settled before slumping into the front seat.

Coming home with a treat, she texts you.

Is it you? You reply back.

She chuckles at that. She can practically see the smirk written on your face. You’ll see.

When she pulls in, she can smell you before she sees you. You’re clearing smoking, but she can also smell the delicious dinner that you’re making. 

The redhead makes her way into the house, deep in thought of how much her friends are looking out for her, and attempting to piece together how to approach you about the topic of coming out.

It’s odd. Your girlfriend makes her way into the kitchen and places the box of pretzels down, but she doesn’t make her way over to you the way that she usually does. Instead, she’s looking down at the food, brows furrowed and deep in thought. 

You turn the burner down to ensure that the food won’t burn or bubble over before making your way behind Melissa. You wrap the arm that isn’t holding the joint around her waist before holding it up to her lips and offering her some. Even in your somewhat inebriated state, you know something is up with her.

“You look like you could use this more than me,” you chuckle softly.

She shrugs, but does take a hit before blowing the smoke out.

“Hard day?” you ask her gently. “Need to be taken care of?”

Again, she shrugs. She doesn’t really know what to say. This is so unlike Melissa. Usually, she comes in huffing about the ridiculous antics of her boss, she bounces on her toes when she tells you the sweet things the kids had done or said, and she is more than willing to dish out the tea that was spilled in the staff lounge earlier that day.

“Mel?” you ask softly, taking a cheek in your hand and cupping it gently. You force her to look at you. “What happened today?”

She laughs softly, before full out cackling. This sudden change in mood startles you.

“Mel, babe, you’re scaring me,” you tell her. “What happened?”

She sits down and plucks the joint out of your hand. “The crew planned an intervention for me,” she tells you with a chuckle as you go back over to the stove.

You turn. “Oh?”

She nods, a playful smirk on her face.

“For?” you raise a brow. You turn your attention back to dinner. “Can I guess?”

“Sure, hun,” she laughs as she takes another drag.

  “The aggression that you email the parents with?” No. “The heeled boots hitting the linoleum tile too loudly when you’re pissed?” No. “The arson?” No. “The threats of a bare knuckle fist fight?”

“Jesus,” Melissa laughs. “When you list all of that out, I sound like a terrible person.”

“No,” you say quickly. “I love everything about you!”

“I know you do,” she chuckles. “But no. None of that.”

“Then what?”

“My love life.”

“Your love life?” you turn to look at her incredulously.

“My love life,” the redhead sighs. “They had a banner, they had letters, they had the chair in the middle of the room… everything. And for me. When I don’t even have a problem with my love life.”

“So why did you come in lookin’ all sad?”

“Not sad… just thoughtful. The things they said… it showed me how lucky I am to have coworkers that care for me as deeply as they do. So at the end of the day, I had pretzels for them to show my gratitude. And after, Barbara and I walked out together… and… how would you feel about telling people that we’re together?”

You finish stirring the food and plating it before bringing it over to the table where your girlfriend is sitting. You set the two dishes in front of her before sliding into her lap. You finish off the joint together before smiling.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell her. “I’ve just been waiting for you to be.”

“Yeah?” she asks you as she kisses your temple.

You nod before taking a bite of your dinner. Damn, between the two of you, you should open your own restaurant. “We’ve been together for over a year, living together since six months in, I don’t plan on going anywhere, and I would hope you don’t either. I think it’s time.”

“I think so too,” she says softly. “But with the end of the year comin’ up… we’re all crazy busy.”

“So we can organize something for after the school year?” you suggest. “Maybe a fourth of July barbecue?”

So that’s what the two of you do. Your girlfriend walks into school on the last day and tells her friends that she knows that don’t have anything going on for Fourth of July, and they better be at her house for a barbecue. They all look at her, clearly confused. No one- not even Barb- has been invited over to the house since Melissa and Gary broke up. Nevertheless, they don’t argue and all promise to be there.

They all come in one clump, and the faces that they make when you open the door draped around Melissa are priceless.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” she says proudly. “The reason that I have been declining all of the people you’ve suggested I date, and the reason I have not ‘put myself back out there’. I don’t gotta when I have her.”

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[tangledupinyellow]

Tonight | Joel Miller X Wedding Planner F!Reader

authors note: finally got this one out! with a new job and new house, life has been pretty chaotic recently but I finally got back into my usual writing schedule!! lots of wips at the moment so prepare for those!

part three of love is in the air part one here: love is in the air part two here: tensions rise

summary: Joel thought that he would be having the time of his life the night before his wedding. But he’s conflicted, for all he can think about is you.

warnings/tags: 18+, no use of y/n, no outbreak AU, infidelity, age gap (24 and 46), nicknames (baby girl, doll, baby) fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, angst

word count: 4.6k

“We really can’t be doing this anymore, it isn’t right…”

The words repeated in Joel’s head over and over and over again. He gripped his drink of whiskey, swirling it around before taking a swig. Looking around, he saw all his buddies laughing and dancing, having the time of their lives and partying. Partying just like how he should be doing. But instead, he stood in the corner with a drink in hand, lost in his thoughts.

It was the night before his wedding, the last night he would be considered a single man. Much of his freedom will be washed away from him when he finally ties the knot. He was supposed to be getting wasted with his friends and having a blast, having one last ‘hoo-rah.’

But he felt like shit, to put it lightly.

He watched as all of his friends were having a good time without him at a party that was supposed to be for him letting loose.

He would say that he would much rather be home than here, but that would also be a lie. Jenna would most likely be home. He wanted to be with you.

Taking a deep breath, Joel finished his glass of whiskey in one go before setting it down. With a groan, he rubbed his temples and another sigh left his lips.

“Pre-wedding nerves?” Tommy joined him in his corner with a laugh. He could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Joel chuckled and nodded, “S’pose you could say that.”

Yes, he was nervous and anxious, but they didn’t feel like the pre-wedding jitters he’d heard so much about from his married friends.

His nerves felt more like a sense of guilt, of regret. Possibly regret of sleeping with someone that wasn’t his fiancee, but he knew damn well that wasn’t it either.

His thoughts were messy and unorganized, all because of you.

All he could think about was you.

“Don’t be all mopey for the rest of the night. Come dance with us.” Tommy’s words were slurred, but Joel was barely paying attention anyway. With another laugh, his brother walked back to the rest of the group, leaving Joel on his own once again.

Instead of going with him and having a good time, he ordered another whiskey, drinking in silence.

┉┉┉

It’s late, nearing one in the morning. Sitting at your kitchen table, you dunked your tea bag into the warm water several times. Your eyes were tired and droopy as you watched the lemon tea bag go up and down, feeling as though you could fall asleep right then and there.

However, sleep seemed to be a big struggle for you. You were laying in bed for hours, restless. Every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Joel and Jenna standing at the altar, sharing a loving kiss as they became one. Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Your heart would initially sink, and your stomach would be sick. And immediately after, you would feel guilty and stupid for feeling that way in the first place.

They were your clients—Joel was only a client. You were the one who helped them plan their wedding. You should be ecstatic to see them finally marry. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t.

What’s worse, you’ll have to attend their wedding tomorrow to make that a reality. You wished you could bail somehow and devise an excuse, but this was a part of your job. You needed to make sure that everything ran smoothly at their ceremony.

The thought made you uneasy. However, you tried your absolute best to push your feelings aside. You couldn’t let yourself be selfish. Not when you need to remain professional. 

Sipping your tea, you hoped it would help you relax and ease your mind and racing thoughts. Maybe then you could sleep without having to envision Joel and Jenna kissing at the altar over and over again.

You almost felt like you were losing your mind. You had never felt so reluctant about attending a wedding that you assisted in planning before. But it was different with the Millers. So, so different.

You thought your time with Joel was just going to be a one-time thing, one mistake. But that one mistake turned into two. And now, you couldn’t take your mind off of him. 

You had to keep reminding yourself that you needed to keep things professional between the two of you. Even though you had failed this before, you needed to put it in stone now before it was too late. He was getting married tomorrow, and you needed to accept that fact. He is in a happy and loving relationship; that’s something you need to swallow.

Taking a sip of your tea, you closed your eyes and felt the relaxation hit you instantly with the warm lemon flavor. It never fails to calm your nerves. While they weren’t gone completely, they did decrease significantly.

With a few more sips, you were sure that you’d be able to fall asleep in no time. After all, you needed to be wide awake and perky tomorrow morning for the wedding. But no matter how many times you tasted the calming lemon tea, Joel never left your mind. 

You kept thinking about the way he felt, the way he touched you, the way he held you as he would thrust into you over and over again. Just thinking about it made your cheeks hot and your pussy throb. But the way he made you feel was what stuck in your head the most. 

Clearing your throat, you sighed before sipping your tea, already close to finishing it off. You were just hoping that this would work and you would be able to drift to sleep without another thought of Joel.

After a few minutes, you started feeling more relaxed and drowsy. You felt as if you were going to lie down in bed and attempt to fall asleep, and you may have been successful.

That was until you heard a knock on the door.

Your eyes quickly widened as your heart rate picked up. A knock on your door was the very last thing you were expecting. It scared the shit out of you, to say the least.

Your heart was still pounding as you slowly turned to face the door. You were cautious, for it was the middle of the night, and you had no clue who was at your door or why. You felt your heart in your throat as you slowly stood up, still overly wary.

Surely, if it was a murderer, they would have already attempted to break into your house, right?

A second knock followed shortly after the first as you approached the door.

With a deep breath, you slowly creaked the door open, cracking it open an inch to see who could be at your house at this hour before opening it up completely.

It was Joel.

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened the door, knowing that it was safe and that it was somebody you actually knew. But that didn’t calm all of your thoughts. You were still beyond confused. Why would Joel be at your doorstep? On the night before his wedding, of all nights? Shouldn’t he be cuddled up in bed with his bride-to-be all fast asleep?

While you were lost in your thoughts, Joel was staring at you, lost in his own. His eyes bore into your own, a swirl of thoughts in his mind. 

“Joel?” Was all you could say before he took a step forward, not even saying a word before putting his hands on either side of your face and pulling you into him.

His soft lips crashed into yours, squeezing his eyes shut as he did so. He kept you close, as if he were to let go, he would lose you completely, and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

You didn’t hesitate for a second before kissing him back passionately. You felt as though you wished upon a star, and now your dream came true. You had been thinking all night about Joel, and now here he was, standing on your front porch kissing you as if you two were the last people on Earth.

Your arms draped around his neck, bringing him in even closer to you if possible. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting all of you that he possibly could. It pained him to know that this could potentially be your last kiss. Although, there shouldn’t have even been one in the first place. He was supposed to be a married man soon, for fuck’s sake. But you were like a drug to him. He kept on coming back for more. Neither of you could get enough of each other. Each promise that you made to yourselves never lasted. There was always a part of you that knew you two would find each other again one way or another.

“Joel.” You tried to mumble against his lips, but your words were muffled as he kept kissing you, never wanting to stop.

He shook his head to shush you and brought your lips back to his into a passionate kiss.

He moved his hands down to your ass, giving them a cheeky squeeze before grabbing your waist, picking you up, and placing you on his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss never breaking in the process.

His strong arms kept a grip on you while he moved you over to the counter to place you down, his hands squeezing and caressing your hips. Pulling his lips away slightly, he moved them down to your jaw, placing kisses down to your neck.

“Joel..” You took the opportunity to speak but interrupted yourself with a moan when Joel found the weak spot on your neck. He already knew you and your body much too well, “Your wedding’s tomorrow. We really shouldn’t-”

You trailed off from your sentence when Joel pulled away to look you straight in the eyes, “You want me to stop?” He whispered, his hand still firm on your hip.

You didn’t want him to stop. And he knew that you didn’t from the way you looked at him, the way all your emotions swirled in your eyes. 

“We shouldn’t.” You repeated, but Joel quickly stopped you before you could say anything else.

“I asked if you wanted me to stop.” He shook his head slowly, never looking away from your eyes. He could feel you tense slightly under his touch, debating with your mind on how to answer.

“I…” You whispered, licking your lips as you looked him up and down. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the bulge in his pants, and your mouth went dry. You wanted this man in front of you so damn bad. You knew it was beyond messed up and wrong, but you knew that this was your last chance with him, that after this, he would be married for good, “No. I don’t want you to..” You whispered breathily and pulled him in for another kiss, your fingers getting tangled up in his hair.

He smirked against your lips as he kissed you back instantly, proud of your words. They were exactly what he wanted to hear. He wasn’t ready to let go of you yet and wanted to show you that.

He moved his hands from your waist up to your chest, cupping your breasts in both of his hands. Your moan vibrated against his lips as he slipped his hands underneath your tank top, his strong hands now caressing your skin. The coldness of his hands sent shivers down your spine and goosebumps up your arms.

His thumbs moved over your nipples as he massaged your breasts with both of his hands, knowing just how to touch you to please you.

It was a familiar feeling, the feeling of guilt and pleasure all in one. Your mind has already told you, screamed at you, countless times before that you shouldn’t be doing this, that you shouldn’t allow yourself to be in this position. But no matter how much you reminded yourself that this wasn’t right, you couldn’t stop. Especially now, when this may be your last chance to be with him again.

The thought that you may lose him after tonight made you pull him in closer to you, wanting to be as physically close as you possibly could. You wanted to touch and feel all of him, memorizing every nook and cranny in his body to keep stored in your memory when he would inevitably disappear from your life.

You didn’t want to lose him, but you couldn’t express those feelings, especially not now. You didn’t want to ruin this moment between you. You just wanted to enjoy it while you still could.

“God, I need you so bad, baby girl.” Joel mumbled quietly in your ear, gently nibbling your earlobe. This caused you to lean your head back slightly and sent a warm vibration over your lower body.

You need him just as much. But you didn’t need to say any words to get that message across. He could tell the second he moved his hand under your panties, slipping a finger rather easily into your wet folds.

Joel groaned as he looked at you, his eyes darkened with lust and want. Knowing and feeling how much you wanted him turned him on even more. His bulge was prominent in his pants; it was almost unbearable. He could feel it throb with eagerness, being trapped by his boxers.

“Tonight, you’re all mine.” He growled, attacking your lips with his.

That one word stuck with the both of you. Tonight. He was yours, and you were his, but only for tonight. After that, he would belong to Jenna. And tonight, you would make sure that you would make it one hell of a night, for it may as well be your final night.

Agreeing with his words, you kissed him back passionately, your teeth nearly clashing with his. You put your hands on his cheek, his scruff prickling against your skin. You nearly held onto him as you kissed him, letting out all the emotions you’ve kept down since now.

“Bedroom.” Joel demanded, out of breath, panting against your lips for a quick moment before pulling away. He held onto your hips and helped you down off the counter. You could only smile in excitement as you made your way to the bedroom, Joel right on your heels.

Joel’s shirt was already half off when he stepped into the bedroom. He really wasn’t wasting any time.

You lay on your bed, resting your head on the pillows, your eyes watching Joel’s every move. Within the blink of an eye, Joel was on top of you as he threw his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner of the room.

Your hands instantly moved up to his chest, running your hands up and down as he started to take off your pants effortlessly. You were sure that by the end of the night, you would have touched every single inch of his body.

“Look at ya, look how damn gorgeous you are.” Joel shook his head, his tongue going over his lower lip. He gazed upon your body, putting his entire focus on you as if it was the first time he had ever seen your body underneath him.

You blushed and failed to hold in your smile as you stared up at him, “Oh, just fuck me already, Mr. Miller.”

Joel chuckled lowly and shook his head as he moved his hands down to his hips, his fingers grazing your skin gently, “Little impatient are we?” He whispered, lowering down to press kisses on your jaw down to your chest.

“Very.” You admitted with an involuntary whine, needing him more than ever. You didn’t know how much longer you would be able to wait without him inside of you.

Joel smirked at your confession and shook his head teasingly. Oh, how he loved to tease you and see you squirm under his touch, just desperate to feel all of him.

“I love seeing you needin’ me so bad..” Joel cooed and caressed your hips firmly with his thumbs, “I won’t make ya wait any longer.” He didn’t admit it, but he was just as desperate as you. He didn’t want to spend another second without him inside of you. He wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk, wanted to make this a night that you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about for the rest of the week. 

Without any more warning, he slipped inside you with ease.

“Fuck, I love this pussy.” Joel groaned and held onto your hips tighter as he pushed himself inside of you. It wasn’t his first time fucking you, but each time felt like the first. He could never get sick of you. Whereas with Jenna, he couldn’t even remember the last time they spent a night together.

You fit him like a glove as if your pussy was made just for him, and he had found the missing puzzle piece. Joel took a deep breath as he tried to calm himself down just a little. He didn’t want to get himself too excited, for he wanted this moment to last. And seeing you like this and just being inside of you was more than enough to get him going. He didn’t want it to end. He didn’t want this to be the last.

You and him both knew that you didn’t want him to go through with this marriage. Jenna never did anything wrong necessarily, but there was just something about you that she was lacking. He wanted to be with you and to stay with you. And even though you couldn’t admit it to him, you wanted the same exact thing. You had an ounce of hope that after tonight, he would tell you that the wedding was off and he was going to stay with you. But that was just wishful thinking.

“Nice and wet just for me.” Joel breathed, his hot breath hitting against the sensitive skin of your neck. Your skin tingled, yearning for the feeling of his lips on your neck.

His thrusts were slow and steady at first, getting you nice and eased in. But it wasn’t long until he pulled out before going back in one thrust, getting as deep as he possibly could, “God, I just wanna be deep inside of ya, doll.” he mumbled before doing it once more, the feeling of being empty to completely full causing you to moan.

You tried not to think about the possibility of it being your last time with him, and it was easy to do so at the moment, considering that your mind felt foggy from him thrusting into you over and over again.

You leaned your head back and grabbed onto his hair for something to hold onto as he thrusted mercilessly into you. The tugging of his hair only made him more motivated as he quickened up the pace. He could feel himself getting close, but he tried his best to distract himself from finishing for he didn’t want this to end any time soon.

He held himself up with one hand over your head, the other grasping onto your breast, squeezing and teasing the nipple while he kept the pace of his thrusts. With each thrust, you let out a moan or a breath of pleasure. 

This was something that you had enjoyed about sleeping with Joel so much. The fact that he knew exactly what you liked and that he knew what he was doing was incredible for you. He was the first to make you finish, and he’s always ensured you did.

You loved it. And for your own selfish reasons, you weren’t ready to let it go. To let him go.

Joel moved his hand from your breast to caress and squeeze your hip, the gentle squeezing making you even wetter. You loved the effect he had on you.

“Fuck, Joel! You’re incredible, fuck” You moaned out, feeling like your words were choked up in your throat. Moans followed your words, making you feel almost pathetic for how he easily made you feel like this.

Your head leaned back against the pillow, and you bit your bottom lip. So hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to taste blood sometime soon.

Joel groaned and smirked at your praise. It was just that little bit of motivation that kept him going.

There was a deep sinking feeling in his heart. Not because he knew he would be married to someone else soon, but because he was sleeping with somebody else. But knowing that this might be the last time he would be so intimate with you. It pained him to think about it.

However, he wouldn’t allow himself to get distracted and doleful, for his current goal was to make both of you feel good. And damn, he was going to do a good job of it.

“God, so fucking sexy,” Joel groaned and leaned down slightly to kiss your neck, a place that you were badly aching for him to touch, “Can’t get enough of you.” He bit your neck gently, pulling the skin slightly before placing a kiss over and over again on that same spot. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m close.” You moaned and squeezed your eyes shut, putting all of your focus on getting to your climax. 

Joel took these words and continued to do precisely what he was doing, gripping and squeezing your waist while keeping the same pace with his thrusts, knowing just what you wanted, just what you needed. He knew you like the back of his hand.

Your hands moved down from his hair onto his shoulders as you felt the finish line getting closer and closer.

“Come for me, baby.”

With your nails dug into his back, you kept your eyes shut and moaned and screamed out his name, your climax taking you by storm. You felt elated as he continued his thrusts, fucking you through your orgasm.

Your breaths became quicker as you came down from your climax, your heart racing at a million miles an hour. You felt as though you were on cloud nine. The idea that this was possibly the last time wasn’t even in your mind anymore. All you could think about was how incredible this man was able to make you feel, each time without fail.

With you finishing, Joel didn’t feel the need to hold himself back anymore, knowing that he had gotten you where he wanted you to be. He squeezed your waist gently and leaned his head back, the veins in his neck nearly popping as he came inside of you. Wet and hot rope after rope shooting inside of you, he felt as though it was one of the longest and most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced.

While he was with Jenna, you were the one who made him feel good about himself. You made him feel like the man he was. His legs nearly shook as he slowly pulled himself out of you, both of you instantly missing the feeling of being connected so intimately.

Joel kissed the top of your head before slowly laying down next to you, wrapping his arm around you. You had already come down from your climax while Joel’s heart was still racing, and his breathing was unsteady.

“God, you never fail to amaze me.” You break the silence and laugh.

Joel chuckled along with you and rubbed your arm as he pulled you in closer to his naked body, “Same goes for you, doll.”

While the two of you were feeling incredible, you knew that there was an elephant in the room that neither of you wanted to begin to discuss. But you know you had to.

“So, you’re getting married tomorrow.” The words felt forced from your lips as you glanced over at him.

You could feel him tense up once you brought it up.

“Mhm.” He hummed out and looked down, refusing to look at you.

You almost felt bad for asking, but you knew that it had to be done, “Must be pretty exciting, huh?”

You were hoping that he would say what you were hoping, that the wedding wouldn’t be happening in the first place. But again, that was nothing but hopeful thinking.

Joel opened his mouth to say something but sighed, his body still tense, “You would think so,” he spoke quietly, holding onto your shoulder a bit tighter to reassure himself. He couldn’t hide the truth from you. He didn’t want to, “But I’m not feeling the least bit excited. It’s dread, is what I’ve been feelin’. And I can’t lie, baby, you’re all I can think about.”

This is what you wanted to hear. But it didn’t feel right. Your heart was still sunken in your chest.

“But the wedding?” You whispered while staring up at him, wanting him to continue.

“The weddin’s tomorrow. I can’t just not marry her, she loves me.” The corner of Joel’s lips turned into a frown, “I can’t do that to her.”

The words hurt you more than you ever thought they would, especially now that you were cuddled up against him, close in his arms. You weren’t ready to let him go. 

With your head resting on his chest, he felt at home. You felt safe in Joel’s arms. You couldn’t deny that feelings for him were beginning to develop, which made this all that much harder. And saying goodbye wasn’t necessarily ever easy.

