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grugruel · 2 months

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The Girl Who Cried Cowboy

Parings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: When drinking too much at one of her father's summer parties, she realises just how inappropriate her feelings are for her fathers best friend. And he has to drive her home.

Word count: 3.2

Warnings: cowboy hat, rough sex, pinv sex, kintchen-counter sex (woooh), doggy, creampie, praise, strong feelings, "I love you", mutual pining, tension, pet names (sweetheart, girl, ma'am, darlin', woman), slight angst, sundress kink, hair pulling.

Low chatter and calm music soothed her, tuning her mind to familiar nostalgia as she faded into memory of old summer nights.

Nights much like this one.

The singing birds, the perfectly temperatured air, and the warm kisses from the last rays of the setting sun.

Her parents' big grass-clad backyard in which she sometimes slept, like now, she enjoyed the infiltrating clovers that softened the ground beneath her.

And the blue open sky that stretched above her like a lustriously painted ceiling. It was deep at this hour, but not dark. Even so, it slowly lightened as it merged into the pastel colors of the horizon.

Her world whirled, stretching and contracting mildly as a slight buzz from her many emptied beers took a pleasant hold of her senses. She smiled, putting the half spilled bottle to her lips once again. Not minding one bit that she had toppled over, rather just loving the way the grass tickled her skin as her sheer sundress bunched high on her thighs. Especially enjoying the way it moved against her nipples, now very glad she'd opted out of wearing a bra today–

'You sure know how to catch my attention, sweetheart.' A voice mused.

She faced its source but already knew who it belonged to, its presence only making her night better. He'd always been her favorite out of her dad's friends.

The sun painted her face a golden orange, as she turned toward him. A tall, blurry figure stood by her side, she squinted, and a handsome cowboy materialised. The shapes forming him steadied. She could make out the gruff hands around his belt buckle, his face, and the cowboy hat on his head. Which was busy shielding his eyes from the sun, their intent gaze observing her from beneath its rim.

She smiled knowingly. 'Buck!' She erupted, throwing her arms upward as if to hug him from the ground, spilling beer all around her in the process. 'Join me.' She giggled, and her arms fell to pat the ground at her sides.

The cowboy shook his head with a chuckle. He had never been able to say no to her.

Her bare, bent knees lulled against his lap as she moved closer to his relaxed form. She took another swig of beer, then pointed at the sky above them.

Towering over their laying forms, the sky held a full moon in its mixing colors, the suns reflection only illuminating its silvery brightness and amplifying the contrasts.

'Ain't it pretty?'

His wandering eyes roamed her face, the alcohol fueled blush that adorned it, and the strands of wild hair that framed her like a canvas. He wanted noting more than to push them behind her ears so he could admire her in full. He willed his eyes from traveling south. He could not, it was unfair to her and her father.

He hummed. 'Sure is.'

She shut her eyes, attempting to collect herself. It must be the alcohol, surely. But she hadn't even had that much to drink, had she? She placed the hat on her head properly. Forgetting herself entierly.

She faced him again, meeting his eyes. He watched the blush expand across her face as she realised it was her that he was talking about. The girl, suddenly shy. Grabbed his hat from his head and covered her giggling face. His charm was dangerous, she couldnt help herself around him. Her face poked out from beneath the hat, eyes studying him carefully as he looked back up at the moon. The colors of the sky and the green of the grass running parallel to his profile. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin placed perfectly in between them, running like a mountain range in a horizon. She got a strong urge the kiss his perfectly handsome face– ugh, fuck. . .

'Buck?'

He hummed.

'Could you drive me home?' She just needed to sleep it off, these feeling would be gone in the morning. She was sure.

He looked back at her. '. . .'Course darlin.' His eyes wandered over his hat, on her head. His lips tightened into a line as he cleared his throat.

The girl nodded. 'Can you tell dad? I hate to leave the party early, but I think I over did the drinkin'. . .' She lied. She wasn't sick, nor drunk, drunk. She just felt too guilty to speak with her dad directly when these types of thoughts ran rampid about his best friend.

Her world devolved into streaks of color as he pulled her to her feet. The booze affected body betrayed her as the footing failed beneath her feet– she collided with his chest, and his quick hands shot to her waist– catching her before she took another tumble. 'Easy there.' His drawl in full effect.

He laughed, but nodded. 'He'll understand, im sure. Your father's a wise man.' And grabbed her shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly. Then stood, and held his hand out for her to take.

Everything whirled around her, everything except him. She could see him perfectly clear. The pair locked eyes, enjoying the feeling of his big hands molding to her waist. Something tugged on them, pulling them closer to each other. Lips brushing, noses touching. She felt dizzy, the pair of them hiding their faces under the brim of his hat. It somehow felt easier. Hands slipping to her hips, squeezing. Their heavy breathing, drinking each other in, and the squeeking of the patio door– in horror they pulled off of each other, akwardness seeping into the space between them. She kept her eyes on the ground as she realised she was wearing his hat. She'd put it on, hadn't she? Oh. . . Fuck– but she had no time to worry about its insinuations right now, and quickly removed it, pushing it back into Bucky's hands.

'Ah, there you both are!' It was her dad, walking in a straight line toward them.

She prayed he hadn't seen anything. As everyone had moved the party inside when the night began to fall.

He slapped a hand on buckys shoulder, greeting him happily.

Thank god, she sighed in relief.

But there was an akward silence, where none of them said much of anything for a second.

'Whats goin' on, who died?' Her father joked, a dry chuckle following it. But a tinge of true uncertainty lingered in his voice as he looked at them with skeptical eyes.

'Im just not feelin' to good.' She scrambled to explain, as bucky scratched his neck, not managing to come up with a good excuse himself. 'I was thinkin' of headin' home. Buck'll drive me.'

Her father gave her a slanted smile and ruffled her hair. 'Yeah? To much to fast?'

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. 'Sorry.'

He tilted his head, searching her eyes. 'Dont apologize sweetheart. Its ok. I'll see ya' later, yeah?'

She nodded again, and he kissed her on top of her head.

She loves her dad, and to prove it she'd almost kissed his best friend. Shame gnawed at her, she couldn't do that to him.

He turned to Bucky. 'You comin' back later then?'

'I'm not sure.' Bucky dared a flicker of a glance in her direction, and lowered his voice. 'Gotta get 'er home first, make sure shes alright.'

Her father nodded, seamingly appreciating the gesture. If he only knew.

'But you'll notice if I turn up.' Bucky laughed, attempting a joke to defuse the situation and playfully hit her father on the arm.

He smiled. 'Well, alright, good then. Drive safe.' The men gave each other a short embrace. 'Thank you, Buck. You're a good friend.' She heard her father whisper as they patted each other on the back warmly.

Guilt, shame, neither could begin to describe what she was feeling. She'd need to invent a new word for it.

The walk to the truck was quiet. The only proof of the life altering almost-kiss was the comforting hand he placed on her back, and now held much more meaning than that in which an old friend once had.

The sun disappeared beyond the distant treeline. A big wheatfield separated it from the dirtroad they found themselves driving down. Trees lined its path, their leafy crowns casting a high overhang above them.

Oh, how stunning, but the window would not wind down. Frustrated, she pushed it repeatedly. Her mind was not wrapping around the fact that it just wouldn't work, pure stubbornness egging her on. As she dared not ask Bucky for help. They'd been riding in silence ever since the encounter with her dad–

'You feelin' any better?' He asked, clearing his throat. The anxious avoidance of speaking had created a croak in it.

She had too much on her mind. She was overheating, just wanting some air. 'I'm fine, just a little warm.' The button was taunting her, no matter how hard she pushed it.

'Just– slow down, doll.' Bucky reached over her seat to unlock the door, then pushed the button to lower the window. Oh. . .

Sweet relief, she leaned her head against the frame of the open window. The freshness of nature and its many scents rolled into the truck in waves of pure air, clearing her mind of what it could. But as it mixed and matched with Buckys own, his perfume and masculine musk, rubbed her senses just right. It began working in the opposite effect.

'Thank you.' She spared him a glance, smiling faintly. Immidietly regretting it as she was reminded of how good he looked in the hat.

His hand fell from the door to her knee. It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, one he'd done may times before. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'

Oh. . But this time, everything slowed, shes sure of it. Flames that should not have sparked inside her were now, in fact, raging. She screwed her eyes shut. Damp breeze, floweres, grass, birds. . . She tried to focus, to think of something else, but– hand, his hand. Moving in slow-motion, squeezing the flesh above her knee. Then, the loss of his touch.

Her eyes shot open, and suddenly, time hastened again– she grabbed his hand and without even thinking, replaced it higher on her thigh. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she felt the cowboys eyes bore into her. God, it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

'Girl. . .' There laid warning in his tone. They were headed into dangerous territory. Yet without heeding his own warning, his fingers dug into her upper thigh, eyes landing on the pushed up skirt of her dress. He grabbed it between his fingertips and pulled it down, exhaling a big breath as if it took everything in him not to do the opposite.

She shook her head in compressed motions, the feeling of his skin was heavenly. His hand alone, without touching any crucial parts of her, set her aflame. Hesitation still lingering in her body as she fought her thoughts.

The car screeched to a halt, they'd arrived at her house. Fuck, thank, god.

She reached for the door, realising in horror that she still held onto his hand. As she made to shake herself free, he entwined his fingers with hers and sighed, knowing full well why she was in such a rush. 'Hold on now, darlin', slow down.' He met her eyes. 'Let me help you down, at least.'

Breathe, she willed herself, and nodded to him. Waiting impatiently for Bucky to open her door. Her world spinning, the real problem was that it simply wasn't alcohol induced anymore.

The door opened, and he gripped her waist, lifting her out in a swift motion. Her skin– well, everything tingled at his touch. He set her down, on steady feet, and unsteady mind. 'We should talk about this.' He tried, following her as she marched toward her door.

'About what? There's nothing to talk about.'

'Darlin'. . .'

'Stop.' She whipped around to face him. 'Just stop. I'm not your darlin', 'N I'm sure as hell not your sweetheart.' She hissed and continued walking. The words hurt her as much as they must've hurt him. God, the walk to her house felt never ending.

'I just– I care for you sweeth–' He stopped, footsteps no longer sounding behind her. '. . .'N I love your father too. I've known him for most of my life. Feeling this way 'bout ya' doesn't come for free.'

Too? He said "too" didn't he?

She turned around. 'Too?' Her knees felt weak, her mind muddled by conflicting thoughts of her father and the man in front of her. And he was quite a sight, the picture of a cowboy in fact. Putting weight on one leg, he held his belt, and his hat covered his face as he tilted it down in silent brooding. How she imagined all cowboys did.

He sighed. 'Well–' shoulders shrugging. 'What'ya expect, beautiful as you are. Inside 'n out.' He walked up to her. His hand reached for her face. She should back away. She knew she should, but her feet wouldn't move. The backs of his fingers stroked strands of hair from her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone, his touch gentler than any man before him.

He laid his forehead against hers. 'I love y–'

She kissed him. He could not utter those words. Not yet. This was not the time.

Electricity shocked her nervous system. She could feel his hunger as he cupped her face, deeping the kiss. Yet, his needy lips slowed themselves for her sake, her uncertainty.

She pulled free, gasping for breath as she had forgotten it was a necessity and grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. Eyes looking back at him, speaking more than words ever could. It was just the matter of interpreting them.

He stood leaning against her kitchen counter, observing her as she sauntered toward him. Dress billowing around her thighs. Was this really happening?

He reached for her, laying his hands at her waist and taking the fabric of her dress between his fingers, pulling her toward him. 'I really do, you know.'

Her hand reached up to comb through his hair. 'Save it.' She smiled, her other hand sliding over her dress, stopping at her waist where the bow that tied the dress together was. Slowly, as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She pulled on the string, letting it come undone, and her dress fell open.

Bucky made a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely daring to take his eyes from hers. 'I'm at your mercy, sweet girl. Tell me what to do.' He breathed, eager fingers waiting for her approval.

His words were setting butterflies to flight. Her free hand grabbed his, and led it between the fabric of her dress and her body. Laying it atop her breast. 'Touch me.' She whispered.

Shivers, shivers, and goosebumps spread in waves over her chest as his fingers came in contact with her soft flesh.

She advanced, and he obliged her request as his other hand ran down her side, snaking around her back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer against his chest.

'Please. . .' He pleaded. 'I need to feel you.' His hands squeezed her breast, producing a whimper from her lips. 'Taste you.' He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, lining her bottom lip with his tongue. 'Anything, anything you're willin' to give me.'

Her brows furrow in tortured pleasure. Waves of pressure inside her that had no outlet, nowhere to go except to her core and mind. Her thoughts were mere static at this point, all of them reduced to neurons.

'Take all of me. . . All at once.' She exhaled, the air that they exchanged with one another merged into one unisome breath.

A pained grunt. 'You sure?' He grabbed his hat to remove it.

She grabbed his hand, stopping. 'You better keep that hat on,' she warned, then nodded. 'And, im sure.' She looked into his eyes. 'Now. . . fuck. me.' She demanded.

With that, he grinned and spun her around, pressing her up against the counter. Hips colliding with the countertop in a hard thud, but she did not care. All she wanted was him, and for this short moment when they were together, truly together, her father could be damned.

His hands ran up the side of her thighs, hiking her skirt onto his wrist, and flipped it over her ass. She groaned in pain. 'Can't wait any longer, hurry up.'

'Easy girl. . ' He slowed her as he tugged her pretty lace panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her. 'Stunnin'. . '

Her mind fogged, she disappeared for a moment, not really thinking about what was happening until she heard his belt buckle and then, finally. She felt him.

His hand moved to her hip as the other aligned his tip with her entrance, and without any more thinking and delaying, he pushed inside.

A mix between a whimper and a moan pushed its way out of her lungs. 'Fuck, yes.'

Her hands braced against the countertop, protecting her hipbones against the hard surface as he began thrusting.

But it wasn't enough. 'C'mon cowboy, harder.' A moan and breath combined into one.

His hand slid up her back, unintentionally tickling her the entire way. He grabbed her hair and circled it around his fist, then held her steady as he pushed himself into her even rougher.

