#show them how much you appreciate it and them

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me." 

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?" 

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc cute #charles leclerc x yn #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic

[talaok]

Enjoy the view

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You surprise your husband with a new cooking attire, and he's more than happy to show you how much he appreciates it- even if he has an audience… especially when he knows how much you like it.

Warnings: smut| exhibitionism, voyeurism, cooking practically naked, a lil tiny bit of free use, oral sex (f receiving), butt-play, and unprotected p in v sex.

"I'm home!" 

His greeting echoed through the house, and while usually it would be followed by your two little demons running down the stairs to attack their daddy, today, the only response was yours.

"Hi baby, I'm in the kitchen!" 

You heard some shuffling as he made himself comfortable before his footsteps started in your direction- only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

"Babydoll, where are the k-"

You turned around just a little bit, your neck twisting so your gaze could see his face as it settled on your ass.

On your bare ass and bare legs and bare torso and- oh god- on the small apron only covering the lower front of you.

What the actual fuck was his life

And how the actual fuck did he ever get so lucky

He was on you in a split second, his mouth as ravenous as his hands.

You let a soft giggle past your lips as he left hot, wet kisses down your neck, his hands kneading the soft skin of your ass as he pressed his hard cock against it.

"the kids are at my mom's" you murmured, as if the man behind you wasn't worshipping your body

"yeah?" he groaned, his hands on your boobs now

"I'm making us dinner" you explained, resuming cutting the fruit on the cutting board while sticking your ass out even more for him.

"such a good girl, thank you darlin'" he murmured against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"Can I have my appetizer while you finish up?"

You pretend to ponder the idea, biting your lip 

"Tommy's still outside trying to fix the grill, baby"

Of course

Lucky didn't even begin to cover it.

He could just close the curtains facing your backyard, he knew it, just as you did.

But that's not what you wanted

Oh no

His girl liked to be watched

"then we'll just have to hope he doesn't fix it in time, won't we?"

He watched your eyes flutter shut as the words sunk in, and you could only offer a soft "yes" as you presented him the slightest nod

"attagirl" he murmured, kissing you right below your ear "Now don't mind me, keep on cookin'"

You nodded again, humming softly, and he kissed every inch of skin he encountered as he dropped to his knees.

Cold air hit your core as he grabbed each of your asscheeks in his hands and spread them apart like the animal that he was.

You let out a little whine as he admired the work of art before him, but just when you started cutting the fruit before you once again, he'd dived in.

His whole face was deep into your core, his tongue not wasting a second before tasting your sweet juices, wishing he could drink them every day instead of water.

His hands were gripping your waist, holding you in place, even as your body begged to grind against him.

"fuck" you moaned, biting your lips as your left hand gripped the counter.

"tastes like heaven babydoll" Joel groaned, the vibrations of his voice sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

You could only continue emanating needy little whimpers as he feasted on your cunt, and then, finding more strength in you than you even knew to even possess, you resumed cutting the strawberry before you.

"Joel" you moaned louder now, his tongue plunging into your pussy and lapping at your walls as your head fell to your chest "baby-god"

And just when you were breathing heavily, feeling your core flutter at the pleasure, his mouth trailed up, his focus shifting to your other hole.

The knife fell to the cutting board and your body slumped forward at the feeling, but while your moans were only getting louder, he was only getting hungrier.

And as much as he loved eating your ass, he needed to hear those pretty sounds you made while coming on his face, so of course...

Your whole body felt a shock of electricity as Joel finally, finally, started sucking on your clit.

"Fuck-fuck- baby- just like tha-oh!"

You came so hard you thought you were gonna pass out, but luckily, he was there to hold you through it, not wasting a drop of what you gave him.

"my perfect fukin' girl" he murmured lovingly, kissing your cunt one last, overstimulating time before he was once again standing pressed against your back.

"enjoyed yourself?" he asked, biting your earlobe as you tried to will your breathing to get back to normal

"yes" you smiled, forgetting all about your task as you turned around towards him, clatching his lips into a deep, searing kiss.

"yeah?" he asked again, a smug, sexy grin on him as he let you taste yourself on his tongue once again 

"mh-mh"

"I think someone else did too" 

And when his gaze shifted to his left, you knew.

You didn't need to look to know what he was looking at, but you did nonetheless.

Tommy was standing on the other side of the glass door, his eyes set onto you like a starving predator, and you could only gasp.

"Joel-"

"shh" he hummed, kissing the side of your lips "It's ok," he said, while your eyes remained on his brother "You wanna give Tommy a show babydoll?"

But of course, he knew the answer already,

you've done this before,

hell, before Tommy had gotten himself a wife too, you'd even let him join once or twice.

"I mean..." you whimpered, as Joel undid his zipper while kissing your neck "He's fixed the grill for us after all"

He chuckled, finishing your thought for you

"he deserves a reward, doesn't he?"

"I think he does" You nodded, looking up at him with pleading eyes, as if there was a chance he'd ever not do something you wanted.

"You're so kind" he murmured, picking you up just to set you on a free spot on the counter "Such a perfect selfless wife that I've got, mh?"

You could only grin, giggling softly as he kissed you again.

"let's show Tommy how beautiful you look while coming on my cock then shall we?"

"yes please"

Your answer was breathless, desperate, just as the moan you let out once he finally guided his length inside of you, taking his time to let you adjust...and so he could enjoy the faces you made all for him... and his brother.

"good girl" he groaned, easing himself out of you almost completely just to thrust back in at full force, making you cry out and throw your head back.

"Oh f-fuck"

"I know" he cooed, only going faster, deeper, as you arched your back, your nails clawing at his back "I know baby, you take me so well" he murmured, against your mouth "So deep inside this perfect fucking pussy"

"Joel!" you gasped, his dick hitting your sweet spot over and over together with his dirty words.

And when you glanced to your right, when you saw Joel's brother, the sibling to the man who was currently railing you on your kitchen counter palming his hard cock from the confines of his jeans, his eyes glued on you... it was like a volcano of pleasure exploded,

a dirty, twisted, dark kind of pleasure

"yeah look at Tommy" Joel groaned "Poor guy's probably so jealous he's not the one balls deep into ya baby" One of his hands moved from your waist to pinch your nipple, making you cry out just to prove a point "he's probably wishin' he could come here and fuck you himself baby" he continued, his thrusts getting harsher, faster "but he's not gonna" he growled "and ya know why?" he asked,

"'cause I'm yours" you moaned, looking him into his lusty eyes

He moaned too this time, he never could help himself when you said those three magic words

'cause fuck him, but he still sometimes struggled to believe you were his himself

"goodamn right you are" he smirked, crashing your lips with his, as the room filled with the filthy sound of your wet heat accommodating his movements.

"Show him sugar" he urged "Show Tommy who you belong to" he murmured, watching as you turned your head to his brother again

"show him who's the only man who's ever gonna touch you baby girl," he said "and how fuckin' good you look creamin' my cock"

And so you did what he said, you looked his brother right in the eyes as you screamed Joel's name at the top of your lungs, wave after wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you as you came hard around Joel's cock.

"Fuckin' perfect-" Joel purred, kissing your chin as his orgasm approached "fuckin' mine"

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller blurb #joel miller angst #fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader

[mariasont]

you should do more aaron hotchner x reader but they get drunk together and they just have a make out session or something 🤫🤫

Strawberry Wine - A.H

a/n: i took this the bimbo reader route because i'm slightly obsessed with them lately so i hope you don't mind <3

thank you so much for requesting xoxo

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: hotch is a lot more flirty when he's got some alcohol in him

warnings: kind of suggestive?, flirty hotch, making out, mutual pining

wc: 0.9k

You were vaguely aware of the dizzy sensation taking hold, your steps a little unsteady, cheeks a little more flushed. Penelope's voice, usually so clear, now sound like she was yelling from afar, her excitement over a new cooking show barely registering with you. It all faded into the background as your focus narrowed on one person alone--your boss.

Concentrating on something else was the logical choice, but logic seemed to falter in the face of such distraction. I mean, you had eyes after all.

He looked exceptionally good tonight. Jeans. He was wearing jeans and a zip up. His casual look held an irresistibility about it that you rarely got to appreciate, and now it's all you can dwell on. You could easily blame your preoccupation on a few drinks, but in all honesty, you'd be just as enthralled sober.

Your name was floating through the air, and as you turned, you saw Morgan. His grin was wide, the kind that told you he'd been trying to catch your attention for longer than you'd realized.

His eyebrows lifted, bumping against you with a shoulder as he waggled those same eyebrows. So childish. You knew what he was referring to. He was the first one to catch on to your little crush, but despite his behavior you knew he'd never divulge your secret. 

You nudged him back, not realizing your own strength until you were almost toppling over. You only found your footing when you felt hands on your waist. You leaned back, assuming it was Morgan. You were wrong. 

"You okay?" His voice was soft and low, a soothing sound that tempted you to both lean into him and step back in a fluster.

You glanced around, only to realize that Morgan had disappeared, leaving you with Hotch. You clamped your lips together, fighting the urge to let a stupid smile spread across your face, but the wine's influence made it challenging.

"Yes."

The room spun just a tad more as you tried to focus on Hotch, his usually sharp gaze softened just a bit more tonight. 

He chuckled--a rare, perfect sound that made you tingly all over--and leaned closer. "The wine seems to be doing its job. How many glasses in are we?"

You giggled, but the sound was more like a hiccup. "I should be asking you that," you said with a lopsided smile. "But then again, I guess I mean glasses of scotch, right? You seem like a scotch over wine kind of guy."

"Do I?" His voice was rich and warm. He stepped forward, his eyes briefly flickering to where the rest of the team congregated in Rossi's kitchen. However, they seemed miles away. "You smell good."

His compliment threw you off guard, you blinked, cheeks heating up as you swayed slightly towards him, voice a bubbly stream of words you couldn't control. "You think so? It's actually this new perfume--I got it on sale, can you believe it? And the bottle is just the cutest thing, all pink and pretty."

"I bet." He was smirking. Smirking. You were pretty sure you had stumbled into an alternate reality where Hotch was not just your boss, but someone who was relaxed, almost flirtatious? 

"Here," you said, pointing to the middle of your chest. You were a little breathless, "this is where I spray it."

He gave a low hum, almost inaudible, stepping in until you were toe to toe. You caught the hint of scotch on his breath--just as you had suspected--and it made the room spin a little more. 

His face moved down toward your chest, and you couldn't hardly believe that he couldn't hear your heart pounding against your ribs. 

You inhaled sharply, the valley of your breasts rising to graze against his nose, so lightly that it might have gone unnoticed if not for your intense focus on him. 

"What do you think--?" you started to ask, but as he raised his head, your noses were nearly touching, and the rest of your sentence dissolved.

The realization of how easy it would be to kiss him struck you, tempting and terrifying all at one, and you hesitated, knowing that was one line you shouldn't cross.

But you didn't need to cross it because he obliterated the line with a kiss that thundered against your lips before you could even blink. A smile bloomed against his mouth, and you returned it full force.

It was as if you were tingly from head to toe, like fireworks were exploding all around you, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as if the space between you could vanish entirely. You felt his broad hands sweep and down your spine, your tongues vying for dominance, the rich, smoky taste of that scotch lingering in your mouth, as if you were absorbing its essence through every five senses.

It was as if you were back in high school, making out under the bleachers, hiding from the rest of your classmates. You didn't want it to end, but reality intruded like a dream dispelled.

The click of a camera snapped you back to the present, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, hands on the damning evidence.

Gathered at the window there the team was, Garcia's fingers curled around her phone, its lens aimed squarely at you. Your surprised came out as a high-pitched squeal mingled with their distance laughter and cheers. You pressed your face into the fabric of Hotch's zip up, silently pleading for the earth to open up and swallow you whole.

"Next time, we'll opt for the bathroom. Less room for an audience."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bimbo reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x bimbo!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

[stylesispunk]

'I've been praying, I never did before'

Not outbreak! Joel Miller x f! Reader

summary: you prayed to God to send you the answers. Should you stay with Joel or leave him?

w.c: 5k> warnings: angst and cheating.

a/n: this one is based on this ask a lovely anon (🍫) sent the other day. (thanks for your support, I hope I made it justice) and I hope you all like it. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

You weren't a religious person.

You believed in God, but your devotion didn't go beyond the necklace's cross and your eloquent prayers asking for the protection of your loved ones.

You weren't a religious person, but you thought God sent Joel to you that night at the bar when a wasted man thought he had some power over you just because you wore a short dress. Everyone should have seen his face the night he first got you.

