#wanted to write something short and got carried away lol

[ashen-char]

i say that i hate you with a smile on my face 🔞

ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader

warnings: explicit smut so minors get out. hate sex, sex while driving

summary: amber is furious after seeing you with another girl at a party. the only way to deal with her jealousy is to fuck it out of her.

word count: 2700+

By the time the party ends, it's almost 3am. Early hours have always felt so strange to you, so mysterious that liminal time past midnight and before the sun rises. Everything feels slower. Less alive, almost. There aren't any other cars on the street, aren't any lights on in the houses you pass as you make your way back to Amber's.

The radio is off and the streets are quiet. You almost wish that Amber would go right back to yelling at you because at least it wouldn't be this mind-numbing silence. You're so tense, shoulders stiff and defensive, your grip a vice on the wheel.

You had danced with another girl, sure.

Chad had introduced you to some new girl that Liv had befriended and told to come. You can't even remember what her name was. When Liv got roped into a night shift and couldn't go, she'd told her friend to stick to a familiar face.

Really, you think that Chad just wanted to ditch her on you so that Liv wouldn't tear him a new one for leaving her friend while he got wasted. You owed Chad a solid for helping you score a reservation at some fancy restaurant for you and Amber's anniversary after you forgot it, and you didn't see the harm. That was your first mistake.

Amber's expression is unreadable, her grip white-knuckled on her knee as she stares out the window of your car. Speaking first would feel like you lost - you still don't think you did anything wrong, feels that Amber's reaction was way too far. And you're stubborn. But Amber is even more so. And your relationship is more valuable than winning... whatever this is, so

"I didn't do anything," you say for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

"You hear how you sound right now?" Amber snarls, her own shoulders tensing up. "That's what everyone says when they're caught. I didn't do anything," she imitates your voice in a whine.

Mocking you? How mature.

Letting go of her knee, Amber folds her arms over her chest, looking away from you again. You can see her roll her eyes and scoff a “whatever” under her breath.

You grit your teeth. Possible responses whir through your brain - a joke, an apology, something to diffuse the situation. You know what you should do, know that Amber’s only jealous because she’s desperate for reassurance from you. But God is it exhausting navigating Amber's complex emotions when she doesn't even care if she hurts yours.

Tonight was supposed to be fun for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to go to a party and have a blast, not get into another stupid argument.

Amber hasn't apologised a single time since you two started dating. She hasn't once promised she'd be better like you always do for her. She had yelled at you the second you two left the party, fighting from the porch all the way to the car. She wouldn’t hear you out even once as you were vehemently denying her accusations. You truly believe that you shouldn’t be the one to apologise. Not this time.

So this time, you don't do that. Your hand reaches out, sliding over to the passenger seat until you're grazing Amber's thigh. "What did you think you saw me do, huh?" you say.

“What are you-”

"You think I touched her?" Your fingers trail their way up. The fabric of her leggings is thin, so you can feel the heat of Amber’s skin as you caress her inner thigh. It’s a tease, a war of nerves, wondering when the other will give in. "Like this?"

Amber's still worked up, blood still pumping; the adrenaline from the argument is rushing through her veins. But you know that no matter how pissed off she is at you, there’s no way she’d push you away. You swear she actually moves closer.

“You would,” Amber challenges. “You know, if I knew you were gonna be another unfaithful piece of shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you.”

You can tell from her tone that she’s trying to rile you up on purpose. Like she’s enjoying getting under your skin. She wants you as heated as she is so it becomes a level playing field. Amber does this whenever you two have a fight, like she's just waiting for you to blow up at her so you feel as insane as she does about you. You know it's all coming from the same place as the jealousy does. She feels so fucking much about you that she's begging for more. Needs retribution so bad. Needs to feel something.

"Sometimes I swear you start fights out of nowhere on purpose," you say. On her upper inner thigh now, your hand squeezes, almost hard enough to bruise. Your thumb runs up down, up down, never quite getting close enough to where she wants it. "Because you like when I touch you while you pretend to hate my guts."

"You're an idiot. Why would I want you to touch me?" Amber clenches her thighs, holding your hand in place, preventing it from slipping back down. You can hear how her breathing gets laboured. She's too stubborn to admit that she wants you to keep going, but you both know it. She can't help the mix of hatred and lust that fuels her veins right now. "I do hate you. I hate you so goddamn much."

A red light. You breathe out in relief.

Finally, your attention doesn't need to be split between the road and this argument. You can see the smile on her face as she swears that she hates you. Good. That wild look in her eyes tells you that you can be more aggressive with her. Amber loves that. 

Your hand slips up right where she wants it, until you're cupping at her center. Only a thin scrap of fabric separate your fingers from the cunt you love so much. You could do it. You could tear through her leggings and fuck the shit out of her. Amber's legs part for you and you swear you hear her whimper.

"What would you do if I did flirt with her, huh?" you say. "Would you break up with me?"

"Fuck you," she spits, though with her shortness of breath it sounds more like a plead. "I bet you wanted to get her to some spare room. You're desperate enough. Were you hoping to get your fingers wet with some other bitch even when you went there with your girlfriend?"

Her mouth is so filthy. You should do something about that. Amber shouldn't be allowed to talk right now. "What's your fucking problem? I was with you all night!"

God, this is fun. Amber's grinning and her eyes shine, the golden light coming in from the streetlights and making everything glow. You squeeze. The meat of your palm is grinding up against her clit but it isn't enough. Not with all that clothing between you. She moans, clenching her legs once more, needing more pressure there.