'Mmmh. .' She hummed. But she needed more. She'd waited so long for this that she'd be damned if there wouldn't be bruises to remember him by. 'You can do better. . Mhh- fuck.' She moaned, struggling to get her words out as he bent over her, his thrusts reaching even deeper. He leveled his head with hers, and bit into her shoulder. His blissfull muffled moans made right at her ear, and along with them came the hot puffs of breath and the dirty sounds of slapping skin. Everything scratched the nervous center in her brain, just right. 'Yeah. . . Like that, mhm. . Show me how much you, uh-huh. –need me.' She managed, her words stuttering and stumbling.

'Feels so good.' He groaned. 'My darlin' girl.'

She no longer protested. She was his, in every sense of the word. And she loved it

'Yours, just yours.' She breathed.

'Good girl.' He moaned, obviously approving of her recognition.

She could not take much more. '. . 'M close Buck.'

He nodded, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She could barely make out his nodding against her shoulder in response. He must be close, too.

'I need to see ya' girl– wanna see ya'. . . See ya' cum.'

She couldn't answer. She only moaned in approval. But it was enough for him. His swollen member had her walls clenching, sucking and squelching around his member. Pulling him closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled out of her, spun her around, and lifted her by the hips onto the counter. His strength would never, not turn her on. And without missing a beat, slammed back into her again. 'Fuck! Just like that cowboy.' She cried. Their lips meeting in needy, rushed movements as they both approached their climax. Knots tightening, pressure building, and pressure realising.

In blinding hot waves, pleasure coursed through her as her orgasm finally arrived. 'Oh, girl. .' he moaned, sounding close to a whimper as it was uttered against her lips and into her mouth. 'My good, good girl.'

Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so badly. But Bucky got there first, as he too came. Tears of joy and pleasure fell down his cheeks as powerful spurts of seed filled her core, and he collapsed to his knees. Throwing his arms around her hips, his head lulled into her lap.

'I love you.' He murmured, kissing her thighs in slow, sloppy kisses. Lovingly holding his arms tightly around her, afraid she'd disappear. He uttered, 'I love you.' Over and over again, between and during his kisses, it did not matter to him. He just needed to say it, and for her to hear it.

She watched him with awe, how could she never have known, or felt– not even seen a glimpse of the man before her, a man that worshipped her in this way. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and nape soothingly as she smiled. Heart filled to the brim, for him.

'I love you too, Buck.' She whispered. 'Love you terribly, I think have for a long time, cowboy.'

He looked up at her, his chin resting on her knees as she slumped back against the cabinets, both catching their breaths. 'You'll be the death of me, woman.' Another tear rolled down his cheek, but there was no sorrow. Only proof of powerful stimulation, along with long pent-up feelings and needs.

She jumped off of the counter. 'Need ya' once more, before you head back.'

He grabbed her wrist and kissed his way up her forearm from his place on the floor. 'Yes, ma'am.'

She laid an index finger under his chin, tilting his face upward so their eyes could meet. 'Good. . .' She lifted the hat from his head, and placed it on herself with a smile. '. . .'Cause I still gotta ride ya'.'

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky smut #bucky x femalre reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanficition #bucky imagine #cowboy!bucky #dbf!bucky #smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic

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astraystayyh · 2 months

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seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary. fluff and softness. pre-established relationship. (happy (very late) birthday to youuu my @starsandrqindrops i love u 💓)

there is an uncharacteristic tiredness that’s weighing on seungmin’s bones, making the mere act of moving his limbs draining. a faint headache pulsates from the base of his temple, and he shuts his eyes closed, forcing darkness to surround his senses, hoping that it’ll muffle the ache latching to his being.

but what soothes his senses is the sound of running water, more so the knowledge that you are near, just out of reach. you’ll come out soon of the shower and seungmin will be okay.

he doesn’t voice these thoughts to you as you come into the room, towel in hand as you dry your hair, clad in one of his old t-shirts. but his body seems to speak for him, eyes snapping open at the sound of you padding to the bed, spine readjusting so he’d sit against the headboard, eager to look at you more intently.

“tired?” you ask, planting a kiss on his temple before retrieving your hair bush from the bedside drawer. the pain in his head subsides, your existence the antidote for all his ailments.

“no, how was your day?” he asks softly, his warm palm resting on your bare knee. you quickly glance at him, at the way his eyebrows scrunch together ever so slightly, as if begging you to speak, to weave the dreadful silence with your sweet voice.

“it was good, i tried a new restaurant today,” you speak gently, combing slowly through your hair.

“yeah, what is it called?” he says, thumb circling your soft skin. he is no longer angry at the light, for it highlights every contour of your features. he no longer yearns for the dark, as in its absence he gets to see you. in all your ordinary glory.

and you look so beautiful.

“blossom, they have the cutest pastries. i think you’d really like their cheesecake. it’s decorated with edible flowers. and their coffee is to die for,” you recall excitedly, your eyes locking on his every now and then.

“mm,” he says absentmindedly, laying his head atop your lap. “what else did you do?”

“i had the most boring class today, you know the one with…” your voice fades into the background of seungmin’s mind, lingering like a sweet dream that doesn’t disappear even after you wake.

he’s focused on your bare face, and the way your lips move with each word you utter, he sees your gleaming eyes, radiant under the light, although unnecessary— the star you harbor for heart enough to lighten you up. he sees your hair settling into the curls he loves the most, wet droplets falling into your shirt—his. he sees the slate of your nose that he loves to peck and the cheeks he always cradles before sleeping. he sees you, at your most vulnerable state, at your most beautiful one, and he loves you. god, does he love you so much.

“are you even listening to me?” you giggle, running your hand through his black hair, the one you dyed between giddy kisses in the bathroom.

“you are so pretty,” he whispers, voice suddenly hoarse with emotion. he doesn’t know where this love tide came from, but he knows that the weariness is gone, that a warmth only you can produce has replaced it.

your cheeks are no longer devoid of color, a faint pink hue seeping through them. you smile, widely, with no hand before your mouth, no intent to hide from him. “i love you, you are the pretty one.”

“i know,” he smiles cheekily, further burying his head in your lap, arms wound around your legs. “keep talking.”

“what am i? your asmr podcast?” you chuckle, leaning down to press a kiss on the crown of his head. his headache is long gone.

“yes, you are mine. only mine, right?” he adds, a bit vulnerably, voice weaker.

“only yours.”

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #seungmin x reader #seungmin fluff

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celestialwhoree · 2 months

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🎀💞

I just know that Simon Riley wants his face sat on🤭

nsfw below the cut 🪷 mdni

You'd always been a little shy when it came to sex, understandably so considering that your boyfriend was a real life Adonis, some kind of cruelly beautiful deity come to taunt you for your prudishness. Obviously, you and Simon had done it, you'd fucked countless times when he came back from deployments or frustrated from debriefings gone bad, but it was always, for lack of a better word, tame. You'd always assumed, given his past, that he wouldn't be down to have sex, period. The beginning of your relationship was a minefield of navigating boundaries and understanding the complexity of the beautiful man you got to share your bed with. What you foolishly failed to recognise, however, is that whist you subconsciously saw Simon as wounded, he saw your fragility as clear as day, like a ripple under the surface of clear water.

He'd aways been so impossibly gentle with you, even when you'd wanted things differently, too afraid to ask him and send Simon spiralling back into that dark place he'd only recently been pulled from.

"Want you to fuck my face." Simon's deadpan voice snaps you from your reverie, brings you back to where you lay sprawled and waiting in the centre of your shared bed.

"I'm sorry?" You barely manage to splutter, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at where he sits patiently between your knees, not even needing to look down to your panties to know that your cunt is already dripping.

"Fuck, love." The sound of his exasperated sigh makes you feel like you've done something wrong, but the almost pained crinkle of his eyes confuses you. "You need me to spell it out? I'd like you to sit on my face and let me eat you out." Simon's words make you choke, jaw hanging agape as you process the fact that not only is he willing to take such a step in your sexual relationship, but also that he's so seemingly comfortable with the idea of you essentially fucking his face. Sure, he's eaten you out before, but never in such a compromising way. "Are you -" A soft kiss being placed to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is enough to silence you as you look down at Simon practically grovelling between your legs.

"If you don't want to, you can say no, baby." "It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want to - fuck." You huff, slumping back against the mattress with a sigh as you struggle to find the words you need to express the way you feel. "You don't want to fuck?" He smirks wickedly at you, one hand still cradling your outer thigh as he presses his cheek to the warm skin, trying to lighten the mood. Ease you up a bit. "Simon." "Tell me what you're thinking. I'll make it make sense." God he's always so unbearably patient. It almost has you in tears.

"I just - I'm not so confident with stuff like that, you know? I mean it took us six months of having sex for me to even feel comfortable enough to ride you. Now you want me to sit on your face?"

Simon's eyes soften at your reasoning, and he practically drags himself up the bed until he's face to face with you, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at your face, so beautifully flushed and bashful.

"If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but I need you to know, that I look at you and get hard okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've seen. Ever. If I died by being suffocated between your legs? Fuckin' kill me already, yeah?"

His words have you giggling softly as you play with his hair, distracting yourself from the burning arousal in the pit of your tummy.

"Okay." You nod, slowly, meeting his eye to make sure that he sees you're serious. "You don't have to say yes if you're not sure." "I'm sure, but can we go slow?" "Of course, baby. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with."

It doesn't take long for you to be sat nervously on Simon's hips, clothes piled on the floor, discarded in order for you to sit naked atop him, bottom lip pulled nervously between your teeth. "Do I just -" You point awkwardly between the general vicinity of your cunt to Simon's face, heart fluttering when you catch the way he gazes up at you like some sort of statue, some masterpiece. "Mhm." He nods slowly, pupils blown impossibly wide, the chocolate of his gaze turning almost entirely black. You feel his massive palms take your hips, guiding you up to your knees before settling your slick cunt just over his face.

"Sit." He grunts when he doesn't immediately feel the press of you against his mouth, his nose barely touching your puffy clit. "What if I hurt you?" "I'll let you know. Now, sit." Before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving you gasping at the suddenly overwhelming sensation of his entire lower face stuffed against your pussy.

"Holy sh-" You whine, already beginning to roll your hips in search of stimulation, all whilst Simon gives a contented hum which rumbles through you and has you clenching around nothing. His hands guide your hips in their rhythm as his tongue licks a flat stripe between your wet folds, leaving you stuttering and your eyes rolling back, all whilst you grip onto his hair like of you let go he'll disappear entirely.

He sets a languorous pace with his tongue, eating at you like you're his final meal, hands digging firmly at the meat of your ass whilst he uses the slight bump at the bridge of his nose to press up against your clit, making you dizzy. Whilst he uses both hands to guide you, you use the hand not tangled into his hair to roll a hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, the sensation going straight to your pussy and making you gasp. Simon, perceptive as ever, notices your want and pushes his tongue inside you to push just that little bit further - and he can tell that you're close by the way your thighs clench around his ears and the fact that you're wonderfully more vocal than usual.

Similarly, sensing your oncoming orgasm, you desperately attempt to pull yourself off of him, all of a sudden shy about cumming on his face like you haven't done it countless times before. Your wriggling is met with a small slap to your ass which has you seeing stars as the small sting snaps the elastic band stretching taut in your lower belly, and Simon laps up every bit that you'll give him.

"Didn't think that men like me got to go to heaven." Simon sighs when you both lay sprawled and happy in bed together.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I did not intend to write 1.1k of smut when I opened my laptop this evening but boundaries and communication are just so !! sexy !!

N e ways I'll just leave this here for y'all💕

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ackermonie · 5 months

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“listen. i’m telling you again. we’re NOT telling her i got you that lego set for winning that fight, am i clear?”

megumi nods with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest. “i don’t think she’s gonna be as mad as you think she will be. this isnt the first time this happens, you know?”

“regardless, the lego set remains unmentioned,” satoru points at megumi with a serious index finger, to which megumi rolls his eyes again as he resumes setting the dining table. “the tone of her voice on the phone said she’s coming for blood. i don’t wanna be on her bad side.”

“oh? so you set me up instead?!” megumi lets go of the plates to cross his arms over his chest. “is the strongest really such a scaredy-cat, now?”

“i’m not scared!” satoru is offended, even though he’s about to piss his pants. “and I wasn’t the one that decided that beating up 8 fucking kids on one go was the brightest idea ever, was i?”

“but you rewarded me for it!”

“he did what?”

the two of them freeze in their place, eyes widening as they hold each other’s gazes, too scared to look at the source of the voice coming from the kitchen entrance.

they stay quiet for a solid amount of seconds, and you remain unmoving. gojo gestures for megumi to look at you first, to which megumi replies with a subtle shake of his head, a thin sheet of sweat breaking on his forehead.

“i asked a question.”

thunder is rumbling, and when gojo decides to, very slowly, shift his gaze to you, it’s a scene right out of a horror movie when lightening strikes and thunder rolls on cue. you’re standing at the entrance, drenched from head to toe, a cut or two fresh on your face. your uniform remains unscathed, save for the water dripping to make a little damp pool beneath your feet.

“you’re home early, sweets,” gojo tries to approach, but you pin him in place with a glare. his nervous grin gradually falls from his face. “how was the mission?”

he hears footsteps approaching quickly, and when tsumiki comes to a halt behind you, seeing the state you’re in, she begins to slowly retreat despite satoru’s look of despair at her.

“you rewarded him.” you echo megumi’s words. the 14 year old swallows hard, eyes sliding from you to the suddenly more interesting kitchen sink. “he almost gets expelled, and you reward him.”

“but he didn’t get expelled!” satoru chuckles cheerfully. “he apologized, and all! didn’t you, megumi?” he nudges the teenager’s shoulder pushing him a bit forwards so he can take some of the impact himself. he lowers himself a bit to mumble to him through his teeth. “who’s the scaredy -cat now, huh?”

“I-i—“

“i leave the house for a couple of days— not even a couple, this was a day and a half, and i have to wrap my mission up quickly because my son’s being turned into a delinquent with his dad’s support?”

it takes satoru a couple of seconds to register the words that just came out fo his partner's mouth. he immediately looks at the flustered teenager by his side, to find a light blush on his cheeks and neck.

something warm settles behind gojo's ribcage. it was never addressed, that they're practically family. the only d word megumi calls gojo is dick, but fuck, by the look on megumi's face, the way his skin is painted pink, he knows that the seemingly stoic kid feels the same.

satoru doesn't even think you realize the way you addressed them.

tsumiki peeks her head from behind you. there's a sweet smile growing on her sweet face that he catches. he tries not to smile, he really does, but something in his demeanor is shattering right before his eyes.