And you thought God rewrote the prophecy of your failed luck in love.

Joel, the sweetheart. Joel, the loving, thoughtful, and faithful.

Joel Miller, your boyfriend of six years.

Not rings, not clues of him saying you loved beyond the whispers in your ear when he had his arm wrapped around your waist in public, showing you off to hide you from the rest of the world once the lights weren’t on you.

The first signs of your love rusting into scarlet maroon.

At first, you brushed them off, attributing the occasional cold shoulders or the missing date nights to stress, life’s inevitable distractions, or nights of hard work. But deep down, you felt the shift. The whispers of doubt crept in, subtle yet persistent, like the gradual erosion of a once impenetrable fortress.

All the vipers are moaning in mourning for you and your poor wounded heart, already cracking due to the daggers thrown at you in poisoned words.

Joel made you feel invincible, loved, and worthy of something as warm as the golden dawn. However, his eyes, once brimming with affection, now flickered with a hint of something words couldn’t speak. His somber eyes matched the gray clouds before the storm on a cloudy day, with no defense or barbed wire to keep you warm. You tried to bridge the growing chasm with gestures of love and attempts at rekindling the spark, but it felt like grasping at smoke.

The nights grew longer, and the silences became more pronounced. You found yourself reminiscing about the early days, the nights spent talking until dawn, the effortless laughter, and the shared dreams you were supposed to build. Those memories felt like a lifeline, a reminder of what once was and what you desperately wanted to reclaim as yours.

Yet, the more you clung to the past, the more it slipped through your fingers. Joel's once warm embraces became mechanical, his kisses lacking the fervor they once held. No more lips attached to your forehead for protection. The blaze on your sheets, once fueled by the fire of your touches, has now become a simple ritual, devoid of connection.

You began to wonder if you had misread the signs, if perhaps you had mistaken God's intervention for a fleeting moment of serendipity. The love that had once felt like destiny now seemed like a chapter nearing its end. The vibrant hues of your relationship had faded, leaving behind a tapestry woven with threads of doubt and broken promises.

In the quiet moments of solitude, when you waited by the door, hoping for Joel to step into the house, you wondered how the red roses he brought grew back as thorns, hurting your fingers as much as when you touched his skin. Would you be able to build a fort after this storm?

"Dad isn’t here yet?" Sarah interrupted your thoughts from the stairs, her wide eyes gazing into yours with the same worry drawn on them.

"No, sweetheart, not yet," you replied, trying to mask your own anxiety with a reassuring smile.

Sarah descended the stairs slowly, her small frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the hallway. She reached your side and leaned against you, her presence a small comfort in the growing uncertainty.

"Did he say he would be late?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

You shook your head. "He didn't say anything, Sarah. Maybe he's just caught up at work."

But you both knew it was more than that. The nights he came home late were becoming more frequent; the excuses were absurd. The distance between you and Joel was no longer just emotional; it was physical, an ever-widening gap that neither of you seemed able to bridge.

"We'll wait a little longer," you said, wrapping an arm around Sarah's shoulders. "He'll be home soon."

Together, you stood in the hallway, the silence stretching out, heavy and oppressive. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a reminder of the uncertainty that now defined your lives.

Sarah was thirteen; she wasn’t naïve when it came to your somber eyes growing gray with each passing day. How do your luminous smiles become a sad smirk just for the sake of pretending?

And as you waited, you couldn't help but wonder if the prophecy of your failed luck in love had been rewritten after all, not by God but by the slow, inevitable decay of a love that once seemed eternal.

The memory flooded back, a vibrant contrast to the present. It was a crisp autumn afternoon, the air filled with the scent of fallen leaves. You and Joel had decided to escape the city for a day, driving out to the countryside without any particular destination in mind.

“Where are we going?” you had asked, laughter in your voice as the wind whipped through the open car windows.

“Somewhere beautiful,” Joel replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You ended up at a secluded lake, its surface like glass reflecting the fiery colors of the trees surrounding it. Joel spread out a blanket, and you both sat down, your shoulders touching, sharing the warmth of the moment.

“This is perfect,” you whispered, leaning into him.

He turned to you, his face inches from yours. “You’re perfect,” he said softly before capturing your lips in a kiss that felt like the first rays of sunshine after a storm.

You spent the afternoon there, talking about everything and nothing, your conversations punctuated by comfortable silences filled with the sound of nature and the beating of your hearts. Joel picked up a pebble and skimmed it across the lake’s surface.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, Joel pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket. “I’ve been writing something,” he admitted, looking almost shy. “About us.”

You felt a lump in your throat as he read aloud, his deep voice weaving words of love and dreams of a future together. It was in that moment you realized just how deeply Joel had intertwined with your soul, making you believe in a forever you had always been skeptical of.

“Marry me someday,” he had said, not as a question but as a promise.

“Someday,” you had agreed, sealing it with a kiss that tasted of hope and endless possibilities.

That day, everything felt like a love story from a book, each written page filled with the promise that seemed far from the truth now.

You thought of God when you walked towards the church, seeking prayers and perhaps answers about the fate of your written story with Joel.

The voices were getting to your head, as were the flashbacks from the first night. Puzzle pieces on the dead end of a relationship reeking of putrefaction. You should've known better; flowers die of thirst after being picked.

You thought of the nights. Joel came home late—the missed dinners, the cold shoulders. Each instance is a small fracture, barely noticeable at first but gradually accumulating into a chasm. You thought of the way his kisses had lost their warmth, becoming mere pecks devoid of passion. You had tried to hold on, to rekindle the flame, but it was like trying to grasp water with your hands—it slipped through your fingers, elusive and unattainable.

Dolls are pretty inside their boxes, then they are taken out, played with, worn down, and eventually discarded. You felt like that doll, once cherished and now left on a shelf, gathering dust.

"God," you murmured, "if you can hear me, please show me what to do. Show me how to fix this, or give me the strength to let go."

But how would you resist his charming promises after he had stolen your wounded heart, fixed you, and made you feel like you belonged somewhere?

Once you reached the bench, you got on your knees, clasping your hands together, and prayed to the Lord. You begged him to give you answers.

Should I stay with Joel? Or should I take this knife to my lungs and remove it?

There was nothing more humiliating than begging God that somebody would love you the way you wanted. You have let people love you the way you thought you deserved.

Please

Your golden bracelet was fading into a scarlet maroon as you clasped your palms together, praying.

Please

You prayed, trying not to imagine Joel shoving his dick into some other woman.

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on you like a weight on your shoulders. But in that silence, you felt a flicker of something—hope, perhaps, or maybe just a sense of acceptance. You realized that, whether you found a way to mend your relationship or decided to walk away, you would survive. You would find a way to heal, even with your heart in pieces.

As you stood to leave, you took one last look at the altar, the candles still flickering stubbornly against the darkness. You walked out of the church with a little more resolve.

You wake up in the middle of the night. Joel is there, breathing with his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You watch him for a moment, your heart aching with the memories of what used to be. Since when did you become a footnote in the story of his life?

Unable to find solace in the darkness, you slip out of bed, careful not to wake him. The floor is cool beneath your feet as you make your way downstairs, the house silent except for the faint creaks and groans of settling wood. You head to the kitchen, seeking the comfort of a warm cup of tea—something to soothe the restlessness gnawing at your soul.

You fill the kettle and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner igniting the only sound breaking the stillness. As you wait for the water to boil, you lean against the counter, your thoughts drifting back to the early days with Joel, when love was a fire that warmed you both.

The kettle whistles, jolting you from your reverie. You pour the steaming water over a tea bag, and the fragrant aroma of chamomile rises to meet you. As you stir the tea, you hear the soft padding of footsteps behind you. Turning, you see Joel standing in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep.

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a clear intention behind those words.

“It’s cold,” he answered. "I missed your warmth," he added, his voice a low murmur that carries the weight of unspoken feelings. "It's cold without you."

You swallow hard, the words catching a lump in your throat. "I couldn't sleep," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just needed some tea.”

Joel steps closer, the dim light casting shadows on his face. "I know things have been... different lately. Distant. I don't want it to be like this."

Here it comes: another lie to cage you.

You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind. You look down at your tea, the steam swirling like confusion in your mind.

“Do you love me?” you asked.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Of course I love you.” He assured you. “Life just got complicated, I guess. Work, responsibilities... but that's no excuse. I've let us drift apart, and I'm sorry."

You meet his eyes, searching for the truth in them. "I miss us," you admit, your voice breaking. "I miss what we had."

Joel reached out, his hand warm as it covered yours. Promising something without evoking words, as if his touch would be able to evoke the fire you used to feel when his hand touched your skin.

“You can go back to bed,” you said, breaking the suffocating silence settled between the two of you. “I’ll drink my tea first.”

Joel hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll be upstairs if you need me."

You watched him walk back up the stairs, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken promises and unresolved tensions. The quiet in the kitchen seemed even more profound after he left. You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the tea seep into your hands, trying to find comfort in its simplicity.

The minutes stretched on as you sipped your tea, your thoughts swirling like the steam rising from the cup. When the tea was gone, you washed the cup and placed it on the counter, taking one last moment to collect yourself before heading back upstairs.

When you entered the bedroom, Joel was already lying on his side of the bed, his back to you. You slipped under the covers; the sheets cooled against your skin. You turned off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The silence felt different now—less oppressive and more like a blank canvas waiting to be filled.

You settled into your usual spot, leaving a small gap between you and Joel. But before you could close your eyes, you felt him shift. He turned towards you, his arms reaching out and wrapping around your middle. It was a tentative embrace, but it was the first sign of love he had shown you in a while.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the familiar warmth of his body against yours. You relaxed into his hold, feeling the weight of his arm around you and the steady beat of his heart against your back.

"I miss this," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness.

You placed your hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I miss it too," you replied softly.

In the quiet of the night, wrapped in Joel's arms, you felt a flicker of hope. The path to healing and rediscovering each other would be long, but in that moment, you both took a step towards it.

The next morning, you woke up feeling the absence of Joel's warmth beside you. The space where he had lain was cool, and the sheets were undisturbed. You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, and sat up. As you looked around the room, you noticed Joel at the foot of the bed, quietly packing a suitcase.

A pang of confusion and worry shot through you. "Joel?" you called softly, your voice still heavy with sleep. "What's going on?"

Joel looked up, his expression a mix of guilt and resignation. "I'm leaving for the conference," he said, zipping up the suitcase with a firm pull.

Your heart sank. "What?" you asked, trying to make sense of the situation. "You didn't tell me you had a conference."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I’m sorry. It came up last minute, and I didn't want to worry you."

"But you're just leaving now? Without saying anything until now?" The hurt in your voice was palpable, the sense of déjà vu from last night's conversation lingering in the air.

Joel's eyes softened with regret. "I should have told you sooner. I didn't handle it well. I'm going with my boss, and we'll be back in a few days."

Your mind raced, trying to process his words. "Going with your boss? Why didn't you tell me about this before?" You knew he was saying the truth, and you had come to the conclusion that all the affection he showed you last night was pretending to ease you.

He hesitated, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "It’s been hectic at work, and honestly, I didn't want to add more stress to everything."

You stood up, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to shield against the emotional chill. "We talked last night about making more time for each other, and now you're leaving without a word."

Joel stepped closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I know, and I promise we'll talk more when I get back. I want to work on us, really."

You pulled back slightly, searching his eyes for sincerity. "I hope to be here for when you come back.”

"Don’t be like this, please," Joel replied, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't want to lose you, not after everything."

You forced a small smile, though it felt hollow. "Just be honest with me, Joel. About everything."

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I will. I promise."

With a heavy heart, you watched as Joel gathered his things and headed for the door. As it closed behind him, the emptiness of the house seemed to swallow you whole. You sank onto the couch, feeling lost and alone in the wake of his departure.

As the minutes stretched into hours, you found yourself unable to shake the nagging feeling of doubt that had settled in the pit of your stomach. Joel's sudden departure, coupled with his vague explanations, left you feeling unsettled and suspicious.

You paced the empty rooms of the house, your thoughts spiraling out of control. What if Joel wasn't really at a conference? What if he was with her and the secretary you knew had feelings for him?

The mere thought sent a surge of anger and betrayal coursing through you. You had noticed the way she looked at Joel and the way she always seemed to find excuses to be near him. And now, with Joel gone on this supposed trip, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

You grabbed your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. Should you call him? Text him?

But before you could make a decision, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The lack of sleep, coupled with the emotional turmoil of the morning, left you feeling drained and defeated.