You swallowed the big lump in your throat and nodded slowly. Now was quite possibly the only time you could ever tell him the truth. If you stayed silent, you knew that you would regret it in the near or far future.

“I understand,” Your voice was soft, your throat was tight, “I really do like you, Joel… I’ve loved spending these nights with you. I ended up looking forward, wondering if I may see you again,” 

His eyes bore into you as you spoke. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed along with a frown on his lips. He had a gut feeling that he knew where this was heading, and he dreaded the words coming from your lips.

“And I want you to be happy. I know that if you cancel this wedding, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. I don’t want to get in the way of that, not more than I already have. You and Jenna deserve to be happy.” You fought back the tears, refusing to choke up in front of him.

Joel stayed silent and frowned as he looked at you, squeezing his hand gently. He didn’t say a single word as he stood up from your bed. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You squeezed your eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling down.

It was a silent goodbye. He was hesitant, but he didn’t want to make this goodbye harder than it already was.

He left the room without turning back. 

Once you opened your eyes, the tears fell down.

You tossed and turned, trying to fall asleep that night. They are getting married tomorrow. And there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #18+ #female reader #writing #fiction #joel miller smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut #joel miller angst #tlou angst #the last of us angst

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Always & Forever

poly!mikaelsons x reader (kol, elijah, & rebekah)

summary: a slip of tongue confession leads to a world of trouble between the mikaelsons and the salvatores. but little do any of them know, it's exactly what was needed to promise a perfect future.

tags: smut, love confessions, mild exhibitionism, lingerie, blood drinking, begging, foursome (no incest), praise kink, choking, vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, blowjobs, overstimulation, dirty talk, cuddling

word count: 6k

“I think my girlfriend is falling in love with my brother,” Kol says, with a look to each of the Salvatores, “but unlike you two, we’re actually quite capable of sharing women.”

Both scoff, and Stefan rolls his eyes. Damon takes a long sip of bourbon before smirking. “Prove it.”

Three days later, the brothers show up unannounced on the Mikaelsons’ porch, ready to find the proof themselves. Their conversation with Kol didn’t really end; the man just smiled and gave a wink, but didn’t offer any proof to his statement. He left the grill soon after that, too, convincing the Salvatores that he was just a cocky liar. Determined to prove their enemy wrong, they planned a surprise dinner in the other’s own house, specifically choosing a day they know you’ll be there. 

It’s a Sunday, and Klaus has been in New Orleans all weekend doing who-knows-what, leaving you alone with the other three siblings. You were originally a loyal friend of Elena’s, until she fell for Damon and you fell for Kol. Ever since then, your friendship has been in shambles and the two of you barely speak. The only reason the brothers were even talking to Kol about you is because you all ran into each other at the grill. You were playing pool with Elijah, while the younger watched from afar. Stefan and Damon approached to pester him about it, only to receive the answer they did.

Now, they were going to prove Kol wrong. They had been through this before with both Katherine and Elena. One woman cannot love both brothers; she will always pick one, and the two will become divided over it. It was only a matter of time for the jealousy to seep through, and neither brother could wait to see it happen. 

When they ring the doorbell, it’s Elijah who answers. “What may I help you with, brothers?”

Damon smirks, “we’ve decided to invite ourselves over for dinner. How does that sound?”

“And whatever has given you this idea?”

“Just a talk we had with your little brother the other day. Nothing bad, we promise.”

“Convincing,” he mutters, not at all convinced. “Well, I guess then, come in. I’ll find Kol.”

Kol isn’t hard to find. When Elijah walks into the living room, trailed by the Salvatores, he finds you and your boyfriend curled up together on the couch. Elijah clears his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. 

“Oh, look who it is - the less famous brothers,” Kol greets with an attitude. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You don’t say anything, but tense up at the sight of the two. Neither have been pleased with you lately, and their sudden appearance can’t be anything good. 

“They have come by for dinner,” Elijah supplies. “Which, luckily enough, should be ready now.”

Just as he predicts, Rebekah comes into the room, hands in oven mitts. “Did I hear the Salvatores are coming over for dinner?” She looks over to them, “oh, and they’re already here. What fun. Y/N, darling, would you please help me carry the dishes to the table?”

You nod quickly, happy to get away from the men. 

“You make your sister cook for you?” Damon grunts as you and Bekah disappear. 

“No, no, we all take turns. Kol was yesterday. I have tomorrow.”

“But sometimes none of us do and we just sip on blood all night.”

“You feed Y/N blood, too?”

“Well she’s not here every night, unfortunately. But if she is here on a sipping-night, we’ll still make her something,” Kol says sternly, not liking Damon’s tone. 

Stefan decides that now is a good time to interrupt. “So what’s Rebekah making?”

“We’ll have to see. Shall we?”

Five minutes later, the six of you are sitting around the table enjoying a steak meal, just red enough to satisfy both vampires and human. The seat you’ve chosen has you between Kol and Rebekah and across from Damon and Stefan, while Elijah, per usual in Klaus’ absence, sits at the head. You can tell he likes sitting there; the head of the table always gives the sitter a feeling of power. Dominance. Like how he dominates the conversation despite Damon’s numerous attempts to try. 

“I was just curious about your brother’s whereabouts. What exactly is he doing in New Orleans?”

“It isn’t your place to know about what he’s doing, and frankly, I don’t know every little thing he does either. I’m not his babysitter.”

“But you’ve got to know something.”

“Who am I to tell? It’s not my business, nor yours.”

“So if-”

At this point, the three of you zone out entirely. You have been pestering Kol the whole dinner, but now you’re really starting to bug him, rubbing your foot up and down his leg. The action makes him squirm in his seat, which only encourages you further, and now Rebekah’s giggling at the both of you. In return, Kol lands a hand on your thigh, squeezing it ever so often. You then poke him in the side where you know he’s ticklish.

 Little do you know, Rebekah wants to join in, but doesn’t want to cross a line with her brother. Little does she know, you want her to join just as badly. 

Meanwhile, the discussion between the others is growing intense. Damon is getting more aggressive; Elijah, more defensive; and Stefan, more anxious. 

“This conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he tries, “maybe we should-”

“Klaus goes in and out of Mystic Falls way too often. I like to know where my enemies are, so if he would just stay in one place, that’d be great. He-”

Finally, Stefan cuts his brother off completely. “What I would like to know is if Kol’s words have any truth in them.”

The room silences immediately. 

“That’s why we’re here, right, brother?”

Damon stiffens at being interrupted, but then relaxes, a smirk on his face. “Yes, actually.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Elijah cocks his head. “Kol?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Oh sure you do? What was it? At the bar?”

“We go to the bar fairly often, Damon, you’ll have to be more specific.”

“You don’t remember? Y/N and Elijah were playing pool. You were watching, telling us what was on your heart…”

Kol raises his eyebrows before scoffing. “That.”

“Yes, that.”

“First of all, I wasn’t spilling my heart out to you two dumbasses. There was no heartfelt moment there.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were having a moment.” Damon frowns with a sad puppy dog look. Fake, of course. 

“You thought wrong then. I was only sharing an observation.”

“So? Is there any truth in what you said?”

Kol shifts uncomfortably, not liking being on the spot like this. 

“Aw, Damon, he’s shy. Let’s give him space.”

“No, hold up,” Kol stops them, “not shy about anything, I just don’t like to put my girl in situations like this.”

At the mention of you, you look up in question. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t talk about ‘your girl’ when she’s not there to hear it.”

By now, Rebekah’s had enough, “whatever are you two daft dimbos on about? Kol would never do anything to hurt her. He loves her. Speaking of which, we all do, so you better not say anything bad.”

“Oh I bet you all do,” Damon smirks again. 

“Say what you want and be done with it,” Elijah tenses, “or get out.”

“You want to do the honors?” Damon turns to his brother.

“No, you’re good.”

“Alright.” He stands up as if he were making a speech. “Kol told us that he thinks his girlfriend over here, Miss Y/N, sweet little Y/N, is falling in love with his brother. Then he tried to tell us that you guys are good at ‘sharing women’.” The man laughs, “as someone who’s shared a woman with my brother, that never ends well. One, or all of you, are gonna be real sad when she either picks one and divides you from your family, or leaves you all and never looks back. So I say, pick your poison now, ‘cause it’s gonna happen someday.”

Damon sits back down looking very proud of himself. Kol, on the other hand, looks mortified. You, Bex, and Elijah have no idea what to do with that information. It’s dead quiet for too long. 

“Darling,” Kol finally says, “can I talk to you?”

“Of course.”

You leave the table with him, but no one picks up any conversation as you go. 

As soon as he gets to the kitchen, he runs the sink water so the vampires in the room over would have a harder time overhearing. He then puts his hands over his face and avoids eye contact with you. 

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t meant for that to come out the way it did, nor to say it to those two, and I certainly didn’t expect for them to reiterate it straight back at you. I can’t believe I could be so stupid. I’m so sorry. I understand if you hate me for it. I-”

“Kol,” you call him for the fourth time during his rant. This time, though, you take his hands and make him look at you. “You’re not stupid.” He finally looks at you, but doesn’t reply. “And I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I subjected you to their vile jokes. Made you look like a groupie or something to my family.”

You have to stop for a second and giggle. Of course, he’s immediately confused. “Why are you laughing?”

“Did you just use the term, ‘groupie’? That’s so seventies, Kol.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“No, no, I’m just- I’m sorry. It was just funny to me.”

“What word was I supposed to use?”

You laugh again, “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I shouldn’t have used any word, because you’re not that, but I made you look like that to those bloody idiots.”

“Kol, it’s okay. I’m not upset with you. With them, yes, for doing that in front of everyone. But only for your sake, not my own. And besides, I can live with being an original groupie.”

He nods, hearing you’re not upset, but then narrows his eyes. “Wait…”

You swallow hard. “It’s not entirely wrong. I don’t like admitting it, but I’d be lying if I said there was nothing there.” You pause, giving him time to react. He only nods for you to continue. “I know Elijah’s liked me to some extent ever since we started dating. At first, I brushed it off, but the more I’m around you all, the more I find myself starting to like it.”

Not sure how to answer the latter, he starts with the first. “To some extent? Darling, he’s in love with you.”

You half smile, “I know.” 

“But?”

“I don’t know how to say this, Kol. It’s weird.”

In one fell swoop, he picks you up and sits you on the bare counter. He stands to be in between your legs, then cups your face with his hands. “It’s alright, Y/N. Tell me.”

“I love you. There’s no doubt about it. I would die for you.”

His heart races. Sure, he’s heard those words a thousand times, but each time, his heart acts the same way. “I love you, too, darling. Nothing you could say would make me love you less.”

“Good, because I don’t want to lose you. I want to love you for eternity. But… you’re right.” You take a deep breath. “I’m also falling for your brother.” 

Kol doesn’t seem fazed by this. If anything, he seems relieved. 

“Are you okay?”

“I was afraid you were going to say you wanted him instead.”

Your eyes go wide, “no! Baby, no way. But… if it’s something you’re okay with, I wouldn’t mind being an original groupie.”

He laughs at your choice of words. “That is certainly something I am okay with. You can love whomever you like. I’m just glad you still love me, too.”

“I will always love you, Kol.”

He kisses you deeply, bringing a hand to your back to steady you. “And I love you. And like I said, I am willing to share my girl if it makes her happy. Plus, I trust my brother to keep you and your heart safe.”

You smile, then bite your lip.

“What is it?”

“One more question.”

“Hm?”

“Do you trust your sister, too?”

“You’re in love with Bex, too?”

You can only shrug. A blush rises to your cheeks. 

He shakes his head playfully. “Of course I trust my sister. Let’s say this: I trust my family with my girl and her heart.”

“Sounds good,” you peck his lips, then his nose. 

“Soooo… do you want to go back out and prove to Damon and Stefan that my family can both share and protect women better than they can?”

“Certainly,” you pop off the counter with Kol’s hands on your waist. “And I can’t wait to see the look on Bex’s and ‘Lijah’s faces when I kiss them unexpectedly.”

You little troublemaker,” he grins as he turns off the faucet, “you fit into this family perfectly.”

◇◇◇◇

A chat about the weather is the only conversation happening when you re-enter the dining room. A big sigh of relief comes from everyone when they see you. 

“I hope you’re willing to pay the water bill next month, Kol, because that was a long time to have it running.”

“Relax, brother. Y/N and I were just having a little chat.”

“Oh really?” Damon smirks, “did she slap you for what you said about her? Because that would be well deserved.”

“On the contrary, Damon,” you say, returning to your chair. Kol sits in his, though you only stand behind yours. “It actually gave us time to talk about some things that probably wouldn’t have been brought up otherwise.” As you talk, you make your way to Elijah’s side, putting your hands on his shoulders. 

“Ah, and what would that be, Miss Y/N?”

You grin, “why talk about it when I can show you?” Before Damon can answer, you trail your fingers along the man’s face to his chin, feeling the stubble along his jaw. The group sees your eyes roll back in your head, then they watch you move to stand in front of him. “Hi,” you say, blushing mad.

He mouths, ‘what are you doing?’

You’re too giddy to answer; it’d probably come out in a stutter. So, you only smile instead. Then, bending slightly, you lean forward, grabbing and pulling on his tie in the process, and kiss him passionately. His body goes limp immediately, satiated by your kiss after wanting it for so long. The fact that you have him by his tie, dominating him just a bit, doesn’t help his case. Your other hand rises back to his jaw, holding him in place. After a second, the reality of the matter kicks in and he kisses back, bringing his own hands up to your face gently. 

Seated directly behind you are Kol and Bex, half of their attention on the scene, and half on the lingerie peeking out from under your skirt. Kol knows damn well you did that on purpose, and he feels himself getting hard at the thought. As for Rebekah, she’s conflicted. She’s not sure if she’s allowed to feel the warmth in her core that you’re making her feel, or if she’s allowed to steal a glance at the black garter adorning your thighs. She tries to poke her brother to ask, but every time she moves her finger, one of the Salvatores glance over to see the younger two’s reaction. 

After about a minute, you let go of Elijah and lick your lips. You then stand up and smirk at the brothers. “What would that be, you ask? Well, it gave me a chance to tell my loving boyfriend,” you’ve made your way back to Kol now. Once you’re behind him, you turn his head toward you with a finger on his chin, then kiss him with the same intensity. “That, not only do I love him, but also that I’m falling in love with his brother, as he suspected.” Then you grin again, “but what he didn’t know, but also just learned, is that I’m also falling in love with his sister, too.” After confessing, you bend over to kiss Rebekah as you did Elijah, with your lace set partially on display for the man. His eyes catch it instantly and become locked on you. Meanwhile, Kol, in touching distance, grabs onto your thigh. His hand almost disappears under your skirt completely. The sudden feeling makes you moan into Rebekah’s mouth, causing her to grab the back of your neck and kiss you harder. 

Eventually, a cough from Stefan pulls you out of the make-out session. You stop and take your seat back, though Kol’s hand doesn’t leave your body. 

“Wow,” he comments with nothing else to say. 

Damon, of course, has a reply. “Since you’re sharing, you can give us a kiss, too,” he mocks. 

“Nu uh,” you wiggle a finger, “I’m reserved for Mikaelsons only. Plus, I don’t think your girlfriend would like that too much.”

He rolls his eyes. “Only playing.”

“So,” Stefan starts, rather awkwardly. “Dinner was great, Rebekah. Was I wrong to assume you’d be serving dessert tonight, too?”

“Not entirely,” she stands, “I did make one for us. Though it seems you’ll be the only ones eating it, for I already had mine just now.”

She’s on her way to the kitchen when you chuckle, “there’s no way that filled you up, Bex. That was just an appetizer. Trust me, dessert’s way better.” You give her a wink. 

The girl’s knees nearly give out. “Is it now?”

You’re about to answer when a squeak leaves your lips instead. Kol’s moved his hand from your thigh to having a finger on your clit. He puts the lightest bit of pressure on it, then says, “she’s right, sister. Dessert’s much better.”

Rebekah goes completely red and hurries to the kitchen to hide her face. Elijah, on the other hand, swallows hard. He’s not sure how he feels about doing something like this with the Salvatore brothers watching. He knows that Kol is, and always has been, rather wild, but this? And if he’s going to be allowed to touch and pleasure you for the first time, he doesn’t want them there. Nor should they be so honored to see your body unclothed; that should be a sight only for those chosen by you. 

Elijah’s tempted to pull Kol aside and bring up these concerns, but that would require leaving you alone with the Salvatores. That is something he’d much rather not do. Luckily, Rebekah comes back just in time. 

“For you two, who don’t get to share the beautiful Y/N,” she smirks. “Please, feel free to take it home with you so we can get on with private business here.”

Elijah relaxes at her words, but then stiffens again at Damon’s. 

“Oh no, we were promised that you could maintain a four way relationship and not fight. We are going to see this through.”

“That was never included, Damon,” Kol snaps, “all you were promised was that we could, not that you could see it. All you’re allowed to see of my girl is what she allows you to see.”

“Your girl?”

“Don’t push it. You’ve already pushed it by welcoming yourselves here anyway. And yes, she is my girl. Just because she shares her love doesn’t mean she’s not still my girl.”

“How do you feel about that?” The man nods to you. “A family of vampires sharing you?”

You giggle as Kol pulls you into his lap. “I don’t know if this has escaped you, Damon, but I gave in before either of these two did. I love them all as much as they do me.”

“Until you fall more in love with one and break the rest of their hearts.”

“I am not Katherine. I’m fully capable of loving them without hurting them. Just you see,” you challenge, a glint in your eyes. 

The brothers look to Elijah, knowing he’s been through the ringer with Katherine as well. To their dismay, he’s smiling. “The girl is right. She isn’t Katherine. She has a similar fire, yet is much more kind. Maybe if you two had been so lucky to stumble upon her first, you’d learn that not all women are like Katherine.” Before Damon can argue, he continues, “fortunately for us, and rather unfortunately for you, she’s ours.”

Stefan’s about to comment, but then he sees you smirking. The glint in your eyes, still apparent, and sharp like a dagger, as if daring him to try to convince you otherwise. At that moment, he decides it’s not even worth it to try. He turns towards his brother. “Well. Guess we have to let them figure it out on their own.”

“Guess so.”

Not long after that, the Salvatores are finally out the door, Rebekah’s pies in hand. Damon makes it very clear that if he isn’t allowed to see the action, that he is certainly taking the dessert he is allowed to have. And, he isn’t going to make any effort in returning Rebekah’s pans, either. 

“Whatever, don’t care about the pans, go away,” you say, pushing them out the door. “Bye now!” You lock it the minute they’re out. Then, you turn around to face the three vampires looking at you. “Hi.”

“Hello, darling. Quite a pickle you’ve found yourself in,” Kol smiles at you. 

Rebekah takes a step towards you. “Are you sure you can handle all three of us, love? It is a lot to handle.” She seems more like she’s challenging you into submission rather than actually asking you the question. You’ve proven you want all of them, now it’s just a matter of seeing if you can catch up. 

Your answer is on the tip of your tongue - an equally sassy reply that will tell her everything she needs to know. But then Elijah approaches you with a comment before you can say it.

“Maybe we should talk about this first. Y/N-”

“Oh, enough talking,” you walk over to him, “haven’t we been talking all night?”

His lips curl into a smile, “guess we have. Is this really what you want?”

“Yes, ‘Lijah.”

“Then you shall have it.”

You give three seconds. Three seconds to search his eyes for any hesitation. Three seconds for anyone to speak up with a counter. Nothing. Not a second after is wasted as you rise to your toes to kiss him again. He kisses back deeply, tapping your waist for you to jump. He holds you in place with strong arms, fighting everything to not push you up against the wall. He knows if he does, his siblings will protest.

The protest comes anyway. 

“Elijah, you’re stealing the girl,” Rebekah whines. 

With a sigh, he speeds you over to the nearest room and sets you down on the bed. As he catches his breath from the adrenaline, Rebekah wastes no time rushing to you and peppering you in kisses. Kol’s not far behind, laying you down the minute Bex comes up for air. Your head rests in his lap while he plays with your hair. Elijah quickly comes back into play, feeling the fabric that is the only thing separating them from seeing you wholly. You make eye contact and nod to him, and instantly, your clothes are torn from your body.

“Gorgeous,” you hear him mutter, running his hands from your stomach down your legs.

“Say,” Kol snickers, “what about this lingerie, darling? Was that on purpose?”

You bite your lip, “knew I’d get you by the end of the night. Didn’t think this would happen.” You nestle your head into him, “but I’m not complaining.”

He grins, “was a lovely surprise to a boring dinner.”

“I’ll second that,” Rebekah bounces her eyebrows at you, making you giggle. 

“Kol,” Elijah calls to his brother. 

You and the boy look up. 

“Switch places. She’s been with you, knows you best. For her first time with all three of us, let’s give her something familiar.”

The boy nods, and you’re secretly thankful for the man’s suggestion. As much as you’re loving this, it’s all very new, and something familiar is greatly appreciated.  

“Thank you,” you mutter to Elijah as he takes Kol’s spot in supporting your head. 

“Of course, baby. I love you.”

You smile, “I know. I love you, too.”

“You know? How, may I ask?”

“I’ve known since the minute I met you.”

His eyes soften from shock as everything sinks in. You knew he loved you, yet you were dating his brother. But now, they both have you, and Bex, too. Bex, who, at the moment, is giving you a hickey on the neck. 

Elijah realizes this and immediately chides, “don’t bite her, Rebekah.”

“Relax, it’s only a hickey. People do it all the time.”

You giggle, “it’s true, ‘Lijah. But I don’t mind if you bite. Kol’s fed from me.”

“He has?” The girl stops her ministrations to read your face.

“Mhm. I trust him, and eventually, he started to trust himself.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” She jokes.

“I’m right here, Bekah.”

“You’ve fed from her?” She asks again, still shocked. 

“Show her, Kol,” you smile up at him. During the last minute of your conversation with the two, he’s been teasing your entrance with his cock, making sure you’re wet enough to fit comfortably. 

He bites his lip, debating it, but can’t say no to your face. “Alright, darling. Count of three.” He lines himself up, then covers your body with his own, positioning his teeth right at your neck. “3… 2… 1.” At one, he sinks his teeth in and pushes his cock into your heat at the same time. Your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure as he begins to rock inside you, finding a pace. Kol only drinks for a few seconds before detaching, because he knows Bex will want to try too, if you’ll let her. 

“Not long enough, baby,” you say immediately. 

“Give Bekah a try,” he nods to his sister, sitting back up. 

Rebekah’s still in shock at her brother’s self control, but snaps out of it when you give her the ‘okay’. 