"satoru!" you raise your voice, a frustrated frown painting your features, but all satoru feels is the love spreading through his body, his fingertips buzzing with it and all. "this is not rewardable behavior!"

"don't be mad at him..." megumi mumbled, finally taking a step forward. your gaze shifts to him, but he's looking anywhere but you. "he only wanted to cheer me up. this is my fault."

your eyes can't help but soften. gojo watches the change of expression in awe.

"if it helps, they were bullies." satoru chimes in a much softer voice, matching the look on your face. he ruffles the boy's hair, who doesn't push his hand away for the first time in a while. "it's just that megumi here has his own way of doing good. peculiar," gojo pauses with a little laugh when the teenager finally pushes his hand away grumpily. "but he's still doing good."

you finally spot the scar on his cheekbone, one that's already been tended to by satoru it seems, but you still walk across and hold his cheeks in your hands to check it out. its really not that deep, but something still tugs at your heart.

and satoru is still watching the changes of your expression, taking note of every little one. he knows you all too well, you see, and he knows that you're about to start tearing up any second now.

"why don't you guys go fetch angry mom here a towel or two?" he addresses the children, grabbing your wrist to let go of megumi, who looks too guilty for his own good right now. he brings you closer to him instead. "I'm afraid she'll only be grumpier if she catches a cold."

megumi hesitates, but tsumiki calls for him, understanding the cue better than her younger brother.

once they were both out of sight, gojo chuckles in endearment when you shove your face in his chest, uncontrollable tears escaping past your heavy lids. he grabs your head with one hand while the other holds you to him, soaked and all.

"oh baby," he sighs. he doesn't think he's ever been happier than this moment right here. "you just called him my son."

you punch him right in the gut. he groans out in pain, but his hold never wavers on you. "he is your son."

"i think we both prefer the name long-term pain in the ass, but that will do." he raises your head to look at him, and when he sees that red nose and tears down your cheeks, he can't help but giggle some more. "god, you're literally the best thing to ever happen to me."

"shut up." your cheeks burn in his hands, and you're unable to look away. "I was so scared something had happened to him. i would've never forgiven myself."

"the fuck do you take me for?" satoru fakes offense, raising an eyebrow down at you. you roll your eyes at him, from which he takes even more offense, letting you go with a scoff of disbelief. he dramatically removes his sunglasses and crosses his fingers in front of him. "I'll hollow purple your ass so hard right now and you'll never live to tell the tale."

"sure, honey," you pat him on the chest with one hand and wipe away your tears with the other, beginning to turn away from him with a, now more subtle, eye-roll. "whatever you say."

he grabs you and pulls you flush to him again, this time capturing your lips in a sweet, chaste kiss that has your whole body letting loose right there in his arms. your arms wrap around his neck like a reflex, and he squeezes you into him, a dull ache beating in him to just merge your bodies into one,, to have you in his very bones, and maybe even then it wouldn't be quite enough.

"i would rather be torn in two than let something happen to any of you," he breaks away from the kiss to peck your nose. you look into his eyes, and it worries you just how true his statement is. "what else do I have to fight for?"

=====================================

more?

#ackermonie writes #megumi IS gojo's son i dont make the rules #i hate u gege #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo hurt/comfort #megumi fushiguro #gojo comfort #kid!megumi

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cursingtoji · 7 months

Text

𓆩𖥟𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑 — Geto is a thoughtful leader who uses visual resources to help his followers learn, and tonight you get to play a part. #Cult-tober.

< Part 1 - Contradiction

— cw: religious imagery but no specific religion, exhibitionism, emotional manipulation, god complex, public nudity, fingering, unprotected, oral (f -> m), sex cult behaviour. 3k words.

— note: did my research on cults for this one, also based on this request.

“Come here” you hear his voice after calling your name, the tone gives you chills.

You know better than to fear him, this is not the first time he calls you to the main room of the temple — a place that has become the closest thing you can call a home now. This room in particular is already very known to you, so why the fear? Can’t you remember the familiar feeling of the tatami under your knees? What about against your cheek? Wasn’t worth the pain of having your face rubbing on it while your master roughly thrusted into your behind? You do recall his pitiful smile when he realized what the mat had done to the soft skin of your face, right? He kissed it so tenderly while holding you like you were made of glass, a glass he didn’t mind breaking a few minutes prior to that, but now, glass.

So what’s wrong now?

Except for the dozens of followers sitting on their knees in that same room right now. How come you never saw that many people before? And more importantly, why are you seeing them now?

A few hours ago, he left you two things along with a note with the time and place you had to be. Those things are: a sheer black lace mask, very delicate fabric meant for your eyes, the type of thing you could picture a woman using in a ball in the 1800s, and a yukata, a simple one. You thought it was weird he didn’t leave an obi — the belt to tie up the yukata, so you took one from your own drawer to complete the traditional piece.

The mask is clearly not part of it, but you know better than to question him. Besides, the note is clear, you must wear nothing but those things. Nothing.

The room you thought you knew now seems strange and gloomy, it’s nighttime so there’s only a few candles lightening it up, there’s an essence burning somewhere the smell is weak but it’s there.

Geto in all his glory sits in his altar, his feet are up in the mat, unlike everyone else sitting on their legs. He has the pose of a deity and clearly that is what everyone thinks too.

Your bare feet touch the tatami, slowly approaching the altar and feeling the dozen pairs of eyes upon you, the offsetting lighting doesn't allow you to see their faces, which is probably for the best, yet Geto’s was lit up as if the sun itself rose for him and him only.

“Look at her, when I met her she was sick, this beautiful lady had a disease. I tried to look away, she was too far gone, but what did I do instead, sweet child?”

“You saved my life” you respond without batting an eye, your mind feels cloudy.

“Kneel” you obey taking place beside him.

Maybe he is a deity after all.

Just that day you were having a conversation with the twins. They had so many questions, especially after seeing you hurt by some curse, so many why’s leaving their little mouths.

“It doesn’t matter!” your voice rose for the first time since taking them in your embrace “If Geto-sama says it’s day and the sky is dark, it’s day. If he says it’s night when you can see the sun, you go to bed because you sleep when it’s night, understood?”

Sometimes you barely recognize the voice that leaves your lips. Scolding is something you never saw yourself doing, not to the girls you loved more than anything.

In your situation one would assume this behavior is driven by fear, what would Geto do if he found out your girls were questioning his actions? They cannot possibly care more about this non-sorcerer in front of them. Never.

But those people would be wrong. Fear does make you do what you do. Love does.

Only love makes you stay put in front of him when he unties your yukata, love has you looking him in the eye even while the disapproval for the presence of the obi is evident.

Geto makes you sit facing him, his stunning image much more welcoming than the unlighted audience, he’s big enough for you to understand can still see the quiet crowd behind you. His calloused hands touch your shoulders under the yukata, the soft touch is enough to warm up your entire body as he slowly revells a skin decorated by some few bruises, some caused by curses, some caused by gods, well… one god.

“She’s still not cured, I don’t know if she’ll ever be” he doesn’t have to project his voice too much in the quiet room, the hot breathing fans over your face, “But I’ll keep trying nevertheless” he says more quietly.

Geto’s hand goes between your legs and you have trouble keeping your sounds to yourself. His hand is big, and the space between your closed legs — while you’re still sitting on them — and your core is narrow, Geto has to be a little rough to get where he wants to.

And he always gets what he wants.

Your face is warm, breathing erratically but still… you’re not panicking even given the disturbing setting. It’s all due to him, if it was anyone else you would be screaming right now, fighting your way out of this.

Geto starts to stroke your folds with his fingers while talking about sins, the best thing you can do is shut your little brain from overthinking everything he says and taking it as personal.

However, what is left to do when he keeps going on and on about undeserving ones while teasing your fluttering hole? You can’t even look him in the eye, just keep staring his throat as he speaks. Your gasp interrupts him when he inserts a finger, both your hands to your mouth, you were distracted enough to forget this was obviously the next step.

Geto snaps his eyes back to you, not glad about the interruption, yet he resumes his speech so he can go on with his plans.

Your hands remain on your closed mouth, not wanting to make the same mistake again. Geto adds another finger and starts scissoring you, which worries you slightly, you thought this was merely a play for the followers, an exhibition of power, but the stretching he’s doing indicates he plans to go all the way. That and the erection under his haori, which you should’ve led you to suspect his intentions from the beginning since he’s never presented himself to his followers without all the layers of his traditional clothing.

Geto removes his fingers, straightening his posture as he finishes his sentence, he pats his lap and you find his eyes, they are predatory, from then on you’re dealing with Geto-sama, not Suguru.

You’re already undoing the ropes that tie his haori just like he did to you a few minutes ago. He’s bare under the fabric, dick is tall and hard, the leaking tip shines under the orange glow of the candlelight as you align it with your entrance.

“If you can’t control your urges, they’ll control you” he claims, hands behind your knees, his voice is steady but the grip he has on you tells it’s hard to control himself too.

“No person or thing should control you… except for me” the last part is whispered for your ears only. You bottom out on him, needing a moment to recover, not just from the stretch on your lower half but from his words and by how willing you are to let him control you.

Especially when he puts his hand on your head, pressuring slightly guiding you to his neck. He keeps his hand there, caressing your hair as you relax on his hold, like he’s comforting someone who's just lost a dear relative, not a simple villager he spared and is now balls deep inside dozens of followers.

With a sharp pinch on your thigh Geto signs you to start moving, you arch your back and raise your hips to slide out of his cock till only the tip is left then sitting back. Since the yukata was not fully removed, it stays on you, sleeves pooling on the middle of your arms, the rest serves as a curtain, keeping the audience from viewing the junction of you and your savior.

You busy your mouth by kissing and sucking his neck, he gives your hair a discreet pull, a warning to not mark him, guess it would be bad for his reputation if his beloved sorcerers find out he’s whipped by a good-for-nothing human.

All they know — as far as Geto is concerned —, is that you’re his little pet, kind of a 3 for the price of 2 after he took in the twins, a package deal he simply had to accept.

Whatever, you don’t care about them anyways. As long as they’re treating your girls as one of their own, it doesn’t matter how they treat you. Geto, Mimiko and Nanako are all you need to be content with your life.

Geto should limit himself from touching you, his fingers shouldn’t be tracing the little marks and scratches on your back.

“You are not perfect, mistakes will happen, that’s why you need someone to guide you” he talks to the audience, his chin resting on your shoulders as the tip of his fingers run over each trauma and imperfections on your back. At this point — with his dick reaching such a sweet spot inside your walls —, you are not sure if he’s still indirectly talking to you, but something makes you think he’s talking to himself, about you.

Is it such a delusional thought? That you are the one guiding him and not the other way around? You thighs clench around him, the awkward feeling in your chest start to bring clarity to your pleasure blurred mind and you start to look around reflecting on your situation.

Geto relizes something switched in your dumb little head, you do that sometimes, look around with wide eyes and heavy breathing. Suguru remembers the days in jujutsu tech, when he was confused, consumed by the trauma and unsure about his future. Why did you make him remember that? Your chest is rising rapidly, he doesn’t want you to panic, that’s not supposed to happen under his watch.

You’re taken from his lap.

“You love me, don’t you?” Suguru holds your chin bringing your focus to him, only him. You nod slowly, admiring his sculpted face by the candlelight, “Then what are you afraid of?”

You search your mind for all the reasons to be afraid right now, shouldn’t be hard, all you need is to look around and remember why you’re here.

Yet his hazel eyes don’t allow you to find any of those reasons, somehow your heart doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

“Don’t you trust me?” he rubs your chin and you nod again, “Show me” you blink confusingly, “Show me how much you love me.”

You’re sitting on your knees as your eyes trail down where his member is still hard, it glistens with your juices and throbs slightly, the sight is too irresistible.

So you bow to your savior, taking him fully into your mouth, the position giving the closest thing to a privacy moment, where you could pretend it’s just you and Suguru like in the late nights in his chamber.

“There you go” he sighs happily patting your head, not putting any pressure, like what you’re doing is not sexual at all.

It’s merely a form of adoration. And Geto deserves being adored.

Naturally, you take him as deep as you possibly can, focusing your best in worshiping every inch of his skin, putting as much love into it as you can, not even minding the emptiness on your lower half or how you’re dripping on the mat.

There’s a buzz in your ear, you know Geto is talking, finishing his speech probably, but you can’t actually hear him, feels like hearing someone talking from a distance.

The last thing you remember is the hot shot on the back of your throat and the member twitching in your mouth. You think you heard Geto moan, which brings a weird feeling in your stomach since, as far as you know, you’re supposed to be the only one to hear that. His thumb goes to your chin, whipping the saliva and cum, pushing you to release him, you do, but you keep kissing his soft length until the smell of him mixed with the candles and something only this room had made you black out.

Phenomenal.

A word that resumes what Geto thinks about your performance tonight. If he gave you a script it wouldn’t have played out so perfectly.

Sometimes Geto underestimates how willing you are to be controlled by him.

When everything is done, he takes you into his arms, after wrapping the Yukata back around your body, he raises to his feet and steps down from his small stage carrying you.

There’s a door behind the stage, passing the curtains, which he usually uses as entrance and exit. Yet that night he feels like walking through the audience, with a pretty little thing unconscious on his mighty arms and a bunch of loyal followers bowing on his feet he experiences being, truly, a god.

#— cult-tober #geto x reader #geto x female reader #geto suguru #suguru x y/n #cult leader!geto #geto smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

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moonstruckme · 17 days

Note

hey lovely! if you’re up to it, would you be able to write something w james or remus with comforting a reader who’s insecure about her skin/having broken out? i’m totally not projecting (i get chronic rashes on my face and one broke out recently and it’s making me sooo self conscious because my birthday is soon and i wanted to feel pretty 😖)

thank you!! mwah!!!

xoxo @mareagirls

Hi Rosa my love! Thank you for requesting and happy early birthday!!

cw: reader is insecure about her skin

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 750 words

You scrub at your skin with your fingertips, pads pressing harshly as you distribute the cleanser over your face. Then turn the tap as cold as it can go, splashing water and scrubbing again to make sure the product is all gone.

“Alright, enough of that,” says Remus as you towel your face dry. You look up to see your boyfriend watching you in the mirror from the bedroom. He tents his book beside him on the bed, beckoning you over. “Come here, bring your stuff.”