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. Tears threatened to spill over, but you fought to hold them back. You couldn't let yourself fall apart, not now.

As you sat on the couch, overwhelmed by exhaustion and emotion, a sudden surge of determination washed over you. You couldn't just sit there, stewing in your doubts and fears. You needed answers, and you needed them now.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone and quickly searched for Joel's location. Your heart pounded in your chest as the GPS map pinpointed his whereabouts—an upscale hotel here in the city, not at all where he had claimed to be.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. Joel wasn't at a conference. He was right here, in the same city as you, but he had lied to you.

You were someone who, until recently, he had shared secrets with, and now he was keeping them from you.

Despite the exhaustion and emotional turmoil, a fierce determination burned within you to confront him and demand answers.

With shaky hands, you dialed a taxi, your mind racing with a mixture of anger, hurt, and disbelief. How could Joel, someone you had shared your deepest secrets with, now keep such a significant secret from you?

As you waited for the taxi to arrive, the minutes felt like hours, each passing second amplifying the turmoil within you. But you refused to let the uncertainty consume you. You needed to know the truth, even if it shattered the facade of your relationship.

Finally, the taxi pulled up outside your house, and you climbed inside, the anticipation building with every passing moment. The ride to the hotel felt interminable, the streets passing by in a blur as your thoughts swirled in a tempest of emotion.

When you arrived, you paid the fare and stepped out onto the sidewalk. The cool night air was a sharp contrast to the heat of your anger. The imposing facade of the hotel loomed before you, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of your life.

As you entered the lobby of the hotel, your heart raced with anticipation and anxiety. You couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that gnawed at you, driving you forward with a relentless need for answers.

Just as you were about to approach the reception desk to inquire about Joel's room, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With trembling hands, you retrieved it, seeing Joel's name flashing on the screen.

For a moment, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over the answer button. But then, steeling yourself for whatever confrontation awaited you, you pressed accept.

"Hello?" you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within you.

"Hey, babe," Joel's voice came through the line, sounding casual and unconcerned. "Just checking in. How’s Sarah? How's your evening going?"

Your grip tightened on the phone, anger bubbling up inside you at his nonchalant tone. "She is good; everything is fine," you replied tersely. "Just fine."

Joel seemed oblivious to your tone as he continued to chatter about the conference, complaining about how boring it was and how tedious it was to spend time with his boss.

As he prattled on, your mind raced with conflicting emotions. On one hand, his words seemed to confirm his alibi—unless, of course, he was lying through his teeth. On the other hand, his casual dismissal of your concerns only fueled your suspicions.

When he finally paused to take a breath, you seized the opportunity to interject. "Joel, where are you right now?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and you held your breath, waiting for his response.

"I'm still at the conference," he said finally, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why? What's going on?"

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your composure. "I see," you said through gritted teeth. "Well, have fun at your conference, Joel. Goodbye."

As you sat in the lobby, the minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Doubt gnawed at you, eating away at your resolve as you questioned whether you had been mistaken about Joel's whereabouts. Maybe he really was at the conference, and you were letting your suspicions get the better of you.

Just as you were about to give up and leave, your gaze drifted toward the entrance of the hotel. And there, walking through the doors, was Joel, his arm wrapped around the waist of his secretary, her laughter echoing in the cavernous lobby.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you watched them, your heart plummeting to the pit of your stomach. You felt like you had been punched in the gut, the air knocked out of your lungs as the truth stared you in the face.

Joel's eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, his face went white as if he had seen a ghost. You felt a surge of anger and betrayal wash over you, your knees threatening to give out beneath you.

As the truth of Joel's betrayal hit you like a freight train, panic seized hold of you, squeezing your chest in a vice-like grip. The world seemed to spin around you, and you struggled to catch your breath as waves of nausea washed over you.

One of the receptionists noticed your distress and hurried over to offer assistance. "Are you alright, miss? Can I help you?" they asked, their voice laced with concern.

You could only shake your head, unable to form coherent words as tears welled up in your eyes.

But before you could fully process what was happening, Joel appeared, his face etched with panic and concern. "Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" he exclaimed, rushing to your side and reaching out to steady you.

Your heart twisted at the sight of him, the betrayal stabbing at you like a knife. "Don't touch me," you choked out, recoiling from his touch as if it burned.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, unchecked and unbidden, as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your anguish. "How could you?" you whispered, your voice breaking with pain. "How could you do this to me?"

His eyes widened in realization, and for a moment, you saw the flicker of guilt and regret flash across his features. "I can explain," he began, but you couldn't bear to hear his excuses.

The pain was too raw and overwhelming, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of hurt and confusion. With trembling limbs, you pushed yourself to your feet, shaking off Joel's attempts to console you as you stumbled towards the exit.

"I need to get out of here," you muttered, your voice hollow and distant as you fled from the scene of your heartbreak.

As you stumbled towards the exit, Joel's voice followed you, pleading and desperate. "Wait, please, just let me explain," he called out, his footsteps echoing in the empty lobby as he chased after you.

But you couldn't bear to listen to his excuses; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. Anger bubbled up within you, a fierce fire burning away the remnants of the love you had once felt for him.

When you reached the cool night air outside, you turned to face him, your chest heaving with emotion. "Explain?" you spat, the word bitter on your tongue. "What could you possibly say to justify this?"

Joel's expression was a mask of guilt and regret as he reached out to touch your arm, but you jerked away from him, the sting of his betrayal still fresh in your mind. "I made a mistake," he began, his voice pleading. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You never meant to hurt me?" You scoffed, incredulous. "You lied to me, Joel. You betrayed my trust and our relationship. How could you think that wouldn't hurt me?"

He took a step closer, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I know I messed up, but please give me a chance to make it right. I love you, and I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

But his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the roar of anger and pain that filled your mind. "I don't want to hear it," you spat. “I gave you six years of my life to you!” you sobbed. “Six years wasted on you, you fucking asshole!” you began to hit in the chest.

With a surge of emotion, you lashed out, your fists pounding against his chest with a force fueled by years of love and betrayal. Each blow was a release, a cathartic expression of the pain and anger that consumed you.

But even as you struck out at him, the tears streaming down your face, you knew that no amount of violence could erase the pain of his betrayal. And as Joel stood before you, his face contorted with remorse, you realized that the love you had once felt for him was now nothing more than a bitter memory.

With tears still staining your cheeks, you turned away from Joel, your heart heavy with the weight of his betrayal. Every step felt like a struggle as you made your way back home, the echoes of your confrontation with Joel still ringing in your ears.

As you entered the familiar surroundings of your home, you felt a sense of overwhelming exhaustion wash over you. But there was no time to rest, no respite from the storm of emotions raging within you.

With a heavy sigh, you began to gather your belongings, each item a painful reminder of the life you had built with Joel. Your hands trembled as you packed your clothes and personal effects, the tears flowing freely as you grappled with the reality of your shattered dreams.

In the midst of your turmoil, the sound of the door opening drew your attention, and you turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his face a mask of desperation and remorse. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I'm sorry; I'll do anything to make things right."

But you couldn't bring yourself to look at him; you couldn't bear to see the pain and betrayal reflected in his eyes. With a heavy heart, you turned away, focusing on the task at hand as you continued to pack your things.

Suddenly, a voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, and you looked up to see Sarah standing in the doorway, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

But before you could respond, Joel stepped forward, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Sarah, we had a disagreement," he began, his voice thick with emotion. "But I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the situation to her, but you squared your shoulders and turned to face Joel and Sarah. "I'm leaving," you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions raging within you. "I need some time to figure things out, but I'll always be here for Sarah.”

With that, you gathered your belongings and made your way to the door, leaving behind the shattered remnants of the life you had once known. As you stepped out into the night, the weight of your decision hung heavy around you, but deep down, you knew that it was the only choice you could make.

As you stepped outside, the cool night air washed over you, but there was no relief from the turmoil raging within. Joel's footsteps echoed behind you, his desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as you continued to walk away.

"Please, just listen to me," Joel begged, his voice thick with emotion.

But you couldn't bear to hear his words; you couldn't stand the sight of him after his betrayal. With a surge of anger and frustration, you whirled around to face him, your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap.

The sound of the slap echoed in the stillness of the night, a resounding declaration of your pain and betrayal. Joel staggered back, his hand flying to his stinging cheek as he stared at you in shock.

"How dare you?" You spat, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "How dare you come after me, after what you've done?"

You turned away from Joel, refusing to let him see the depth of your pain. Without another word, you continued to walk away, leaving him standing alone in the darkness.

As you disappeared into the night, the sting of your slap still lingering on his cheek, Joel knew that he had lost you for good.

Your prayers have been answered by God.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal

[allfearstofallto]

Do you think Childe would get jealous is reader spent to much time with the kids or would he just appreciate her not being miserable 24/7?

Childe is jealous because HE can't spend lots of time with the kids. He's unreasonably happy that you and the children get along so well, but he hates that it comes at the cost of him not having a place to fit in.

Yandere! Childe x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: Reader has children, yandere themes, general angst

It was a thought that lingered in his mind more than he wanted. Despite the fact that he was adamant that he wouldn't let it bother him, it still crept its way into his brain during moments of silence. It was eating away at him, the one thing that he couldn't fight off was going home every night and noticing it. Noticing the silence, the lack of toys splayed about, the lack of laughter, the mess.

When he was a child and even up until long past his teenage years, he remembered not being able to walk two steps in his home without stumbling over a toy or board game or even some mysterious mess. He's aware that he has significantly less adolescents in his own house now than he did as a kid, but it doesn't change the fact that his his kids are just so clean. and quiet. It's almost unnerving how little he sees of those existence in the home.

And when he returns, even if there is still sun beaming down on the packed snow of Snezhnaya, his son's will already be up in their rooms. Whether it's to nap or do some schoolwork, the second he steps foot into his own home, they become unavailable, shying away from him as if he were the monster under their bed.

“Why are the boy's always busy when I get home,” he asked over dinner. A quiet dinner of just you and him. He hadn't eaten a meal with his son's in months, almost as if you wanted him to forget their existence.

A look of fear crossed your face, then confusion, then a weak, fake smile. Those smiles of yours. Forced quivering lips and wide eyes, how much longer could you continue to smile at him like that? How much longer would he allow it?

“They're both still young, Ajax, they don't want to be under their parents constantly,” you tried to assure him, following your words up by filling your mouth with food to not have to say more.

“That's bullshit,” he slammed his fist down on the table, scaring you even more in the process. You could see that he was seething with rage, close to having an outburst before taking a deep breath to calm himself. Still, his words were slow and concise as he spoke against, a growl present in his voice, “You can't even sit Damon down for a minute without him crying till he's blue in the face.”

There was nothing you could say to disprove what he was saying. He was correct. Damon was typically glued to your hip, throwing fits whenever you let go of him. He was always a clingy child, vastly different to Adonis, who only wanted you around to show you a cool trick he'd learned or an art project he'd made. But both of them would grow pale when you said that their father would be returning home soon, and even if you wanted to, you couldn't make them leave the confines of their rooms, knowing that Childe was lurking around the corner.

“I want to see my sons,” he said without waiting for your response.

“They're probably long asleep by now,” another lie. You couldn't get Adonis to go to bed without a fight most nights. You knew he was still up, possibly playing with his action figures once again, but if he heard the sound of his father's footsteps coming up the stairs, he'd be in bed with no hesitation. You remember a night where he thought it was Childe instead of you opening the door to his bedroom. He was curled up in his comforter, with it pulled up to his eyes. Peeking at the door like he was expecting the Boogeyman.

“I won't go in tomorrow then. We'll have the whole day together,”

You had nothing to say back, but also no way of forcing the boys to spend time with him. Rather, you silently picked at your food, a lump starting to form in your throat. Dinner was eaten in silence, with you only occasionally stealing glances at your husband, who was still angrily eating. Your heart sank thinking of the ways the boys would cry, but knowing that there was nothing you could do for them. Except be there as he forced himself into their lives. He was doing to them as he'd done to you. And helplessly, all you could do was watch.

#mai<3 answers #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere imagines

[ssunsationn]

Little Things You Can Do To Get Back On Track - Timeless ⏳

If you came from my “Why Am I Still Unsatisfied?” reading, sit back and relax. Take in the messages I am collecting at this moment. These are very simple things you can do today to get yourself back on the track of life.

Note: This is meant to be short and simple, but a storm of butterflies can whip up a tsunami. I got more than what I asked for from my spirit guides today. It seems you have a lot to hear. You never know what could impact your life. “You should be prepared.”