“‘Lijah, you too.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“I need it,” you beg. 

“She’ll beg you all night,” Kol warns. “Better to give in than deny what you know you both want.”

The argument is convincing. Elijah gives in, taking your wrist. At the same time, he and Bex bite down - her at the other side of your neck - and begin to drink. Kol slows his pace as they do, taking a minute to look into your eyes. I love you, he mouths. You mouth it back. 

Seconds later, they come off, too. Elijah wastes no time bringing his own blood to your lips, healing your wounds completely. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him. 

“Mhm, thank you, girl,” Rebekah interrupts, “you’re bloody amazing.”

Elijah returns your smile, nodding to you. 

As soon as you meet his eyes, Kol picks up his pace again until he finds the one you usually like. Though Bex beats him to rubbing your clit, so he uses both hands to hold onto your waist instead. Elijah takes to kissing you hungrily, his hands digging into your scalp. You’re so overstimulated with pleasure, yet it feels so good. 

After a bit of this, you start to pant, running out of breath.

“What do you like, baby?” Elijah asks, not wanting to tire you out with kisses. 

“Play with her boobs,” Kol suggests, “makes her crazy.”

“Does it now?”

“She’s cum just by me sucking on them at times.”

“Kol!” You whine.

“Don’t get shy now, darling! Little late for that, don’t you think?”

You shut your mouth tight as the three smirk at you. Elijah then repositions his body to sit more to your side, giving him better access to your chest. He makes sure to put a pillow under your head where he had been sitting, then wastes no time playing with your tits, holding, cupping, and squeezing them. The feeling is so good it makes you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Darling,” Kol mutters, swiping your lip and putting his finger in his mouth, “don’t hold back your pretty little sounds from them. Let them hear what I get to hear from you.” As soon as he says that, he pounds into you hard without warning. You cry out in a strangled moan before you can stop yourself. “Just like that, yes,” he praises. “Good girl.”

Bex immediately picks up on how you react to Kol’s praise and tries it for herself. “Hey, girlie, can you do that for me, pretty please?” She puts more pressure on your clit, touching you exactly how you like. 

“Awh,” you moan, “like that, keep doing that. Feels so good, Bex. I- I’m close.”

Meanwhile, Elijah’s transitioned from using hands to using his mouth to stimulate your breasts. He tugs on a nipple with his teeth while pulling the other between his fingertips. 

“Fuck, ‘Lijah. Shit. I- I-” whatever you were going to say is cut off by another moan. This spurs the man on, Bex too, and they continue at their paces. 

You then turn your attention to Kol. “Right- right there. Perfect. Close. I’m close. Kol?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Cum with me, okay? Please, please, please.” You know begging will do it instantly. Another thing that will make you both cum fast- “and here,” you point to your neck. “Please.”

“Which one?”

“Pick.”

“You pick this time.”

“Kol, I can’t.”

“Can I put them up to the challenge?”

You nod ferociously, desperate for anything. 

“Choke or bite, she wants.”

The siblings go still. Neither feel good about choking you, and they’ve already fed. 

“Kol, please,” you beg again, “I’m so close.”

“Okay, darling.” He thrusts deeper to crawl back across your body, then holds you in place by the neck as you get closer to your high. In the midst, Bex continues her pleasure on you, while Elijah keeps at his. Then, mere seconds later, you cum hard. A string of curse words that ends as a moan falls out of your mouth. Black spots cloud your vision, due to Kol’s hands on your neck, or the overstimulation, or both, you’re not sure, but you love it. You whine all the way through your orgasm, legs shaking and heart beating rapidly. Shortly after you, Kol cums too, and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto your body. After the two of you ride out your highs, everyone begins to ease up in their pleasuring. 

“Not done,” you pant, out of breath still. You crawl up a little ways on the bed to lean against the headboard and its numerous pillows.

“What do you mean, ‘not done’? Girl, I’d think you’d be tired,” Bex says, incredulous. 

You answer her by slipping your hand into her pants, feeling for her heat, and inserting a finger. You then unzip her jeans for better access, making her melt instantly. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she whines. When you curl your fingers, she moans louder.

Once you have her where you want her, you move your other hand to the man beside you, rubbing his hard-on through his suit pants. “‘Lijah, come here.”

“You don’t have to pleasure me, baby, I’m alright.”

“Again,” Kol interrupts, “she’ll beg you all night if you don’t let her.”

You smirk up at Elijah, proving Kol’s words true. The man tries to fight it, but desire takes over him. He’s slow to pull himself out, still a bit unsure. You gesture him closer and closer until you’re able to pleasure both him and Bex at the same time. 

“I’d rather you straddle my head, ‘Lijah, so I can get you wet, and more comfortable,” you say in between breaths. The man goes red in the face. Never have you ever seen Elijah embarrassed. Neither, apparently, have his siblings. 

Bex grins, “brother! You’ve gone shy to Y/N’s dirty talk! I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it.”

You giggle, the girl egging you on now, “I promise it would be much better. Come on.”

Again, he hesitates, but ultimately gives in. You smile as he moves in front of you, not exactly straddling you, but comes at least close enough that you can take him in your mouth. Immediately, you circle your tongue over his tip, sucking slightly in certain places. He lets out a breathy moan which makes you crave him more. Soon, you find a vein on his underside that is especially sensitive, so you tease him by dragging your tongue along it, before finally taking him in full once he’s wet enough. 

When you find your pace with Elijah, you refocus your attention back to Rebekah, continuing the curling of your fingers, but also stimulating her clit. You’d love to put your tongue on her, too, but in its absence, you move your fingers inside her instead. Wetness drips from her, pooling onto the bed. Hers, thankfully. She rocks her hips against your hand, holding onto your hip for support. Little whines leave her lips, one after another.

Meanwhile, Kol’s attention is on your clit, driving you to overstimulation yet again. He flicks his tongue against it while keeping two fingers buried inside you. It’s only a matter of time before you all explode from the intense pleasure. If you weren’t so distracted, you’d probably place a bet on it. 

Not two minutes later do the second round of orgasms come, and they do in quite a domino effect. Kol blows cool air on your clit and immediately, it sends you into pleasure. You start shaking again, well beyond satiated. Bex is then triggered by your orgasm, having her own not a second after, and having it be just as intense. Her mess is made bigger, cum obvious on the sheets, and she can’t help but giggle. Bex giggling causes the same reaction out of you, to which Elijah’s final stimulation is the vibration from your mouth, and he has his own orgasm. He tries to pull out, but a shared look of eye contact comforts him, knowing you’re okay with it. Once you’ve swallowed it, you loosen your suction from his cock and allow him to pull out completely. He can’t help but to kiss you when you open your mouth to prove it’s all gone. 

As soon as you all come down from your highs, one-by-one you collapse on the bed, exhausted. Bex and Elijah are on your sides, while Kol’s between your legs, his head on your chest. 

“That was,” Elijah pauses, catching his breath.

“Perfect,” Rebekah finishes for him. 

“Quite the girl she is,” Kol says, kissing your tits. 

“Need to take care of her back,” Elijah tries to get up. 

You hold him down, though, “no, no, stay with me. We do that later. Cuddle for now.”

“Y/N-”

“No, we cuddle for now. I need that more.”

“Okay, baby. We’ve got you.” He settles back down into your side, letting out a long, peaceful sigh.

A second later, a camera snaps. 

“Who’s that?” Everyone peers an eye open, except for the one who’s guilty.

“Whoops, sorry.” Kol smirks, “going to send Damon proof that not only are we capable of sharing, but also, that we have the best bloody girlfriend in the world.” 

“You’re such a little shit,” you ruffle his hair because he’s too out of reach to kiss. “But I love you. I love all of you.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

“Me too,” Bex yawns.

“We will love you, Y/N, always and forever.”

And you all did love each other, always and forever. 

#poly!mikaelsons #poly!mikaelsons x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikealson x reader #tvd fanfiction #i'm not crazy about the summary #but i can promise you it's smutty

[siriusleee]

Like Blood on Iron | Part 4

Historical Executioner AU

Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

Warnings: smut, female x male sex, blood, death, decapitation

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: Three very important updates for you guys, please read:

My tag list has gotten way longer than I'd ever expected it to get. Honestly, I thought I'd have like 3 readers and that's it. It is taking me almost an hour to get everyone tagged, update the tag list, and go back to old posts and comment to people who Tumblr won't let me tag. Because of this I will no longer be doing a tag list. In an effort to make this easier on myself and get these posts out faster, please subscribe to my Ko-fi page OR enable notifications for when I post. Subscribing to Ko-fi costs nothing, and I do not expect you to send me any money. It's just the one page I have that I can send out quick updates.

However, I am currently super poor. For anyone that doesn't know, I am an English Literature teacher. This year I moved from middle school to high school, and buying all the supplies that I need for this new grade level is killing me. I am working at a part-time job to afford it, but if you can and want to, I'd love it if you donated. I just bought $40 worth of glue sticks; it's very expensive. You can donate through my Ko-fi. Thank you to @gazs-blue-hat and @devcica for donating to my wisdom teeth surgery - I just made the first payment; I love you guys.

I did not edit this. I literally finished and am hitting post; school starts tomorrow and the first 3 weeks are so exhausting, I will be going to bed at 4 p.m. each day. So I wanted to get this out to you. Adamantine Chains will have a new chapter posted tomorrow. If you see any egregious errors, please point them out and I will fix them. previous chapters + future preview: - one - two - three - preview

The sound of Lily's soft breath in your ear tries to lull you to sleep, tries to force your jaw to relax but you can't. For the first time since your outburst with Jonathan, Lily had crept into the bedroom the two of you used to share. She had curled into your side; her breathing wasn't even before the door cracked open again and Maggie snuck in to sandwich Lily between yourself and her.

Lily's hair tickles your shoulder as you keep your eye on the window - the warmth is fading faster each night, but when you tried to close it before you went to bed you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You needed the feeling of the cool air in the room. 

"Are you going to watch?"

Maggie's voice is so quiet it seems to get carried away by the wind. The bed shifts as she turns to look at you over the crown of Lily's head peeking above the covers. You turn, fingers brushing Lily's hair out of your way. In the darkness, Maggie's eyes gleam at you. 

"I don't know. He told me not to, but I think Father will make us."

Maggie breathes in sharply - once - just enough for you to know whatever she's about to say angers her.

"I think Father is making everyone go. Why did he tell you not to go?"

You want to tell her his name - as much as you know - is Ghost. To call him by his name, but you keep that information tucked close to your chest. 

"I don't know; he didn't say."

The conversation hangs in the air between the two of you, floating with the dust that blows in from the windowsill. Maggie's eyes burn across to you before she rolls back away from you, her hair dark against the pillow, curling down her neck. Mirroring her you roll away, eyes focused on the silver starlight you can see out the window.

You awake to soft hands shaking you awake; through your sleep you see Mother pressing one finger to her lip. Her eyes say it all to you - it's time. You slip out of bed leaving the warmth of Lily behind as the cool morning washes over the bare skin that shows from your nightgown. Mother hands you a dress, a thick black one. The same one you knew Maggie wore two years ago when Father's mother died. 

You pad out the room behind her, trying not to wake Lily up. You let the bedroom door shut softly behind you before you speak.

"I have to go?"

"Lily is staying behind with the Morris girls. Your father expects the rest of us to be there." Mother's voice is tight; she's already dressed in a black dress, simple and loose fitting. She refuses to make eye contact with you as she speaks. "I will be downstairs. You have to be dressed soon."

You dress quickly, ducking back into the room to grab your boots and underdress. Back in the hallway, Maggie crosses you, dark purple shadowing under her eyes - you expect the same exhaustion to be painted across your face. 

The temperature feels twenty degrees colder downstairs; you wrap your arms around yourself. Father is absent from his place at the table. A single slice of toast sits in front of Maggie, the neatest nibble taken from one corner. You drop down across from her and neither of you speak. 

A knock at the door jolts your heart - you shove away from the table before Maggie can. On the other side stands Mrs. Morris and her two daughters, still in their sleeping clothes and barely awake. Without her having to ask, you take one of the girls from her; Mrs. Morris follows you quietly to your bedroom where you tuck both girls in beside Lily. They fall asleep almost immediately.

On your way out of the room, you shut the window, pulling the latch down so that they can't see outside.

You wait at the dining table with Maggie; Mother and Mrs. Morris speak quietly in the kitchen. When the morning bell tolls, the two of them emerge out of the kitchen. You and Maggie follow behind them, pulling your cloaks off the hook by the front door when you pass by. You wish instead to have Ghost's cloak, the heavy and warm scent of him enveloping you instead of the cold wool you wrap around your shoulders. 

The four of you fall in line with the rest of the village, letting the wave of bodies push you toward the town center. Each step you take is heavier, harder to take than the one before. Ghost's voice, warning you not to come, not to watch, rings in your ear with a high-pitched drone that grows louder with each moment. The square is almost full whenever you arrive; you let yourself get pushed away from your Mother and Maggie until you're situated near the far side of the square, right where Ghost will first walk in.

The crowd tries to situate themselves as the council shuffles onto the platform. Your father stands at the back, face pale and empty. Even from this distance, you can see the tremor in his hands as he walks. Behind him, shackled in heavy iron chains, Uncle Henry walks up the platform escorted by two men you've never seen before. His face is gaunt and slack, his lip torn and blood dripping onto his chin.

The abject horror of it hits you all at once and you realize why Ghost had warned you not to come. All at once you think about the executions you had sat in your bedroom trying to strain to see, all the times you watched Ghost come up the street eager to get a glimpse of him and all the families that had been in the same place as yours is now. You think of all the times Father left his boots outside after execution and wonder if blood had splashed on them. You feel sick, horrified. You want to search out the families who had been ripped apart by the executions and beg for their forgiveness. 

A hush falls over the crowd like a velvet blanket pulled up too high. You strain past the ringing in your ears to try to hear the heavy sound of boots that you've gotten used to hearing in the midnight light. The sound is different now, leadened and sinister. Drawing your hood over your head you keep your eyes fixed on the point you know Ghost will emerge from. 

He seems to dwarf everyone in the crowd when he arrives, sword glinting in the early morning sunlight. You're torn between trying to press closer to him and pulling away as the thought of what he's about to do courses through you. He walks slowly, regret heavy in each of his steps as he mounts the platform. 

The head councilman speaks, but you can't hear him above the roar in your ears as you watch Ghost situate himself to the side of Uncle Henry. He turns his face towards the crowd and his eyes search through every person before they land on you. He shakes his head just a fraction of an inch, and you know he's telling you to look away - to walk away before he swings his sword.

But you're rooted to the spot - you can't move as the councilman stops speaking and Ghost raises his sword, his eyes still locked on yours.

There's a moment's pause when his sword reaches its apex - a moment where you hope he'll lower it down and walk away. But the sword falls heavy; you manage to clench your eyes shut at the right second, but you still hear the heavy sound of Uncle Henry's head hitting the wood, and your mother's scream.

When darkness falls, no one stops you from walking out the front door. Father had not come home - you knew he was burying Uncle Henry somewhere, and Mother had to be carried to bed by you and Maggie. Upstairs you'd heard Lily sobbing; Maggie was the only one to witness you slip out the front door. 

The red that dripped off of Ghost's sword as he walked back home is long gone in the dust and daytime; even so, you imagine that you can see it trailing in front of you as you walk, tripping over stones in the dirt. There's betrayal here, you know, running away to the home of the man who executed your uncle, but you don't know anywhere else to go. 

Eyes peer down at you from their windows as you pass through the village, but for once you don't care if anyone runs home to tell on you. You're not sure Mother or Father would even be able to comprehend what you were doing anyway. 

Like he knew you were coming, Ghost sits on the step, hands folded neatly in front of him. He doesn't look up at you, doesn't rise until you're within touching distance. An empty glass sits at his side; without speaking, he pushes himself to a standing position, glass snagged up in his large hand. You don't wait for him to beckon you as he walks inside.

You grimace at the warmth of the whiskey as it goes down your throat. You had never liked the taste of alcohol, but when Ghost sat it down in front of you you had reached for it without hesitation. The glass is heavy in your hand.

"I told you not to come," Ghost says, lowering himself down into the seat across from you. His voice is stern, but without any judgment for you attending the execution.

"I didn't have an option." You speak so quietly, you're not sure if he hears you over the wind and the crackle of the fire. 

"You always have a choice."

"No, you always have a choice. You are a man; you don't understand what it's like to have someone dictate your entire life to you. I had no choice because my father said I had to go. And soon it won't be my father telling me what to do, but Jonathan. And I'll be shackled to a life of listening and obeying."

You shove the glass you'd drained towards Ghost, shaking your head at him when Ghost moves to fill it again.

"I'm sorry your father forced you to watch." 

"My father," you pull your tangled hair over your shoulder, running your fingers through it to distract you from Ghost's eye burning at you over his mask, "thought that if we didn't come, it would show some level of guilt. I should be thankful that he let Lily stay home, but-"

"But what?"

"But I saw what the execution did to my mother. My mother is not a weak woman, but she didn't want to go. She can't do blood - it makes her sick for days. My father told me once it had to do with something she saw as a child, but wouldn't tell me more. She never attends the executions. But he forced her, knowing she's going to be regulated to the bed for the rest of the week. And I-"

You can't get the thought out - that you are a horrible person for how excited you used to be for the executions. Ghost waits patiently, leaning back in his chair, the wood creaking underneath him. You study the patterns of scarring on his fingers as they splay across the table. They're clean, no blood and dirt crusted beneath them.

"I am a horrible person," you finally sob out, fingers pressing into your eyes to try to press the tears that threaten to come out, "I have spent months waiting for an execution to come around; all I wanted to do was see you - I didn't think about everyone that was losing their life. Or their families, or you."

"Or me?" Ghost's voice is rough; you pull your fingers away from your eyes to look into his; they're dark and unreadable. 

"I've never thought about what you must experience - doing the bidding of the council."

"I think you'll find I know more about being forced into doing things I don't want to do than you think."

The wind increases outside, the sound of leaves and sticks hitting the sides of Ghost's cabin. You wonder if it's Uncle Henry, angry with the town and determined to tear it apart. 

"How did you end up here?" The question tumbles out of your mouth, and you feel ashamed as soon as you say it. Ghost's eyes flash, his nails dig into the wood of the table. You expect him to ignore you, but he pushes his hands into the collar of his tunic, and pulls out a necklace. With a flick of his wrist, he pulls it from around his neck and flings it to you. It lands a tangled mess in front of you.

"Read it." His voice is a solid command you follow, fingers tracing the edge of the cross as you pick it up; the metal chain snakes across the grain.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley - King's Guard 141st Division - you were in the King's army?"

"I was a part of the King's Guard; we were tasked with protecting the king when he traveled or during battle. There were four of us."

"What happened to the others?"

"I'm all that remains of the 141. We were-" his voice is whiskey thick, and when he swallows, you hear the heaviness of it, "ambushed. I was not able to save them. And so my punishment for not dying with my brothers was to live out my days as an executioner."

The metal is warm against your fingers, as you trace the engraved letters of his name. Simon Riley. Thoughts swirl in your head, and he seems to read them as you reach across the table to pass the necklace back.

"In this house you can call me Simon. Outside only Ghost."

The weight of the day - of Simon's background pushes against you. The small patterings of rain begin to hit the windows as you stand, taking your glass off of the table. You leave Simon as you refill the glass, bringing an extra for him. You drink yours in one go, refilling it again before you pass Simon his. 

The corners of his eyes are tight as you step beside him, the glass held out to him. His hand wraps around your wrist, warm and electric. A stone settles in the pit of your stomach as a fire spreads across your skin from where he grabs you. 

"You drink much more and you won't be able to make it up the path home."

"Just put me under the table then."

The corners of his eyes relax, and then turn up just slightly as he takes the glass from you with the hand not holding your wrist. He keeps you close to his side as he uses the hand with the glass to push his mask up just over his nose; the edge of a ragged scar peaking out on his cheek. He downs the drink in one go and grabs the glass you'd intended for yourself before finally letting you go.

You'd never enjoyed the way being drunk had made you feel, but as the world outside Simon's cabin swirls around you, you feel nothing but the warmth of the whiskey in your veins. The rain falls slow and heavy, warm despite the cool wind that had taken over the village. You reach one hand out to let the droplets pool into your palm, the rest of you shielded by the small awning above you.

The door opens behind you, the dim firelight spilling onto the rain soaked ground in front of you. The shape of Simon wraps its shadow around you along with the musky smell of him. You watch his shadow as he leans against the doorframe.

"We could run away together."

You had thought about it for a few weeks now. It had started out as a ridiculous fantasy - the two of you riding out on horse in the middle of the night and disappearing into the forest together. It had started out innocently enough, just the two of you escaping with each other, but now -

"Where would we even go?"

Simon's voice is soft, rolling through the rain drops as it passes by you. The timbre of it makes your mouth dry, or maybe it's the whiskey.

"Anywhere. Across the sea. Somewhere just far enough that know one would know who we are."

Simon's shadow ripples; you watch his shadow as he reaches to his chest, to where you know the cross hangs. 

"You could go," he says, "but I will always be marked."

You don't know what he means, can't remember if he's told you something or not. But you let the reckless abandon that started building at you so much earlier in the day take over you. Simon's figure backed by the firelight makes your fingers itch to reach out and tangle them in the front of his tunic.

"But would you go?" You ask, voice rising and falling. "If you could, would you go with me?"

The silence stretches thin. Simon chews on the inside of his lip; the doorway groans beneath his fingers as they dig into the wood. 

"You're drunk," he finally says, the words falling from him. "And you're not happy. I should take you home." His warm hand wraps around your elbow; you jerk it back and in your drunken state stumble. You try to catch yourself, but your feet slip. Simon tries to catch you, his hands wrapping around your elbow, but your feet tangle together and the two of you fall. Simon twists, getting his body halfway underneath yours. 

The two of you land hard in the mud, your forehead clipping his chin. The two of you lay awkwardly, one of your hands on Simon's chest and the other buried in the mud. You try to push yourself up, hand slipping, to peer down at Simon lying beneath you. Mud is splattered across the exposed skin around his eyes. He reaches the hand that had wrapped around your back - the only part of him that has escaped the mud- to your forehead, fingers gently wiping away the warmth that had started to form there.

"You're bleeding."

"Is it deathly?

"I think you'll live."

He pulls his hand away, covered in your blood, and the rain washes it away slowly - the red tinge traveling down his wrist and disappearing into the hem of his tunic. You feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as you shift so that you're straddling one of his legs. 