You turn around to look at him. “Why?”

You can see Remus intentionally smoothing the pique from his expression, gentling it into something kinder. “Just come sit with me, please.”

You gather your things off the bathroom counter, carrying them into the bedroom and plopping down in front of him on the bed. Remus knows your routine. He takes a washcloth from you wordlessly, wetting it with product.

“Close your eyes.”

You do, and he starts swiping the product gently over your skin, starting at your jawline and working his way slowly upwards, following the planes of your face. His free hand is wrapped loosely around the side of your neck to steady the both of you.

“Why are you doing this?” you murmur, trying not to move your face as you speak.

“Couldn’t stand seeing you look so angry with yourself,” Remus replies, matching your volume. His voice is low and raspy, inlaid still with traces of frustration. You hadn’t realized you had been looking like that. “S’like you’ve no idea how pretty you are.”

There’s a thick pause. The washcloth shushes over the skin of your forehead, and you can feel Remus’ gaze boring into your shuttered lids.

“I know you think I just say that,” he says, setting the washcloth down on your leg. You open your eyes, and he’s squirting moisturizer onto the pad of his index finger. His eyes flit up to yours, the color of honey or perfectly steeped tea. You look away. “I don’t. I wouldn’t bother saying anything if you weren’t as lovely as you are, and it’s insane that you don’t know it yourself. I mean, we’re looking at the same face, aren’t we?”

Your lips twist upwards as you close your eyes and Remus sets his hands to your face again. He smooths the moisturizer into your skin with thorough, loving strokes.

“I do feel pretty, sometimes,” you admit. “Just not so much when my skin is acting up like this.”

“Not sure how that changes anything.” His voice is gruff, audibly judgemental in the way you’re sure only he can manage. It coaxes a soft laugh from you, and Remus’ thumb swipes extra affectionately over your cheekbone, approving. His tone lightens. “Really, dove, it’s not like the rest of you just disappears because you’ve broken out. You’re just as lovely. I’m not sure anything could change that, short of reconstructive surgery I suppose.”

You roll your eyes. They’re still closed, but you hope he sees the motion anyway. “You’re being too nice to me. I know it’ll go away eventually, but it’s still not the same as when my skin is clear.”

“It’s not,” Remus allows. “Of course it’s not the same. But that’s like saying I’m not the same with my scars as I was without them. And I still managed to snag you all mangled-looking.”

You open your eyes, despite his hands still moving over your face. “You’re not mangled-looking,” you say. You know Remus knows this, but it feels important to tell him anyway. “I love you with your scars.”

He smiles softly, and you close your eyes again, satisfied. “Then you see what I’m getting at,” he says. “I love you like this, just the same as when your skin looked a bit different.” His touch arcs over your eyebrow. “And everyone else loves you just the same, too.”

You hum, a pleased sort of capitulation. “You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Doesn’t take much imagination to tell the truth.” You can hear Remus’ smile. “You’re always lovely, dove, but I like you best when you look like you feel lovely, too.”

“I’ll try,” you say. He hums satisfiedly, thumbs brushing twin paths across your cheeks. “Is there really still product to rub in?”

“Mm, not strictly speaking.” Remus’ lips press, soft and sweet, to your freshly moisturized cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind the bumps. “But I think I’d better do this a while longer just to be sure.”

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14thgalerie · 3 months

Text

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude.

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds.

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow.

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state.

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you.

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away.

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.”

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

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orphicrose · 2 months

Note

Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself

Old man and an Iphone

Requests are still open indeed.

I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s

This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.

----------------------

Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.

You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.

The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.

Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.

The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.

Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.

After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.

"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.

"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.

"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over

Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"

"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.

"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.

"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.

Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.

"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.

"What is a 5 million subscriber?"

"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.

"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.

"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.

You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"

He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go" "But vox is your-"

"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"

The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"

"Done"

A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.

"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.

"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.

"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.

"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."

"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.

"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"

It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"

"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"

It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.

You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.

"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"

"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.

"Do hurry"

#fanfiction #x reader #request #reqs open #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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bountydroid · 1 day

Text

Darlin' pt 6

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Romance)

Description: Cooper and Reader feel the effects of the radiation.

Notes: My tags are still goofy I don't know what is going on I am sorry. When I am writing the post your profile comes up and I click on it but then when I post it it doesn't work? Help? You guys may have to just keep an eye on my posts. :(

Cooper still hasn't told us where he is taking us yet. The sun seemed to get extra hot as the day went on. I knew the irradiation of the river was starting to hit me, just like it was the vaultie. We both had sunken, dark eyes and pale skin. Radiation sickness was starting to set in. Cooper made sure I stayed close to him, his eyes only leaving me to bark at the vaultie when she slowed.

"This damn sun," I whined.

Without saying a word, Cooper took off his hat and dropped it on my head. I smiled ear to ear, the idea of wearing his hat filling me with joy. "Thanks, Coop."

His footsteps stuttered at the nickname. Little did I know, it brought back a flood of memories that were long forgotten. "Just don't lose it, darlin'." He mumbled.

The show of affection filled me with a burst of energy, adding some pep to my step as we trekked along in the sand. Eventually, we happened upon a small, derelict town. The old homes were covered almost half up their sides with sand. The houses now were all the same tan color as the ground, a reminder of the harshness of the wastelands. We walked up to a building with "Westside Medical Clinic" written on a big sign out front. As soon as we stopped walking we heard it. The yelling.

"Roger! My name... is Roger!" A voice roared from inside the building.

The three of us exchanged looks before Cooper pushed the vaultie towards the door, making her go first. "Stay behind me, sugar." He said quietly to me.

We slowly continued into the building as the snarling grew closer. The vaultie hesitated, not wanting to get any closer to the danger inside. This caused Cooper to give her another harsh shove. The fear swirling in my stomach made me feel like I was going to throw up. I grabbed onto the back of Cooper's coat for purchase. We finally made our way into the room where the voice was coming from. A man, or a ghoul, was sitting in the sand, mumbling and snarling.

"Hey Rog," Cooper greets him.

"Hey. Hey." the man laughs, relieved to see his friend. "Fancy seeing you here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?"

"Yep," Cooper responds as he knelt in front of his friend.

You all stand there in silence for a bit, listening to Roger snarl and whip his head around.

"Oh, shit," Roger says between wails.

"How you feelin’?" Cooper asks quietly, already knowing the answer.

"Oh... you know," Roger replied. "It's hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. I see you got some smoothies of your own." He says as he looks over at the vaultie and me in the corner. "That one is cute with your hat on."

I give him a small smile as a blush warms my cheeks. "You like it? I'm thinking of keeping it." I say, trying to lighten the mood.

Roger lets out a gleeful laugh, "Oh, I hope she rubs off on you. Keep her around."

Cooper smiles in response, "Plan on it."

Roger cried out again, ripping the smiles off everyone's faces.

"You're turning," Cooper says reluctantly, he exchanges a worried look with you.

"Yeah maybe, maybe." Roger says on the verge of tears, "Maybe. Hey, you don't happen to have any vials, do you? Just one little puff and I'll be back on my feet. You know I'm good for it." Roger pleaded.

"I'm sorry Roger I am all out," Cooper says, looking sorrowful.

"That's okay. That's okay." Roger mumbles. "Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friends, you um... you might want to clear out before things get ugly."

Roger started to snarl again, he was growing louder and louder. It was horrible to watch. "Is this what will happen to Cooper?" I thought to myself.

"I did okay. 28 years since I first started showing," Roger said, before snarling again. "Oh, hell! Not as long as you are though." He pointed proudly at Cooper, "You've outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?"

"A long time," Cooper responds while shaking his head.

"That's a lot of vials," Roger said quietly.

"Well I've always been good at making money, Roger." Cooper exhales as he stands up. "Say, you remember how good food used to taste?"

"Yeah, BlamCo Mac and Cheese!" Roger says excitedly.

"Ice Cream and Apple Pie." Cooper countered.

"Hot damn! Apple Pie." Roger said, joy lighting up his face, even making the vaultie smile. "You know my mother used to-"

Before he could finish, Cooper shot Roger threw the head with no warning. I stumbled back in shock, tripping and falling on my butt and landing in the sand.

"Why did you do that?" The vaultie asked with tears in her eyes. "He was sick."

Cooper ignores her and starts making his way toward me while he holsters his gun. My eyes were glued to the man, lifeless on the ground.

"Darlin'." Cooper says pulling me from my thoughts and he crouches in front of me.

I look up at him with weeping eyes. "He...." I trailed off. I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered as the tears started to fall down to my chest.

"Don't be sorry, darlin'. Can you do something for me?" He asked calmly.

"Yeah." I managed to respond between sniffles.

"Wait in the hallway." He replies, rubbing my shoulder reassuringly. I give him a confused look before he starts talking again, "I don't want you to see this."

Realization washes over me. "You gonna eat him?"

"Just - just wait in the hallway." He says as he pulls me up to my feet. "Okay?"

"Okay," I mumble as I slowly make my way out of the room. I lean up against the wall and close my eyes. It's only a minute before I hear the vaultie begging.

"Stop. Stop Stop." The vaultie pleaded, "Please, I know it's hard out here but you don't, you don't have, you don't have to resort to... to..."

"What'd you say your name was?" Cooper asks her.

"Lucy MacLean." The vaultie replies hesitantly.

"MacLean?" Cooper asks a hint of recognition in his voice. "Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain't all peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella gotta eat another fella."

Even from the hallway, I could hear the squishing from whatever he was doing in there. I felt nausea settle into my stomach, whether from the radiation or what Cooper was doing in the other room, I didn't know.

"You know, my vault has endured hardship too," Lucy said, pushing back. In the great plague of '77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn't work the farms together, people starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this."

Cooper let out a deep chuckle at her words.

"What? What's so funny?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom.

"Well, there's what people say they did and what they really did." Cooper said, his accusation heavy in the air. "I'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor's ass on there."

"How do you live like this?" Lucy asks. "You obviously know it's wrong you sent her to the other room. So how do you do it? Why keep going?"

I open my eyes slowly at the mention of me. I didn't know if I could ever live like that, so Lucy's question piqued my interest as well. There was a heavy silence as I heard Cooper's footsteps making his way across the room.

"Well, one good question deserves another," Cooper responds, his voice was dark, sending a shiver down my spine. "Why the fuck am I doin' all the work? Now come on vaultie, ass jerky don't make itself."

This was a side of Cooper that I had not seen since the night we met. Ruthless. Cruel. It made me wonder was this who he really was. Or was the sweetness he has shown me his true self? It was probably a little bit of both. The silence in the building was deafening. It was a moment before I heard Lucy's soft footsteps in the sand.

"She is actually gonna do it." I thought to myself in horror, letting out a soft gasp.

Once they made their way out of the room, Lucy's hands were covered in blood and she had an empty expression on her face. She was clearly traumatized by what she had to do to Roger. Cooper didn't look at me as they made their way past. "Come on, darlin'."

It felt like forever since the incident with Roger, but it was hard to forget as his skin hung from Cooper's pack. The three of us hiked in silence, tension had returned to Cooper and me as neither of us knew what to say to the other. Cooper had started coughing some time ago. This filled me with dread, we needed to get him some Radaway fast. Let alone, myself. I was getting sicker by the minute as I struggled with the poisoning from the river. My feet dragged in the sand behind Cooper as I struggled to keep up.

Cooper dipped his canteen into some water pooled in an old barrel. My chest filled with jealousy. I ran out of water some time ago and the lack of food and water was becoming painful. He made eye contact with Lucy as she watched him drink. This wasn't the first time he had teased her about her lack of water. Desperate for a sip, she fell to her knees in front of the water, scooping it into her mouth.

"Now you're gettin' it." Cooper mused as he watched her. "How does that golden rule jibe with what's goin' through your head right now?"

"What are you?" Lucy asked angrily.

"Oh I'm you, sweetie, just give it a little time." He responded.

"Because of the radiation poisoning?" I asked, my voice cracking from dehydration.

Cooper turned to me with a serious look on his face, "Not gonna happen to you darlin'."

I gave him a small nod before I squeaked out, "Okay." I trusted him completely.

As a coughing fit took over the ghoul, Lucy took her chance to make a run for it. I was torn between chasing after her and staying to comfort Cooper. Cooper started waving after her, signaling for me to chase her.

"Hey! Stop!" I yelled as I ran after her.

As we rounded the corner, she stopped to stare at the huge crater in the ground. I ran up next to her as I also marveled at the sight. I had never seen anything like that before. Suddenly, Cooper's lasso secured itself around Lucy's midsection as he pulled her down onto the ground.

"Where you think you're goin'? You ain't goin' nowhere." Cooper said as he stepped over her, leaning down to grab her face.

Lucy immediately responded by biting onto his finger and ripping it off with her teeth.

"Oh my god?!" I gasped out as I ran toward them. "Cooper."

He continued to keep his attention on Lucy. "There you are, you little killer." He said as he lifted her to her feet before grabbing ahold of her matching finger and cutting it off with his knife. "Now that right there is the closest thing to an honest exchange that we've had so far." He pocketed her finger before reaching down to pick up his own. "Here darlin'," He said as he handed me the rope that was tied to Lucy.

I hesitantly took it as I watched him rummage around in his pack for a small rag to wrap his finger in.

"You don't hurt, right?" I asked him.

"Don't feel a thing, sugar." He said smiling as he took the rope back from me.

This exchange seemed to have depleted Lucy's resolve completely as she quietly obeyed from there on out. It wasn't long after that that we reached an old building with the word SuperDuperMart written on it. It was surrounded by a broken-down fence and had some old cars in the front of the building. I was nervous, but Cooper's confidence calmed me as we approached the building.

"Transaction," Cooper said as he pressed on some sort of communication device. He threw his bag into the dirt next to him. He looked tired.

"Yes?" Someone responded.

"Two month's supply of vials. Exchange one female mint condition." He stated before looking over at Lucy's hand, "Near mint condition."

"Condition grading requires physical evaluation. Please send her in." The voice responded, there was something strange about the voice that I couldn't recognize. It almost didn't sound human.

The door to the building buzzes and slowly opens. Lucy watched it with concern evident in her eyes, "What's in there?" She asked.

"You're about to find out," Cooper replies as he cuts the rope that bound her wrists.