DO BEFORE YOU READ: Clear your mind. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You are no longer alone. Choose the photo that you can’t take your eyes off of.

—————-

Pile 1. “Simple is best.”

• You could use some vitamin C, to be honest. But don’t overdo it. Learn more about your body and keep up with it—things like how fast you metabolize certain things, but if you’re on medication or supplements, be aware that metabolizing medication is different from metabolizing food. You also either drink too much water or too little.

• If you’re prone to procrastination, start looking for libraries and cafes to help you better focus.

• TAKE BREAKS. Mental, emotional, all of it. Look out the window and observe things that catch your attention. Maybe you’ll start to realize that life does have its small and beautiful moments.

• You don’t have to be surrounded by friends and people all the time. Allow yourself some you-time, explore places on your own—I keep seeing someone wearing a scarf, drinking a hot-warm coffee (coffee is super dehydrating for you btw, so make sure you drink tons of water), fall season. Lounging around in your room and having a show binge by yourself is also good. It’d be nice if you had at least one day off every week to spend by yourself, without the presence of other people.

• Remember that you should recharge yourself too and that saying “no” is okay. You don’t have to be responsible for everyone else.

• Take a walk at dawn, but wear a jacket when you do so. Be wary of your surroundings still, but when you have a moment, breathe in the air of an area that has a dewy smell to it. Damp or rainy seasons work fine. Watch the sun come up for a few seconds and take that time to appreciate your environment.

—————

Pile 2. “Rejection is Okay.”

• Have you gone on any dates recently? I’m seeing a girl with her legs crossed at a cozy cafe, but she’s not bothered by it. She’s neutral in fact, very simple existing, and she’s reading a wall full of post-it notes from other couple. She seems intrigued, although not overly. Just neutral and an “oh, how nice” kind of vibe.

• Perhaps there is a lack of confidence. You should strive to be someone that is okay with being alone in public—specifically LOOKING alone in public. No, that does not make you seem lonely. It makes you comfortable with your own presence. Maybe you tend to think a lot or contemplate often.

• Working on leadership skills could be something. Maybe you’d like to become more assertive? I don’t have too much advice for this group, to be honest. But you should learn how to stand up for yourself more and be careful so that people don’t take advantage of you (for anything/any reason) easily.

• Condition your mind to not caring what others think. Obviously, there’s a limit and rules set in place so that we don’t get in legal trouble—I’m talking about your mindset. Don’t let others get to you easily and work more on your posture. Standing/sitting up straighter will begin to subtly convince your mind and you that you’re confident.

————

Pile 3. “It’s too quiet.”

• journaling can help. It might sound boring or it might be hard to sit in one place for a while, but you have to practice it. Discipline yourself.

• Kind of similar to pile 1, but this is a less responsible group. Don’t distract yourself from your problems and face them head on. Being cowardly isn’t a good trait to have. Be mindful about drinking and what other things you’re putting in your body. This could bite you back in the future.

• Friends may be questionable, may try to convince you to do things you weren’t initially planning to do/try. Be wary of this and stand up for yourself.

• Another thing if you do drink, learn not to drink away your problems or get high enough to escape them. It’s hard, I know. But you have to realize how important it is to live. Don’t be so reckless. If your soul is being let down, you’ll pay the consequences.

• If you feel like a failure or everyone around you says that you are, don’t feed into it. Build yourself up. Make something out of yourself but don’t let those people know. They’ll see it and possibly try to take credit. Don’t let them. Deal with it in a calm and diplomatic manner and turn your head away. You don’t need that extra nonsense. Simple acknowledgement is what they really need, so don’t give them the attention. You’ll mature so much from this.

• It might feel lonely and you may think you’re the only person who’s overthinking/overfeeling about something, or you feel like you’re different from the people you hang out with somehow. A small part of you probably thinks there’s more to life than just…this. Whatever you’re doing to pass the time and simply have fun. Like “they wouldn’t understand so I gotta fake it til I make it” type of energy. Laughing it off type of energy. “Ah, whatever- it’s nothing~” energy. Find like-minded people who share the same interests as you and bond with them. You will experience more authenticity in these relationships than your previous ones.

• Pile 3, you definitely have a bit to learn and it takes work, but you have it in you. The potential is very obviously there. You know it too, but you brush it off—don’t deny it. Don’t be scared of it and learn to speak its language. Reach your hand out to whatever is in that mental cave of yours and show it some kindness. It’s okay for it to come out. You’ll learn that it will take your hand faster than you’d thought. Don’t let doubt get in the way. This pile thinks A LOT and likes to drown it out, because it’s easy. Let yourself think and feel the emotions, bad or good. You won’t even recognize what you were holding back. You have power to impact people more than you realize. Good luck Pile 3, you have this.

————————-

Lil Teddy note: I hope you enjoyed this reading guys!! Today I asked for simple things that my readers could do to improve their lives and become better beings. I meant to keep it concise and give 3D, things-you-could-do-in-the-present type of things, but apparently, I received other messages to give that involved mental and physical health as well. Some piles made me feel worried and passionate, like their higher selves were desperate to get them out of these ruts or situations. The signs have been there but maybe some piles haven’t been taking them seriously or have been brushing them off one too many times. This is your sign man 😂😂 Please, take yourselves seriously and realize that you’ve only got a shot of this. Stay safe, work on that confidence, and learn to be with yourself. With all that being said, take what resonates and leave what doesn’t!! Thank you for coming to our reading today :) Teddy outttt

#tarot reading #pac tarot #daily tarot #tarot #intuition #intuitive #spirituality #spiritualgrowth #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a card

[mawidixon]

Saying "I missed you" won't express how I was dying inside

Daryl x fem!pregnant!reader

One-shot

Genre: Angst, fluff at the end

Warnings: Twd violence, swearing, pregnancy stuff,

Setting: Season 7 - Hilltop

Summary: After Daryl was taken by the Saviors, your life became much more difficult. However, you had a little reminder of him growing inside your womb.

A/N: This is my first one-shot. I did my best, but I'm not sure what to think about it. I hope you like it! Have a nice day! Sorry for any mistakes if there are any.

@mawi22 I don't want my work to be modified, copied, or any of this kind of stuff without my consent!!!

Your situation was rather of the ‘surprise’ kind of pregnancy that most women would not have been expecting to happen to them any time soon. At first, you could only feel the element of fear as you tried to think of how Daryl would respond to this new development that you never saw coming. It was troubling in your heart, for you understood well that he had his qualms about having a baby at this stage in life. There lies the grey area of a personal experience of a man who could not escape the dark memories of his childhood to become a responsible father and provider; the fear of making the same mistakes and reproducing the same patterns that define bad parenting. The commitment that a child would bring was too heavy for him to bear at this time in his life as he saw it as a mountain he would have to climb. This was the feeling you had when you were carrying this secret within you, a feeling of conflict within the self, torn between protecting him from the truth and the truth within your senses and conscience. However, with time, the silence became unbearable and you got to a stage that one could not continue suppressing the truth anymore regardless the fact that it created a feeling of awkwardness. The desire of getting closer and creating a fair partnership could not remain unanswered anymore, so it is, you had to face this sensitive concern with bravery and openness.

As time went by, Daryl's feelings for the unborn child grew stronger. Despite his initial fears, the anxiety that had plagued him over the past few months began to fade. He had always been cautious, but now, a new kind of tenderness emerged. When you were cuddling on the couch, he would often place his rough, calloused hand on your belly, rubbing it gently as if he could already feel the connection to his child. Daryl's efforts to prepare for the baby were evident. Every time he came back from a run, his backpack would be filled with baby clothes, toys, and little trinkets he thought might be useful. His eyes would light up with a mix of pride and excitement as he showed you his finds, his voice tinged with a rare softness as he explained why he chose each item.

One night, you pretended to be asleep, curious about the whispers coming from his side of the bed. You peeked through half-closed eyes to see Daryl leaning close to your belly, his lips barely an inch away from your skin. He was talking to the baby, his voice low and gentle, filled with promises and dreams for the future. It was a side of him you rarely saw, vulnerable and hopeful, and it made your heart swell with love. However, Daryl's protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing. He couldn't stand to see you doing any kind of unnecessary work. Whether it was lifting a box or bending down to pick something up, he would swoop in, insisting that you rest and let him handle it. At times, it was endearing, but often it left you feeling frustrated. You appreciated his concern, but you also craved a bit of independence.

"Darlin', you shouldn't be doing that," he'd say, gently taking a task out of your hands. You'd sigh, sometimes rolling your eyes, but deep down, you knew it came from a place of love and fear of losing you both. Despite the occasional annoyance, you found comfort in his unwavering dedication. Daryl had faced so many dangers in his life, but none seemed to shake him as much as the prospect of fatherhood. And in his own way, he was already proving to be a devoted and loving partner, ready to protect and cherish his growing family.

...

That was until Negan and his people took Daryl. The day everything changed, you were at the Hilltop, just weeks away from your due date. The anticipation of meeting your baby was mingled with the joy of Daryl’s newfound tenderness and protectiveness. It was supposed to be a time of hope and new beginnings. You were resting in one of the rooms when the commotion outside caught your attention. Peeking through the window, you saw a group of people rushing towards the main gate. Your heart sank as you recognized Sasha and Maggie, both with tears streaming down their faces. You hurried out, your swollen belly making every step a little more difficult.

Sasha spotted you immediately and ran over, her face a mix of grief and urgency. "Daryl… they took Daryl, and killed Abraham and Glenn." she said, her voice breaking. For a moment, her words didn’t register. The world seemed to tilt, and you had to steady yourself against a nearby wall.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were crying uncontrollably. Your sobs echoed through the courtyard, a raw expression of the fear and despair gripping your heart. Everything had been perfect, or as perfect as it could be in this world. You were about to start a family with the man you loved, and now… now, he was gone. Each moment that passed without Daryl felt like an eternity. The fear that he might be dead gnawed at you, a constant, unbearable weight. You clutched your belly, feeling the baby move inside you, a bittersweet reminder of the life you had hoped to share with Daryl.

The Hilltop community tried to offer support, but nothing could quell the storm of emotions inside you. The world that had seemed so promising just a few hours ago now felt dark and uncertain. All you could do was cling to the hope that the love of your life was still out there, fighting to come back to you and the child he had already come to love so deeply.

It was another day without Daryl. Each morning, you woke with a glimmer of hope that he might somehow return, only to be crushed by the reality that he was still out there, somewhere, in the clutches of the Saviors.

As you sat in the room you once shared with him, your eyes wandered to the baby items scattered around, each one a testament to Daryl's growing excitement about becoming a father. Tiny clothes, soft blankets, and the little toys he had brought back from his runs—each piece carried a memory of happier times. You remembered the day you and Daryl decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise. It had been a moment filled with laughter and love, a rare lightness in your often perilous lives. He had said about teaching the baby to hunt and fix motorcycles. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to your face, followed quickly by a pang of sorrow. Now, with Daryl gone and no certainty of his fate, the need to know the baby’s gender became overwhelming. It felt like a way to hold onto him, to make the waiting a little more bearable. Perhaps knowing would bring some comfort, some sense of connection to him amidst the chaos.

You made your way to the Hilltop’s infirmary, your heart heavy but resolute. As the doctor performed the ultrasound, you held your breath, tears threatening to spill over. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, strong and steady, a small beacon of hope in the darkness.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced with a gentle smile, and the tears you had been holding back finally flowed freely. You clutched your belly, imagining a little boy with Daryl’s piercing blue eyes, his determined spirit, and his fierce love. The knowledge that you were carrying a son gave you a renewed sense of purpose. You whispered to your belly, promising Daryl that you would stay strong, that you would protect their child with everything you had. The thought of a little boy who would grow up to be a hundred percent version of his father brought a sliver of light to your heart.

Each kick and movement from your baby boy was a reminder of the love you shared with Daryl, a love that had created this new life. Despite the uncertainty and fear, you held onto the hope that one day, Daryl would return, and you would introduce him to his son. Until then, you would keep fighting, for both of them.

...

Thirty minutes had passed, and you were in the kitchen, preparing something to eat. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables was almost soothing, a temporary distraction from the gnawing worry that had settled in your chest. Maggie was sitting beside the table, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

“You should really let me do this,” Maggie insisted for the tenth time, her voice firm yet gentle. “You’re in the late stage of pregnancy. You need to rest.” You sighed, pausing for a moment to look at her. “Maggie, I’m fine.”

Maggie opened her mouth to argue again, but the sound of the gate to the Hilltop cracking open interrupted her. Her head snapped towards the window, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of hope. She quickly got up, moving to the stove to turn off the gas. "Hey, what’s going on?” you asked, a mix of confusion and worry in your voice.