"Can I ask for a favor Simon?" You swallow heavily, trying to swallow down the nervousness and embarrassment that's threatening to explode out of you.

"Anything."

A red blush starts to creep up your chest as you speak, each word measured and bitten off carefully - worried that if you speak too fast, Simon will disappear.

"I won't lie and say I haven't kissed my fair share of boys. But I've never - I've always been too worried to - to do anything more."

You feel Simon's thigh tense between your legs, and the feeling tightens the knot inside of you.

"If I'm going to be forced to give myself to someone I don't want to, I want to keep something for myself. I-"

Simon's hands tighten painfully around your waist; you hadn't even realized he'd grabbed you or that your hands had snuck down so that they framed his face, your wet hair creating a curtain between the two of you and the rest of the world. 

"There are some things you can never take back - that you may regret." 

"Why would I regret you?"

Your question cracks the tension between the two of you for weeks. You collide together, the kiss frenetic, your teeth clicking against each other as Simon tangles his hands in your hair and pulling you closer to him. 

He pushes the two of you up, grabbing you beneath your thighs as he rolls and stands, pulling you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist as Simon stumbles back into the cabin. Your fingers tease the edge of his mask; Simon shakes his head and you pull them away, still worried that at any second he's going to tell you to go home. 

Your shoulder hits the doorway of his bedroom, but you barely feel it as Simon kicks the door shut behind you, darkness enveloping the two of you. This time when you reach for his mask, Simon doesn't stop you from sliding it off of him. His hair is warm and wet; your fingers catch on the tangles there. 

Simon presses your back against the doorway as he lowers yourself to your feet. You pull away from him, unable to catch your breath as your hands slide beneath his tunic. His skin is soft and scarred; you trace your fingers across a jagged one that bisects his chest. Simon's breath hitches when you trace it to his nipple, your fingers ghosting across the sensitive skin there. 

Simon lets you pull his tunic off of him, his fingers tracing the lacing on the front of your dress. He hesitates there, waiting for you to say no, to push him away.

"You've seen me naked before," you whisper, trying to loosen the tension, your fingers curling around the waistband of his pants. "No reason to be nervous now."

"It's different," Simon says, pressing a kiss to the base of your neck, tongue trailing upwards to the shell of your ear, "to think about what it would be like to touch you, and actually doing it."

His admission that he's thought about you like that - the same way you had shamefully thought of him on nights alone in your bed - sends a spear of want through you. You pull him closer, straining to reach up and kiss him again, but Simon keeps himself away.

"You can go home," he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh, "I wouldn't be angry with you. I would find no fault with you at all."

And you know he's telling the truth - if you said so at any point, he'd let you leave and wouldn't hold it against you. But you can't even entertain the idea - the instinct to wrap yourself around him, to claw at him and at yourself until the two of you are open for each other, is too much.

You reach up and place your hands over his, guiding them so that they pull at the laces of your dress, the bodice falling open. You shrug out of it, letting it pool at your feet as you kick it away. Simon's hands linger chastely at your side, fingers barely skimming your skin.

"I'm not breakable Simon."

"Of course you are," Simon sighs as you trace your fingers softly up his neck and to his cheek. His breath hitches as your fingers tease the edge of the scar you'd caught a glimpse of earlier when the two of you were drinking. You trace it, trying to map the features of his face. It ends at his hairline, a second scar bisecting it.

"It's my cross to bear." Simon's voice rumbles deep; you can feel it in your chest. "It's my mark as an executioner - the righteous hand of God."

I will always be marked, he had said earlier and you realize what he'd meant. 

Simon wraps his hands around the back of your knees; he pulls you up until you're forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep from falling. He kisses you again, clumsy - you can feel him shaking beneath the soft skin of your hands. He pulls your hair so that your neck is exposed to him; Simon trails kisses down, nipping at your collarbone.

He's hot, his skin and mouth burning you up. You try to grind yourself against him, to get some sort of friction, but Simon's hands keep you just far enough away from him to drive you crazy. His knees hit the side of the bed and buckle; he drops you gently to the bed. The dark scent of him, and the whiskey that still pulls at you makes your head swim. 

Simon's hands are firm on your knees as he pushes them apart and pinning you down.

"If I start to hurt you-"

"Simon, please." 

He presses your thighs down harder to the bed, stopping your squirming. 

"It can hurt. If I start to hurt you, I need you to say something; I need you to promise that you will."

His fingers have inched upwards and you try to buck your hips and make the connection; Simon digs his nails into the sensitive skin of your thighs and the feeling makes you gasp - more electric than anything you've experienced before. 

"I," you swallow hard, Simon's nails scratching down you lightly pulling all the air from your chest, "I promise."

You're ashamed of the moan that you let out when his mouth finds your core, your back arching off of the bed. Simon's tongue is velvet on you, lapping at your wetness with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from his size. 

You'd listened to other girls in the village talk about this - about their quick trysts with the boys in the village and how it felt to be pawed at. But this - this was like nothing you'd ever imagined it could be, and nothing like the girls described it as. 

Simon's hands keep your knees apart as his tongue swirls your sensitive spot; your back arching off of the bed as you grind down onto him. His fingers trace patterns in the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. When his fingers reach your wetness, you can't help but clench your knees around him, nervousness and embarrassment filling you. You had never let any of the boys you'd kissed touch you - the thought of their fingers inside of you disgusting, but the want for Simon to stretch you out is enough to make you pull away - not sure how to react. 

Simon's tongue slows as he pushes your knees back down with one arm, his mouth pulling off of you with a pop. In the absence of him you buck your hips, but he doesn't move. He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, and when he speaks, the brush of his lips on your skin makes you shiver.

"We don't-," he swallows, heavy in the darkness, "we can stop if you want."

"No." It's a pathetic whine. You can feel his smile against your thigh, teeth nipping at your skin.

"You're going to want me to stretch you out a little."

His words pull a gasp out of you; you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. Simon's hand traces your wetness gently, before he pushes in one thick finger. It burns as he pumps in and out of you; you're so tight he can barely move in and out of you. You can't tell how long it takes before the burn starts to dissipate; like he can read your body, Simon slips another finger in.

Simon works you until you're comfortable; the sounds you make are filthy. You're so wet you feel yourself dripping onto Simon's wrist. He latches onto your apex, and the feeling sends you over the edge. You come with a choked sob; you try to reach down and stop his hand, but he pushes you away and continues until you can't take it anymore. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, as you beg incoherently - but you're not sure what you're begging for. 

Even in the darkness, Simon's a shadow when he crawls up your body, lips skimming your hip bone, your stomach, your collarbone. A muscle twitches in your thigh; you can't catch your breath in the heat that radiates off of Simon as he dips his head down to kiss you. You dig your nails into his side, and buck your hips up, but he pushes them back down gently with one hand. 

Simon pulls away just enough to speak, lips brushing against your as he does.

"If you want me to stop-"

You feel crazed - the way you claw into him, trying to pull him into yourself, the way your lips crash against his, teeth clicking together in a way that would be painful any other time. Simon snakes his hand between the two of you; you jump when it brushes past your clit. You can feel yourself dripping already - wetter than you'd thought you could get. 

Simon lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses, resting his hand on your chest. His fingers stretch across the expanse of skin, calluses raising gooseflesh.

"You're shaking."

And you are; it's overwhelming - the smell of him enveloping you, the expanse of his body, hard muscle under a layer of soft downy, and being broken down by him. The thick feeling of being stretched out. 

"I'm alright."

It comes out whispered and broken, but you are. You've never felt like this; never thought that you would. You wrap one hand around this wrist at your chest and beg.

"Simon please. I can't - I," you can't get the words out, can't explain that you can't take the feeling of being empty; of being without him. 

Simon presses into you, just barely, but it's enough to make your back arch and your nails to scratch down his arm. He hisses at the feeling, teeth nipping at your earlobe. He moves slowly; the sharp feeling of him is enough to cause you to hyperventilate. On instinct, you press your hands to his chest; you can feel his desire to move faster in the way his muscles bunches beneath your touch. 

"Do I need to stop?"

"No - it's just - you're too much."

You can feel his smile, brief and small, as he presses his face into your shoulder before he bites down. Hands finding his hair, you grip tight enough that you're sure it must hurt him, but he doesn't say anything.

You can feel every inch of him stretching you out; Simon's voice is soft in your ear as he whispers to you to relax - that you're doing so well. One of his hands trace down your side, trying to soften the gooseflesh. The other pushes your hair away from your forehead, fingers pausing at your temple. 

The world pauses when he bottoms out; you can feel him in your throat - he's burning you up from the inside, his skin fire against your own. Simon's mouth his hot against your skin as he trails kissed across your neck. You know there will be marks there tomorrow - something you'll have to hide - but you don't ask him to stop; you beg him to keep going. 

"I need you to relax, my love." His soft voice in your ear makes your fingers curl against the blanket bunched beneath you. "You're too tight."

You try to relax beneath him, but you can't - you can't.

"I can't."

"Just breathe love."

You focus on the movement of his chest against yours, and try to synch your breathing with his. Simon lays his hand against your throat, your pulse slowing beneath the pads of his fingers. His tongue snakes out to trace the shell of your ear, and he rocks himself against you.

You're ashamed of the sounds that escape you, you press your hand to your mouth to try to muffle yourself, but Simon pries your hand away and places it on his shoulder.

"Don't try to be quiet."

His words cut into you, and you grind yourself against him trying to match the rhythm he's setting. 

Sweat and slick mix between your thighs; Simon pushes your knees towards your chest and the shift in angle tugs at something inside of you; you can feel yourself unraveling faster than you did earlier. Simon's nails dig into your skin as he moves faster. Your hands press on his chest, his stomach, trying to find some space to breathe, but his grip on your waist doesn't let you move.

Simon finds a brutal pace. You dip your fingers between the two of you until you can feel him pumping in and out of you; Simon moans at the feeling, nails piercing your skin hard enough to make you gasp. 

He grabs the hand you have between the two of you and guides your fingers to your apex, forcing you to swirl your fingers around yourself. 

You try to commit the feeling of him to memory: the texture of his skin, the sound of him panting in your ear, the feeling of his thumb tracing the contours of your nipple. Your second orgasm starts to break around you, and in the haze, you realize that you will never have this kind of moment with someone else.

The thought puts a knot in your throat; you pull Simon down to kiss him; he must sense your desperation as he slows down, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you closer. 

His body shudders once and he pulls out; you feel the heat of him spill out across your stomach. The wild thought of reaching down, and taking some onto your finger to taste possesses you, but your fingers are still clutching at Simon. You can't figure out how to loosen your grip.

Simon pants between your thighs, one hand still wrapped around your neck as he shifts so that he's laying down beside you. You shuffle, kicking the blanket down beneath you until you're able to pull it up around you. 

You want to say something, anything to dissipate the air that stills around the two of you. But as Simon pulls you into his chest, anything you could think of is washed away. 

Tag List:

tag list: @silverianni, @milfs4lifee, @koi-feish, @shirabeastly, @pookie90, @ghostlythot, @hearts4sky, @crystallizedtime, @the-worlds-tempest, @myconglomerateromance, @elena-ph, @chaoticgoblindev, @pipocfamily, @canadianmilkbag, @caspertheassholeghost, @2512121morningstar, @glitterypirateduck, @elli0t3r, @clairdelunelove, @captainprice4life, @generaldestinychild, @crowsjourney, @c0pernicus, @wistfullyhypomanic, @arbesa-mind, @ray-rook, @daisyfrubies, @september-22-1996

If you are on my tag list - please read my author's note!

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #my fics #ghost cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty fanfic #call of duty mwii

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-three

(gif created by me, the fallen nightmare. feel free to use, simply give credit)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I forgot how much I hate slow burns. So we'll see how long it lasts. Tags are open if anyone is interested!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13

A yawn fell from my lips as I snuggled deeper into the bed, a blanket wrapped around me like a cacoon to keep in the warmth. It was my first day off in four days and with the constant traveling; I was relishing being able to sleep in an actual bed. The bunks on the tour bus weren't terrible but with Bryan's snoring I was thankful for the quiet night of sleep ahead. The sun was setting, the orange glow painting over the walls of the room, and I only left the bed to go to the bathroom or grab my room service. The entire day was dreading tomorrow because that's when I had to send Lana her first paycheck and I was about three hundred dollars short.

My mom had been doing great, even remembering who I was when we talked on the phone. Something about hearing my voice but not seeing my face must have helped. It warmed my heart that we had conversations about things like we used too before she got sick.

I could explain to Lana the situation. I'm sure she would understand.

Somehow I doubted that which is why I was heavily researching my idea, wondering what the risks were and if the payout was worth it. Everyone online who had a page said they could pay for things they wouldn't have with a regular job. I would have my own rules and wouldn't worry about sharing it with a partner. I could post what I wanted whenever I wanted. The only risky thing would be someone recognizing me and with who I worked for, I wasn't completely sold on the idea yet.

"I don't have to show my face," I told myself as I sat up, deciding pretty hastily.

Desperation made people do drastic things and starting an Only Fans was my last resort; I had no other options.

The phone on my camera wouldn't do and I sucked in my bottom lip, wondering if what I was about to do was a good idea. I needed a better camera and set up while also having a credit card with a high enough limit, though it was for emergencies.

Isn't this one? Think of it as an investment.

Agreeing with the voice in my mind, I scrambled out of bed and quickly stepped into a pair of black sweats and hoodie to match. I cringed when I noticed myself in the mirror and made quick work to make myself look somewhat presentable.

The walk to the nearest store was only a few minutes, and I enjoyed the sounds of the hustle bustle of the city as people walked passed me, their own ideas for the night fueling them. I knew little about cameras and thought about asking Bryan some advice but knowing I might have to tell him why I needed one didn't sit well with me

As I was leaving the store, two bags in hand and $500 more in debt, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and when I read the message, I couldn't help but let out a groan.

Davis, yet again, was inviting me out to dinner tonight with him and the crew. I ignored his first two because I really had plans to lie in bed all day. Now, the only thing I wanted to do was get my profile set up and start posting so I could make money as soon as I could. Plus, Noah was avoiding me ever since the night of the first show when Jolly caught us together. Nothing happened but to Noah, it was as if they caught us fucking.

The thought caused a flush to creep to my cheeks as another text came in.

Davis: If money is an issue, it's on the crew tonight. The last few days have been crazy and we want a night out to relax.

It was true; every show this tour is sold out which made for a crazy night. Everyone in the band and crew were exhausted so a night out was something we all needed.

Me: I'm already out, where should I meet you guys?

Davis: there's this Mexican restaurant right around the block from the hotel. Meet in an hour?

Perfect amount of time to set up and record my first video. I never was a modest person, even if I never had a boyfriend. A few hookups here and there gave me some experience, but I also knew what my body liked, hence me bringing a few differnt kinds of toys with me. After the first tour, I realized how lonely I got out on the road.

I refused to prove Noah right I was only here to fuck someone; which was not true. But that didn't mean I couldn't think of a certain tattooed vocalist while I filmed, right?

An hour and fifteen minutes and red flushed cheeks later, I was practically running out of the hotel to make it in time to the restaurant. As usual, I was running late, but that was because it took me some time to figure out how to edit and post the video to my page. What I filmed wasn't exactly raunchy but just enough to keep people wanting to come back.

I was in a rush to get to the restaurant that I nearly missed the body that I collided in. Strong arms wrap around me to keep me steady as I looked up into those dark eyes that haunted me every second of every day. My heart fell deep into the pits of my stomach as embarrassment filled my veins, knowing that face was the reason for my orgasm less than an hour ago.

Noah gave me a look as slowly removed his arms from me, Jolly and Folio standing on either side of him.

"Where's the fire, angel?" He asked while drinking in the sight of me with a wide grin.

In my pussy.

He was wearing a grey sweater; the hood pulled up over his head and white hat. I cursed my vagina as it throbbed at the sight of him and my pet name.

"Uh, I was meeting Davis and others for dinner," I pointed behind me, stuttering over my words a bit.

Jolly smiled. "We're headed there too. Care if we walk with you?"

Him and Folio, not at all. Noah, yes I minded.

I didn't appreciate him acting different around me when we were alone as opposed to when people were around us.

"Nope," I smiled.

The four of us walked quietly to the restaurant with Folio next to me, Jolly and Noah behind us. Folio bumped his shoulder with me which made me peer up at him.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a while. Outside of work," he said.

I gave a half shrug. "Just been keeping to myself the last few days."

"Does that have anything to do with," Folio threw a thumb over his shoulder towards Noah.

"No," I said a little too quickly, afraid as if he could see in my mind what I had been doing back in my room. "I forgot how busy life on the road is, that's all."

"What did he do to make you avoid him?" he asked, seeing right through my lie.

This caused Noah to step closer to the two of us, forcing his way between Folio and I.

"I didn't do anything," Noah defended.

My body was still buzzing post orgasm so having him this close to made my stomach flutter and head hazy.

"Right," I muttered under my breath and gave myself some space from him, allowing Jolly to take my spot next to Noah.

"Did we do anything to put you off?" Jolly asked.

I shook my head. "No, not at all. Everyone has been nice. I meant what I said, I've just been tired."

Noah peered over at me past Jolly, something unreadable on his face, but said nothing while we turned the block, the restaurant coming into view. Davis, Byran, Matt, and Nick Ruffilo were already seated at a table outside as we walked up. My phone buzzed in my pocket and as I saw yet another notification from Only Fans, I didn't realize that the only open seat was next to Noah.

Cursing under my breath, I sat tentatively next to him and pocketed my phone, not wanting him to peak over my shoulder and see the notification.

I had a few new subscribers which meant people were paying for my content. Maybe soon things will start picking up and I wouldn't have to worry as much.

The server came over to take our order and I frowned at Matt as he ordered a pitcher of beer for all of us to share.

"Can I have a water and four chicken tacos please?" I asked with a smile.

"You don't want a beer?" Matt asked.

I shook my head. "I don't drink; well much anyway. I do for special occasions but not really feeling like it right now."

Noah muttered something under his breath, and my eyes snapped over to him.

"Care to share what you mumbling under your breath?"

"You seemed pretty into it last tour in Chicago," he didn't bother to look away from his phone.

I stared at him with my jaw slack, upset for him bringing up that night but also amazed that he remembered that. With the way his jaw ticked and his hand gripped around his phone, it was clear he thought of that night often. I got drunk after a show because the guy I'd been talking to all night and flirting with was actually married. His wife was the reason why he was at the show in the first place but decided to hang out at the merch booth instead.

"Is that why you're such a dick to me?" I wondered.

Thankfully, the server had left, so they didn't have to watch us bicker but for the rest of the guys at the table, it didn't save them.

"You guys get drunk all the time. The one night I did, you hold it against me? For what?" I snapped.

I wasn't yelling but the table next to us spared us a few glances of concern.

"We don't need someone to carry us from the venue to the hotel, three blocks," Noah finally met my gaze.

I scoffed, completely baffled this was why he was such an asshole towards me. Because I got drunk last tour and he had to carry me back to the hotel?

"You're fucking unbelievable, Noah." I shook my head and turned away from him.

If I wasn't starving, I would head back to the hotel. But I already ordered and didn't want my food to go to waste.

Folio, who was sitting on my other side, looked at me with sympathetic eyes and gave my knee a squeeze underneath the table. The rest of dinner passed by with Noah and I not speaking another word to each other while the others chatted amongst themselves. I ate my food and sipped at my water in peace, checking my phone every now and then to see if Lana had texted me back. It was almost eight in the evening, and I debated on wondering if it was too late to call to talk to my mom when my phone rang.

Excusing myself from the table, I walked down the block to answer the call. It was a fast phone call, my mom being too exhausted to talk. Instead, I caught up with Lana.

"Alright, well let me know how she is in the morning. I'll be in the bus for half of the day so I can talk with her," I sighed.

"I will, dear. She's so exhausted from today. I looked through some photo albums with her to help her remember but nothing. There was nothing in her eyes."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded even though Lana couldn't see.

"Yeah, those vacant eyes. It's been happening a lot lately."

There was a lot of rustling on Lana's end before her soft voice came through. "I promise you. She's in good hands. When she remembers things, we have a lot in common."

That made me smile.

"Good. And I'll send you the first payment tomorrow," I said much to my dismay.

"No rush, dear."

We talked for a few more minutes before I hung up, suddenly exhausted and wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed for the rest of the night. When I returned to the table, I halted seeing that only Noah sat there. He heard me walk up and handed me my to go box of leftover food.

"The bill's been taking care of," he said.

I didn't meet his gaze, still upset with him, as I snatched the box out of his hand.

"Don't worry, I didn't flirt with anyone to get free food."

Noah sighed then pushed himself out of his chair, immediately towering over me.

"Do you always have to talk with such an attitude," he gritted out through clenched teeth.

I stood toe to toe with him. "Only for you, baby."

The pet name was supposed to come out as playful, no meaning behind it. But with the way Noah's eyes flashed and a low noise vibrated from his throat, I knew it had the opposite effect on him. His tongue rolled over his bottom lip and I wanted nothing more that to taste them.

"Can I walk you back to the hotel?" Noah asked.

Unbelievable.

"Oh, now that no one is around you act like you give a shit?" I snarled.

He raised his hands. "I'm trying to be nice, Y/N."

"Here's a piece of advice," I snatched my purse from the table, "If you want to be nice to me, stop doing it when we're alone. It makes me think you're embarrassed to be seen with me."

Noah's face fell and began shaking his head. "It's not that."

"Oh, right? It was because of that night in Chicago where you had to carry me back to the hotel. News flash, Noah. I didn't fucking ask you too. So do me a favor, unless it deals with work, don't talk to me the rest of the time were on tour."

Not bothering to listen to him come up with another excuse, I turned on my heels and stomped back towards the hotel.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[thepixelelf]

the only way to get a good sleep

genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 1.3k warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day! ((it's technically a recast of an old fic of mine so I'm just praying you haven't read that one shhhhhh))

Seokmin misses you lots n lots.

Seokmin hasn’t slept in days.

That’s an exaggeration, of course, but any sleep he’s gotten has been fitful, restless, and generally not a good time.

He never really thought you’d be a catalyst like this. You only moved in two weeks ago -- some of your boxes are still sitting unopened in the living room, waiting for you to unpack them. The closet and dresser space Seokmin freed up for you remains half empty, since you were both too lazy to fully move in, more focused and elated on the fact that you’d finally done it. Seokmin had taken weeks, no, months to finally ask the question, and the way you’d answered so easily (with a smile, a laugh, and a hug) made it seem like all his worrying was ridiculous. The move was stressful, and cancelling your rent with your previous landlord was a nightmare, but the fact that you to would be together made Seokmin see everything through rose-tinted glasses. He didn’t care what he had to go through as long as you shared a home at the end of the day.