"You're selling me?" Lucy asks, a look of disbelief on her face.

Cooper pulls a gun from his hip and cocks it, "You got problems out here too, sweetheart. Best you try your luck behind that door. Go on." He says as he shoves her.

I watch on from behind Cooper as Lucy shuffles her way into the building, giving a nervous look back before she enters.

Once she enters, Cooper deflates. He was obviously putting on a show for her. Pretending he wasn't as sick as he really was. "Y/n?"

"Cooper?" I ask breathlessly.

Instead of responding, the ghoul collapsed.

"Cooper!" I yell out as I shake him. His eyes are open and he's still awake but for some reason, he was not able to move.

I pushed the button he was using to communicate with the man inside the building. "He can't wait he needs it now!" Only to get no response. "We will give you another person! A female near mint conditon." I say, describing myself.

Cooper whispered out, "No." I could barely hear him.

I crouch down next to him and place his hat next to him, "It's my turn to take care of you." I declared, giving him a sad smile.

I took his gun and tried to shoot the door to break it. I had never used a gun before, so it took me a minute or two to figure out. The glass, however, appeared to be bulletproof.

"Shit," I mumbled before placing the gun on the ground.

I then decided to try and pry the door open with no such luck. I run between the cars around us, searching for anything I can use to open the door. In one of them, I find a crowbar. "Yes!" I yell happily as I run back to the door. I wrestled with it for a while before I finally was able to get the crowbar inside, finally, I had some progress. I yelled out in frustration as I tried to open the door. It was the heaviest thing I have ever felt in my life. Moving it just an inch took more strength than I had, especially in my state.

After a couple minutes of struggling, I collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I looked over at Cooper only to see he hadn't loved an inch. "Cooper?" I call out as I crawl towards him. I sit next to him and gently lift his head onto my lap, rolling him onto his back. "You'll be okay," I say quietly before looking up at the door. I was hoping that soon they would come out to give him the vials he was owed. The silence felt like it had been going on forever when there were suddenly gunshots coming from inside the building. I help Cooper a little closer, afraid and confused. I grabbed his gun again and held it close to my side.

"I've got you, Coop," I whispered to him.

The building then went silent again. There was a moment before Lucy strolled out the door, covered in blood.

"Lucy? What happened?" I gasp.

"They were going to harvest my fucking organs!" She yelled angrily as she sauntered over to us.

I shakily hold up my gun, causing her to stop in her tracks.

"He doesn't get these, he turns into one of those? That how it works?" She asked, holding up a couple vials.

I lower the gun and start begging. "Please, Lucy."

She crouches down next to him and contemplates for a moment before saying to Cooper, "I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you." Before getting up, she gently puts some vials in my hand. "Golden rule, motherfuckers."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" I cry out happily as I start rummaging through Cooper's pockets searching for his inhaler. "I've got you, I've got you.." I kept repeating as I shakily put the vial in the inhaler and hold it up to his mouth. It takes a couple tries, but ultimately, he gets ahold of it and breathed in the contents. I make a happy squeak as he starts to move again.

He lets out a soft wheeze before saying 'Why the hell would you do that?"

"What?" I asked him confused.

"You were going to fucking sell yourself? For me?" He states angrily as he sits up to a sitting position.

"Well-" I start.

"Well, nothing. Never do that again." He shouts as he stands, pulling me up by my collar. The fear on my face softened him as he released my shirt with a sigh, "I ain't worth it, darlin'."

"You are to me," I say quietly. "You are never getting rid of me."

He lets out a small laugh as he smiles wearily, his resolve dimishing. "You are way too good for me, sugar."

"Well too bad, Cooper. You've got me." I say as kiss him on the cheek.

Just as I was pulling away he grabbed hold of my hip "Come here." He says as his lips crash into mine.

I let out a squeak in surprise before I started to return the kiss. It was sloppy and heated, filled with pent-up emotions. It was everything I wanted.

Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramategreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie

#cooper howard #the ghoul fallout #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout tv series #fallout

313 notes · View notes

chvnnie · 6 months

Note

Can you please write about dilf seungmin? I just can’t sleep without it.

it’s been a while since i posted — so why not start with my literally brand?

…I also made it spicy. Oops.

Seungmin looks good in a suit.

This isn’t like, brand new information. Simply a statement; he looks good in a suit.

Your husband looks good in a suit.

SMUT — MINORS DNI

What makes him look even better, in your opinion, is the way he puts the baby carrier on. Fingers flexing, veins popping in his hands as he adjusts the straps. Fixes the buckles. Make sure everything is secure before he puts your son in there. There’s just something about the way his fingers glide down the strap, pulling it tightly—

“You’re staring.” He interrupts your thoughts, not even looking up from what he’s doing. It slipped your mind that he’s standing in front of the mirror, and you’re right in his line of sight.

You clear your throat, distracting yourself with the sleeve on your dress. “Sorry.” You mumble.

“Hm.” Checking that everything is on him correctly, Seungmin turns around. “Are you?”

Why is he talking to you like this? Why is his voice so low? Was it a good idea to wear a long sleeved dress? Okay, it’s snowing outside, but the way your husband’s words are affecting make you feel like you’re on fire.

Red and pink-ish flames dance across your body, swirling like a tornado of fire. Engulfing you and forcing you to given into the sensation.

“Maybe.” The strand you were toying with becomes irrelevant, head tilting up to meet your husband’s gaze. He’s taken a few steps closer to you, eyes dark and turned downward. Another match strikes. “Would it be so wrong if I was?”

Tongue in cheek, he huffs a small laugh. Faster than lightening, a hand grips your chin. Tilting it up. Forcing your gaze to stay in place. “When you look at me like that,” his thumb slides up, finding the center of your bottom lip. Slowly, he begins to stroke it, smearing the red lipstick you just applied, “you know I can’t help myself.”

The birthday dinner is in less than an hour. If you don’t leave now, you run the risk of being late — but the baby is still asleep, snoring over the monitor in the next room over.

Sounds like a perfect excuse.

Your mouth forms around the digit, eyes locked with his as you slowly brush your thumbs across it. Not stopping until the mouth meets the knuckle, only to pull out just as slow.

“Don’t, then.”

Playing with fire is never wise. But sometimes, the burn is too delightful.

Seungmin’s other hand grips the nape of your neck, forcing you from your seat on the bed to your knees. They brush against his loafers, the only thing stopping your skin from bruising.

The thumb that was in your mouth moves across your cheek, painting your skin with the lipstick you so carefully applied. “All I’ve wanted was to make a mess of you tonight.” He says in a low whisper, slapping your cheek softly. Enough to make the blaze burn brighter. “You make losing myself too easy.”

His belt buckle jingles, blending with your gentle laugh as you smile up at him. Though he acts like he’s playing with you, in reality he’s given you exactly what you wanted. Feeding into your will without really even knowing.

Who knew all it took was a stare?

Seungmin pushed his pants down just enough to free his cock. It bounces out, hard and heavy like it was seconds from tearing a hole in his slacks. He grasps the base of it, slowly working his hand up and down. The thumb that is lipstick stained brushes over the tip. Making a mess of himself.

Your tongue rolls out, waiting for patiently for your husband to finish teasing you. To give you both what you know you can’t go another second without.

His smile is breathtaking. “Good girl.” He coos, finally sliding his cock in your mouth. The deeper it goes, the louder he groans. The fire moving to his body, and he’s in no rush to put it out.

Savoring the feeling of your throat, Seungmin is slow to pull out. Not wanting to even thrust — just to sit there, let his cock hit the back of your throat and listen to you choke on it. Everything about it is perfect. The warmth, the closeness.

You. Your watery, wide eyes. Face stained with lipstick, mascara close to follow.

“I love you.” He mumbles softly, the thrust starting slow and deep. He doesn’t go far before he diving back in, craving more and more. “I fucking love you.”

Bodies aflame, molding into one. There’s a tenderness that only Seungmin possesses, an ability to make even moments like this feel like heaven.

Your tongue swirls around the base of his cock. It twitches in your mouth, the feeling making his knees buckle. Fuck, everything about this is perfect. His fingers thread in your hair, holding your head still as he rocks his hips a lip faster. Rougher.

Spit starts to leak from your mouth. Down it rolls, clinging briefly to your chin before it drops onto the ground. His shoes. Your lap. Sloppy, messy.

Perfect.

“You take my cock so good.” He groans, head rolling back as he picks up the speed. Not one usually for words in the moment, you soak up the compliment. Bouncing a bit on your knees as you tighten your throat until he’s moaning your name. Spilling from his mouth like a prayer. “Fuck, that’s it. Fuck—“

He cums hard and fast. There isn’t even a second to warn you before it’s spilling in your mouth. Seungmin stares at you as he empties out, watching you swallow around his cock. You look so beautiful when you’re such a mess for him.

Carefully, he pulls himself out, stuffing the still hard member in his boxers. He falls to his knees in front of you, not even bothering to buckle his pants before he cups your face. Peppering it with kisses, whispering praise and thanks. Apologies for ruining your makeup—

Your hands wrap around his wrists, holding him close as you smile at him. “I love you, too.” You say softly, pressing your lips against his. “I—“

The monitor on the bedside table lights up, the sound of cries filling the room. You both huff a laugh, lost in each other’s gaze for just one more second. Just a little bit longer of just the two of you.

“I’ve got him.” You say, only to be held still by your husband.

“No, I’ll get him.” He brushes his lips against your cheeks once before he stands. “Go fix your makeup, unless you want to go to dinner like that.”

“I think it’s a look, no?” You tease, pulling yourself onto your feet.

“God, don’t start unless you want to be tied to the bed for the rest of the night.”

It’s not an empty threat. You desperately want to see it through. Smiling, you send him away, going into the en-suite to reapply to your lipstick. Clean the mess that Seungmin made.

Your husband looks good in a suit. It’s a fact. But when you walk out into the living room, getting the perfect view of him bouncing the baby against his chest. Singing and tickling the little boy’s feet until he’s a fit of giggles, you realize that as good as he looks in a suit — he looks better as a dad.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #seungmin smut #kim seungmin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids hard thoughts #chvnnie dad!skz #dad!skz #dad!seungmin

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ultralightpoe · 5 months

Text

Spellbound Part 3- Geralt of Rivia

Authors Note: Y'ALL I AM SO SORRY! I thought I scheduled it and I do monthly breaks from all social media! Omg I really screwed y'all over! I AM SO SO SO SO SO SORRY. How can I make it up birdies?

Word Count: 3093

Description: Part One and Part Two

Warnings: Heavy smuttt y'all

Enjoy!

Before Geralt had lost his entire life he was told as a child that there was always a beginning, middle and end. And though most people always thought that this merely pertained to stories his parents always told him that they belonged to humans too.

Every human had a beginning, middle and end.

Every monster had a beginning.

Every Saint had a beginning.

But none of them mattered right now, because all Geralt could think of right now was you. Your beginning, middle and end. He wanted to know more of your story more than he ever had before.

You had both settled down at a rundown inn, him covering his hair and you covering the bruises someone had left on your neck. The innkeeper, a straggly old lady that could barely turn to grab the key to the rooms, barely cast either of you a glance.

You kept close to him as you both made your way up the stairs, and Geralt was embarrassed to admit that a surge of pride crossed through him at this. You seek his warmth and protection, and he would give it. He would give you anything you wanted.

Yennifer had left as soon as she could, saying that she would be going to find Jaskier and letting him know they found you.

Geralt would keep you with him in the inn, per Jaskiers request. The bard pretends to worry about you with all the traveling, claiming that it would be best if he came to the two of you. Geralt saw the lie, he just could not give a shit.

Instead he started a fire, setting you in front of it and mumbling that he would be right back. You snatch to grab his upper arm when he moves to leave, but he merely nods, letting you know it is okay to let go. So you do, swiping your fingers under your eyes quickly, but it was too late and he had already seen the tears.

He makes the trip quick, buying you warmer clothes and heading back and ordering some hot stew from the innkeeper, heading back to the room when she tells him she will bring it.

You are right where he left you when he comes back in, this time a little closer to the fire and curled up a little tighter. Geralt, who had always struggled to sneak around, tried to lighten his footsteps as he neared you.

“I brought some fresh clothes. How about a bath and a change?” He asks, his voice scratchy from lack of use, but he does his best to keep it gentle.

You shake your head, the slightest of movement that somehow managed to clench his heart in his chest. “I’m too tired.”

“Allow me.” He whispers, holding out his hand for you.

“Allow you?”

“To bathe you.”

“You would do that?” You smile, the beginning of a laugh climbing up your throat at the thought.

“It would be my honor.” His tone makes it sound like he is teasing, but there is nothing but seriousness behind that comment.

“You won’t jest?”

“Never.”

And at the simple touch of your fingers reaching up to his own has his skin on fire, shaking slightly as he helps your stand, shuffling to the bathroom and leading you to the center of the room and turning to heat the bottom of the tub with fire as he waits for you to get undressed

But when he turns back to you he finds you waiting patiently, still in the gaudy thin dress, watching slowly.

You seem fazed out now, eyes shuttering as you reach to him and begin untying his own shirt. A moment of startlement crosses him before he reaches a hand up and stops you by grasping your own in his larger palms. He rubs softly as he tries to relax you, shaking his head.

“Not me. You.”

“You, with me.”

“I do not want to-”

“I don’t wanna be exposed alone.” It’s then that Geralt knows what you mean. You don’t want to be the only one naked and vulnerable. So he would join you. Anything for you.

He turns to undress as you undress yourself, and once he hears you get into the tub he turns himself, his heart stopping in his chest at the sight of you.

Your breasts are just barely covered by the water, and within that moment you managed to tie your hair up with a leather scrap, exposing the bruised neck and collarbone . In this moment you looked broken, and still astonishingly beautiful. It wasn’t fair.

He takes a moment to climb in, and suddenly he feels the stress from the last few months beginning to fade from his body as he nears you, sitting across from you knee to knee.

Silence fills the room, and Geralt stresses to find something to say as you lean forward to rest your forehead on his knee.

“Turn around so I can wash your hair.” He whispers, allowing you room to do so and beginning to work on your hair with the soap. “My parents used to tell me stories.”

“About kings and dragonslayers?”

“No, about monsters.”

“How so?”

“They used to tell me that the saints and the monsters of the world all had stories of their own, that everyone you come across has a beginning, middle and end.”