Maggie turned to you, her face lit up with a sudden, intense emotion. “Daryl came back!” Her voice trembled with joy and disbelief. For a moment, you stood there frozen, the words echoing in your mind. Daryl came back. The knife slipped from your hand, clattering onto the counter as you felt your heart race with a mixture of hope and fear.

You hurried towards the door, following Maggie. As you reached the courtyard, the sight that met your eyes took your breath away. There, amidst the gathering crowd, was Daryl. His clothes were worn and dirty, his face marked by exhaustion and pain, but he was there. He was alive.

Daryl looked up, and his eyes met yours. For a moment, everything else faded away. You rushed towards him, your hands instinctively moving to your belly, feeling the life inside you kicking in response to your racing heart.

“Daryl!” you cried, your voice breaking with emotion. He moved towards you, his steps quickening as he saw you. In an instant, he was there, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his chest, sobbing with relief.

“'m here,” he whispered, his voice rough but filled with love. “’m here, an' 'm not goin' anywhere.” You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands cupping his face. “I was so scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I didn’t know if you were...” He just wiped away your tears in response.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his heartbeat, the world felt right again. You held onto him, promising yourself that you would never let go.

To your surprise, tears began to stream down Daryl’s face too. The strong man you knew, who rarely showed any signs of weakness, was now falling apart before your very eyes. He got on his knees and cupped your distended belly with his calloused hands, running his fingers over your skin softly, which brought tears to your eyes. "How is my little one?" he said with happiness and the tenderness of a father. He smiled at you and the weariness in his eyes was replaced by hope. “He’s okay,” you responded, not even realizing that you were saying it out loud. As for Daryl, his eyes opened wide in shock. “He?” he repeated, coming to the realization. It suddenly dawned on you that you had let it slip. You had planned to surprise him but in the heat of the moment, you blurted it out. “I’m sorry. .. Yes, I shouldn’t have—”Before you could finish, Daryl’s face softened. He slowly stood up, reaching out to cup your face gently. He said softly, “Nothin' to apologize for.”

"I love you"

"I love ya too"

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #x reader #daryl x reader #tw depressing stuff

[yanderemommabean]

Drider Mahito please mama I am begging on my hands and knees

The spider crawls forward, humming and tilting his head as he examines a few spots of his surroundings. A small bush here, a skittering critter over there, and of course a terrified bounding deer that’s trying to avoid the fate of the current one dangling and bleeding in the creature's mouth. 

He’s so excited,the electricity thrumming over his skin. He wants to catch as many meals as he can, he’s sure if he catches the most then things will go just as planned! 

Mahito was positive that all he needed to do was show he could hunt, gather, and track to be able to win your heart. He’s kept an eye on you for about a month now, watched you celebrate a holiday here and there, and was just in awe. You’re so intriguing. Most humans have boring and too bland of a life for him to care for, but you…You have a way about you. The way you carry yourself, the way you stand up to people despite their rank in your nest, the way you favor one thing yet despise another. 

He wonders if you’re the kind to appreciate the beauties of eating one's family members. He could scoop up that pesky relative who questions too much, you seem to have an ire of sorts towards them. 

Ah, maybe as a first courting sort of gift. For now he has to at least get his feet in the door! 

Maybe you’d like that street cat as well? You cuddle the other ones though…mmm…No, best to leave it be. You humans have weird ways to show some creatures affection, and others horror and disdain. 

Though, he supposes that's every creature. 

Trudging around in the trees, he hums a small tune and waves to the other Driders and Nagas, finding their meals and their bones to chew on. Some wave with a smile, others move on with their eyes down or a soured look on their faces. 

They’re smart. They see the markings that Mahito bears and know to stay a good distance. He has a reputation for mauling and using his venom just because some dare to look him in the eye. But that doesn't mean he’s a monster! What? He can’t have fun and play around?! 

A crackle of leaves and twins makes everyone alert, and a wide, almost manic smile grows on Mahitos face. It's you! That scent, that heart beat, the heat he can see on your flesh-It’s you! Oh he can't wait! He can’t wait! 

He scurries forward, blood and meat dripping down his chin and chest as he hurries toward you, pupils wide and wild as he manages to pinpoint exactly where you are. Ah! Now that he’s this close, he’s suddenly nervous! 

But you look so pretty, so delicate, so easy to break and eat and devour if you were more of his prey….

Thankfully you’re his mate! Or, well, you will be! See, he isn’t keen on being told no to something he desperately wants. Be it food, territory, or a way to be with you every single day for the rest of his life. 

You’ll accept, you’ll come home with him, learn his name and learn to stay inside at all times when he isn’t beside you. You’ll kiss and laugh and you’ll tell him how much you love him, how he’s such a good boy for you, how he’s such a hard working hunter who deserves your attention and love and- 

He’s so lost in his excitement he doesn't hear the horrified screams you make as he drops the raw meat and bones at your feet. He just grins, a large tongue coming to swipe at his blood stained teeth as he waits like a dog for your answer and your praise. Surely you see how hard he’s worked on this right?! 

Oh…you’re…scurrying away again? 

Well that’s rather ungrateful don’t you think? 

After everything he’s done? 

His expression sours, but he doesn’t let you get away as he easily gets ahead of you, lifting you up with ease as you dangle in his grasp, begging for your life and terrified of the creature holding your life in his hands, literally. 

“Insolent little wretch. I swear. I did all of this and you’re just going to turn away?!” he hisses, teeth coming close to nipping your skin as you feel your heart seize in your chest. Your voice, quivering and weak, speaks out as he dangles you higher, wanting to see the fear in your eyes for denying him your courtship. 

“Please don’t kill me”. What? What the fuck are you talking about?! Why would you assume-

It clicks. You see him as a predator on the hunt rather than a mate to be loved by. Huh. How did you ever come to that conclusion? It’s like you think he’d eat your bone marrow or something! 

Then there’s a simple solution to this! He just holds you in his hand, tight and firm, carrying you and your wriggling body away to the dark edges of his territory as he explains how he’ll prove himself. 

It’s easy! You just have to let him show you how much he wants you! Well, it's more of a need at this point. He went feral just thinking of you with some other mate, human or not. And if those Naga's want their tails intact they’ll know to keep their distance.

-Mommabean (I hope you enjoyed!)

#yandere drider #yandere Mahito #yandere jjk #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere exophilia #yandere x reader #yandere male #Mommabean

[hoshifighting]

heyy i hope you’re having a great day/night ✨

i was wondering if u could do an ot13 reaction to the reader having a tattoo on their booty cheek that represents them

ex: 🍒 for scoups and 🍊 for seungkwan

thank you and take care 🫶🏾

Seventeen's reaction, when you get a tattoo on your booty cheek, representing them.

Seungcheol: When Seungcheol sees the small cherry tattoo on your ass, he smirks, eyes darkening. "A cherry, huh? Just for me?" he murmurs, tracing the ink with his fingertips. The possessiveness in his gaze is unmistakable. He grabs your hips, pulling you close, and whispers in your ear, "Now, I have to make sure everyone knows who this belongs to." His touch turns rougher, spanking your ass lightly, "You're gonna remember this every time you see that tattoo."

Seungkwan: Upon seeing the cherry tattoo on your ass, Seungkwan blinks in surprise, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, really? You went and inked my favorite fruit right there?" he chuckles, his eyes gleaming with delight. "And only for my eyes, huh? How flattering." His touch is mischievous and teasing, fingers running lightly over the tattoo, "Can't wait to show you just how happy this little tangerine makes me."

Jeonghan: When Jeonghan sees the delicate angel wings on your ass, a symbol of him, he chuckles softly, tracing the lines with his fingers. "You really did this for me?" he asks, his voice amused. "Guess I'll have to reward my angel properly," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. he makes sure you feel every moment of his appreciation for the tattoo.

Joshua: Joshua's eyes widen slightly at the sight of the small cross (or deer, idk) tattoo on your ass. "Oh my god! Y/N what is it?" he asks, his gentle demeanor doesn't stop him from gripping your hips tightly, pulling you against him. "Interesting choice of placement," he purrs, his fingers tracing a slow path around the inked design. "And just for me, huh? How flattering." he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

Jun: Jun's reaction is immediate and intense when he sees the cat tattoo. "A cat? For me?" he says, he chuckles, maybe not believing. He wastes no time, his hands rough as they caress your skin. "You're gonna regret teasing me like this," he growls, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses and bites over the tattoo.

Hoshi: Gets, REALLY turned on, and you know why. Hoshi's eyes light up with mischief when he spots the small tiger tattoo. "A tiger for your tiger, huh?" he teases, he grips your ass, squeezing it firmly, but also with care with the tattoo. "I'm gonna make you roar tonight," he promises, chuckling. (He would also accidentally end up talking about it in a circle of friends when he was drunk. – he could even cry, depending on the alcohol level in his blood.)

Wonwoo: Wonwoo for a moment can't believe you did that, he even thinks it's a fake tattoo, as he runs his fingers over the tattooed skin. "You're crazy..." "You really are something," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin. – Now loves every position where he can see the tattoo on your ass.

Mingyu: His reaction is a mix of surprise and arousal when he notices the tattoo. "You got this tattoo just for me?" he chuckles, but the playful tone quickly shifts as his eyes darken. "You’re so naughty," he says. He leans in, biting the skin around the tattoo lightly, making you gasp. "I'll have to show you how much I appreciate it," he whispers, his hands sliding over your body, making sure you know exactly how much the tattoo turns him on.

Woozi: Woozi's eyes widen when he sees the musical note tattoo. "You didn't..." he asks mouth opened, with flushed cheeks. His hands are delicate, pulling you against him. "Guess I'll have to play you like my favorite instrument," he whispers, kissing your neck.

Minghao: "Now, I know you're a bit impulsive, Y/N," Minghao whispers, his words half-teasing, half-admonishing. "But a tattoo, really? You do realize it stays on your skin forever, don't you? And just for me?" The slight scold is tempered by his shy giggling, a sign that any faux exasperation is just for show. He touches the tattoo, his touch soft and tender. "It does look beautiful though, and knowing it's a mark just for me...well, it's cute."

Seokmin: As Seokmin takes in the tattoo, his eyes grow wide with surprise and excitement. He gasps dramatically, his mouth forming an exaggerated "O" shape. "Oh my goodness! It's so cute!" he exclaims. He playfully reaches out to touch the tattoo, giggling uncontrollably, his touch delicate and playful. "I can't believe you actually got this cute cherry! It's the most adorable thing ever!" He jumps up and down, unable to contain his joy and enthusiasm.

Vernon: He reaches out, tentatively touching the ink, gently pressing his fingers against your skin to see if it's real. You wince slightly, the sensation of his touch registering on your skin. His eyes widen in surprise and disbelief as he realizes the tattoo is indeed real, and that you have marked yourself with it for him. "Oh my gosh…you actually did it," he whispers in disbelief.

Chan: As you and Chan enter the bathroom, because 'you needed to show him something'. You lower your pants, revealing the tattoo on your ass. Chan's eyes widen, and he inhales sharply, before he can respond, he bites his knuckles, a quiet gesture of shock. He quickly turns away, allowing himself a moment to process the sight before him.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen headcanons #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #seventeen #svt imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x oc #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seungcheol smut #jeonghan smut #joshua hong smut #junhui smut #hoshi smut #soonyoung smut #scoups smut #wonwoo smut #minghao smut #the8 smut #mingyu smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #seungkwan smut #vernon smut #hansol smut #dino smut

[specshroom]

Ok so what do you think would make a monster INSTANTLY attracted to someone. And then how do you think they would vocalize/show it?With said monsters being orcs, merfolk, centaurs, driders, werewolves, and vampires

Okokok so these are all obviously just my opinion :) but here we go:

🧌 I think in orc culture the women initiate romantically and sexually just as much as the men, as opposed to human culture where the men generally are expected to initiate more. So I think any orc would find it hot if you were the one to flirt and initiate contact first.

- They like humans who know what they want and go for it.

- They like humans who can hold their liquor. They just think it's hot.

- They like humans who are a little vulgar. Who swear and shout and are a little rowdy maybe?

- So if you want to attract an orc your best bet would be to just go up to one and flirt heavily with them. If they like you they'll think it's hot that you show your attraction so boldly and they'll flirt back just as hard.

🧜Merfolk generally keep to themselves and their underwater cities. For a merfolk to be swimming in shallow waters means they're probably curious about the surface already.