Of course, you two had slept in the same bed many times before you moved in, but somehow this was different. In the past two weeks, Seokmin swore he woke up already smiling, simply because you were there; beside him; living with him.

But since you left two days ago, he hasn’t slept a wink.

He knows you’re not gone forever, but still, he just can’t force his eyes to close; his breath to even out; his mind to rest. And he doesn’t know when exactly you’ll be back, either, considering your impromptu trip back to your family’s home wasn’t planned at all.

His mind wanders to the last message you sent him.

[my moonlight] miss you too, my sunshine

He lies still on top of the bedsheets, eyes trailing along the bumps and ridges of the ceiling. Sleep won’t come tonight, either -- he can tell.

Maybe he should call you. Last time he tried that (the night before), it got him about an hour of light sleep before he woke up again, but at least it was something. He needs to work tomorrow, and he isn’t sure he can keep his eyes open there after three nights of tossing and turning.

Sitting up, his hand wanders along the bed looking for his phone, which he picks up and detaches from its charger. It’s midnight already. Should he risk waking you up?

Well, he knows you have your phone on silent most of the time, so if you are asleep, he won’t be bothering you. He’s got nothing to lose.

The dial tone rings in his ear twice before he flops back down on the bed, his other hand coming to rest upon his stomach. After another two rings, he almost gives up, but then your voice makes an appearance, and he smiles.

“Trouble sleeping?” is the first thing you say. You really know him too well.

“Yeah... it’s just not the same without you.”

Along with faint footsteps, he hears your quiet laughter through the speaker. “You cheeseball.”

“I mean it,” he says, and he does. “What are you up to?”

“Are you asking me to talk until you fall asleep?”

His smile widens, and he knows he should be trying to keep still in order to fall asleep, but he can’t help it. “Only if you’re willing.”

“Well.” Something dings around you. “As much as I’d love to lull you to sleep, I need you to do something for me.”

“Hm?” Seokmin perks up, his interest piqued.

“I got you something,” you say. “It should be at your door in, hm, twenty seconds?”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, still holding his phone up to his ear. His lips purse in confusion.

“How’d you get it up here? Deliveries go to the lobby desk.”

“Oh, I have my ways.” Somehow, Seokmin can hear your smile. “Just open the door.”

Knowing you, Seokmin simply complies, leaving the bedroom to reach the door to the apartment hall. He’s a bit too tired to understand much, but he knows anything from you is worth getting out of bed for. After fumbling with the chain lock, he finally twists the doorknob.

You stand just beyond the doorway, your phone held up at your ear and a bright smile on your face.

“Hey stranger.”

Too tired to comprehend what’s right in front of him, he still speaks into his phone. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

You humour him, talking into your phone as well. “I wanted to surprise you. Did it work?”

He nods. “Uh huh.”

When he sees you laugh and hang up, he glances at his phone to do the same, still awestruck to have you standing there.

“C’mere you big softie, I missed your hugs,” you say, opening up your arms.

Seokmin smiles again and swoops in to wrap his arms around you. He relishes in your warmth, a smile against the skin of your neck -- which he knows you can feel. Slowly, he closes the door behind you and waddles with you through the apartment. It’s awkward with the way he clings to you, but he doesn’t care. He takes you all the way to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed with you squished underneath, and his heart flutters at your laughter.

“What’s this?” you tease.

“You were gone too long,” he says instead of answering, and you laugh again.

Despite your playful words, you soothingly pat the back of Seokmin’s head as you speak. “Well, it’s not every day your kid sister dumps her fiance.”

“She’s not a kid anymore.”

“To you, maybe,” you counter. “To me, she’ll always be my kid sister.”

Seokmin hums into your skin, already feeling the effects of holding you in his arms. He’s insanely tired. Still, he cares enough to ask, “How is she?”

“Heartbroken.” You sigh, a frown on your lips that Seokmin can guess is there rather than see it. “But she’ll get better. She’s strong like that.”

“Mhmm...” Seokmin’s eyes are closed -- have been since falling into bed with you -- and he’s starting to drift off. Before he can fully lose himself though, he lifts up on his elbows so he hovers above you, a drowsy smile on his face. He dips low, meeting his lips with yours in a soft, lazy kiss. You reciprocate at the exact same level, simply pursing your lips and not asking for anything more. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes to kiss him again.

Seokmin can’t say which kisses of yours are his favourite; he thinks he may get a new one every time. Whenever your lips are on his will be his favourite, he thinks.

He presses his forehead to yours, mirroring your wide smile with one of his own, eyes drifting shut once again. Collapsing on top of you, he hugs you tight, ready to fall asleep right then and there atop the covers.

“Seokmin,” you whisper, kissing his temple and twisting so you’re on your side. “I need to brush my teeth.”

He groans; hugs you tighter.

You laugh. Your hands move to push him off, though you put no real effort into it. “I gotta change too, sunshine. I’ll be right back.”

Propping himself up again, Seokmin opens his eyes to meet your sparkling ones.

“Hey,” he says. He kisses you again, and your smile persists.

“Hey.”

You reach your hands up to cup his cheeks, grazing your thumbs over his skin as if to test that he’s real. He loves when you do that.

His lips meet yours; soft, warm.

“You wanna get married?”

“Mmm...” you hum in a sleepy daze. Your hands pull him down for yet another kiss, this one lasting longer, though still as sweet and slow as the others. When you retract, you wrap your arms around his neck and whisper in his ear, “Can I brush my teeth first?”

Seokmin sleeps better tonight than he ever has before.

part two: How to Harvest Sunshine

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #lee seokmin scenarios #lee seokmin imagines #lee seokmin fluff #dokyeom fluff #dokyeom scenarios #dokyeom imagines #dokyeom x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #.100 #.200 #.300 #.400 #.500 #.600 #.700 #.800 #seokmin scenarios #seokmin x reader #lee seokmin x reader #seokmin imagines #svt fluff #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt x reader

[mystery-star]

Sure Bet - Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral) 

Warnings: swearing 

Words: 2277

A/N: Just a short idea I’ve head when reading @sachiko1309 's Spock fanfiction yesterday. Hope you don't mind me tagging you, no need to read if you dont' want to lol.

Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms! 

- 

“What?!” your friend and Captain almost exclaimed, making most of the people in the rec room look at you. Sometimes being with Jim when he was drunk wasn’t fun. “You mean you never kissed someone?” he took another sip from his drink as if to overcome the disbelief. 

“Of course I did” you defended yourself “It just only were people that I was in a relationship with” and you only were in your second relationship so there was that. 

“Well, we gotta change that” he said with a conspirational glance to his friend Bones. You too glanced at the doctor but he didn’t seem as enthusiastic and said he wouldn’t want to force you to do anything. “No, no that’s not what I meant” he looked back at you “We just should make it... attractive for you” 

“Meaning what?” 

“Well....” he rubbed his nose “let’s say that next time you come to the bridge to deliver a report, you can kiss someone on the bridge. And if you do, I swear I will wear a female uniform with a skirt for three days” 

“You mean kiss someone while on duty?” he shrugged 

“Better than while being drunk, huh?” you raised your eyebrows. Not because you disagreed with the whole idea. After all, your current relationship was with Commander Spock after all who did work on the bridge. 

“And what if I won’t kiss anyone?” 

“Then I’d say the next drinks are on you” 

“The drinks on the ship are free” you reminded him  

“I meant back on a planet or so. What say you?” he finished his drink. 

“I mean... just three days? Does the time you wear it depend on who I kiss or how I kiss them?” 

“Okay here’s the rules. The kiss has to be on the mouth. If you kiss someone you’re friends with it’s gonna be three days. If it’s someone else or you know... making out, I’ll wear it for a week. Also you can’t kiss me. I don’t count. Or Bones if he’s there. But anyone else” 

“We’re not including Spock in this are we? He’d not only find it very illogical but probably also finds a dozen rules that forbid this” Leonard asked and Jim turned to him 

“Tell you what Bones, (Y/N) actually has the guts to kiss him, I wear the dress ten days” trying to hide your smile you nipped at your drink. After all he would definitely be the one you kissed. Not your fault if no one knew of your relationship and Jim was raising the stakes himself.  

“You’re on” you said. “But it hasn’t to be tomorrow. In the course of the week” 

“Deal” 

- 

The next day you needed to deliver a report to the bridge but to your dismay the Captain was nowhere to be seen. Well, now you had to come back another time. 

“Yeoman?” you heard Spock ask from the Captain’s chair 

“I have the reports, sir” you told him “I was just wondering what to do since the Captain isn’t here. Do you think it’s possible I’ll leave them for him and pick them up later? Or will you sign them?” you hoped he’d say no to the latter. 

“According to the Captain he should be back shortly”  

“Alright” you said, almost thrusting the PADD into his hands “I’ll come and get them back in a bit”  

“Very well” Spock said and you gave a nod, stepping back into the turbolift and letting out a deep breath when it went down. Part of you wished it would already be over. It wasn’t the kiss you were nervous about but Spock’s reaction. Not because you had agreed to keep the relationship a secret, in fact you were planning to let others know soon but to just do it so sudden and kiss him so openly when you hadn’t shared that many kisses - Vulcan or human ones – before. 

- 

When you returned to the bridge an hour later Bones was there too and you weren’t sure if you were happy about it or not. Sure he would give you hell for kissing Spock but you also knew how much he would tease Jim when you did. 

“Yeoman” the Captain greeted you “I bet you’re here for the reports” 

“I am. But not just that” you added the second part a little quieter. He handed you the PADD and as was regulation you quickly checked the signature before giving a nod. Instead of leaving directly as you usually did, unless there was something else you had to do on a particular day, you decided to walk a short circle on the bridge so your two friends wouldn’t know who you’d kiss right away. Oh, you could feel almost all eyes on you because even those that didn’t know of the bet were wondering what you did but suddenly you found you didn’t care. Of course the only who didn’t seem to have noticed what was going on was Spock. Only when you stopped in front of him did he look up and you threw a quick last glance to Jim and Bones, the first looking a little pale and it wouldn’t have surprised you if he jumped up at that moment and retreated from the bet in that moment. 

“Is there something you require from me, Yeoman?” Spock asked.  

“Kind of” you said quietly and looked at him “I know this may be a bit weird and illogical and I’m sorry” you heard Bones snort but there was a huge smile on his face. Slowly you placed your hands on Spock’s arms, slowly leaning in because even if you were in a relationship you would not force him into a kiss just for a bet. He didn’t move and still stood there ramrod straight. But not because he was not okay with what you were doing, this was a different kind of stiffness. More one of confusion. You got onto your tiptoes and when he realized what you were going to do and didn’t pull back, a sign he wasn’t in the mood for a kiss you ignored his questioning ‘Yeoman’ and placed your lips on his. Of course he didn’t do much to respond but it wasn’t that he did nothing because he leant closer and his hands went to your hips. 

“That’s not fair!” Jim’s yell made you break apart and your boyfriend was quick to get a professional distance to you again but there still was some fondness and confusion in his glance.  

“Might I inquire the reason for this seemingly spontaneous display of affection; in public nonetheless?” he had lowered his voice, obviously not wanting the others to hear. You gave a shrug not wanting to tell him the truth right now. 

“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or something but... I just wanted to. And you said you’re okay with letting others know so... well. Might not have been the best moment” he raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything for a while 

“Wait a moment” Bones said “Am I missing something there?” he pointed at the two of you and now everyone was looking even more intensely if that even was possible. But you were glad that no one said anything at least. “Are you two...?” you glanced at Spock to see if he was okay if you confirmed 

“Doctor, I believe question is lacking the inquired element” 

“Don’t make me say it, pointy. Are you two.... you know...?” he made a gesture with his hand 

“I must admit that I am not familiar with sign language and therefore still could not understand what exactly you wish to find out” of course your boyfriend seemed the only one who was still unaware of what Bones was trying to ask and even though you felt bad for him it made you also feel better because maybe the kiss now didn’t' seem too strange anymore 

“A thing okay?” the doctor spat “Dating. Courting. Seeing each other. Having an affair.” 

“While I cannot fully differentiate between all of these human terms for being in a relationship you are quite correct doctor” 

“You knew this” Jim shouted at you 

“Why yes,” you answered “seeing that I am in the relationship it’s obvious that I know of it” 

“I’m not gonna say how much you just sounded like Spock” Bones muttered making you smile. Meanwhile other bridge members were starting to congratulate you or ask question as to how and when you got together. Somehow you were glad that Spock reminded them that they still were on duty and this was something they could discuss after the shift. The Captain then made it an order that everyone got back to work 

“That goes for you too, Yeoman” you only nodded and then left the bridge. 

- 

Early the following morning Bones was at your door 

“What is it?” you asked, fearing there was some kind of emergency 

“Nothing, I just figured you might like to come to the bridge and see to it that the Captain honors his part of the bet” 

“Oh right” you smiled “give me some minutes to get ready” of course the topic you talked about on the way to the bridge was your relationship with the First Officer. Luckily the way wasn’t that long that you could only answer three questions and then were on the bridge. Jim wasn’t here yet, which was good because you needed to see the other’s reactions. Spock seemed confused what you were doing here because your shift only would start in an hour. 

“Just watch and see Spock, this is gonna be good” Bones said with a smirk. After a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity, the door to the turbolift opened and out of it stepped Jim Kirk, in a short sleeved, yellow female skirt-uniform with his coffee in his hands 

“Keptain on...” Chekov started and then let out a hiccup and others too were staring at the Captain. Some tried to hide their smiles, others pretended they were focused on their screens and not looking at all and Spock of course commented it with the raise of an eyebrow. 

“Good morning” Jim said nonchalantly, obviously trying to play it cool and sat down on the chair, trying to adjust the skirt making you giggle. “Is there a problem?” he asked staring daggers at the people who looked at him. 

“You look lovely Jim” Bones chocked out before laughing and it broke the spell and almost the whole bridge crew did the same.  

“How come?” Sulu asked nodding at his superior’s uniform. 

“You can thank Spock being in a relationship for that”  

“Captain, I fail to understand how my relationship correlates with your choice of clothing, especially seeing that both your demeanor and tone suggest you are neither comfortable nor pleased with it” 

“Spock tell me isn’t there a Starfleet regulation against bets?” oh no he was not getting out of this and you threw a glance at Spock but luckily he was already citing the relevant articles, saying that bets per se weren’t forbidden and only gambling or making bets while on duty or cheating were not allowed as well as hosting big tournaments on a Starfleet facilities even with an official license and the like. “That’s not helping. There’s gotta be something. Like... holding back information and making me raise the stakes” 

“I would believe the term is a ‘bluff’ which is permitted during gambling or making bets. It is up to the participating individual to determine the stakes as well as the decision to withdraw should uncertainty arise. Once the wages are made however, I believe it is imperative for humans that they do not withdraw” 

“Tell him Spock” Bones cheered, making the Commander glance at him. 

“Well, then tell me Spock isn’t it highly illogical to make a bet about a we wearing another uniform if (Y/N) kisses someone?” 

“Yes Captain, I do agree. However, as I have noticed previously humans tend to take a multitude of illogical actions. In this particular case, while I do not know all the facts, I believe that it would be met with societal disapproval should you retreat. Especially seeing that you are the Captain of this ship and therefore vowed to uphold proper conduct and be a role model” 

“Spock, I think that’s the first time I wholeheartedly agree with you. Couldn’t have said it better” 

“Fuck it Spock. I don’t think this uniform is proper conduct or being a role model. Do tell, is there any regulation that forbids to wear a wrong uniform?” 

“The Starfleet Uniform Code clearly states that each commissioned officer or cadet must wear a proper and official uniform displaying the correct colors and rank of their current position. A certain degree of personalization may be permitted under a superior officer, such as wearing cultural or personal jewelry but must be met with approval in some cases. Since there is no article that restricts certain uniform types to a specific gender or even species and you yourself have authorized such personalizations, I can assure you that your choice of uniform does not deviate from any regulation” 

“In plain speech Jim, no way of arguing your way out of there” Bones ‘translated’.  

“Oh, just you wait” the Captain growled “I’m so gonna get back at you for this. And at (Y/N) and Spock too. You better watch your backs” Spock threw you a glance, obviously not sure what Jim meant and you only gave a shrug, deciding this was your time to take your leave from the bridge. 

#spock #spock x reader #spock x you #spock imagine

[seangelfish]

It's alright if i request headcanons for Izumi and Arashi when they s/o feels neglected or ignored because they are busy on their job but she don't say anything until they find her crying for it? Please and thank you

Oooh, you just know how I can never say no to writing angst (to fluff)! Honestly, I can never see Arashi ever neglecting us, but Izumi is a whole different story lmao

When they neglect their s/o for their work

Featured characters: Arashi Narukami, Izumi Sena (separate)

Genres/types: headcanons (angst to fluff), established relationships

Word count: 1,224

Synopsis: Arashi and Izumi have been extremely busy lately, leaving you alone. You try to communicate to them on how you feel, but because of their tight schedules, they couldn't even send you a reply. You wonder how this is going to affect your relationship with them...

ARASHI NARUKAMI

– She told you beforehand that she was going to be busy. She even suggested that you two should keep in touch through video calls. You agreed with this as things went swell through the first few weeks of being separated.

– However, as time went by, she stopped calling you, apologising over text that she had a photoshoot or that she was too tired so she'll call you tomorrow. Though, when tomorrow struck, she was even more busy and had forgotten.

– You forgave her, of course. She's your girlfriend after all, and she's an idol of the big three top units in Ensemble Square. You had to understand that she was going to be busy and indulged in her work.

– But it was so annoying! The two of you planned to have a date this week, but she had to cancel it last minute!

"(Y/N), I'm so so sorry!" she exclaims on the phone. "I promise to make it up to you!"

"Arashi, this has happened way too often nowadays," you begin. "I can't keep–"

"(Y/N), love, I'm sorry, but my break's over. I have to go. Take care of yourself, okay? I love you, bye."

"...Bye."

– And as always, you forgive her.

– But despite your numerous attempts at communication, it seems that Arashi was just too busy to hear you out.

– And eventually, you stop trying.

– You two were becoming distant anyway.

– It seems as if she had forgotten your two year anniversary too. She hadn't called nor messaged you about it, causing your tears to spill as you wrap yourself in the blanket you two shared.

– When she finds you crying to yourself as she finally arrives home, she immediately regrets the way she treated you. She didn't realise it before since you have always kept up your positive facade, but she should've noticed how your smile was always so strained around her nowadays.

– She hugs you tight, soothing you that everything will go back to normal, and promising you that she'll do better as a partner.

"I'm so sorry, my love. You must've felt so lonely... I shouldn't have gotten ahead of myself on work, but I do want you to know that you were always on my mind."

– She wipes your tears and peppers your face with little kisses.

– And little did you know, she didn't forget your 2nd year anniversary as she fishes out a small gift box from her pocket, handing it to you delicately.

– You open it up to find a beautiful diamond necklace.

"Hehe, I saved up to get this for you, my love~!" she chirps happily. "Let me help you put it on!"

– And of course, she wasn't going to end the day there. She had planned a whole night for the two of you to enjoy!

– She helps you get ready, putting make-up on you, zipping up the dress she picked out for you. You can't help but laugh along with her, helping her with her make-up too, and zipping up the matching dress she was going to wear with you.

– Because after all, it's Arashi. She was never going to forget your anniversary, and most importantly, you.

IZUMI SENA

– Izumi is always hopping from one country to another, but he used to call you whenever he wasn't busy. He would ask you how you're doing and if you're eating well, and you'd ask him how he was holding up too.

– You always look forward to when he'd call you, and you were always so excited to see him return to Japan.

– But things weren't the same as it used to be. Calls between you two began to feel like a chore, and slowly but surely, they stopped altogether.

– You kept hoping that he'd call to wish you a good morning, a good night, whatever. You just wanted him to call.

– It was all wishful thinking though.

– Even when you try communicating these feelings to him, he'd brush it off with, '(Y/N), you know how busy I am. I can't call you everyday.'

– You understand that, but still...

– When he’s finally at home, you try to make the best of it. You tell him all about the plans that you came up with, so before he travel abroad again, you two would have already made some new memories together.

– However, he tells you how tired he is, so right now all he wants to do was rest.

– Your heart sinks right there.

"B-But Izumi, it'll be so much fun! Plus, we haven't gone on a date in a while–"

"(Y/N), please be quiet... I really don't have the energy right now."

– And so you leave him be.

– You just wanted to be with him, but it seemed like he didn't.

– You end up watching movies on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket, crying softly to yourself.

– Izumi felt bad for the response he gave you because he knows that you're right, that you two haven't gone on a date in a while, and that with him being gone most of the time, you were probably incredibly lonely.

– When he finds you crying to yourself, he immediately brings you into his embrace, spouting out heartfelt apologises.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)... I'm sorry, please don't cry... I knew how you must've felt with me being gone all the time, yet I still treated you horribly... I shouldn't have only thought about work and myself..."

— He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, kissing your forehead softly.

“So, what did you want to do? We can do all the activities you’ve planned today, but please let me spend some time with you here for a bit.”

— Cuddling with you on the couch, his grip on you was tight but loving. He holds your head gently, stroking your hair.

— It feels nice to be able to do this with him again.

— He also promises that he'll never neglect you again, but he assures you that one of the reasons why he keeps working is to keep you happy and live a peaceful life.

"But you said that you're not able to call me everyday..."

Izumi tenses up at this, remembering how harsh he was that day.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he said. "It's true that I am sometimes too busy to do that, but if you really do want me to call you everyday, I'll do so from now on. But just know, that you never leave my mind... not even for a second."

— You two fall asleep in each other's arms, but he wakes you up after a few minutes so the two of you can spend the day out properly.

— He smiles at you, hand in hand, telling you how much he loves you. He admits that he misses hanging out like this, and that the two of you should do it more often when he comes back from his trips.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. I brought you something from France. It reminded me of you. I hope you like it, my love."

— Despite his harsh personality and tight work schedules, he will always love you.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #fanfic #x reader #arashi narukami x reader #izumi sena x reader #enstars x reader angst #arashi narukami x reader angst #izumi sena x reader angst #arashi narukami x reader fluff #izumi sena x reader fluff

[enhastolemyheart]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 [𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃] — LEE HEESEUNG

PAIRING | bf!heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE | est. relationship, idol!au

WARNINGS | mentions of food, reader gets scared (but not really lol), hee and reader whipped for each other nothing new lol, sharing of the same utensil, mildly suggestive in the end (depends on how you look at it), proofread but please do tell me if there are any mistakes.