You turn slightly to watch him, and he does his best to seem relaxed.

“I spent most of my time stressed in impressing and protecting you.” He whispers. “I was gruff, which I do with most people. Keeping you and everyone else at arm's length.”

“I’m trying to see how this relates, witcher.”

“I want to know your story, I want to know your beginning and middle and I am desperate to be with you until the end.”

“Why would you want to know all of that?”

“I have found that, even with you mad at me, that I am nothing in this world without you.”

“I will tell you everything if you tell me everything.”

—------------

You fall asleep listening to him whisper the same stories his parents once told you, rubbing your hair softly as you keep your nose shoved into his chest.

You awake around midnight screaming, it takes Gerat a couple minutes to calm you down before he moves to start another fire, bringing you closer to it for warmth and letting you lay in front of it.

The days follow as this, staying by the fire in the cold winter air, whispering back and forth. Eating the stew and roasts the innkeeper made.

You tell him about your life, and he tells you about yours.

Finally you ask.

“Shouldn’t you be out there? Working for the people?” Your head is laid out on his thigh as he watches the snow fall from the window. “I have never known you to sit still, Geralt.”

His heart lurches at the sound of his name falling from your lips. “I have spent the past few weeks working…..for you.”

“What do you mean?” You ask quickly, lifting your head from his thigh, eyes traveling his scarred abdomen before landing to his eyes.

“I was trying to buy out the contract. For you?”

“Why would you do that? How much money did that end up being?”

“Not enough. It seems that the monster of a brothel keeper and I can agree on one thing, you are priceless.”

“Then how-”

“Yennifer smuggled you out-”

“Then what of the coin?”

“It’s yours. It’s all yours if you want it. Enough to buy a cottage in the hillside for years and-”

“And what if I wanted to stay with you? And Jaskier? Or do you not want me?”

“There is nothing more that I want than you. But I treated you horribly-”

You snap to stand then, hair flipping as you stomp across the room to fling a pillow at him. “How so?”

“That night, you were under a spell and I was so close to absolutely defiling you-”

“I wanted it! If you weren’t so pigheaded you would know that those charms only work if the one wearing it is-”

“Stop.” There was a heavy force in the room, pressing through his chest to his lungs as he tried to catch his breath.

“Stop what?”

“This will ruin everything-”

“How. So.”

“BECAUSE I CAN’T LOSE YOU!” He yells, rubbing at his forehead. “I would rather not have you than lose you. Do you understand?”

“Do you love me?”

“Y-”

“Do you love me as I love you?”

“Yes.” And just like that the tight feeling in his gut that formed the moment he had laid eyes on you. His body was lighter and his heart felt like it was righted once more. “I love you.”

“Then what does it matter?”

“You’ve….. You have had a long couple m-”

“I want you.” You whisper, slowly tiptoeing around the room. “I trust no one but you. No one has given me the truth more, and protected me more.”

“I was cruel and-”

“I understand now.” You smile, tears filling your eyes. “I’ve seen terrible terrible men-”

His fists clench at his sides, the urge to find every man that harmed you and smash their heads with a hammer, as he watches you move closer until your own hands find purchase on his chest.

The warmth fills him the second you touch him.

“But you, in all your gruff warnings and rude awakenings, have never been a bad man.”

“You deserve better.”

“I am a brothel worker. I deserve nothing. But this is not what I deserve, this is what I want. Desperately so.”

“You want me?”

“I need you, Geralt.”

His hands unclench, moving up until they rest at your cheeks as he gazes down at you. “I need you too.”

“Then show me.” It’s a simple whisper, but one he hears through his being all the same, moving you backwards slowly until the back of your knees are pressed to the bed. He waits for you to show him a sign of fear or that you changed your mind. But you merely smile up at him, fingers moving to slide over the scars on his abdomen.

“I trust you.” You whisper, the tips of your fingers sliding against his skin until they get to the breaches he wears and begin untying them.

“After what you have been through…”

“I want you to remind me of what it could be.” And he can’t help himself after that, moving to grab the bottoms of the night dress, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers graze your thighs while he lifts it up slowly, his heart hammering in his chest as you smile softly, allowing him to stand once more and remove the dress from you.

You allow him to watch you, the wild look in his eyes as he traces your skin slowly.

“You’ll tell me the second you change your mind?”

“The very instant.” It was like a cord snapping, a leash let go and suddenly Geralt could not help himself. In one quick swoop he reaches to toss you onto the bed, watching you with dark eyes while you scooch backwards to get comfortable.

He prowls above you, enjoying the excited gleam in your eye as he crawls between your legs to kiss at your lips softly, then the softness turns to hunger as his hand grabs your jaw and he devours you. Kissing you like a man completely starved of it.

A soft moan falls from your lips and he is nearly a goner, his breath lost as he pulls back to admire his work, a string of saliva keeping you both connected as you take a moment to open your eyes, lips swollen and red. He holds out his hand, waiting patiently for you to catch your breath before he orders you to “Spit.”

You comply easily, and he stops himself from growling in pleasure before he takes his hand and slaps your cunt harshly, a smile tearing across his face when you moan out before he is crawling back down the bed to shove his face between your legs roughly and lick a stripe between your folds.

The moment your thighs tighten around his head he vows that he will spend the rest of his life doing this, no matter where and no matter when. He would suffocate in this spot if you would let him. A low growl releases from his chest as you moan, fingers lacing themselves in his hair tightly and tugging as he laps at your clit.

Over and over, feeling you spasm with pleasure twice before you use your hands and tug him up by his hair, whining.

He drags his eyes up to you then, seeing the tears from pleasure streaming down your cheeks as he kneels in front of you on the bed.

“Are you hurt?” Even if he had the carnal urge to take you right here and now your safety and well being came first and foremost. You seem to realize this as you move up and reach to wrap your arms around his neck, his hands flying to your sides to help stabilize you. Rubbing softly as he peers down at you, him being twice your size.

Just the thought of it makes his stomach clench in anticipation as you lean up to kiss him, allowing him to lean you both back down onto the bed and lay over you, picking up the kiss just as hungrily.

He only pulls away from your kiss to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you reach down to line him up. He has to close his eyes and take in a shuddering breath the second you touch him and it takes everything not to finish there.

But it is all worth it as he pushes in, a growl once again ripping out of his chest as you moan out, foreheads pressed together as he pushes until he is bottomed out.

“So….. fuck.”

“Neverstop.” You whine, pressing your chest up into his with your eyes still closed. But that just wouldn’t do. How could he admire your fucked out look if he didn’t have your undivided attention. So he pulls your hair and orders you to open your eyes.

You don’t listen, instead moving your hips to gain some friction so he shoves his own hips down to keep you pinned into place as he orders one more. “Let. Me. See. Your. Fucking. Eyes.”

When you finally open them he begins moving, a slow pace at first, allowing you to gain pleasure slowly but the second he feels the tightness loosen up and you get wetter he is unleashed, pounding into you at a heavy pace.

The headboard hits the wall with each hit, and your face is thrown into one of pure pleasure as he keeps going. And Geralt cannot think of anything he has ever done to deserve this.

He would never actually deserve this, but he was so grateful that you had given him a chance, because this is what pure heaven was.

“You’re mine.” He grunts out, one fist tightening in your hair as he kisses down your throat, thrusting into you at a rapid pace as your hands fly to scratch down his back in a way that has him holding his breath to stop from finishing.

“I’m yours.” You moan out, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“I’m never letting y- FUCK- you leave again.”

“I’ll never leave again.”

“I’ll kill any man that touches you.”

“No one else.” You cry out, and he feels you tighten around him once more and knows you’re close so he reaches a hand and pinches at your nipple harshly. “Only you Geralt. My Geralt!” You come undone around him, eyes rolling back as he keeps you pressed to his chest and finishes inside you, keeping you as close as he can while letting you both ride out your highs.

By the time you both finish he lays you both down, his head laying on your chest with him laying between your legs as you play with your hair.

“I love you…..” You whisper, twirling some of his hair softly.

“I love you.” He replies, moving until his chin is laying on your stomach and he can look up at you. “And I will never let you forget that.”

—-------------

You are awakened by a boot pressing into your cheek as you grumble out and move to push it away.

“Geralt I swear-” But when you open your eyes you see none other than Jaskier with a cheeky little grin over his face as he stares down at you, a mug of what smells like cider in his hand.

“Not your lover, but your closest friend.”

“Roach wears boots now?” You laugh, moving to stretch as he rolls his eyes. It had been months since you escaped the brothel, and since everything has changed. Jaskier seems more clingy than ever which was something you only pretended to hate, and Geralt has gone from the stoic asshole to the stoic love of your life…… well in public.

Behind closed doors he spent most of his time worshiping you.

“Where is he?” You ask after surveying to find him.

“He took little one to get some water.”

Another thing that had changed, the young girl that you had smuggled out of a brothel months ago, who has slowly become like a daughter to you, well youngest daughter since you considered Ciri your daughter as well.

“We’re here!” Y/d calls, her pudgy hand held in Geralts as he leads the girls back, Ciri with a small smile on her face while Y/d rushes to you. “We got water!”

“And Geralt says we have to be off.” Ciri sighs, leaning forward to accept your loving touch as you fuss over her hair.

“Let’s get on the horses.” Your lover grunts, lifting y/d from under her shoulders and setting her on roach, moving to help Ciri before getting to you. A hand finds purchase on your thigh as you lift yourself onto your horse, smiling down at him.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“While you look like that? How will I ever break the love spell?”

“Guess your spellbound then.”

“Always have been.” He kisses your thigh while Jaskier is turned before turning to his own horse and jumping on, making sure y/d is comfortable before moving on.

(I AM SO SORRY, I REALLY THOUGHT I SCHEDULED IT BABES. How can I make it up? I'll do anything.....)

@sagelovesreading

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distantdarlings · 6 months

Text

INTERTWINED // t. nott

RATING: R / 1.9K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - You make the bold decision to approach Theo about your mutual feelings for each other. (Romance, Smut)

+ WARNINGS - Smut! Kissing without permission, descriptions of sex (not super graphic but still), language, dom!Theo

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

High - Stephen Sanchez

Theo stared at you with gentle, beckoning eyes. His tie was loosened quite a bit and the first two buttons of his shirt were pulled apart. His smooth skin called out to you. You swallowed thickly.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asks. You nod vigorously. It wasn’t doing anything with him that scared you, it was doing something in general. You had never done anything like this with someone before. If it was going to be with anyone, though…you wanted Theo.

This was a rather interesting situation and—if you were being honest, you didn’t think you’d lose your virginity this way. Asking your best friend shamelessly and, even better, him not immediately recoiling in disgust.

“If I do anything you don’t want, you have to tell me immediately,” he demands, his eyes wide and stern.

“Jeez, I’m starting to wonder if you even want me to anymore,” you joked nervously.

“Hey,” he spoke, stepping closer to you. Much closer. His lips find your ear. “I want nothing more than to make you mine in every way I can, but I can’t hurt you. I have to make this absolutely perfect for you.”

“You will be,” you reassured him.

“Well you don’t know that for certain,” he argued, “Plus the fact, I’ve only done anything once before and—wait, would that bother you?” He cut himself off. You made a face at him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I want you, I really do.”

You hide a smile. You’d had feelings for Theo for a while now and you’d asked everyone you could think of. They all said that Theo liked you—a lot. Which was perfect for you.

“What is it? What are you thinking about?” He asks nervously, his eyes flicking wildly back and forth.

“Theo, calm down,” you chuckled gently. “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous?”

“I’m sorry,” he winced. “I just want to make this—”

“Let me,” you cut him off, gently shushing him. You knew it had been bold of you to ask such a straight-forward question but you wanted him and he wanted you and you were tired of waiting for him to make a move. So you’d shown up to his room around ten o’clock and knocked politely on his door, praying his roommate wasn’t in.

Your hands slowly rise up to press easily against his cheeks, feeling the warm skin beneath. His sideburns tickled the tips of your finger. His eyes were widened and nervous, his breath short and rapid. You wanted him to relax.

“Breathe, Theo,” you whispered, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “You’re my best friend, you’re not usually this nervous to be with me.”

“Yes but usually you’re not asking for me to sleep with you,” he replies quietly.

“Is it much different? I’m still me and you’re still you. I’ve seen you naked before,” you smile, trying to lighten his concerns.

“Not in this context,” he mumbled.

“If you don’t want to, that’s completely okay,” you whisper, “we can forget this conversation happened—”

“No!” he hissed. “I want to.”

“Are you sure? I can just—” He presses his lips abruptly to yours. You grunt in surprise before melting into the kiss. His hands come down to slowly slide around your hips, his thumbs brushing beneath your shirt, caressing the soft skin there. Chills appear down your arms.

He refuses to release you for a few minutes, at least, before you’re practically yanking yourself back to get a deep breath. The both of you pant heavily, your eyes finding his.

“Sorry,” he breathes. You shake your head in response.

You bump your nose with his playfully as your breaths intertwine, dancing around each other. He leans forward slightly, his lips brushing against yours. You shudder against his mouth. His tongue darts out and caresses your top lip slowly, tracing it from the inside curve up to the Cupid’s bow. You hold back a moan as you press your lips to his once more.

He turns the two of you towards his bed and walks you back until the backs of your knees hit the soft surface. You fall over it, your back colliding with his blankets. Your lips separate only for a moment while he climbs back up to you, dipping his head down to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck.

“Roll over,” you whisper, as he works on your jawline.

“Hmm?” He hums distractedly.

You roll your eyes and press your hands to his chest, pushing as hard as you could. As he slides over to the spot just beside yours, you pull yourself up onto him and settle just above his pelvis. He stares with wide eyes.

“I wanna do it,” you whisper to him. You copy him and begin by pressing your lips to his neck. His eyes flutter shut and a small breath comes from his lips. You smirk against his skin.

Your fingers come down to swiftly pull each button away from its hole in his uniform shirt. Once they’re fully unfastened, you take advantage of this new display of flesh and drag your nails gently down his chest and stomach. His lips part in a small groan. You smirk once again.

Your lips reconnect with his skin, only this time, they’re weaving their way around his built chest, becoming familiar with his taste.

With one hand, he tightens his grip in your hair. With the other, he reaches down and manages to undo his belt. Quite impressive.

“Would you like help?” You laugh. He shakes his head with a smug smile plastered on, pulling the belt swiftly out of his belt loops. He raises his hand back up to the back of your neck and pulls you down to his lips.