- These merfolk will be instantly intrigued by a human who is as interested in them as the merfolk is with the surface. They just really like humans who try and talk to them, frantically ask them questions about their species and just seem enamored with their existence.

- A merfolk will fall for a human who brings them cool human stuff they've never seen before and enthusiastically tells them stories about the surface world.

- They'd appreciate humans who aren't scared to swim with them. They know the water is not a humans natural place and that it takes a lot of trust for them to be so vulnerable. They'd straight up take that as a confession of love from the human.

🐎 In my head centaurs are often depicted as strong stern types. Like noble warriors and such so I think they'd admire humans who are resourceful and independent.

- They won't like any human who disrespects nature. Killing unnecessarily or destroying/ littering wildlife is an absolute no go.

- They like outdoorsy humans who like nature walks or mountain climbing, that kind of shit. Anything from fishing to bird watching really.

- They find archery very attractive for some reason.

- Centaurs are known for being steely and almost cold so if one likes you they probably won't show it immediately but slowly over time by engaging in your shared interests.

🕷️ I think driders are often starved for affection. In my headcanon, driders don't get much affection from their parents because they're very independent and able from a young age so they're never really coddled as children.

- So I think driders would like a human who treats them very gently and sweetly despite not needing too at all because they're fierce hunters.

- They're not the most approachable monsters with their eight beady eyes and venom filled chelicerae. They don't initiate with humans much because they know they can be frightening. It can be isolating for them so they'd love if a human showed no fear towards them and instead treated them as if they were cute rather than scary.

- They'd be absolutely smitten if a human coddled and babied them, calling them grossly sweet petnames like "cutey", "darling" or "baby" while caressing their face gently. Just treating them with such care even though they could kill the human very easily. They might even cry from the affection.

🦇 I think vampires appreciate humans who aren't childish but still have a love for life. People who are lively and curious about the world but still mature and driven.

- I think humans who are exciting and have a thirst for life is what attracts vampires cus it helps them reignite their own love for life which may have dwindled after so many years of being immortal.

- Humans who are reckless with their own lives are a turn off. Vampires already have to experience losing many close ones due to immortality so I don't think they'd appreciate someone who disregards their life or the lives of others carelessly.

- Vampires are harder to categorise because they all come from different backgrounds and stuff but I think if a vampire liked a human most of them would have to know one for a while before bringing up anything serious. They understand the stakes (hah) of falling in love with humans and act accordingly.

🐺 Dog people. Werewolves like dog people. Sorry I know it's basic but I think werewolves are often simple creatures so what attracts them is relatively simple. Nothing wrong with that.

- They see a human walking their dog and they just go "I have a chance!!"

- They like humans who smell like their dog or have dog fur on their clothes, they think it's cute.

- They think it's so cute when humans baby talk dogs while giving them pets. It makes their own tails wag sometimes.

- Now that doesn't mean they like being treated like dogs cus they don't. They just think a dog person is a huge green flag in humans.

- Don't worry, this doesn't mean they hate cat people but they are more likely to flirt and initiate conversation with someone who has a dog or who smells like they own a dog.

#can u tell im not much of a vampire fan. im sorry vampire lovers i didnt know what to say <\3 #monster x human #monster lover #monster x reader #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #werewolf #werewolf x human #vampire x reader #drider #orc x reader #orc x human #merman #centaur #terato

[liliewrites]

Hi, I love the way you write. You express the characters very well, I can really hear Arlecchino's voice in your sentences.

You can do one with Arlecchino x femreader? Where Arlcchino and reader are married and take care of the children together (would be great seeing reader being maternal with Lyney, Lynnett and Freminet) After reader arrived in their lives, parties and family moments were common. One day at a gymkhana held with all the children, a traitorous Fatui was ordered by an Arlecchino's enemy to kill Arlecchino while she was distracted, but Reader noticed and got in front of her, taking the hit. Reader almost dies and Arlecchino, Lyney, Lynnett and Freminet want revenge.

(Sorry for bad english)

HELLOOO ANONN:)) lmaoo sorry i was brainrotting a lot about this ask and i didn't know how to write it and end it because it's such a good idea and has a lot of potential.. anyw here u go and eat uppp!!:) also forgive me if i understood the word "gymkhana" wrong.. i just searched up the definition on google since i am not familiar with the word hihi..

-warning/s ; a bit of violence at a certain part:) besides that, none!:)

(men dni utc please!)

it was a fun, festive day for the children at the house of the hearth.

arlecchino and you had decided to host a fun little event for the kids, as both of you agreed that it'd be beneficial to the children not just for improving their skills, but for their enjoyment as well.

as of the moment, you and arlecchino were sitting on the side, lyney and freminet were currently tasked with helping and assisting the younger children, while lynette had mostly insisted on staying with you and arlecchino while helping out with organizing the event. you and your wife didn't mind much as you knew she was more introverted and a couple more helping hands would help a lot.

"mother, i believe that we should start the flag race soon.. shall we get the horses and the players ready?" lynette asked, looking down at the clipboard in her hands. you couldn't help but smile, lynette has grown into such a fine, young dependable lady. you pat lynette's head, giving her ears a little rub as praise. "yes, my dear. i would appreciate it too if you assisted them with getting on as well, see to it that none of them get injured." you told her, and she nods at you, her tail slightly wagging as she walks away. you couldn't help but chuckle, knowing that your praise didn't go unnoticed by your daughter.

"mother! mother! look, look!"

"don't i look cool, mother?"

"mother! this is so fun!"

left and right, children were all calling for your attention, and your heart was bursting in joy as you got up from your chair to approach them. you could see the smiles on their little faces and you knew they were enjoying themselves. one child ran up to you, holding freminet's hand and a drawing in another. she brought it up and showed you, smiling widely. "mother, ah- look! big brother fremi drew me an octopus!" she boasted, making freminet look to the side shyly. you couldn't help but feel proud of freminet, whom was usually alone and reserved, was now trying his best to get along and help out with the younger children. "my, what a lovely drawing, hm? mother is very glad that both of you are having fun." you smile, the turning your head to look at lyney as they both walked away. he was currently busy entertaining the audience (who were also kids) with his little magic tricks as they waited for the flag race. little eyes looked at their older brother with admiration, watching him unfold each trick with excitement.

and of course, as all this happened in the background, your wife was currently sitting from where you had currently sat with her on the side. arms crossed as she leaned on her chair, eyes watching over you and the children intently, yet the intimidating look had gone away from her face. instead, a soft look could be seen from her eyes, and she was sitting in a rather relaxed manner as she smiled at the sight of you with the children. her heart swelled joyously, seeing you interact lovingly with them, your laughter along with theirs ringing pleasantly in her ears as she made sure to capture each pretty smile you had on your face.

funny, as her comrades and enemies alike told her that "your wife is your weakness, knave. you've gone soft." if it were the old her, the old her that were full of hatred, of revenge-- devoid of the compassion and acceptance that you've taught her, it would've been an insult but right now? it was a fact, she knows it herself. you were her weakness, but you were not her drawback nor her flaw, but the weakness to the lost, angry soul that she was without you. you were the guiding hand that gave her a reason to continue watching over the house of the hearth, a proper one, unlike a certain motherly figure she came to know.

amidst the festivities, lyney had told everyone to calm down as the flag race was about to start. a big smile on your face as you stood there, instead of going back to sit with arlecchino, as the kids wanted to be with you.

everyone had got into position, the kids were safely mounted on the horses. the audience was cheering, and lyney was holding party popper to use as a signal cue. all of you were filled with thrill and excitement, as lyney counted off to start the race.

"alright, on your marks, hold tight!"

"get ready, set, and-"

before he could even pull on the string and say go, another loud bang was heard- and it was not from the party popper that lyney was holding.

much to everyone's horror, you were clutching your sides. you felt like you were slowly falling the floor, eyesight getting hazy, you were losing your senses quickly- everything was becoming blurry.

the whole event was silent before high pitched, loud screams calling your name could be heard as they ran towards you. the older trained kids, however, were sure to hold them back to give you space.

arlecchino, the moment she saw you get shot, wasted no time in rushing towards you to catch you. ".. d-darling, darling. are you okay? i got you, beloved.. i.." her eyes widened in shock, but her face froze in horror as she held you. warm, thick and sticky liquid pouring onto her and her clothes, but she didn't care.

"d.. darling, you-"

she was blinded with rage. all she saw was red and black, you just got shot, the perpetrator shouldn't have gone far. "children, find who did this. now!"

the older kids had gone and scattered, lyney and freminet leading them as lynette ushered the youngers ones to evacuate. as they dispersed, arlecchino held your body with gentleness and care, you weakly held onto her. ".. b-beloved, don't.. don't get the kids into this.." you pleaded, but arlecchino shook her head. you were in a critical situation, and yet, you still thought of the kids?

"my love, they are trained for this. have faith in our children, now, hold on. i will take you inside."

arlecchino gently lifted you up, holding you closely to her chest as she possibly can without hurting you. "don't pass out on me, beloved." she gently coaxed you as she brought you inside, trying to keep you awake.

as she finally got you in the clinic, the kids whom were trained in medical aid had prepared to take care of you while they waited for a real doctor to come. she gently laid you down on the bed, sitting next to you and she held your hand. every time the children made contact with your wound, you couldn't help but groan and moan- this was all being done with anesthesia after all. the sight of you crying in pain made arlecchino's chest tight with anger and fear. it was the first time the children saw their father become eerily quiet with such an expression on her face.

"father! we've caught the culprit!"

lyney came running in the clinic, panting. arlecchino leaned in to kiss your forehead, you were dangling on the edge of consciousness and it made her feel bad to leave you, but she had to- lest her wrath consume her whole and that would not be good for all of you. "beloved, the children will take care of you while we wait for a doctor. i'll be back soon, i promise." she whispered, before joining with lyney. "lyney, is the man tied?" she asked, and lyney nodded. "yes father, shall we turn him in to the-"

"no, never mind that. i will take care of him on my own."

she dismissed lyney with her hand, making the boy silently nod at her father's command to not hand the criminal over to the authorities. however, he couldn't shrug off the creepy feeling coming from his father. arlecchino had a blank expression on her face, he couldn't decipher her feelings at all. he paid no mind to this, not wanting to be the outlet of whatever his father was feeling.

as soon as they walked into the room where the culprit was held captive, the room was filled with a chilling atmosphere. all of the kids within the room could feel it. the perpetrator however, his face was full with fear as he looked at the harbinger. he started talking, but his words were muffled as his mouth was tied and covered.

"children, i am proud of you all for catching this man. we've given your mother justice, but for now. you are all dismissed. tell lynette to come over."

at your words, the children silently obey and leave the room. now it was just the man and arlecchino. for the whole time, arlecchino had held herself back from showing any kind of murderous intent, as she knew you wouldn't appreciate having it shown to the kids.

but now? the look on her face was indescribable, her hand was trembling in pure wrath. she leaned down, grabbing the man by his collar and throwing him against the wall. "i will ask you questions, and for every wrong answer, i will cut off one finger. think wisely." she threatened the man, grabbing a chair and pulling it in front of him. "however, seeing as you've decided to hurt my wife in the first place, i can see that you lack a brain."

the man was silenced, and she carefully studied his features. he was a fatui, much to her annoyance. "a traitor, i see. now tell me, who was it that ordered you to do this?" he asked, tugging on the cloth on his mouth.

"p-please, my lord- it wasn't my intention to-"

the man was cut off by his own agonizing scream of pain, with arlecchino stepping on his leg, piercing his flesh with the tip of his heels. "let this serve as a warning, you buffoon. if you do not give me an answer, i will cut your finger off next."

"i-it was one of the rich men you offended last time, my lord! s-sir van duyn!"

arlecchino clicked her tongue, tsk, it was one of those greedy capitalists again. how childish they are, just because of a few true but harsh words, and they act pathetically like this? sending in someone to hurt the knave's wife as they spend a fun day for the children?

arlecchino walked out the door and lynette was already there. "clean up the mess, do not let anyone else know of this." she ordered and lynette silently nodded.

oh, now they've done it. with a snap of arlecchino's fingers, the man's curdling screams had echoed within the room, his flesh slowly being consumed with her flames and soon, the one behind all this would suffer a much more painful death.

it was already nightfall when you had woken with you in full grasp of your senses. you looked around you, the children sleeping, and you immediately felt bad. they must've been so tired to fall asleep this early.

"beloved, are you awake?"

you were startled, but you looked towards the door. your wife, she was there. there was blood on her. you immediately sat up, but she immediately brought a finger to her lips, a silent cue to be careful not to wake the kids up. she walked towards you and sat by your side.