PROMPTS USED | give them a taste of your own meaL, with your own cutlery, by own hand (this is not my prompt, I saw this somewhere and thought that it would be a cute fic to write with, so creds to the original person!!) and no this is not requested!

WORD COUNT | 1.5k +

A/N | help why does this fic theme look the same as my Niki one??!?!? like- it was so unintentional😭😭 anyways, IM BACK and I’m here with a fic for you guys, yes just for you. Hope you guys like it, it took me literally weeks to write, cus I was so busy but it’s here!! Request if you have any ideas, I’m always open to it. Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!! I also wanna dedicate this to @hee-pster idek if she will ever read this but it’s her fics that make me very delulu abt hee 😩😩 Enjoy!!

It showed 8:00 pm on the clock above your dresser. You had made plans with your boyfriend today. He would finally get a day break and today from his busy schedule, he decided to come over to your place and stay the night over. 

You got out of your bed, your neck and back hurting as you stretched. Your muscles have cramped because of the vile position you've been sitting in for the past three hours inside your little ‘cocoon’ of your bedroom. 

You trode over to the closet, opening it and looking for a hoodie to wear. It's like after you leave the comfort of your blankets, you suddenly feel way too cold. You grab your boyfriend's hoodie and wear it, the fabric swallowing you whole. 

You exit the room and make your way to the kitchen. Wanting to make a hearty meal for your beloved Heeseung, you look up a recipe for a simple white sauce pasta. You get all the ingredients, lay out all of the needed equipment for the said pasta. You put on an apron and get started.

Meanwhile, Heeseung is on his way home, their manager taking him to your place. His headphones are in his ears, blasting some music from the playlist he made to listen to when he was reminded of you. His eyes are closed, thinking about what to do for the night with you before finally hitting the bed. His fingers acting like little drum sticks as they tap to the beat flowing through his ears. 

Once he reached your door, he took out his –your– keys (you gave him a spare in case of any emergencies), and opened the door leading to your humble abode. 

He walked into the kitchen to be met with you in front of the stove observing the boiling pasta. To an outsider, it looked like you were having an intense staring contest with the food in front of you.

He softly smiles to himself before scurrying his way over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, face giving you a peck on the cheek before looking at you. You tensed before him because of the contact but immediately melted into his touch. 

You put one hand over his and the other softly stroking his cheek, "you scared me hee, I didn't see you walk in."

He chuckles while moving his hands to either side of your hips, "I used the spare keys you gave me. Plus, your reaction was cute when you got startled." 

His attention turns to the food that's being made on the stove, "what're you making?" He takes a look at the pasta over your shoulder that is close to being done.

"Since I have you to myself for the whole day tomorrow starting from now, I decided to make something different for us. Think of it as a 'I'm proud of you for working so hard’ treat." You turn around in his arms and look at him with sincerity in your eyes. 

His hold tightens on you and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before cupping the side of your jaw in a gentle but firm hold, “well thank you very much, my love.” He smiles as he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile up at him, pressing your chin into his broad chest. He lightly chuckles and then swoops down to give you a kiss. you wrap your arms around his waist and his going around your shoulders. 

“You look very pretty in my hoodie by the way,” he says as he looks at you, winking.

You let out a soft chuckle with a small roll of your eyes as you pull away, not letting Heeseung see you with your cheeks burning, because you know he would tease you about it. getting out of his hold, you glance at the pasta and seeing that it’s done, you turn off the stove. You make a step towards the island of your kitchen, Heeseung watching you intently while leaning against the island beside you facing the stove. You roll up the sleeves of your hoodie and turn to your man beside you, “want to help me make the sauce?” He turns himself around and looks at the white sauce recipe displayed on your phone on the side.

“Of course I would love to help y/n.” he says as he rolls up the sleeves of his crewneck. You ask him to get the flour as you put the butter in the pan and as it melts, you request him to add in the flour in the needed measurement. He does so, and you add the milk next. You start to mix the components together till it should turn creamy.

Heeseung wraps his arms around your torso and glides his palms inside your hoodie, his hands resting against your skin giving you warmth. He also leaves little packs on your bare shoulder, at the skin where the hoodie is too loose to cover. You let out a little smile at the little gesture. Your man has always been the one to communicate using physical gestures, he believes that actions speak louder than words. 

“Here, let me help.” Heeseung says as he tries to take the spatula from your hand, to which you just shake him off, “no it’s okay Hee, go rest.”

He smacks his lips as he takes the spatula from your grip with more effort, “no, let me help please.” you mutter a fine, only because your hand was getting tired. You let him take the cooking tool and he steps in your place before he starts to stir the mixture again. You watch him intently from the side, with a grateful smile on your face. You rest your head against his bicep as you watch him stir. He looks down at you with a smile, kisses the crown of your head before going back to work.

 * * *

Heeseung helps you by setting up the table and even offers to carry the hot steaming pot with the delicious Italian delight that you both had made together.

Seated across each other at the table, you serve some pasta on his plate before serving for your own. You gather some of the pasta on your fork, blowing in it to cool it down a bit before lightly holding Heeseung's chin as you feed him the pasta with the other hand. He takes it in with a big bite, looking at the ceiling as he eats, bursts of flavour dancing in his mouth before he takes a sip of water. 

“How was it? Does it need salt or something? Do you not like it?” 

He looks at you with a fond look on his face, chuckling lightly at your worry, “no love, it’s perfect.”

“Don’t lie.” you squint your eyes while pointing your fork at him.

He chuckles, his eyes molding into crescents, “well if you don’t believe me then try for yourself.” he gathered some pasta on his fork before feeding it to you. Your eyes widen as you chew, the food actually tasting good. You look at your boyfriend with the biggest grin and he reciprocates, he loves seeing you so happy no matter what the situation is.

"Wait, this stuff is actually good!” you exclaimed. Heeseung just laughed heartily at your antics, whipped. He raises his hand up, you reciprocating, giving a high-five, intertwining your fingers before letting go.

“I know right, I could eat your pasta everyday.” Heeseung says with his mouth full while pointing to the masterpiece you have made on his plate with the fork.

* * *

You both are cuddling on the couch, you lying down on your back and him lying on top of you, head nestled into the area where your neck meets your shoulder. You wrap your arm around his shoulder while the other one is in your boyfriend's hands, him playing with your ring clad fingers absentmindedly. 

“Thank you for the meal y/n.” he squeezes your hand in his as he looks up at you. You look into his eyes, the very chocolate ones that you often found yourself lost in.

you give him a small peck, “you’re welcome hunny.”

“That’s it? want more.” he pouts.

You chuckle at your cute boyfriend before leaning in again. You kiss him and as you pull away, he swoops back in for more, resulting in wet yet sweet pecks all over your face and neck, making you laugh.

He smiles even brighter in his kisses after hearing your angelic laugh, his favourite melody in the world that he can never get tired of. 

“I love you y/n”  You look up at him as he hovers over you, eyes gleaming and spilling out all the love he can’t express in words, same with yours.

“I love you Hee.” He leans in, giving you a deep, intimate kiss. Sticking your foreheads together after pulling away. He suddenly smirks and detaches from your hold, you raise you eyebrow at him, questioning him in silence.

He yanks you up and throws you over his shoulder, making his way to your shared bedroom. The gesture makes you squeal as you ask what he was doing. 

he laughs, “I’m going to show my girlfriend how much I love her.”

A/N | thank you so much for reading! again requests are open, so is the taglist!! send an ask or comment to be added! see y'all next time!

PEACE AND LOVE <333

© ENHASTOLEMYHEART ON TUMBLR, 2023 — do not translate, copy, modify, or repost any of my works as your own in any platform or form of use.

#<enhastolemyheart3 #enhastolemyheart #heesung x reader #lee heeseung #heeseung drabbles #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #heeseung #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen scenarios

[shywhumpauthor]

Distant

Cw: past and present torture, scar/body shaming, self depreciation, isolation, all hurt/no comfort, creepy whumper, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, noncon touching, extremely vague implications of potential non-con relationship

They separated themself because of their work. That’s what Leader told themself. Getting caught up in the dynamics of the team would only ever be a distraction from the job they had to focus on.

They put distance for a reason. They only interacted the others during meetings or missions. They ate, slept, and planned in their own chambers, far away from the common area that the team shared. They didn’t talk with them, only giving orders when necessary. They led the team, strong even from afar. They were efficient and calculated with everything they did. It wasn’t isolation, it was tactic.

Any personal connections would only distract them, cloud their work and blur the lines between strictly coworkers and the strong familial bond that the others seemed to share. Sometimes Leader would walk by, only reason they were outside their own room being some sort of necessity, and see them. All of five of them, huddled on a couch barely big enough to fit three people, laughing and fooling around as some movie droned on the television. A few plush throw blankets shared among the group. A bowl of popcorn balanced in Teammate’s lap, while Youngest reached over Medic to grab a handful. A loud, shared laugh when that popcorn flew a moment later and smacked Hero in the face.

Leader had walked in and snatched the remote, clicking the TV off.

“We leave at five tomorrow,” they snapped, their lips pressing together as they fixed a glare across the team. Watching as each of their eyes dropped in turn.

“Sorry, Leader,” Right Hand muttered, their posture straightening as they sat up and pushed the blanket off their legs.

Words rested heavy on Leader’s tongue, but they clenched their jaw and swallowed them back. They set the remote down none too gently on the end table, the plastic hitting loud against the wood. Stalked out of the room a moment later, pausing just outside the hall when they heard Youngest’s voice.

“What’s their problem?” The newest teammate whispered, sound carrying just enough so Leader could hear. Something in their chest tightened, a cold emotion seeping through their gut.

“Don’t mind them,” Right Hand mumbled back, words obscured slightly by a shuffle of movement. “They’ve always had a stick up their ass. It’s not personal.”

Leader quickly walked away.

They couldn’t get close. The walls were there for a reason. The team might not necessarily like them, or even respect them, but they listen, and that’s all Leader needs them to do. They weren’t there to be friends with anyone. They were there to lead.

That’s what they did. They led mission after mission, never ending with anything other than overall success. Sure, sometimes there were hiccups, bumps in the plan but success was success, even if hard earned. If they all came back to base, intact and breathing with whatever supplies they had been sent to collect or whatever villain they had been ordered to defeat conquered, it was a success.

Success. They had destroyed the weapon Whumper was building. That’s what the plan had been. Capturing the criminal would have been a nice bonus, but it wasn’t the plan. The plan that was successful. The ride to return to base, the six of them packed in the open back of a military grade Jeep, there was an air of pride that settled across the team. Exhausted, worn, but well-earned satisfaction.

Right Hand sat with one arm around Youngest’s shoulders, holding them against them as the vehicle rocked over the uneven roads. The kid was out cold, dead tired. They had done well, Leader had been watching. They did everything right, just the way they had learned in training. Fought back three henchmen at once, helped hold the line of defense while Leader went to complete the mission. If anyone earned rest, it really was them. A bruise bloomed across their jaw, a small split tearing their eyebrow, but they seemed to have avoided any serious blows.

Teammate sat to their other side, looking dead tired but smiling softly. One hand fooled with Youngest’s hair, the other resting close to their chest wound in gauzy white bandages.

Hero and Medic sat close, against the wall that separated the body of the vehicle from the canvas tarp section the team sat in. The former was bandaging Hero’s leg, which had a nasty looking slit running down nearly the entire length of their thigh to their knee, speaking to them quietly.

Leader sat separate from them all, by the back door where the tarp would flip up and the gate would open when it was time for them to exit. A low ringing buzzed in their ears as they focused on a flickering spot of light, one that just managed to filter through a gap in the canvas. Nausea clawed at their stomach and crept up their throat, the sting of bile making their eyes burn as they forced their breathing to remain steady. They clutched their jacket tightly around them, the thick fabric doing nothing to soothe the continuous chills that raked up their spine. One arm wrapped around their abdomen, holding the coat closed over them while their other hand was stuck through the open zipper, palm pressing firm against their side.

They didn’t think it was bleeding too badly, but their dark jacket would turn bloodstains invisible so they had nothing to go off of but the warm, sticky liquid spilling past their fingers. It had definitely slowed in the past half hour, which they knew was a good sign. Pain painted darkness around the corners of their vision, but they were able to blink back the clarity. That was also a good sign.

Only a few more minutes until they were back to base. Until they could slip out of the truck and away to their chambers. Medic would take care of the rest of the teams’ injuries, they didn’t have to worry about them. Right Hand would give the orders for the night, though there wasn’t much to do other than rest and recuperate. It would all be taken care of. If Youngest were to question where they were, Hero would roll their eyes and say something like “they’re mad we didn’t catch Whumper. Just let them sulk,” and that would be the end of it. They doubted they would ask though. It was clear the newest teammate didn’t like Leader, which was fair enough. They were just the asshole who ordered the rest of them around, the obnoxious commander that no one liked but they were too scared of to not follow orders.

A long time ago, long before Youngest joined the team, before Medic and Hero were ever officially assigned to their squad, they had tried. They had tried to form the kind of bond they saw across the team. Before they were Leader, back when they were under Mentor’s command. They had never quite fit in to the dynamic. Leader had been painfully aware. They tried not to notice the way the atmosphere would change when they entered a room, the way their team would address them politely but the tension beneath was clear. The unease, unsettlement.

Leader didn’t blame them. Back then, they hadn’t bothered to hide. They would walk into training with a tank top and shorts, scars and mangled flesh practically on display. When they bore Whumper’s marks not with shame but anger, a drive for revenge they dreamed about enacting.

The first time they had heard Mentor talking to Commander, they hadn’t really been surprised. More hurt than anything, quiet voices floating through the hall after combat training. The pitying words laced with a disgust only Leader could hear. “What happened to them?” But concern was the last thing in their tone. That was the first time, hearing how clearly they spoke behind Leader’s back, they realized just how warily the others acted around them. How they walked on eggshells whenever Leader entered a room. They didn’t think anyone really noticed—or cared—when they pulled away after that. When they retreated to their chambers, started eating meals in their room. Opting to train alone rather than with the group. Wearing thick long sleeved shirts whenever they went anywhere outside the privacy of their own room. And then even when they were alone. The ugly, uneven, raised scars only ever seemed to mock them, until they couldn’t bear to look at them.

Leader squeezed their eyes shut with a shudder, pain rippling across their side.

The mission had been a success. They destroyed the weapon.

All because Whumper had let them.

The villain had intercepted them the moment Leader had split off from the group to fulfill their part. Had wrapped their hands around their throat and shoved them against the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of them.

“Oh Leader, it’s so good to see you again.” Whumper grinned, their thumbs digging against Leader’s throat hard enough to make them gag. Only laughing as they scrambled to claw at the grip restraining them. “You really should come visit more often. I was starting to miss you.”

It still hurt to take a deep breath. The hood of their jacket pulled up and their chin tucked down, the bruises that were still settling into an angry red obscured. They couldn’t imagine swallowing.

“How badly do you want this, Leader? What would you do to make sure your team leaves here alive?” Whumper had asked.

“Anything. Please.”

Anything was a very broad category. Leader had meant it. Anything. Whatever you want. Just let them leave. Leader’s head throbbed as they leaned it back against the canvas. They had to be almost home.

“They don’t know, do they?” Whumper asked, a blade dancing between their fingers as Leader stripped off their jacket, then their shirt. Folded them with trembling hands and set them aside.

“No.” Leader answered, truth weighing heavy on their voice. Whumper only tipped their chin, a silent order that rang loud through the room. The back room, the very weapon that Leader was supposed to destroy constructed right in the center of the lab. They lowered themself to their knees besides it, letting their head dip in submission.

Their back ached. The rail dug into their spine, sending a small jolt down their back at every bump in the road. They would be back soon. Deep breaths. Slow inhale, slow exhale. Only a few more minutes until they’d be able to retreat to the only haven they had.

“You haven’t forgotten, have you, Leader?” Whumper crouched in front of them, dragging the flat of the blade down Leader’s cheek. Twisting it so the tip traced across their bottom lip, barely scratching the skin as they dragged it down their chin, their neck.

“No.” Leader responded quietly, fighting to remain still as the blade traced an old scar down their sternum. Drawing a faint line of red over the raised skin. “No sir.”

The road changed from gravel to dirt beneath the tires and Leader almost cried with relief. A couple minutes. Only a few hundred more seconds until they could disappear. They watched as Teammate lightly shook Youngest’s shoulder, rousing them. As Medic began to pack their supplies back into their first aid duffel. Something twisted in their stomach.

“You were always so good for me,” Whumper whispered, the tip of the knife resting just above Leader’s naval. Their other hand raised to cup the hero’s cheek, thumb brushing over a faint scar that split their cheekbone. Their touch was so gentle, so caring Leader couldn’t help but lean into it. Shame and longing burning in their chest as Whumper smiled sadly at them.

“Oh you poor thing. Surrounded by your team but so, so alone.” They let the commander rest their head in their palm, watching the emotions dance behind Leader’s eyes. “I’ve never hurt you as bad as they’ve been, have I?” Their voice was barely audible, but the truth rang through the room. Tears stung Leader’s eyes, a single one slipping from the corner and trailing down their cheek. Whumper tenderly brushed it away.

They could still feel the hands against their skin. Phantoms of touch lingering over their face, brushing away the tears Leader fought back with every sliver of strength they could muster. Something was eating away at them from inside, tearing them apart piece by piece. They stumbled up as the truck finally stopped, not even waiting for the engine to turn off before they opened the back gate and climbed out, movements uneven and graceless.

“You really need a win, don’t you?” The words seemed to echo in Leader’s mind, leaving their ears ringing. They let their eyes slip shut, just for a moment. They could almost forget where they were. They could almost forget the tip of the knife resting against their abdomen. They were drowning in the touch, the care from hands that had only ever hurt them. They weren’t sure if they wanted to come up for air.

They nodded against Whumper’s hand, slowly opening their eyes once more.

They were in the base before any of their team got out of the truck. They moved through the halls in a daze, following a route in their mind that they weren’t quite paying attention to. Their hand shook as they typed the code to their room into the keypad by the door, legs wobbling beneath them as they stumbled inside.

They made a straight path for the bathroom, fumbling off their jacket as they went. Blood soaked their undershirt, plastering it to their side but they tugged it over their head, ignoring as it pulled at the wounds.

They snatched a hand towel from the rack it hung on, the white fibers turning red the moment they touched it. They pressed the linen to the wound, swallowing back a hiss. The cuts weren’t bad, but something about it made the gashes sting worse than they would if the towel was soaked in alcohol. They would throw it out later. Not worth trying to wash out. Same with their undershirt.

The mission had been a success. The weapon was destroyed. Gone, Whumper’s plans wrecked. But Leader had failed their assignment. They were supposed to be the one to destroy it, and they hadn’t. Villain had torn apart their own work. Ripped it to shreds right there and burned the remains. Set the whole damn room on fire. Leader could still feel the heat flush against their cheeks.

They let the team escape, though they had the forces to subdue them all. They let them walk away unscathed and celebrating a success that was given to them.

“Hold still for me, alright?” Whumper murmured against Leader’s ear, dragging their empty hand down Leader’s bare side. Feeling the goosebumps rise beneath their fingertips as they stopped along a familiar set of scars by the bottom of their ribcage. Let their palm rest over the marred skin for a few long moments before moving to grip the hero’s arm, holding it still as they raised the knife. Leader shuddered and bit their lip, letting their weight sink to rest on their heels. Their other hand clenched against their thigh, nails digging into their palm.

They couldn’t hold back a gasp as the tip of the blade plunged deep into their skin. The pain was sharp and bright, fire licking below their flesh as Whumper slowly twisted the knife downwards, following the path of a raised scar. Their other hand held Leader’s arm, just above their elbow for stability. Their grip firm, comforting as they hummed a quiet reassurance.

“You’re doing well, Leader.” Whumper said quietly, gaze focused where the knife split the skin, precise and dangerous. “Your team doesn’t recognize how hard you work. They’re fools. All of them.”

“I’ve always seen your dedication. Your strength. You can’t show them your pain or they’ll think you’re weak.”

Whumper’s hand moved up their arm, resting on their shoulder as they began the next deep line. Leader winced and Whumper hushed them.

“I’ve hurt you. I’ve pushed you past your limits, broken you. But I have never thought you were weak.”

Leader pulled the towel away from the wound, grimacing as they did so. They moved to the sink and fumbled with the faucet, putting a clean corner of the towel under the water. They leaned heavily against the counter, slowly bringing the cloth to dab away at some of the drying blood.

The knife dropped away from their skin as a bead of blood rolled down their torso. Whumper’s hand left their skin, pulling aside their own jacket’s hem so they could slip the blade back into its sheath. They shifted onto their knees, even with Leader’s height as they brought both of their hands to either side of their face. Cupping their cheeks with a care Leader had never felt before. Thumbs running soothingly over their cheekbones.

“Never forget who you belong to,” Whumper murmured quietly, pulling Leader’s face forwards so they could press a kiss to their forehead. Lips warm and possessive against their clammy skin, lingering for just a moment before pulling back.

Leader could still feel the heat against their forehead, sticking to their skin as they cleaned the area around the cuts. A small collection, maybe eight lines in total, neat and perfectly in line with the old scars below. Two letters, letters that had once been lost among the dozens of other marks and blemishes, now highlighted in red. Making sure they’d never forget.

They heard a small buzz, vision speckled as they looked down. Their communicator still clipped to their belt, the small screen on top lit dull green with a message. They could only make out the first few letters of the contact, but they knew who it was. Right Hand, probably to confirm they should take over the mission review. They’d take their answer whether Leader responded affirmative or not at all. They didn’t bother to reply.

#whump #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #its me coal #coal wrote something #whumpee #whumper #whump drabble #whump snippet #whump prompt #whump prompts #creepy whumper #captured whumpee #captivity whump #writing prompt #intimate whumper #kidnapped whumpee #abused whumpee #leader whump #torture whump #emotional whump #physical whump #all hurt /no comfort #whump fic #whump scene #whump scenes #whump scenario

[cutielando]

hold me close until i die ~ harry potter

my masterlist

a/n: this is going to be a little depressing, so buckle up.

♡♡♡♡♡

Being on the run was taking a toll on all of you.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you had been searching for Horcruxes for weeks and you were starting to lose hope of ever finding them all.

You were tired, you were drained of every ounce of will and hope, you were missing home more than anything. You missed the warmth you felt while cuddling with your blanket next to the fire, the taste of hot chocolate, the comfort of your bed, the feeling of safety that home provided you.