You pull away and help him slide his uniform pants down his legs. You giggle childishly as he kicks them off the edge of the bed. You follow his actions quickly behind him, with him teasingly sliding your pajama shorts off your hips and groaning when seeing your choice of undergarments.

You tighten your fingers around his curls as you sink down onto him. His breaths fall out in quiet, shuddered exhales. His fingernails dig into your back on either side of your spinal cord. The pale blue veins over his eyelids tremble like spiderwebs in rain. Your lips part at the feeling of him—all of him, taking up every space in your body.

“Baby . . . ,” he rasps. You gently shush him, pressing your hand to his cheek and your thumb to his lips. You push down, watching his swollen bottom lip part to reveal his teeth. A spot of red slips through to cover the pearly creatures. Your eyebrows furrow as you lean closer to see what could have caused the bleeding. There, on the curvature of his lip, lay a hole embedded into the surface. You press your lips to his once more, swallowing up his groan with his blood as a chaser. You fit your incisors perfectly to the wound and gently bite down. He exhales sharply. You taste metal.

“Please,” he breathes, a bead of sweat falling from a dark curl. As if in slow motion, it collides with his chin, cascading down the curve of it, kissing his neck gently. Your lips learn the meaning of jealousy as you follow the droplet with your eyes.

“Please, what?” You ask. You suppose it could have given off a bit of a teasing tone but you were genuinely curious. This is the first time you’ve ever done this. You could be doing something terribly wrong or hurting him. You weren’t sure. You leaned closer to him. You feel him shift inside you.

“Mm!” His eyes clenched tightly. He draws his bloody lip into his mouth. “Move, baby, please move.”

“I—“ your lips part to speak. Blood rushes to your cheeks and ears, filling them with warm shame. You didn’t know how to. To be quite honest, with all of the miniature fantasies about Theo you had, you never really thought they’d come into fruition. You thought you were a hormonal person thinking about a cute guy, like everyone else in the world. But it seems that when you were fantasizing you weren’t actually planning. Else you would have known what to do here.

“What is it?” he whispers, his eyes lidded and sultry. Concern floats in them. Arousal burns in your stomach.

“I don’t know—uh, I . . .,” you stutter clumsily. He nods gently, never breaking eye contact. His hand pulls softly away from your back to cup the side of your face. His thumb slowly strokes the curve of your cheekbone. He leans in as if to kiss you once more but his lips stop to hover against yours.

“I’m going to move your hips—if it hurts, I’ll stop. Okay?” he whispered. You nodded gently so your foreheads did not bump. His hand slides down your face and across your neck. His calloused fingertips scraped your throat, claiming it. You tilted your head back to allow him more access. His hands drop to your hips.

Fingers tightening around curves, cold metal touching burning skin, and hot pleasure stabbed at your brain. You could feel everything around you and nothing at all. He felt like nothing you’d ever felt before and like everything you were supposed to be feeling. This must be what everyone talks about when they discuss how great sex is. But maybe they’re experiencing something different from you after all, because this isn’t something that is just enjoyable that you could do whenever—this is something you never wanted to end. You never wanted to stop feeling his hips slam into your thighs, his hands gripping your sides, his hot breath flutter against your throat as his lips chanted nonsensical praise to your neck. You wanted—needed to feel this forever.

“Fuck, baby, I can’t—I—” he groaned, his eyebrows screwing together. His pace became jagged and his breaths got quicker. Dulcet tones skirted the edge of your jawline as he suppressed as much of his sounds as he could. You didn’t want that.

He pressed his open mouth to your neck, sending uncontrollable chills down your arms. Bits and pieces of words slipped out between each kiss, things like “made for me” and “feel so good” echoed against your throat. You couldn’t contain the sounds slipping between your lips. He was much better at hiding his sounds than you were. You were embarrassed. You didn’t want to be useless.

You opened your eyes and slowly pulled away from his embrace. His face came away from your neck and he found your eyes. He looked worried. You shook your head and slammed your hands into his chest as hard as you could. A soft grunt came from him as he fell back. He shifted inside of you as he did. The shock in his eyes died down to an amused glint. The corners of his lips turned up gently as you did your best to recreate what he had been doing to you without his hands. As soon as you began to move, his lips parted and his eyes fluttered shut. His head fell back down against the bed.

His swollen, cherried lips glistened with saliva from the kisses he’d scattered across your neck. The sounds he had been concealing became breathier and a little louder. His eyes were beginning to clench shut. You placed your hands on his chest. You did what you were supposed to and let him learn every secret your body kept hidden.

#theo nott #creative writing #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #reader insert #harry potter smut #masterlist #theodore nott #slytherin #slytherin boys

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ooffmlsorry · 5 months

Text

Hold Me Closer

Law x reader

2.4k words, slow burn for a tumblr post i guess??

A/N: Law is such a touch-starved disaster in this god bless him. Don't worry...this is my last drunk post. I don't wanna accidentally promote alcoholism on this good Christian hellsite I just need to write my fav blorbo drunk and in love once and then I'm good.

CW: drinking, drunk behavior

"You know, for as smart as Law is you really can manipulate him into just about anything," Nami says. "He's no better than Luffy, as soon as you tell him he can't do something he has to go and try it."

"Huh?" You're drunk, and by the look of the Straw Hat's navigator significantly more so than her. (What are the Straw Hats' livers made out of? Steel?)

You follow your gaze to your captain, Trafalgar Law, and feel a giddy bubble of laughter make its way through you. "I'm just happy to see him cut loose for once," you say. From the looks of it he might actually be tipsy. Law’s cheeks are flushed a little and he’s talking animatedly about something. The shine in his eyes captivate you.

Yeah, you're definitely feeling the effects if you're openly giggling at the sight of him.

Despite your last thought you take another sip of your drink. It stopped tasting sweet and sharp a while ago and is starting to taste more and more like I should be next to him.

"He's so beautiful when he's happy," you mutter.

"What?!" Nami presses her hand flush to her chest and turns to look at you. A mischievous grin passes over her tipsy face, "beautiful, huh?" She pokes your side playfully and giggles. "What's that supposed to mean?”

"Nothing!" You flinch away from her and drain your drink to quench your suddenly dry mouth. "You like seeing Luffy happy! It's the same thing!"

She laughs so loud and so hard she nearly falls out of her chair. "Oh yeah! Sure! But have you ever heard me call Luffy beautiful?"

At that exact moment you watch Luffy snort with laughter and shoot beer out of his nose.

"Point taken.”

“He’s not my type, that’s for sure,” Nami says.

“No, your type is Alabastan princesses,” you tease back.

“Hey!” Her ears pink a little more. “It’s not…” she stammers. “You know what! You’re getting me my next drink just for that!” She pushes her empty mug towards you. “Chop! Chop, Y/N! I’m thirsty!”

You roll your eyes. It’s true all the Straw Hats are bossy in one way or another, no wonder they exhaust Law. You grab her mug and yours and head to the bar for another round.

Your eyes move back to where you last saw Law talking with someone, except he wasn’t there anymore. Where did he go? The room’s crowded with people talking and laughing, yelling and singing. Between the alcohol and another raucous round of Binx’s Sake sung across the banquet, it’s hard to focus. Did he leave already? Disappointment washed over you, but you weren’t surprised. That would be your captain, Trafalgar Law, ever restrained.

You sighed. Hopefully he didn’t go back to the ship to get more work done. You fill up yours and Nami’s cup and start to head back to your seat.

“You’re drinking poison, you know that Y/N-ya?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the hot breath against the shell of your ear. Then, you process what was said to you. Poison? Instinctively you reach for a weapon, and then remember you left it behind.

“What? Law—”

Barely have room to turn around, he’s standing so close to you. The flush in cheeks is darker than you realized and his dark eyes have lost some of their sharpness. A mischievous smirk plays upon his lips. “And you tell me I need to lighten up?” You’re not met with the level of seriousness you normally expect from your captain. “This,” he holds his mug up, only nearly sloshing its contents, “is poison. It’s the ethanol. That’s what slows you down, it’s not all that different from slowly poisoning yourself.” He puts the cup up to his lips and tips it back. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, the muscles of his neck visible to you until they disappear into his collar bones. You wish you could run your fingers down the column of his throat and watch goosebumps rise in your wake. If he would even have anyone.

It must be the drinks. That’s the only reason you can think of to explain why you want to place your hand there and feel his skin. To touch him.

“Neither of us should be drinking this, Y/N-ya,” he says. There’s no sterness in his tone like he would if he was lecturing you, in fact, you realize your captain’s likely joking with you…in his own way.

“Well, sometimes you have to die a little to live a little.” You wink at him.

Law’s lips part a little and his eyes widen. “I–You–” He looks away from you and takes another sip. “That’s your justification? Ridiculous.”

“It sure is!” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you take a small step closer, deciding to tease him a little. After all, he started it first by sneaking up on you, “what’s yours?”

Law stares at you—speechless.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You don’t have time to hide your laughter except behind your hand. “You don’t need to justify yourself, Law. I’m just happy you’re here!”

Warmth spreads across your captain’s face. It travels up to the tips of his ears which look crimson next to his spotted white hat and down his chest to the heart tattoo that rests there. For a moment you fixate on his skin, the ink swirling across it, the blood pumping underneath, a sign that he’s alive and solid, standing in front of you. Curiosity rears its untameable head, how can you know he’s solid if you’ve never touched him? A missing piece of Law sits in front of you and you want.

“Just don’t drink too much,” he says quickly and side steps to walk around you.

You watch him go, shaking your head with a smile. “I would say, hope he does the same, but it’d be funny if he didn’t.”

“Y/N!!” Nami calls. “Where’s my drink!?”

“Coming!”

Later…

Oh yeah, you’ve done it now. Somewhere between fruitlessly trying to keep up with Nami, drowning your thoughts of Law, and enjoying the party, you’re certain you’ve overdone it…and you’ve only accomplished the latter.

“That’s enough or I’m gonna die,” you stand up and your head swims. You use the chair you were sitting in to stablize yourself.

“Boo!” Shachi says weakly. Although his head is resting on the table, barely awake.

“Yeah, Boo!” Nami repeats.“Who’s gonna watch me drain your crew of all their money?!”

You shrug,“Bepo will.”

The first mate of the Heart Pirates was laid out on the floor asleep.

“Any chance you know where Law is?”

“Last I saw him, he went outside,” Penguin says. He grins and laughs a little before slipping out of his chair with a thud.

Safe to say the Heart Pirates were a crew of light weights.

You stumble toward the door that leads out to the balcony. Outside the night air is cold enough to send a shiver through you, but Penguin didn’t send you out there for nothing. Law is sitting with his legs between the balcony bars, his head leaning on another. In the light of paper lanterns you saw his hand moving in quick small movements. Next to him sat an empty bottle of umeshu.

“Either you’re jacking off out here or you’re working. Only one of those things would be disappointing to me,” you say. In the back of your mind you know you’d never say something like that out loud but alcohol makes your lips loose.

The sound Law makes is less than controlled as he jerks a book shut and sits on it. “NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN!”

You start laughing and fall down next to him unceremoniously, nearly landing flat on your back. “I’m sorry, captain! I couldn’t–I couldn’t help myself!” you howl with laughter. “Please! I didn’t–the joke was just right there!”

You hear Law grumble-slur something, but he’s either too drunk or too tired to get up and leave you because he stays where he is.

“I mean it,” you say, catching your breath. “I am sorry. I just came out here to tell you I think the party’s dying down. You can come inside if you want to. It’s only supposed to get colder tonight.”

“I will when I’m ready,” Law slurs.

“As always,” you sigh heavily. “I’ve learned to stop expecting you to do something just because I think it’s a good idea

That wins you a brief smile from your captain, a rarity, surely brought out of him by the drink alone. “You…you can stay,” he says quietly. “If you’d like to. I don’t care either way. Really, I don’t. ”

Normally, you’d at least begin to believe him, but you know your captain…and he’s already draped half of his long blue coat around you. The scent cologne and antiseptic envelope you.

“You probably should’ve said that before you put your coat around me, Law.”

He tenses for a moment. The brim of his hat hides his eyes. “Forgive me, Y/N-ya I’m being ridiculous,” he mumbles.

So shy!

“I was going to stay anyway,” you say, before he can pull away. “And thank you, I’m probably chillier than I know.”

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while connected only by this moment and Law’s coat draped over both of you. You can feel the warmth radiating from his arm, his side, his thigh, all nearly touching you.

“Did you have a good time?”

“As long as I don’t remember any of this tomorrow, you can tell me I did.”

“Good!” You chirp. “I’ll take it!”

Law picks up the bottle and takes a long pull. “Did you?”

“Yup! It’s the first party I’ve been to in a long time. Actually, I haven’t been to any, but that’s another story from before…well, everything.”

Law snorts, but he doesn’t turn back to leaning his head on the guard bars, instead he stares at you with an expression close to contentment. “Good,” he says.

Your faces stay a few inches from each other. There’s an eyelash resting on his cheek, just out of your reach and before you can think you gently cup your captain’s face and swipe the eyelash away.

In an instant he’s solid. Smooth skin and bone rest just below your fingertips. And somehow, despite the sharp angles of Law’s face all you feel is softness and warmth against your skin. To your surprise he doesn’t move away.

“I’m sorry, you just had an eyelash…” You go to pull your hand back and Law catches your wrist in a grip that’s nearly too tight.

His eyes flutter as he rests his face in your hand. “It feels so nice,” he says. He doesn’t stop you when you slide your fingers up his sideburns into the silky spikes of his hair. You remove his hat and place it beside him.

Contact between you and Law has been minimal, even after you explained your devil fruit only works on inanimate objects. You think he’s been especially cautious around you not to touch you–even if by accident. Touch doesn’t come easy to you, unconsciously building a wall between yourself and others, with Law being the same that wall felt doubly thick. Only to come crashing down over drinks and an errant eyelash. Touching Law plugs a hole dug out of both want and curiosity that you’ve been ignoring.

Law leans into you as if being pulled down by magnetism until he’s almost on top of you. Your thumb settles behind his ear along the nape of his neck and rubs back and forth slowly.

You look down at him, his eyes shut and lips barely parted. If it weren’t for the fingers working up the back of your shirt, you’d think he was asleep. Law’s hand stops at the small of your back, resting there like a warm patch. It feels so utterly right having the captain of the Heart Pirates in your arms, as if holding Law was one of the many things they were made for.