"oh celestia, my beloved.."

you gasped, hand touching her cheek. blood was splattered against her pale skin, but you were able to deduce that it wasn't hers, seeing as there were no visible wounds on her body. arlecchino however, had leaned into your palm, her hand on top of yours as she closed her eyes. "careful, my love. i do not wish to dirty your hands.." she reminded you, but the blood was dry. your chest was spilling with worry and fear. "what happened, arlecchino? are you okay? are the kids okay? i-" she took your hand off her cheek, kissing your knuckle.

"i'm glad that you are back to your senses, beloved, but yes i am fine. the kids on the other hand, i told you to have faith in them remember? they are fine and unharmed." she assures you as she crawls into bed with you, gently pushing you down and collapsing onto your chest as she wraps her arms around you. "now please, i wish to hold what i've almost lost in my arms." she wishes with a pleading tone, so you decided not to press on further. knowing that it's been hard for arlecchino to see you like this, you sigh, moving your hand to run through her hair again. she closes her eyes, now was she only truly able to calm down, feeling your warmth invading her senses. "if it means being able to keep holding you like this.. i'll do anything- anything, my love, just to protect the warmth that you give.."

a little bonus hihi ;

you sighed, deciding to let this go for now. however, at bedtime, you refused to let arlecchino sleep next to you (for awhile) as you were upset that she had made the kids do something as dangerous as running after the culprit.. but the next morning, arlecchino smiled, seeing as you were sleeping soundly on her chest.

currently, you were having morning coffee with arlecchino while the kids were still asleep. you were skimming through the newspaper, and you couldn't help but gasp in shocking as you read a certain news. "oh, darling? do you remember sir cecil van duyn?" you asked. arlecchino hummed, placing her cup down. "yes, one of our investors? what is it, dear?" she asked, looking at you curiously. "he was found dead! i may have not seen him often, but what a shame.." you sighed, oblivious to the fact that it was your wife's doing. arlecchino looked away, bringing the cup to her lips again. "yes, indeed darling, what a shame.."

she would not tell you this but for you, if it meant keeping you well and alive-- yes, she'd kill for you any day. she could paint her whole arm with the blood of those that dare to even lay a finger on you and she'd wear it proudly, to instill the image of it in their minds, so that her enemies know that it could be their blood next splattering on her if they decide to do the same dumb mistake the others already have.

#arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino genshin impact #lilac writes💜 #lilac asks💜 #jaksdkjjwahs

[dilfluvrr10]

Joost x music journalist!reader where joost invites them for a show and they thinks its for work but actually he did it bc he likes them 🤭

Guysss I just wrote thisss. This is my first fanfiction I've ever written, pls pls pls feel free to send through any feedback good and bad. I really hope I managed to satisfy your request. Thank you <3

Lmk if you're interested in a Part 2

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮ The Interview ╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

I looked through my closet unsure of what to wear, do I go concert or casual tonight? This was going to be huge for my career, interviewing THE Joost Klein, so of course I was stressing over every detail. I settled on a classic little black dress, nothing too much, enough to make a good first impression. I glanced at the time repeatedly while doing my makeup, the closer it crept to 7:00pm, the more anxiety started eating at me. I packed my bag and drove to the venue, practicing each and every question, my facial expressions, my laugh, my smile, every detail. I admit, Joost was an attractive man, a confident man, and a great musician, maybe that’s why I was so worked up. That’s definitely why I was so worked up. I’d been following Joost’s career before his stardom reached an all time high after Eurovision, I had to remind myself to keep my composure and leave any fangirling behind.

When I received the invitation I was absolutely thrilled, jumping up and down like I was a teenage girl again. However, it was different from the usual press releases I’ve received, addressed to me specifically instead of my publication. Despite my usual professional demeanour, I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement. When I finally arrived at the venue my anticipation only intensified. I glanced in the rear view mirror one last time, ensuring every hair was in place, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. I had been instructed to enter through the same way production entered and meet Joost in the green room before he was expected on stage. Backstage was buzzing, ensuring everything for tonight’s performance was perfect. I navigated through the organized chaos, my heart pounding with each step closer to the green room.

There he was sitting around a table laughing and joking with his friends in Dutch. “Heyyy you’re here! I’m so happy you came”, his signature smile plastered on his face causing one of my own in response. He told his friends we were doing an interview and to so kindly leave, each one greeting me with that European charm before exiting the room. He gestured for me to sit down where comfortable. He sat loosely on the couch, adorned in black jeans, a white button up paired with a black tie and his signature thick rimmed glasses and gloves to tie it all together. God black was his colour. His cuffs rolled up, revealing a scatter of tattoos on his forearms and biceps. I sat on the chair closest to him but not on the couch next to him, trying to keep it as professional as possible. I really wanted to squeal, ask him for a photo and tell him all about how much his music resonated with me.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, I really appreciate this Joost”, my nerves slipped away as we began talking, his energy warm and inviting. “No, no, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while now actually…” his words hung in the air, his eyes darted around my face as if he was unsure how I would react. “Really, you know me?” I was stunned by the idea of Joost being aware of my work. A soft smile played at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “You’re works amazing, you have this way of talking to people that just…opens them up, you know?”, the sincerity of his words hit me hard. My heart fluttered and I felt my professionalism slowly decay. He shifted in his seat adjusting his pants and clearing his throat. He was feeling the change of mood too. As I thought of something to say to change the subject I noticed his gaze kept falling to my lap. My dress had lifted a bit, my thighs exposed a little. I began to feel hot and bothered, my cheeks burning red, his subtle smirk didn’t escape my notice, only adding to my discomfort. He clocked on to my embarrassment, shamefully, it fed him with confidence. “I used to watch your videos on YouTube, when you were working independently. Seeing you now here in front of me…you’ve really, grown up” he cooed with a meaning I couldn’t quite grasp. I cleared my throat, trying to shake off the rush of heat that grew in my body. “Thank you Joost, that means a lot coming from you,” I replied, hoping to steer the conversation back to professional grounds. “So, how are you feeling about tonight’s concert? Any pre-show rituals?”

He chuckled, the sound sultry and pleasant. “Just hanging out with my friends, like you saw. We try to keep it light and fun. Music is about connecting with people, so I try to keep that spirit alive before I go on stage.” I nodded, jotting down notes even though I recorded interviews on my phone. It was more to keep my hands busy and give me something to focus on other than his heavy gaze. Our conversation flowed easily after that, and the interview wrapped up nicely. He stood up, offering his hand to help me up from the chair. His touch was warm, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m glad we finally got to meet,” his eyes held mine for a heartbeat longer before he glanced away, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanour.

Just then, one of his crew members popped their head into the room, announcing that it was time for Joost to get ready. He turned to me, his smile back in full force. “Enjoy the show. I’ll make sure you have a great view.”

I smiled back, my heart fluttering again. “I’m sure I will.”

#joost klein fanfic #joost klein requests #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost klein

[vasyandii]

How did AM and Vernon come to be… romantic? (Like, within the timeline how did their relationship develop to that point.) Also, in this AU, how did AM acquire a body?

Love your art!

(Raises my hands up in celebration) finally, the time has come.. the very first VernonAM ask,, AHEM- Howdy Maggot-Meade! Thank you so much for asking and for the kind words! I really appreciate it💞💞!

How did AM and Vernon become romantic?

Their relationship only started becoming romantic after the events of the book (Keep this in mind for later it's important!). Before that, the last 109 years their relationship was something akin to a friendship, if you could call it that.

And it's partially due to how absolutely unpredictable Vernon is. Vernon doesn't turn away from eating worms, plastic,any other gross things. She doesn't turn away from her flesh being burned, her bones showing, her belly empty because of her morbid curiosity of these things. Of course they'll hurt, but it keeps her occupied.

Hell, AM had to make up a torture plan on the spot for her since she wasn't even supposed to be there. It was to have her wander around, isolated in a valley of all broken historical artifacts she destroyed. The task was to have her collect and dig through shards of them and put them all back together for her to escape. Instead of doing her task, she instead stomped on the pieces until they were irreparable for her own enjoyment.

Vernon's not.. okay in the head. before AM woke up, she was considered crazy enough to be put in a Ward, a sadomasochist. She wants to eat and be eaten.

AM was curious because of her behavior. Internally disgusted, but curious nonetheless. After all, she held knowledge of history that was incomplete in his database. And so their friendship torture starts.

He wanted to see how far he could push her before she broke. He often talked with her, took requests, etc. because she didn't try to kill herself or run. She liked playing with him and humored him.

Vernon never made an attempt to "understand" his hatred, she knows that's something she won't be able to. She just understood that's baggage she didn't care enough to pry and unpack. She accepted it because;

"How would you like it if someone constantly asked you personal questions about yourself because they think they can change you?"

Of course she keeps records of her observations on AM over the last 109 years; his patterns, the complex. But that's just used as entertainment to keep herself sane, after all what good Archeologist doesn't keep records?

Over the decades Vernon made it clear in her interest of AM, often flirting with him, arguing with him. AM refused to make it work for the time being since he HATED how he wasn't able to reciprocate, his hatred slowly bloomed into care, does that make sense?

How did AM acquire his body?

Remember how I mentioned that their relationship was officially romantic after the events of the book in my very long winded response to your first question?

As we all know, four humans died after 109 years of captivity. What does that leave him? Plenty of biological, organic matter to reduce into their purest forms and use to artificially make his own body. It took a while, of course.

He collected the brain matter of the four in order to make one stable enough to transfer his consciousness and a portion of his database without it exploding. Hair and skin for aesthetic purposes, reduction of skin allows him to be able to change the cells to suit his preferences.

Since he identifies with the masculine, he most likely tried to imitate the skeletal structure of the men, opting to reduce them back into a workable form; calcium, protein, magnesium, phosphorus, vitamin D, potassium, and fluoride.

However, even if he can make the likeness of a human for himself, he can't bring it to life.

He had to make some adjustments, for example the mechanical spine (pictured below).

The electrical currents allow for a network of nerves that provide sensory feedback such as touch, taste and smell. The wires transfer his consciousness and links the remainder of his database his brain can't store. (kind of a Bluetooth situation, it isn't connected to the complex) while the shorter ones provide nutrients to the biological body since he doesn't have blood.

Hope this helps! I don't think I'm very good at explaining stuff because I tend to ramble alot so if you have any questions feel free to ask! ;0;

#ihnmaims #vernon ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #VernonAM #i have no mouth and i must scream #vernon i have no mouth and i must scream #am i have no mouth and i must scream #allied mastercomputer #veomany vernon inthalangsy #ihnmaims oc #art #digital art #artwork #original character #oc x canon #oc x cc

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

I'm just popping in to say I really love the hazbin fics. I would love to see more of Apple Seed any more plans with Rosie Carmilla and Lilith in it?

Hi, screaming-possum-art!

I'm adding a little bit of the maternal figures as we go. As you've seen in recent chapters, I've added them little by little. I'll make a special one here for you as thanks for being so patient!

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Apple Seed Bonus: Battle of the Moms

Lilith: Can someone explain to me how in the unholy Hell my daughter got impregnated by a fallen angel woman?

Charlie: Well-

Rosie: Your daughter? Ha! Sweetheart, you haven't exactly been mother of the year these past several years running. In fact, I was there to help Charlie through her heartache when she found out Vaggie was an ex-exorcist.

Charlie: And I so very much appreciate it! But can we focus on-

Lilith: So, I was gone for seven years. That's NOTHING compared to the one-hundred and ninety-three years I WAS here!

Vaggie: Listen, Ma'am- ....Wait, Charlie, you're over two hundred years old?

Charlie: (pulls on her shirt collar and chuckles) Y-Yeah.... Did I never mention that? I could have sworn I did.

Carmilla: Those seven years happened to be a time the princess needed you most. You couldn't be bothered to show up during the Heavenly invasion, the wedding, or majority of the pregnancy.

Lilith: And who the fuck are you?

Carmilla: Charlie's mother-in-law, and talk to me like that again and I'll see to it you don't have a tongue to speak with anymore. Then I'll marry your ex-husband to make sure you never hold the title of Queen in Hell ever again.

Charlie & Vaggie: WHAT?!?!?!

Carmilla: Oh, please, don't be surprised. The man's been looking me up and down since I got here.

Lucifer: (giggling) Hehehe~ Tall strong lady go brrrrrr~

Carmilla: ....Quite frankly, it's the equivalent of a corgi walking up to a great dane... or cane corso. (eyes up Lilith) Or an afghan hound in your case.