Your mood drop was visible to the three of your friends, but especially to Harry.

You didn't want to tell Harry that you couldn't do it anymore, that you wanted nothing more than to go home and leave everything behind you.

"What's wrong?" he asked you one night when he found you outside of your shared tent, looking at the black sky.

"Nothing" you mumbled, but you knew he wouldn't believe you.

"Love, I know you, I know when something is wrong. You know you can tell me anything" he sat down next to you and pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in order to keep you warm.

"Promise you're not going to hate me?" you said in a small voice, looking up at him with big eyes.

"I could never hate you"

You sighed, thinking of ways to break the news to him in the nicest way possible, careful not to hurt his feelings.

"I just, I can't do it anymore. I can't keep living on the run like this, I'm not made for this. I want to go home, I want to wrap myself in my favorite blanket and stay near the fire, I want to laugh with my Mom and play Quidditch with my Dad. I want to go back to my old life, but I also know how important this is to you and I didn't want to hurt your feelings by telling you that I don't want to do this any longer"

You couldn't see Harry's face because your face was buried in his chest, but you could tell that he heard you loud and clear by the way his posture changed.

Nobody talked for a moment, the only thing that could be heard was the faint conversation Ron and Hermione were having.

"I understand. I know you, I could tell that you weren't happy about this. I'm not mad, if that's what you're scared of. As soon as we're able to be on the move again, we'll drop you off at home and continue by ourselves. I don't want to come with us if you don't feel safe. I love you, and your safety and well-being are always going to be my top priority" when he finished with a kiss on your head, you let out a big sigh of relief.

You were so glad that he wasn't mad at you. You loved him more than anything and you truly wanted to help him, but it's not the lifestyle you wanted, no matter how much you wanted to trick yourself into believing it was right for you.

"I'm sorry I can't be of more help. I just didn't think it would be this hard, being away from everyone I love and constantly worrying if I'm going to live to see tomorrow" you said, looking out in the distance at the quiet forest.

"I know. I should have known it was not going to be easy, for any of us, but especially for you three because you have people at home that you care about and I don't. But don't worry, as soon as we can get moving, I'll take you home"

"Thank you" you rested your forehead against his, savoring the quiet moment you had with your boyfriend.

♡♡♡♡♡

It had been a couple of days after your conversation with Harry and Hermione had informed everyone that it was finally safe for you to get moving again.

You had talked to everyone about your plan and they were surprisingly supportive, understanding how much you needed to go home.

On the day when you would finally be leaving, the trio was packing up the tent and stashing everything in their bags while you were standing outside the tent, watching for any anomalies.

A twig breaking in the distance ruined the thick silence of the trees, making you stiffen and grip your wand tighter into your hand.

"Hello?" you called out, distancing yourself from the tent and walking deeper into the forest.

Another twig snapped, this time from your right. You turned around but you didn't see anyone. Just as you let out a sigh and went to turn around, you felt something hard hit you over the head, making you fall down to the ground and hold your now bleeding head.

"Hello, Y/N. Remember me?" a distant voice filled your ears, but you couldn't place it.

Your vision had gone blurry and you were starting to feel lightheaded, the blood loss starting to affect you.

Before you could do anything else, you felt your eyelids go heavy and close, the last thing you heard being your boyfriend screaming for you in the distance.

♡♡♡♡♡

When you regained consciousness, you had a splitting headache and you could barely gather enough strength to open your eyes.

"Y/N" you heard someone whisper your name from afar, and you desperately tried to open your eyes and see where the voice was coming from.

"Y/N, please open your eyes" another voice whispered, and it sounded awfully familiar.

"Love, please open your eyes and look at me" a third voice was heard, and you finally recognized it to belong to your boyfriend.

You managed to open your eyes a little, the blurry figures of your 3 friends slowly coming into view. They were on the other side of the room, their hands and legs tied with chains to the wall.

"Where are we? What the bloody hell happened?" your voice was hoarse, and you held a hand to your head, trying to soothe the throbbing in your head.

"Snatchers, found us in the forest. Caught us when we exited the tent after Harry yelled your name. The next thing we knew, we woke up here" Ron explained in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure there was nobody to overhear your conversation.

"Damn it. Are you alright?" you asked, resting your head against the cold wall and looking over to them.

They looked just as bad as you felt. There were bruises on their arms, mud all over their clothes.

"We're fine, you took the hardest hit in the head" Hermione looked at your head worriedly.

"Well, well, well. What a nice family reunion" the teasing voice of Bellatrix filled the filthy room where you were, her footsteps echoing and coming closer and closer.

"Unlike you, we actually have a family" Ron grumbled, struggling against the chains his hands were tied with.

"Little Weasley has got a tongue, how cute. Y/N, how are you doing, my darling? How's your little head?" she turned her attention to you, cocking her head and looking at you with a satisfied smirk.

"My head is fine" you mumbled through gritted teeth, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how much pain you were in.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? After all, you didn't come here to feel at home" she approached you and stuck a hand inside her robes, pulling out a dagger and twirling it around in her hand.

"Don't you dare touch her, you vile bitch" Hermione screamed, thrashing against the chains.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy little Mudblood, or you'll be next. Now, Y/N, are there any last words you would like to say to your friends? Maybe to your little boyfriend?"

You turned your head and looked straight at Harry, tears streaming down your face as you came to terms with the fact that you were going to die in the next few minutes. Tears started filling Harry's eyes too, all while he was trying to escape from the chains.

"Harry, look at me, love. Don't cry, it's okay, I'll be fine. You go home and tell my parents I'm sorry and that I love them, okay? I'm sorry I left them alone and I'm sorry we didn't get to say goodbye. Promise me, will you?" your voice was shaky, cracking at every other word.

"Don't talk like that, Y/N. We're all going to be fine, you'll get to tell them that yourself" he was struggling, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable.

He couldn't lose you too, not after all the people he had lost. You were the only constant and he couldn't bear imagining a life without you in it.

"Promise me you'll go to my parents, Harry. Please" more tears streamed down his face as he nodded, watching you give him a teary smile.

"I love you, Harry, more than anything in this world. Be strong for me"

Before he could say anything else, you felt the cold blade pierce your stomach and Bellatrix's breath against the side of your face.

"Tell your brother I said hi" she whispered in your ear, pulling away and taking out the dagger.

You felt warm blood seeping through your shirt, and your breaths became ragged as you tried to apply pressure on the wound.

Bellatrix's footsteps became distant, and at last Harry freed himself of the chains and sprinted towards you, taking your head and placing it on his lap.

"Look at me, Y/N. You're going to be okay, we're going to get you out of here and you'll be fine" he tried to sound strong, but he was dying on the inside as he watched you struggle to breathe.

"I'm not, love. The dagger was poisonous, I can already feel the poison entering my blood. There is nothing you can do" you whispered, managing to cast a small smile.

Hermione was sobbing furiously from the other side of the room, Ron doing the best he could to muffle his sobs as he watched the scene in front of him. His best friend dying.

"Don't say that, you can't die on me. We have our life planned out, you can't leave me" he was crying, his tears falling on your face and clothes.

"You're going to be fine, my love. Be strong for me, live your life, fall in love and have the family you've always dreamed of. Do it for me"

Harry shook his head, not seeing a life where he didn't have you by his side. But when he saw your form, he couldn't help but promise you what you wanted from him.

"I love you, Harry. Always have and always will. Take me back to my parents, tell them I'm sorry and that I love them" just as you spoke the words, the last breath left your lungs, your eyes losing their sparkle and becoming void.

Your body started turning cold as Harry hugged your lifeless body close to his chest and sobbing in your hair.

He vowed he would get revenge for your death and fulfill the promises he made you, even if it would cost him his life.

Your death would not be in vain. He was going to make sure of that.

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[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Widow - Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Summary: Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: “Family Don’t End with Blood,” takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her is what happens when she falls in love again.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F!Reader (past) | Dean Winchester x F!Reader (eventual)

Warnings: grief, angst, funeral, catatonic state

Words: 2,159

A/N: I hope you’ve got some tissues close by, because this is a rough one guys. I’m sorry. Thanks for reading and I hope (despite the heavy angst) you enjoy. I always love hearing people’s thoughts so if you want to share them with me, they’d be most welcome! 💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

When they’d brought you home from the hospital that god-awful day, they’d insisted you rest. “Anything needing done will still be here tomorrow, darlin’” John had told you as you took a seat at the kitchen table.

Dean had busied himself with making a mug of chamomile tea to help calm your nerves and help you sleep a little. You thanked him for it - more from habit than from want of the beverage - and told them they should go home and rest too. It’d be a busy and emotional few weeks ahead, and you knew rest wouldn’t come easy for any of you for some time yet.

After promising them a million times you were fine and you’d call them tomorrow to start planning the funeral, they’d finally left, leaving you alone with your thoughts in a house much quieter than you were used to.

As it happened, you’d stayed in the kitchen chair all night, the mug of tea untouched next to you on the table as you did nothing but stare off into the abyss.

And that’s where Dean finds you when he comes over the next morning.

“Have you been here since we left yesterday?” He frowns, concern evident all over his features. 

You don’t answer but have the decency to look ashamed of the fact you haven’t moved an inch in who knows how long.

“Y/N,” Dean sighs as he sits in the chair next to you and takes your hand. “You need to rest. This isn’t good for you, and Sam wouldn’t want you to make yourself sick.”

At the mention of his name, a fresh wave of grief overcomes you, settling heavily on your chest, and you start sobbing again. Dean is out of the chair and crouched next to you so fast, your brain doesn’t even register the movement.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Dean encourages as he puts his arms around you, pulls you into his chest, and lets you cry it out. His scent goes someway to calming you, being familiar and comforting, but it’s not enough to stem the stream of tears.

When they finally do dry up, and you’re sure there can’t possibly be any left, Dean persuades you to drink some water and lie down on the couch for a while. You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted, and a lie down might do you good.

Dean covers you with the plaid blanket that drapes over the sofa, tucks some loose strands of hair behind your ear, and kisses your forehead. “Try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

You don’t even have the energy to respond, and Dean sighs at your silence before turning and leaving you alone again. You just don’t have it in you to fight it any longer, and as soon as you hear the door lock, you let sleep find you.

You fall into a deep, dreamless sleep until a terrifying sound finds its way into your unconscious mind and shatters the peaceful darkness that surrounds you, jarring you awake.

Knock knock.

Two Weeks Later

The next two weeks go by in a revolving door of police, lawyers, paperwork, and funeral planning. If it hadn’t been for John and Dean checking in on you constantly, you’d have crawled into bed, curled into a ball, and stayed hidden in the safe cocoon of your blankets. 

The man who killed Sam had been three times over the legal limit, and the police assured you he was going away for a long time. You thought hearing that news would’ve made you feel a little better, but it didn’t. No matter how many times he apologises or how long he spends locked up, it’ll never bring your husband back.

Sam had insisted on wills and life insurance policies as soon as you were back from your honeymoon. You remembered laughing at that, never suspecting you’d need that kind of thing any time soon. Sam just smiled patiently at you and told you it was better to have these things in place than to not.

The firm he worked for took care of all the legal documents on your behalf, and all you needed to do was sign them. There were so many papers, your hand was cramping by the time you got to the last one.

John and Dean arranged the funeral, for which you were grateful. You’d been in a state of deep shock and grief since they’d brought you home from the hospital after that godforsaken night and – with your blessing – they organised the entire thing, leaving your only job to pick the date and the casket.

You insisted that you speak at the funeral, even though Dean had told you several times that it wasn’t necessary or expected of you. You knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t. He was a well-liked and greatly respected man, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get up and say something about him.

But now that the day is here, and you’re standing in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom staring at your pale and gaunt reflection, you regret that insistence; you don’t know if you have the emotional strength to stand up in front of everyone and not completely break down.

Smoothing down the elegant, black A-line dress you’re wearing, you release a shaky breath as you try to figure out what you’re going to say.

“Are you ready?” your aunt asks from the doorway. Jody is the only family you have – other than the Winchesters – and she’d been instrumental in making sure the drunk driver got the maximum time possible behind bars.

“No,” you whimper, your bottom lip starting to tremble as you fight back more tears. It’s all you seem to do these days.

“Oh, honey.” Jody steps into your room and pulls you into a hug. “I know this is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do and probably will ever have to do. But this is the toughest part. After today, although it’ll still be hard, you can start healing. Just one more day, Y/N.” she smiles softly and squeezes your hands in comfort. “The car is outside. John and Dean are downstairs waiting for you. Take your time, and come down when you’re ready.” 

Jody places a kiss on your forehead and leaves the room and you find yourself once again, alone with your thoughts. You’ve been surrounded by people since the day Sam died, and yet somehow, you’re always alone. You scoff at your reflection – and your new normal – and shake your head in a bid to hold off more tears.

For the final time, you smooth down your dress and tuck a few escaped strands of hair back into your bun. Taking some deep, calming breaths to centre yourself, you cast one last look in the mirror and steel yourself for the long, hard day ahead. 

“Just one more day, Y/N,” you repeat your aunt’s words. “You can do this. Stay strong for Sam.”

“I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say today. I don’t need to stand up here and tell you what a good man Sam was. You already know that. He was a great man. The best, actually. So, I decided to come up here and tell you something you don’t know.

“Sam and I met in a bar, and if you’ve heard him tell our story, he would’ve told you how he gave me his A game that night, and with a flick of his hair, a flex of his biceps, and a flash of those big hazel eyes, I was a goner. Not true,” you chuckle.

“My story – the true story – is that a freakishly tall guy slid up next to me at the bar and asked if he could buy me a drink. Of course, I said, ‘no.’” you smirked sadly. “He didn’t give up though, and asked me four more times and each time, I turned him down. At the end of the night, he asked me for my number. And guess what? I said no.”

Gentle laughter ripples through the room and makes you smile genuinely for the first time in weeks. “Yeah, I bet he didn’t tell you that part, huh?” You giggle softly. “It worked though because, over the next few days, I couldn’t stop thinking about the freakishly tall guy at the bar with the sweet smile and gorgeous eyes. The only problem was that I didn’t give him my number. I didn’t even know his name, and I beat myself up over it. For days.” you laugh at the memory.

“I’d only just moved to the neighbourhood two days before, and was out exploring when I found this cute little café and decided to go in for a treat. I was checking out the cake selection and this freakishly tall guy with a sweet smile and gorgeous eyes slid right up next to me and asked if he could buy me a coffee. And this time, I said yes.

“We hung out in that coffee shop for hours, talking and getting to know each other. He would always tell people that was our first date. Of course, I disagree. Our first date was a few days later when he took me out to dinner. And that was the night I was a goner.

“When we got married, I never thought ‘until death do us part’ would come so quickly. When we said our vows, I expected ‘forever’ to mean grumpy, old, and grey. And I’m sure he did too. We’d planned adventures and kids and grandkids and porch swings…” you pause and wipe at the tears that had started to fall from your eyes.

“But in one night, everything changed. Adventures turned into anger. Kids into a grief that is so suffocating there are days I don’t want to get out of bed. Grief not only for the man I love being taken from me too soon but also for the family we didn’t get to have. I know that as time goes by, it’ll get easier and the pain will lessen. There’ll be good days again. A time when all I can remember are the great memories we made. But I’ll never stop loving you, Sammy. And I’ll never forget what a great man you were or how lucky I was to call you mine. Even for such a short time.”

As you finish your speech, tears are now flowing thick and fast, and your body starts to tremble. This is what you were trying to avoid. This is why you shouldn’t have stood up here. This is why you should’ve trusted Dean. Because now you’re completely and utterly broken. Now, your body is glued to the spot as wave after wave of despair slams through you.

Dean makes his way to the stand and helps you back to your seat, before returning to the stand himself to say his goodbye. It seems like time speeds up and everything is moving at double pace; except for you. You are slowing down. It’s like one of those nightmares where you’re being chased and your body feels too heavy and you can barely lift your feet, let alone run. Everything starts to blur and snippets of time seem to disappear and you’re only aware of certain moments.

You’re aware of John and Dean holding your hands for the rest of the service, but you can’t remember what was said.

You’re aware of John, Dean, Benny, Castiel, Gabriel and Garth carrying Sam’s coffin, but you don’t remember walking behind them.

You’re aware of Jody holding you up but can’t remember how you came to be standing by the freshly dug grave.

You’re aware of the pungent smell of the soil so overpowering that bile is rising in your throat, but don’t remember seeing your husband be lowered to his final resting place.

You’re aware of Dean holding your hand as you step forward to place the red rose on the wooden casket, but you can’t remember who gave you the flower.

You’re aware of the irony of the sun breaking through the clouds at the very moment you raise your hand to throw the rose on top of the coffin. The sun picking that exact moment to catch on the diamond rings he gave you and making them twinkle obnoxiously.

What you’re not aware of is the journey home or the people who give you their condolences. You’re not aware that you’d been perched on the very edge of the sofa with your back ramrod straight in complete silence, barely even blinking for hours.

You’re not aware that Dean carries you upstairs, or that Jody changes you into pyjamas and climbs into bed with you, holding you tight until you fall asleep.

And you’re definitely not aware that you’ve been asleep for 32 hours straight.

Next Chapter>>

@deans-spinster-witch @muchamusedaboutnothing @kazsrm67 @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @leigh70 @waynes-multiverse @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @chriszgirl92 @stoneyggirl2

#the widow #dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #angst #tw: grief #tw: grieving

[btrflypov]

[♡] “i don’t kiss and tell”

“he’s just so annoying you know? it’s like he wants me one day and the other he acts like i don’t exist” you were rambling for what it seemed hours. repeating the same thing over and over again. “yeah he’s an ass” sandy replied sarcastically, at this point tired of your nonsense. “you know it would be so much better if you just told me who on the team you’re talking about”. truth is nobody knew about you and shohei. not because you didn’t want to but it was decided by him it was best to keep it secret for awhile.

“my guess is mickey!” patrick kept on spitting out names, never once mentioning the one on your mind. it was obvious no one ever expected you, mike trout’s little sister, to be messing around with the best player on the team. mike and shohei shared a very special teammate bond. your so-called “relationship” becoming public would only mean bad talk for them both. “sandy just focus on your pitching, let me do the talking in peace”. it was sunday afternoon, an off day for the halos, and since sandoval was starting tomorrow he asked if you could come and keep him company while he practiced throwing on the bullpen, something he regretted as soon as you opened your mouth to talk about boy drama.

after running your mouth for many more minutes you decided to leave the bullpen, letting sandy have some time to himself, walking through the field heading towards the dugout you decided to check your phone, in hopes that shohei remembered the plans you both made for the night. you were hoping to see a sign from him but you sighed as his name was nowhere to be seen in your recent messages, leaving you with little to no hope for the night. “like i said, he acts like i don’t exist” you whispered to yourself as you walked through the dugout and into the clubhouse.

you heard him before you could even see him. of course shohei was on the stadium on an off day, he just had to be. as you walked inside the locker room, ippei saw you first, “look who it is” he stated and shohei immediately locked his gaze with yours not saying a word. “hey guys what a coincidence, never in a million years would i’ve thought to find you here” the satire in your voice being obvious. “what are you doing here?” he finally got a word out. “i’m with sandy, he’s practicing in the bullpen” you replied coldly not letting his attitude get to you. ippei sensed the tension and decided to get a head start towards the pen, wanting to escape the drama.

“stop acting like that” shohei spoke again. you didn't understand him sometimes. his attitude and your non-helping doubts were getting in your head more than you wished they would lately. “like what? acting like what?” you raised your voice with no change in your tone. you were tired and he knew. “bebe please” his tone dropped becoming softer. you couldn’t resist him, it was impossible, even if you tried. his touch, his smell, his voice, everything was engraved in you. you loved him.

before you could get a word out he started to move closer to you, leaving no space between your bodies. his lips crashed into yours. you melted under his touch and he knew that. as your hands reached for the back of his neck he gripped your hips pulling you impossibly closer. "baby" he whimpered as you softly tugged his messy hair. keeping your lips locked you hummed in response. before your hands reached for his loosed belt and just as things were about to get heated sandy ran into the locker room “hey sho, ippei told me you were here-”. you and shohei instantly pulled away from one another at the sound of his voice, not wanting to give sandoval a show.

patrick found you both blushed and breathless.

“oh yeah hey sandy, see you out there” shohei quickly replied as he walked out of the locker room clearly wanting to avoid any awkward conversation between the three. sandy was left with the biggest smirk on his face watching you closely not even paying attention to shohei or what he said.

“ohtani, huh, it was him all along” sandoval stated between laughs.

“shut up patrick i have no idea what you’re talking about”

“don’t try to fool me, look at you, it looks like you just ran a marathon” his laughs making it harder for him to even sit up straight.

“sandy, i don’t kiss and tell” you said smiling and walking towards the exit door, leaving the man with the most mischievous smile on his face. after today, you knew you and shohei would never hear the end of it. you couldn't care less.

#shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani x reader #mlb imagines

[verlaines-corner-archive]

Death/Muerte sfw alphabet 

 -> Warnings: Muerte typical death mentions, suggestive content, probably ooc and I probably contradict myself at some point. There is slight angst in some of these, though nothing major. There is a singular radiohead reference in this.

 -> Notes: I fucking adore this wolf, so I figured this would be fun to do and it was! This is unedited, I’ll go over it again tomorrow. Also thank you to everyone who sent in requests, I plan to get started on them soon! 5.3k words.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

 -> Muerte is actually rather affectionate! 

 -> He’s not the best at affection at first, purely because he’s never really had to be affectionate. Being the embodiment of death hasn’t presented Muerte with many opportunities to be like so with another, and though he’s been alive long enough to have witnessed his fair share of love between others that’s all it is - love between other people. So he’s a little stuck at first, unsure of how to ask for affection or initiate it, but with enough patience he learns how. A quick learner, too.

 -> Once Muerte has his head properly wrapped around the concept - both the giving and receiving - he’s very sweet with it, and there are two main ways he shows his affection for you, those being physical touch and quality time.

 -> Physical touch is perhaps a little surprising but Muerte is quite fond of it! 

 -> When receiving physical affection Muerte actually really likes being pet. It is definitely his wolf instincts kicking in, but whenever you thread your hands through his fur or scratch behind his ears/rub his belly, he just kind of melts. Tail starts wagging, he gets this real big grin on his face, and in general his mood just lightens. Your touch is fairly comforting to him, in a way he never knew he needed or even wanted.

 -> When giving physical affection Muerte is big on nuzzling as a thing. Rubs his face against yours, or wherever he can really, and it’s often accompanied by little love bites and licks. Speaking of love bites, they're something that happen often and at random. Basically; oversized puppy.