Honesty takes over you. “I think I like being close to you, Law. It feels…warm…good,” you speak softly. If you could be like this all the time you wouldn’t complain. You receive a throaty rumble in response, not unlike a purring animal. “You must be drunk,” you chuckle.

“Extremely.”

You’re not sure if you feel like you’re spinning from all the alcohol or because of this moment with Law. Eventually you begin to hum softly, and sleep begins to take hold of you.

“Y/N-ya,” you hear Law say groggily.

You hum a sound in response to show you’re still awake to listen to him. Law’s arms tighten around you and you understand instantly what he won’t let himself say. Against both your better judgment you drift off to sleep together on the balcony.

The Next Morning…

Law awakens to dawn’s blinding sun and a pounding headache. His mouth feels cottony and his stomach roils in a way that doesn’t immediately threaten vomit but could. The second thing he takes in is that he’s outside; he never made it to his bed or any bed for that matter. And third, you.

You’re still asleep, your chin nearly touching your chest and soft snore escaping you with every exhale. You don’t stir as he pulls himself away from you. The realization that he slept on you rocks through him. The sun’s barely risen and his heart’s already racing.

What did I do?

He rubs at his eyes and scrubs a hand through his hair. Where’s my hat? He quickly finds it and pulls the brim down low enough to block the sun.

Law takes off his jacket and covers you with it, only when he’s wrapped it around your shoulders do you grumble and smack your lips sleepily. “Don’t worry, Law. All’s good, had fun,” you mumble.

He freezes. Out of everything he thought you would say, reassuring him didn’t cross his mind.

Your eyes crack open just enough to look at his stunned face. “Yesterday’s already forgotten.” Loose limbed, you make a sealed lips gesture as if to say your secret's safe with me.

Law stands and grabs his journal. He takes one more glance at you and feels butterflies flutter from his stomach up to his chest. That's the second time he's felt safe around you, he notes. It's information he chooses to ignore.

#i really loved writing this lol #it's the way he tries to flirt with you by sneaking up on you #god he's so clueless I love him #one piece #law x reader #law one piece #trafalgar law #law x y/n

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gaypirate420 · 5 months

Text

Haircut //Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn! reader.

Summary: Jasper did a thing while he was in a mood.

Angst/Fluff. Jasper icon by @jasperhaleobsessed

The vampire steps out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. The water dripping down his yellow hair, his pale hand wipes the steam off the mirror above the sink.

Golden eyes stare at his reflection.

Paper white skin decorated with deep scars. His muscles tensed up. He leans over, his hands holding hard on the sink, cracking it slightly.

It hasn't been a great week.

No, it hasn't been a great month. Year. Decade(s).

Since Victoria and her wannabe army of newborn vampires showed up he's been spiraling each day.

Slowly, the glass have been a drops away from spilling.

The memories just flooded his mind everytime he closed his eyes.

They're always there, but they're more vivid this time, he doesn't like this, Jasper knows this cycle too well, he doesn't want to be part of it again.

He thought he was getting better.

Jasper's been pushing you away and he's an idiot for that because he needs you, he needs you so so so bad but Jasper just can't tell you he's struggling. And he doesn't know why that is. Maybe he feels ashamed for being so weak, so broken.

There's a reason why you and him have been together for almost fifty years. You just bring the best of him and make the pain go away. Always.

A smile creeps on his face but it goes away quickly, he sighs and looks at the mirror one more time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jasper? Sunshine, you in here?" You asked while stepping inside the Cullen's house. The ironey flavor of blood still in your mouth after a successful hunt.

"...yeah." He mumbled from upstairs there was a slight shake on his voice. No waiting for you at the door? No bouquet of flowers? No forehead kiss? No 'Darlin' I missed ya.'?

Something happened. Something bad.

You approached your shared bedroom opening the door slowly.

Your eyes try to process what their seeing.

Jasper was sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes unfocused starring at the locks of hair on the floor. His pale fingers holding a pair of scissors, shaking.

And of course his hair. Short. Cut at random lengths after a fit of raw emotion. Anger. Sadness. Desperation. That's what his aura is filled with.

"Sweetheart..." You called softly and closed the door behind you. The vampire doesn't react to your presence at all, he just looks straight ahead, deep in thought.

Jasper catches on the steps getting closer to him and a gentle hand tilt his chin up gently to make his eyes meet yours. His almost numb expression makes you want to cry. The golden color of his eyes holds no shine, they're dull and empty.

"Hey, sunshine." You whisper softly and cup his face, leaning on your touch and a small gasp leaving his lips, if he was human he'll be all tears right now.

"Oh—it's okay, sweetheart." You whisper reassuringly. The blonde wraps his arms around your waist and holds you close, burying his face on your chest, taking a deep breath and drowning on your comforting scent.

You stroke his now short hair.

"...sorry" He whimpers against your chest trying to find some peace with your touch.

"Why are you apologizing, cowboy?" You whisper softly and caress his face, he can't look at you right now, he feel so ashamed because you're seeing him like this.

"... because— I'm a mess." His voice breaks and he holds closer to you. You just stroke his hair and kiss his forehead.

"...and my hair is ugly now." He added, a bitter chuckle follows. You take the scissors from his shaking hands and brush his hair down.

"May I fix it?" You asked before cutting anything.

"Can you?" He asks hopeless as he closes his eyes, he feels defeated, tired, he just wants to sleep but he can't sleep because of his nature.

"Well... either way I think you'll look handsome bald." You try to lighten the mood and it surprisingly works because his frown turns into a smirk. He nods and allows you to fix his hair.

You lean down to kiss his lips, a tender, slow and gentle kiss. He holds the kiss for longer, the feeling of your lips against his are a great distraction from the memories that are haunting him.

Jasper closes his eyes as you work on his hair. He doesn't know if the silence is dreadful or comfortable.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? I'm very worried about you, don't think I don't notice how distant you've been." You whisper with a serious expression.

He shakes his head slowly, the idea of discussing his feelings and pain being something he is not ready to do just yet. Your touches help in distract him.

"...maybe later, darlin', I'm sorry." Jasper whispers as he keep my eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of your fingers through his hair to avoid a relapse of his previous train of thought. He takes a couple of deep breaths as the gentle movement of your fingers helps him calm down and have a clearer mindset.

"Done." You said softly and clean his sweater from the fallen hair. You take on his image, his new look.

"You look real pretty, Jazz." You smiled, Jasper returned the smile in a much weaker way. He doesn't check himself in the mirror, he trusts you and knows you did a much better work than he did.

"....thank you, sugar." He whispers, feeling a little tired from all this. He holds your hand and kisses your palm.

"Cuddles?" You whisper back, he nods and picks you up to throw you in the bed with him.

He nuzzles his face on your neck, holding you so close to him. He takes a deep deep breath and closes his eyes.

".... you're- stuck with me forever...I'm sorry. You deserve someone better. I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He whispers against your skin.

"I'm happy to have you forever. I don't want anybody else." You whisper back and kiss the top of his head. He smiles weakly and hols you close, nuzzling to you like a needy kitten.

"...and I'm happy I got you too. I don't know who I'll be without you." Jasper closes his eyes and leaves gentle kisses on your neck.

"I love you so much." You whisper.

"I love you more." He answer with a gentle whisper.

"hmmm, I don't think so. I love you more than that." You speak teasingly, he chuckles softly and hugs you tightly.

"I love ya a hundred times that." He answers with a weak voice, like he's very sleepy.

"Well, I love you a thousand times that." You speak with a following giggle, Jasper chuckles and kisses your lips once more.

He's going to be okay. Here in your arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: heyyyy, here's an angsty fic because an idea came to my mind thinking about why did Jasper has such a radical haircut in between movies. And I was like "that's how you cut your hair after a breakdown." Y'know? So here's this, hope you like it, requests are open!

#jasper whitlock hale #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x male reader #effervescent #twilight x reader

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greg-montgomery · 7 months

Text

any other world - part 1

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

prologue

once again a huge thanks to this angel @criminalskies 🥹🫂🩷

(38)

“Haley, I said no.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to that name.” She smiled; Aaron assumed it wasn’t a genuine reaction, but more of an attempt to lighten up the mood.

This happened a lot. She’d say something that made him think of you, he’d have a reaction, and she’d pretend she didn’t notice. It broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“If you have a different name in mind I’m open to suggestions,” she added, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned in to kiss her. “Just any other name besides Jack. Please.”

“Okay.”

(20)

“Aaron…” you whined, kicking one of the pillows that decorated your bed on the floor. “Be done with it already.”

“My exam is at 8 am. I won’t have any time to revise in the morning. Just give me thirty more minutes.”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

“I know. But if I come to your bed to study, I will not be studying,” he argued, since there was no need of you to say anything for him to get what you were insinuating.

“I’ll just lay my head on your chest. I promise I won’t even talk to you.”

“Fine,” he said, always unable to say no to you; even though your weight on him and your sweet scent would definitely make the letters on his papers start dancing.

But you kept your promise. You carefully laid on him, letting him wrap one of his arms around you. The only thing you did before closing your eyes was kissing the inside of his wrist, just like you did every night.

“Good night.”

“Good night, tulip,” he whispered and turned his attention back to his notes. He’d ace the test and then he’d get to hear the words ‘I’m so proud of you, baby!’ from your sweet lips. Then all the sleepless nights of studying would be worth it.

(21)

That couldn’t be right. There was no way that was right.

H.B.

Aaron would never forget the heartbroken look on your face when you saw those letters. The way your excited smile faded into an expression that went straight through his heart and made it bleed.

He was desperate to comfort you, but how could he find the right words to say when his whole world was crumbling in front of his eyes too? Every single dream, every single plan for the future, every single promise had vanished into thin air.

“These are not my initials,” you said quietly. You were still holding his hand in yours, staring at the new mark on his skin.

“Baby…” he whispered, cupping your cheek.

“No, Aaron,” you said, your eyes slowly filling with tears, “These are not my initials.”

Aaron pulled you into his arms as you broke down crying. You were holding onto him with a strength he didn’t know you had. He rubbed your back, trying to clear up his own thoughts.

How could the girl in his arms not be his soulmate? His best friend, his lover, his partner in everything? You were his family.

“I don’t care,” he whispered in your ear. “I don’t care what the mark says. You’re my soulmate.”

“I’m not,” you sobbed, pulling back so you could sit face to face again.

“You are. You’re the love of my life.”

“Apparently I’m not though,” you raised your voice. He knew you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at life. “God, Aaron, what the fuck? How could we have been so wrong?”

“We haven’t been wrong. I’m not gonna let an unknown fucking force decide who I’m spending my life with. You’re the one I want and I’m staying with you.”

“That’s not how it goes.”

“That’s exactly how it goes.”

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, the way you always did to calm yourself down.

“Maybe we’re just meant to be friends.”

Aaron grabbed your jaw with his hand and pulled your face close to his, “Tell me when I was inside you earlier making you cry about how good you felt, did it feel like we were meant to be just friends?”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and removed his hand from your face. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“That’s actually all that matters to me.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips. “What are we going to do, Aaron?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, as long as we’re together.”

“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

“I know, my tulip.”

“It’s unfair,” you added, like a kid whose toy was stolen by their sibling.

“I know. But I love you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Aaron was grateful you let him hold you when he pulled you into a warm embrace. But it was impossible to keep the thoughts from running into dark places. Like the clear skin on your own wrist which would be soon stained with initials that weren’t going to be his either.

(21)

It felt like the mark on Haley’s wrist was mocking you.

A.H.

The two letters you had been craving all your life to have them written on your skin, were decorating her wrist instead.

Haley was beautiful, smart, popular. The perfect girl next door.

You and Aaron had met her in high school. She was staring in a school play he was forced to participate in because of a bet he’d lost. You got along with her pretty well, and so did Aaron.

Back then you weren’t worried over the way they both used to geek over Star Wars – which you simply couldn’t get into, no matter how hard Aaron had tried to make you love – during rehearsals. You weren’t worried when he’d invited her to his birthday party that year and you had noticed her eyes sparkle when he had played his favorite Beatles’ song.

Back then none of that mattered. Because back then, Aaron was your soulmate.

Yet you still couldn't hate Haley, because she was in pain too.

Her birthday only a month after Aaron’s had confirmed your suspicions that his soulmate was her. And you could relate to her heartbreak, when Aaron had to break the news to her. When he informed her that no matter what their wrists said, he was choosing you instead.

Neither of you truly had him, and in that way you understood her.

(21)

“Here.” You placed the hot cup of coffee you’d made for Aaron, next to his book.

“Thank you, honey,” he said, reaching out his hand to touch your waist under your shirt. With that motion he pulled you close to him, so you were standing right in front of his chair.

He wrapped his arms around you and your own hands got lost between his hair. Aaron left a tiny kiss on your stomach and looked up at you. “I’m anxious.”

“You’re going to do great. You’ve been studying non-stop for days now.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted.

“You’re always so hard on yourself.” Your thumb rubbed the short hair on his temples as you kissed the tip of his nose. The nose kiss was followed by a soft one on his lips, before you pulled away again. “You’re doing more than enough. And I’m so proud of you.”

His dimples made an appearance and your heart smiled at your success. “There’s my boy.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. You could just pinch his cheeks every time you made him shy.

“Do you want me to help? We can go through some questions together. I’ll ask, you’ll answer.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking through his notes. “Haley gave me-”

At the realization of saying her name, he paused.

“It’s okay, you can mention her around me, I’m not gonna break,” you said, hoping you successfully hid the fact that you were annoyed.

He cleared his throat and continued. “Her cousin took the same exams last year, so she gave me his notes. He has written down all the questions that were on the test.”

“Good then. Let’s get to work.”

(45)

“Good night, buddy,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on his son’s forehead. Jack usually replied with a ‘Good night, daddy,’ but he was already fast asleep.

As Aaron made his way to the living room in order to clear up the floor from his son’s toys, he heard a knock on his door.

He walked towards it as silently as he could, and looked through the peep hole; the fear of a possible intruder still poisoning his blood.

But the face he saw on the other side of the door took his breath away.

A face he hadn’t seen in years. A face he saw every night in his sleep.

He didn’t let a second more to pass before opening his door.

“Y/N?” he said in a breath.

Your eyes were red, and full of tears. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

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