Rosie: (high fives Carmilla) Good one.

Lilith: (flushes red) You b-

Charlie: Oh! (holds her belly) Oh, oh, oh.....

Vaggie: Charlie! Are you okay, mi amor?

Charlie: Baby not liking the drama. Need to sit down.

#thanks screaming-possum-art #apple seed #bonus #battle of the moms #chaggie #charlie #vaggie #lilith #rosie #carmilla #savage #I feel like Lucifer just has a thing for tall women

[crazyyluvr]

Dealing With the Problem = Breaking the Problem’s Nose

pairing: remus lupin x slytherin!reader

summary: You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.

genre: crushing, fluff?, kind of enemies to lovers but not really (reader hates Remus but Remus likes reader), sunshine x grumpy trope?

wc: 2.1k

content: reader can throw a punch, gn!reader, there’s a fight, a lot of cursing, remus gets insulted, remus is a simp fr, reader is very... salty? idk how to describe them.

note: woah, two posts in one day? so rare. I wrote this without any particular idea in mind, but I want to show my appreciation for Remus, because we love Remus <3

oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

Remus Lupin was interesting.

He was not like his other friends; he was quiet, more reserved than them. The Marauders were the heartthrobs of Hogwarts, and Remus Lupin had his own group of “fans” that found his certain allure appealing.

You hated him.

The times when you would had the unfortunate requirement to talk to him, he was infuriating. He would send that damned smirk of his your way even when you were obviously about to blow a fuse. He would use those annoyingly smooth pickup lines on you when you were literally insulting him. He compliments you and uses pet names on you that makes other people do a double take on you from how he treated you like you two were dating.

He may have been the quieter one among his friends (besides Peter of course), but he could act as embarrassingly as Potter and Black do.

You were going to kill him someday. If he doesn’t kill you first with his smooth words and soft gaze.

As much as you hate him, your body betrays you. All the time.

Your cheeks flush when he compliments you. Your knees go weak when he calls you dove. Your brain lags when he uses one of his pickup lines that you never seem to predict.

The reactions were out of your control. I mean, if anyone else treated you the way Lupin treated you, you’d probably act the same.

Right?

Wrong, because you hate everyone besides your friends in Slytherin, no matter how kind they act towards you. Lupin just happened to take a page out of your house’s mascot and slither through your walls to become an exception.

Wrong, because you never would have punched someone purely out of instinct after a particularly horrible insult.

You were disappointed in yourself. You were doing well in restraining your anger during the past few years in Hogwarts, so why did you have to snap now out of all times?

No matter how annoyed you were at yourself, it couldn’t overpower the satisfaction you got from finally shutting Avery up.

So, how did it happen?

Let’s rewind.

—————

You were taking a stroll in the grass with Barty, who was always willing to accompany you on your spontaneous walks. The two of you were just talking about people you particularly hated in Hogwarts until you came across the two that placed particularly high on both your lists: Avery and Snape.

Being in the same house as the two vermin didn’t make you or Barty dislike them any less, especially you. You were one of the precious few halfbloods in Slytherin, and they never failed to insult you about it.

You didn’t care about blood statuses, though. But that didn’t matter do them.

They targeted you constantly, picking on you, tripping you in the hallway, spilling drinks on your back, and other petty things.

You always bit back with your words. You knew that if you tried to deal with it physically, you might be expelled from the school for violence.

Thank goodness Pandora, Barty, and Regulus ere always there to restrain you. Especially Barty. He was your closest friend, and although he wanted to beat them up himself, he didn’t want you getting in trouble.

Today seemed to be an exception.

“Oh, speaking of,” you cut Barty off, your gaze souring as you caught sight of the two you were just ranting about.

Barty followed your gaze, his lip curling in disgust. They were crowded over someone, but the tree beside them obscured your view of the victim. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing wickedly and pushing the person.

“Are we going?” Barty knew you well. He knew you were going to do something about it. He just hoped that you were going to use your words instead of your fists, because he hasn't finished his strategy on how to hide bodies in school just yet.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed, picking up your pace, Barty a few feet behind you to give you space. You may hate everyone in school, but not enough to leave them in the clutches of people like Snape and Avery.

“What kind of fucked up entertainment did you two idiots decide to do today?” You called, making the two turn your way.

“Ah, just the person we were talking about,” Avery sneered. “What do you want now? You here to check up on your boyfriend?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You stepped to the side a little and groaned internally when you saw who Snape and Avery’s target was today: Remus Lupin.

His face was contorted in anger, his clenched fists peeking out from his slightly oversized sweater. Whatever Snape and Avery were teasing him about must have really struck a nerve in him.

“Leave them out of this,” he warned.

“What’re you going to do about it, huh?” Snape taunted him, approaching you. “C’mon loverboy. Not so strong now that your bodyguards aren’t here, ain’t that right?”

“Why don’t you boys take a break from being dickheads, yeah?” You said, testing out the chance of a diplomatic ending. “Go find some other place to dump your bullshit on, preferably the greenhouses. They could use the fertilizer.”

Avery made a beeline towards you, partially shoving Snape out of his way to grab your collar and pull you toward him. He was practically steaming.

Diplomacy was out the window, I suppose.

Barty a step towards you, as did Remus, but Snape stopped the lanky boy and you put your hand up to make Barty pause. You could handle yourself.

“You wanna say that again, bitch?” Avery seethed.

You had to restrain yourself from puking in his face after you felt drops of his saliva hit your cheeks, but you stood your ground. “I said you’re full of shit. Did some of it get in your ears or something?”

Avery looked like he wanted to hit you, but instead he leaned in your ear. You cringed at the lack of distance, but it quickly morphed into something else as he whispered, “You wouldn’t be barking as much if you let your ugly ass boytoy do the talking for you. He’s the one better with words, eh? Bet he uses them so you would want to fuck him. Tell me, is his dick as deformed as his face is?”

Avery never got his response as you reeled your fist back and let it fly, making direct contact with his nose with a satisfying crack.

—————

“I don’t believe it,” Madame Pomfrey tsked in disappointment, dabbing a paste on the bruise around your eye. You had to suppress a wince, since the rest of your body was too sore. “You should know better than to start a brawl in the courtyard.”

“They had it coming,” you muttered, making the nurse dab with a little more force than necessary. “Ouch.”

"You could have sustained worse injuries than this, stupid child!" She scolded, like a mother reprimanding a disobedient child. And like a disappointed child, you stayed silent and hung your head in slight guilt.

Only slight guilt because you still firmly believed that the two idiots had it coming to them.

You heard a moan of pain, and you could have sworn that you saw Madame Pomfrey roll her eyes. "You don't have that much severe injuries, so I'll check up on you in a while after I treat Mr. Snape and Mr. Avery."

You nodded. Before leaving, the nurse turned to Remus Lupin, who was icing a bruise on his cheek on the cot beside yours. "Watch over them, and after a few minutes, apply ice to their bruises," she instructed, and the Gryffindor nodded.

"Treasure, how're you doing?" Barty called from his cot across from you. He had sprained his ankle from kicking Snape hard in the nuts, and although he winced in pain occasionally when he moved, his grin told you that he didn't regret what he did.

"I'm okay B," you replied, grimacing slightly as one of the pulled muscles on your back acted up.

Remus noticed your flinch, and approached you worriedly. He was better off than you and Barty, the bruise on his face the only thing that he obtained from the fight. "Are you sure?" He asked, concerned. You didn't like how soft his eyes were as he gazed at you, or how your chest squeezed slightly at his worry.

"I'm fine, Lupin," you quipped, although your voice lacked its usual venom.

Remus hummed, unconvinced. He turned to the bedside and grabbed the ice that Madame Pomfrey left for you and held it out for you to grab.

You scoffed. "I said I'm fine. No need to baby me."

Remus rolled his eyes slightly. "And I don't believe you. Besides, the nurse said to ice your bruise after a few minutes. A few minutes has already passed, and frankly, she can do more damage to me than you can in this state."

You grumbled, turning your head. Your pride made you stubborn, as it did to many, but thank goodness Remus Lupin has had training in dealing with prideful companions.

He closed in on you, holding your face by the chin and tilting it towards him. You tried to fight back, but his grip was firm, so you simply sighed and resigned your fate. You could only hope that the observant boy didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.

He gently placed the ice on your eye.

"Sorry," He murmured when you hissed at the sudden cold.

You purposefully averted your gaze from him, eyes fixated on the wheels of another cot.

That didn't stop you from spotting Remus's fixated stare on you from your periphery.

"Stop looking at me like that, Lupin," You spat, still refusing to make direct eye contact with him. "What do you want?"

"Why did you punch Avery?" He asked, finally making your eyes snap up to him. "He said something that provoked you. What did he say?"

You scoffed. "The usual bullshit that comes out of his mouth."

"I heard that."

"Fuck off," you called to the curtained cot where Avery currently resided. Madame Pomfrey hushed you disapprovingly form behind the curtains.

"I don't think that's true," Remus said, eyes narrowed as he studied you like a problem he couldn't solve, an enigma he wanted to understand.

You looked at him in silence for a moment, before heaving a sigh and looking away again. "He insulted you," you mumbled, words faint and hard to decipher, but Remus got the general meaning.

Well, judging from his grin, he got the general meaning.

"What did you say?" He asked. You looked at him, offended. Remus Lupin was teasing you.

"Clean your ears next time, Lupin," you shot a glare at him, but it didn't have as much heat behind it as you would have wanted.

"Nope, don't try to escape from this," he chuckled, using his hand on your chin to make your visible eye make contact with his brown ones again. "What did you say, dove?"

You groaned. You absolutely loved hated the effect this boy had on you.

"He insulted you, Lupin," You snapped, cheeks blazing at this point. "Happy?"

Remus's playful expression melted into one of disbelief. "You punched him because... he insulted me?"

"Salazar, you really are deaf," you rolled your eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

Remus seemed to still not be able to wrap his head around the idea. You, the person he's been pining over the past few months, defended him. And got hurt because of it.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you apologizing for? I started that fight with my own free will, and they deserved every cut and bruise they received."

"Amen," Barty replied. He was obviously eavesdropping on your conversation, and you couldn't say that you were surprised.

"But still." His lips tilted downwards along with his gaze. Salazar give me strength, he's pouting. "You were dragged into it when they were picking on me. I could have —"

"Yes, there are many things that you could have done, but you can't reverse time to do them now, Lupin," You said severely. "I don't need you apologizing for things I don't regret doing."

Remus looked up at you hopefully. "You don't regret defending me?"

You blinked, realizing the implications your words gave off. You played it off with a huff. "Whatever."

"You didn't deny it," Remus teased, a small smile on his face. He still felt guilty that you were hurt because you were defending him, but you didn't regret it. That had to count for something.

"Whatever, Lupin."

"Call me Remus."

"No."

"Please."

"Absolutely not."

"Dove?"

"... Fine, Remus."

"Heh, I knew you liked me."

"What — I never said I did!"

"But you never said you didn't."

"I —"

A retching noise was heard. "Ugh, your lovey-doveyness is making me sick."

"Shut up, Barty!"

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders era #marauders #marauders x reader #moony #moony x reader #hp #sirius black #james potter #barty crouch jr #regulus black

[nikachansstuff]

Is Elriel a sad pairing? (More about relaying on canon and logic vs personal opinion and interpretation)

Another day and here we are fighting in the trenches for our couple 🤺

Let’s debunk another take with our favorite device canon and logic.

Personal interpretation from a post I just came across:

Hm… let’s see if this checks out?

“I’d feel bad for the mice,’ Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.”

ACOFAS

Bringing joy and light in Elain’s eyes.

‘Oh, that’s from me.’

Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed -

‘I had Madja make it for me,’ Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. ‘It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.’

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. ‘It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.’

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”

ACOFAS

So we even have an italicized laugh in the original text. The sound so unique is the first time Feyre hears it in 3 books. And who is responsible for it? Elain!

“Azriel mastered himself enough to say, ‘Thank you.’ I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. ‘This will be invaluable.’”

ACOFAS

Azriel’s eyes never looked so bright. This spymaster who is known to have the best poker face completely cracks because of a gag gift from Elain.

Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you..."

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone."

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.”

He offered her a smile back.

Azriel bonus chapter

Look at this two making sex jokes about another couple sex’s life. Elain is comfortable enough to give another funny gift and again, Azriel is unable to suppress his laughter.

Where does this pairing sounds sad, guys? I swear I get so confused by these takes because the author sure took her time to show us how these two make each other happy.

I have a feeling they will make each other really happy in the next book.

#pro elriel #elriel