 -> Now in regards to quality time, it’s very important to Muerte. Due to who he is he doesn’t have all too much time with you, so what little there is he wants to make the most of. This is usually done through sharing stories and experiences! 

 -> He has undoubtedly seen a lot, and he’s never really had anyone to share any of it with so it makes his day when you listen to him. He’s quick to find that he likes talking and though he remains a fan of comfortable silences he’ll never complain about conversing.

 -> Similarly he likes listening to what you have to say as well! You could be talking about anything and he would spend hours just listening. Always so invested in it too, giving you his full attention.

 -> Sidenote: his ears are very expressive when both talking and listening.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

 -> A friendship with Muerte is going to be a little tricky to get into, mainly because it’s kind of hard to meet death himself outside of, well, a near death experience. 

 -> Soooo this leaves three main options. You’re either immortal but not an arrogant asshole [so he has a reason to actually want to be your friend], you’re in a near death experience but due to circumstance he doesn’t actually take you, or you meet him in a bar, assuming he visits them outside of hunting down narcissistic animals [which is funny to imagine, can Muerte actually get drunk?].

 -> Now what draws Muerte to someone is hard to say, but I would wager a lack of fear towards him would be a good start. Even though you probably don’t know he’s death when you first meet him he’s still incredibly intimidating, from his stature to his eyes. It’s also in the way he holds himself, like he knows something you don’t, like something bad is going to happen. Seeing him is almost like a bad omen, so when you show little or no fear he is incredibly curious. 

 -> That curiosity leads to him visiting you often, and that leads to friendship. 

 -> Now I think Muerte as a best friend is a little distant but someone you can count on. He’s the kind of friend who you can trust to have your back and - when possible - be there for you but will never really open up to you, even after you’ve spilt your guts to him.

 -> He’s charming, laid back and calm, yet confident in a subtle way, and once you get past his unnerving demeanour he’s very easy to get along with. But despite that he doesn’t reveal much about himself, keeping things close to his chest and seldom does he express much outside of annoyance or joy. Things such as sadness [which for him often materialises as a heavy melancholy] aren’t often seen and whenever you do see them he’s quick to leave.

 -> I think the main thing keeping him back from getting close to you in a friendship is the nature of who he is. Muerte is a little worried about getting close to you, creating a genuine emotional bond and then telling you who he is, only for you to leave in fear and for the connection to break. 

 -> It’s only after he’s told you that he’s death and you still accept him does he get closer as a friend and subsequently start falling in love with you. 

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

 -> Ohhhh Muerte loves cuddling! 

 -> Now I can’t really elaborate on the why of it, it just seems like something he’d enjoy. Maybe it’s the fact that he can hold and touch another without receiving fear or hate - that he can do it without having to guide another soul to rest, or maybe it’s the fact that you just fit so nicely in his arms, it’s hard to say. 

 -> If you were to ask Muerte why he likes cuddling he’d probably make some quip about how it’s because you’re “so small and cute” [even if you’re neither of those things], so why wouldn’t he like holding you? 

 -> The comment itself is a little unsettling, making you feel like he’s sizing you up to devour you or something, but don’t worry about it. You are incredibly safe in his arms and he’s really just taking the opportunity to tease you.

 -> In regards to the cuddling position I think Muerte is a fan of spooning! It’s definitely the easiest for you both considering his size, though he likes when you face him during it. A part of this is because a lot of conversations happen during cuddling and Muerte finds them most enjoyable face to face, where he can watch your expressions and reactions to things. Facing him also means you’re able to give him affection easier, not that he’d ever ask for that, of course. 

 -> I think Muerte also doesn’t mind being the little spoon, though it’s really just him burying his face in your chest/stomach and letting you hold him like that. His tail is definitely wagging, though if you bring it up he’ll give you a little warning bite and half hearted growl.

 -> Big spoon or little spoon doesn’t matter though, Muerte will croon for you.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

 -> Muerte cannot settle down with you. Due to his job as death he is unable to, because it is so constant and though he can seemingly teleport it can lead to him being gone for days, or weeks, or on the rare occasions even months. It’s not that he doesn't want to, but there is no real opportunity to.

 -> While Muerte cannot settle down he can leave bits of himself around your house and as a result it’s going to feel lived in by him. Spare ponchos hang in your warbroad, desks and shelves are littered with old books and scrolls, weapons are displayed along your walls, and your old storeroom has been turned into a makeshift workshop of sorts. Not to mention all the things he brings home for you specifically, ranging from flowers to letters to small knick knacks and trinkets. To everyone else your house is bound to feel uneasy, carrying a cold stale air to it, but to you it’s a sign that your lover cares enough to always return. 

 -> Which is all it is really; somewhere he returns to. Your home could never be Muerte’s, not really, but it can be his sanctuary and for as long as you let him he will always find his way back to it.

 -> Now in regards to cooking and cleaning, I’d say Muerte is okay at it? Nothing special, but also nothing atrocious either. I think the main problem is that he just kind of never has to do either. If he eats it’s not because he needs to, and he’s never really stuck around a place long enough to need to keep it clean, at least not consistently.

 -> With that being said however, now he has a reason to do both! Now once again he can’t do either consistently due to his job, but when he’s actually there he’ll help out while he can. Or not, I won’t pretend to know. I’m sorry, but picturing him in front of a stove is fucking hilarious. Imagine that absolute monster of a wolf holding a broom.

 -> Though, one thing I can say for certain is that Muerte enjoys bathing with you!

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

 -> He wouldn’t <3

 -> No but genuinely, Muerte is not going to break up with you. From my understanding wolves tend to mate for life and even beyond that I don’t see him as the type to fall out of love.

 -> Getting Muerte to fall in love with you is near impossible, but once he has the feelings just never go away. Especially in your lifetime. Assuming you’re not immortal, your lifespan is so miniscule compared to his own that it’s not even nearly long enough for him to even consider losing such feelings for you.

 -> Now if, for whatever reason, Muerte does break up with you I think he’s polite about it. He finds no joy in seeing you cry at all, but his comfort is also very formal and impersonal. Though he respects you he doesn’t care for you anymore and during a breakup Muerte is very matter of fact, straight to the point, and refuses to sugar coat any of it.

 -> It’s simple, he’s sorry but he doesn’t love you anymore. Does he wish you well? Certainly, and he hopes there’s no bad blood between the two of you when you inevitably meet again.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

 -> Muerte is a very committed lover, he doesn’t get into a relationship if he doesn’t plan for it to last. 

 -> With that being said though I don’t see marriage as being something important to Muerte. He kind of understands the appeal, but to him it’s idiotic. A ring and piece of paper should have no say over your relationship with him. 

 -> I do think Muerte would get you something to signify your bond with him though. It’d be a piece of jewellery - possibly a broach, something easy to keep on your person, and though it’s no real proposal or church it carries the same weight to it. A confession of his love for you, a promise to remain by your side for as long as you’ll let him.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

 -> Is gentleness natural to Muerte? I think this is both a yes and no.

 -> Muerte is death itself, and this is something that can be both gentle and harsh. To some it is solace, it is peaceful and calm, while to others it’s harsh and cruel, unjustified.

 -> What we see with Puss is completely natural; Muerte enjoys a chase, he enjoys fear and borders on being sadistic. But it would also be just as in character to say that Muerte is gentle with souls undeserving of their fate, that he would comfort wounded animals as they die and let kids pet his fur so they’re no longer scared.

 -> Now I know that this question is in regards to him with a lover, but I do think it’s worth going over that he is very much both naturally depending on what’s needed. Neither is a facade or fake.

 -> So, to get to what we’re actually here for yeah, Muerte is a fairly gentle lover! You have given him no reason to be otherwise, and though he enjoys some fear [even from you] it’s in no way malicious. His fear comes as a warning to appreciate what you have, and any other moments of roughness are all rare. 

 -> I think Muerte has an easier time being gentle emotionally as opposed to physically, mainly because I believe him to be someone incredibly in tune with his own emotions. I think his natural disposition is a lot calmer than what we see with Puss and he’s most likely a very wise individual. Due to this it won’t be long before he’s in tune with your emotions as well and it leads to a fairly gentle and calm dynamic. Like “old married lovers” kind of gentle.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

 -> Muerte definitely likes hugs, but I think there are just other forms of affection he prefers over them. 

 -> The main thing Muerte likes about hugs is how protective they are. He completely smothers you in his arms and it always leads to him feeling like he’s keeping you safe. But even that isn’t unique to just hugging and he often feels that way during cuddling. So it leads to hugs, while being something pleasant, not being something that’s done all too often.

 -> Muere mainly reserves them for when he’s greeting you, especially if he’s been gone for a while. In those cases they’re are tight, secure, and can last for a minute or so, though that depends on how long he was gone for.

 -> There is one problem with Muerte’s hugs though, that being that he tends to lean into you and subsequently put his weight on you. Make sure you have good footing before hugging him, just for your own sake.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

 -> Hmmm, hard to say. Not too quickly, but he certainly knows he loves you when he gets with you. 

 -> I think Muerte might be a little hesitant to say he loves you in all honesty, mainly because it’s so surprising to him that he actually feels this way. I don’t think he ever considered himself capable of love. Sure, he knows he’s not incapable of things such as sympathy or affection for another, but actual love - romantic love? That’s a whole different ball game.

 -> Muerte has a very theoretical understanding of love. He knows why people feel it, he knows the importance of it - the importance of why he should tell you how he feels - but when it comes to the actual doing and feeling he’s lost.

 -> And that leads to him feeling small, in a very weird way. This is outside of his knowledge, outside of his comfort zone, and it leads to fear. Fear of admitting that he cares, fear of losing you, fear of making a fool of himself. Muerte is prideful, and though that’s not something that gets in the way of your relationship all too often, when it first comes to an admittance of love it leaves him frozen.

 -> Muerte will bite the bullet and say it though, and all things considered fairly quickly too. Say, maybe three/four months into the relationship. It’s a little awkward on his part, but he still looks you in the eyes and says it with his full chest. There’s no doubt in his mind that this is what he feels for you.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

 -> Not at all! Muerte holds you with full respect and never once doubts your loyalty to him. If you gave him reason to doubt it he wouldn’t stick around.

 -> While Muerte is indeed somewhat possessive he knows you’re his, and that he’s yours too, so that never leads to jealousy. If you like the whole jealous lover schtick he can certainly play it for you, but it’s just not something natural to him. 

 -> On the very rare occasion that Muerte gets jealous he gets quiet. He’s already an observer but it increases tenfold here, eyes like daggers as he watches whoever is stealing both your attention and time. Muerte has enough sense and control to never get angry at you when jealous, but he does get more possessive, pulling you into his side and once you both get home he’s not letting you out of his arms for the rest of the night. Make with that what you will.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

 -> Muerte’s kisses, much like everyone else's, vary. In general they’re gentle yet passionate and are often drawn out. He tends to like taking his time kissing you, and they only ever become rushed and aggressive if things are getting heated or he hasn't seen you for a while.

 -> Even make outs with Muerte tend to be somewhat gentle, but this is partially because kissing him is a little difficult, especially if you’re human. He has lips and he can kiss you, but anything heated can be a little tricky to do with that mouth of his. Honestly his kisses are more tongue and fang at times.

 -> Now Muerte doesn’t really have a favourite place to kiss you, but if he had to choose he’d say your neck! This is heavily trust based, but he also likes the fact that he’s able to feel your pulse under his lips. 

 -> In regards to receiving kisses, please kiss his nose. He’ll accept them anywhere, but his nose and forehead are weak spots for him. Always results in a little happy growl of sorts.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

 -> Oof, he likes kids but kids do not like him.

 -> I think children give Muerte a sense of peace. They are good, for the most part kind, and though they don’t really understand the world they tend to appreciate what they have. I think he finds their wonder in the world to just be very refreshing, if that makes sense.

 -> Kids don’t like him for obvious reasons, those being his general demeanour and appearance. Though, there are always a few that approach him. Mainly with the intent to pet him, or in some cases tell him that he “looks cool” [or very bluntly tell him that he’s scary, which always makes him laugh a little]. 

 -> Now despite his fondness for kids Muerte doesn’t want any. He’s already placing his heart on the line by being with you and he knows that he’ll have to take you some day. But outliving his own kids, having to bury them? No, no. He won’t do it. Muerte understands that it may be selfish of him to so adamantly refuse the idea, but it’s a weight he would much rather be without.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

 -> Assuming you wake up with him and he doesn’t have anywhere to be, mornings with Muerte can be rather lazy. If he doesn’t have to get up and leave the warmth of your bed he simply will not, unless you were to blackmail him out with food or something of that ilk. Which isn’t guaranteed to work mind you, and that’s assuming he lets you get out of his arms in the first place.

 -> Which he won’t. Mornings with him are cuddly, in the sense that you are trapped and cannot escape. Seriously, unless you’re a fucking powerhouse or incredibly small you are not worming out of his embrace. So sorry </3

 -> Hehe morning sex hehe

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

 -> Nights with Muerte are bound to be very calm. He tends to spend a lot of them out working, but when he has free time Muerte likes to take you places! Usually places with a nice view and that are away from people, though sometimes he likes to just sit in the corner of a pub with you and watch everyone go about their night.

 -> Muerte is also a big fan of nights spent at home with you, simply coexisting. With him caring for his weapons as you get ready for bed or so on, they’re awfully domestic.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

 -> Not slow, but not fast either. I think Muerte doesn’t go out of his way to reveal things unless they’re of importance, instead everything is revealed naturally through conversations. 

 -> The way he opens up is very calm in a sense, there’s never any spotlight placed on what he’s saying. It feels natural, it flows, and the mood never really changes. I think it’s comforting in a way, the casualness of it all highlighting just how much trust he has in you.

 -> There will always be an air of mystery to him though. He is only truly knowable through death after all, so when you die it’s like the last piece of a jigsaw falling into place.

 -> In regards to you opening up, Muerte is patient. There is no rush and he understands that some things are just hard to talk about. 

 -> There is also no judgement either, not with him. Muerte has seen just about everything there is to see, has witnessed the absolute worst of humanity. You are safe here, the scars on your hands will never drive him away.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

 -> Hmm, this is hard. He’s not easily angered, especially by you, but there are some things that get to him.

 -> In general I think Muerte is very patient. Even with someone like Puss, it took eight lives for Muerte to finally snap and go after him, and that’s after heavy disrespect and wastefulness. He is easily annoyed, but getting actual anger [especially anger he’ll act on] is hard.

 -> With you, whether as friend or lover, Muerte is simultaneously very patient and very easy to anger. 

 -> In general, once again, he’s patient. You’re in no rush to open up, arguments with Muerte are fairly rare as he prefers negotiating and actually discussing things, and he has an incredible understanding of humans, along with being very in tune with your emotions. Calm, with the patience of a saint.

 -> Unless you act recklessly that is. Unlike with Puss, Muerte cares about you and so every time you do something idiotic or place your life on the line [intentionally or not] he grows angry. It is anger built from worry and results in him scolding you. He grips your shoulders, bares his teeth, growls, anything that will make you realise that death is still something to be feared, something that should not be so recklessly rushed towards.

 -> Is Muerte easy to calm down? Depends on what exactly angered him, but for the most part he needs a little bit of time to himself. Not just to calm down, but to fully gather his thoughts - especially in the case of you being the source. Afterwards he just wants to hold you. Like I said before, your embrace is comforting to him.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

 -> Remembers everything.

 -> Muerte has an exceptional memory, so everything you tell him - whether in depth or in passing - will be kept tucked away in his mind. Honestly you don’t even have to tell him, his eye for detail is insane. He can read you off body language and expression alone.

 -> He’s the type of lover to know your order off by heart, the type that makes you feel seen and understood, to the point where it’s almost terrifying. The little details matter, and Muerte’s love lies in them.

 -> What makes it more heartwarming is that it’s not all natural either. Sure, his memory is fucking amazing, but he only knows you so well because he puts in the effort to listen and remember. 

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

 -> Muerte has two responses to you asking this. The first is saying that he doesn’t have a favourite memory, because how could he possibly choose just one? And the second one is pretending that his favourite moment is something that is probably very embarrassing for you, like the time he saw you trip over your own feet or that one time he popped up beside you and you screamed so loud the neighbours were worried [yes he did laugh, broke out in a sort of giggle fit actually </3].

 -> In actuality his favourite memory is when he told you he was death itself. While that might seem like a weird one to favour it meant a lot to him, and still does. 

Muerte had very much gone into that confession expecting hate, for any fondness you had of him to vanish, and for the most part your initial reaction had been what he had expected: fear. The stench of anxiety had come off you in waves as you tried to process what he had said, because what could death want with you if not to collect your soul?

There had been a minute of painful silence, and it was only after the rational part of your brain had convinced you that if Muerte wanted you dead it would have happened already that you had spoken. 

Your voice, while slightly shaky, had been gentle, telling Muerte that despite who he was you still trusted him and hoped that your friendship would remain the same. You had accepted him, overcome your fear to be with him, so it’s no surprise that he holds that night so dearly in his memories. 

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

 -> Muerte is extremely protective when there’s an actual threat to your safety, whether caused by someone else or yourself [like I said in P].

 -> Muerte has no qualms in killing someone for your safety, and honestly depending on how badly you were hurt/they planned to hurt you he’s liable to just going fucking wild. We all know that he enjoys the hunt and that he has a sadistic streak, so there’s a fair chance he’ll give them a similar treatment to what he did Puss, except this time there will be no mercy at the end.

If you weren’t hurt too bad he’ll just scare them away and [probably] out of town.

 -> Outside of threats though Muerte is pretty lax, he has an incredible trust and respect in your abilities. The most he ever really does outside of danger is check over you when he gets home, and that’s only after he’s been gone for a while.

 -> Now in regards to protecting him, well, you really don’t have to worry about that. He’s a force of nature, unkillable, and seldom ever gets hit, let alone hit hard enough to draw blood. And there’s also no way you’re scarier than him, so there’s really not much you can do. 

 -> Though Muerte does think that any and all attempts at protection on your part are incredibly endearing. Likes the idea that you want to keep him safe.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

 -> Muerte is a romantic in his own way, so there’s always effort put into everything.

 -> In regards to dates and even anniversaries I think it’s a very subtle effort. You can notice it and certainly appreciate it but it’s not in your face. It’ll never be anything that will drop your jaw, never anything extravagant. Once again, it’s all in the finer details. 

 -> Dates in general tend to be quiet and are never really traditionally romantic. He’s not a fan of candle lit dinners or parties, rowboats aren’t his thing, and even picnics are a hit or miss for him. The best way to describe dates are as domestic, he prefers a more homely setting.

 -> As for gifts Muerte doesn’t like buying you things. He views bought gifts as somewhat lazy and lacking any real meaning, so everything he gives you tends to be handmade, or in the case that it is something store bought it’s very small and is less to impress and more because it made him think of you.

 -> One of the most notable gifts he’s given you is an old journal, filled with sketches and poetry. Now this may feel cheesily ooc, but when he’s out a lot of things end up making him think of you, from flowers [some of which end up dried and pressed], to scenery, to passages from books he finds in the houses of those recently deceased. So he writes them all down, or in the case of scenery sketches them down. 

 -> It’s sentimental and even Muerte will admit that it’s sappy, but he has several of them. All filled with things you would have liked but weren’t there to see.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

 -> Okay here’s a funny one, Muerte eats animals. Muerte doesn’t really like human food you see, he can eat it fine but just isn’t the biggest fan of most of it. So the times where he does want to eat he goes out and hunts animals. That itself is perfectly fine, but here’s the problem: he brings the bloody carcass into your house and just. eats it on the floor like a dog.

 -> And it’s gross. It stinks and there’s blood and fat everywhere and sometimes afterwards he wants to give you a kiss or licks your face and his breath smells and there’s blood and augh. The only upside is that beforehand he cuts you off a leg of whatever it is he’s killed so you have food to put away [a massive bonus during winter], and he always picks the game completely clean, leaving only bones that he’s quick to dispose of. But yeah it’s just not pleasant. 

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

 -> Not very for the most part!

 -> Muerte, much like everyone, wants to look presentable, and with all that fur he has to put in extra work to make sure it looks and feels nice. 

 -> I do think he is vain in the sense that he likes looking his best even if he doesn’t have to, but he never puts in so much effort that it feels narcissistic or egotistical. More than anything Muerte just loves receiving compliments about his appearance from you. 

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

 -> Kind of?

 -> I don’t mean this in a heartless or cold way but Muerte doesn’t need you. He certainly wants you, but he has lived centuries without anyone. He is a person by himself, as much as death is capable of being its own being. You don’t make him complete, but rather allow him a way to be his true self, to show a tenderness usually [though not always] hidden.

 -> However Muerte would feel very lonely without you. His feelings for you will never really go away and though he certainly comes to peace with your leaving he will always carry a bit of you with him. Even after Muerte has lived another 30 lives of men he will still find something that makes him think of you, if only for a moment. A sort of nostalgia that never goes away.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

 -> I actually have two! 

 -> The first being that Muerte knows how to sew and often patches up his own poncho or any other articles of clothing he has. He doesn’t particularly like sewing, but when he has to or is simply bored he’s surprisingly good at it!

 -> The second one is that Muerte likes gardening. His appreciation for life is immense and on more than one occasion has led to him planting a few seeds and, when possible, tending to them. Muerte mainly plants trees and flowers and is almost embarrassingly happy when they start sprouting.

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

 -> There are two main things that Muerte detests in people: a lack of appreciation for life and cruelty. 

 -> The former is very self explanatory. Muerte, more than anyone, knows the value of a life, how precious such a thing is, and so when people treat such a thing as worthless or disregard it entirely it makes his blood boil.

 -> The latter ties in with the former too. Having witnessed countless tragedy after tragedy Muerte is very much aware of how horrid life can be, how painful and unjust it is. So when people actively harm and step on others he - much like before - grows angry, because has there not been enough cruelty already?

»»—— • ☆ • ——««

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

 -> Muerte doesn’t really need to sleep. It’s not essential for him at all and though he can grow fatigued he only really sleeps to keep his mind sharp, and that’s only after months of being awake.

 -> Now despite the fact that Muerte doesn’t need to he certainly loves sleeping beside you. Sleeping is a way to kill time for him, and so if he can do that while being warm, comfortable, and with you? Sign him up. But as stated in M please do not expect him to let you get up easily, he absolutely will not.

 -> As for habits he doesn’t really have many. The main ones are that he holds things in his sleep and oftentimes curls in on himself during it, and if he’s extremely comfortable he may croon as well.

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