"You're my problem!" Amber shrieks.

Fuck.

The second you're about to leap in and devour Amber in a kiss, the light you're stopped at turns green. The car behind you honks and you're forced to turn your attention back to the road. Amber lets out a frustrated groan at that - that stupid honking throwing the moment entirely.

"You know what, screw this," she says. You hear Amber unclick her seatbelt, and before you can tell her to strap back in she grabs your hand.

"What are you-" You barely get the words out before your hand is shoved down into her leggings.

Amber's soaked. She's as sticky and warm as the last time you touched her, and you know just how good she'd taste right now too. It isn't your dominant hand - that one is busy on the wheel - so you actually haven't touched her with this one before. It's unfamiliar territory and the same all at once. She pushes her panties to the side with her own hand but it'll be yours that she makes do all the work.

"Shut up. I need this." A low guttural sound escapes her lips as she finally, finally feels your hand where she wants it. Her head tilts back and you feel her thighs squeeze at that first sharp sensation of pleasure. "Shut your mouth and drive," she practically hisses.

You have to focus on the road. The guy behind you is already pissed from how slow you were to keep driving after the green light, and how Amber had given him the middle finger. He's driving so close behind you know that a single slip up could mean a crash. You're so fucked. Especially your fingers, which Amber is sliding her slit up and down on, collecting her wetness with a satisfying shlick.

"Amber," you try to warn. As hot as this is, you do not want to get into an accident because your girlfriend was just so horny during a fight.

Her mouth hangs open in pleasure as she rubs her clit against your palm. It's so much better when you can feel her. You wish you could turn to look. But you can feel Amber's eyes on you, probably still glaring at you with the same hateful glare she had earlier.

"She wouldn't be this wet for you," she tells you.

The girl at the party could not be further from your mind right now. "I don't give a shit about her," you admit. "God, you're so wet, baby." You can feel your own excitement between your legs, can see how your windows are starting to fog up as both of your breaths heat the air.

She lets out a moan, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "That's right. Because you're mine." Her nails dig into the flesh of your forearm, a threat to scratch you up if you so much as attempt to move away. 

Your fingers slip inside. Two at once. Amber normally likes to play the long game and build up to more, letting you tease her with one sliding in and out until she screams at you for more. But the thrill of the danger and anger and jealousy is getting to both of you. Her hips grind and wind as she rides your fingers, while your other hand desperately grips onto the wheel as you will yourself to concentrate on the road.

"Say it," Amber breathes out. "You're only mine."

A part of you thinks that'd be no fun. "You should've trusted me," you say instead. It's so much more fun when she's seething. It's like her anger is heating up her insides. She feels different. You curve your fingers inside her and she cries out.

"Fuck!"

"Yeah? You loving my fingers in your pussy?" You wriggle the two until you're pressing at the spot that always drives Amber crazy. But it's clumsy. You never use this hand and eventually it'll cramp up and get tired. You know you're doing your job well when she digs her nails in even harder and her hips thrust. Neither of you give a shit when the car behind you honks and overtakes you.

She's too wound up right now, too far gone. Her mouth twists into a vicious smile that you can't see, but you can hear it in her voice. "Y-you wish," Amber struggles out. "You think you're so good. I'm using you here, not the other way around."

She rides your fingers like that for a few minutes. As you had suspected, the lack of practice means that your forearm is already getting tired. As hot as this is, you can't pump as easily as you could if you were on a bed, not worrying about driving. You can tell that Amber is getting frustrated. Maybe that's making it better.

Everything is a blur of rage and lust until you realise you've driven right past her house. Whatever. You're dying to stop the goddamn car and set Amber right. You slam the brakes now that there's no car behind you to hit, sending the car lurching to a stop. Your fingers slide deeper into her cunt with the movement and it makes her scream.

You pull into a residential side street, one even quieter than the rest. Finding a spot to turn off the engine and throw the car into park is easy enough when your brain is putting I need to fuck her right now over safety.

The second that ignition goes off, Amber is already on you. You slip your tired hand away, the other going to her leggings and slipping them off. Her expression is still twisted in that rage that never quite goes away - she hates you, she hates you, she hates you - but she loves you so much when you shove three fingers into her.

You feel her tongue invading your mouth, probing and searching, while her hands continue to grip and claw at your clothes. It's like she's trying to claim you; she wants to take away all evidence of you being your own person, to take away your control.

"Is this what you wanted?" Amber whispers against your mouth. "Why do you make me feel like? You want to see me like this? Huh?"

It's reckless and out of control and perfect. You don't even care that any second you could get caught. You could lose yourself in this moment, in this golden haze that illuminates your fogged up windshield. The car's starting to sway with your movements.

"How do I make you feel, baby?" Her pussy feels so good as you surge your fingers in deeper. "Tell me."

"Like I'm going crazy," she whispers, her voice breaking a little with emotion. It's too much. It was too much then at the party, when she saw you dancing with some other girl, too much when you started touching her. 

Everything about what you're doing to her is bringing Amber closer and closer to that point of no return. "Like you're making me crave you." Her hips rock against you again, her breasts soft as they rub against you too.

This is Amber making you feel the way you make her feel. When you dance with other girls, when you don't text back for hours, when you forget your anniversary. Every time you brushed off an insult and didn't let a fight escalate, this is what she wanted. How pent up she must have been, swallowing down the rage and accepting your apologies.

Amber whines when your thumb grazes against her clit. Every bit of her feels like it's tingling and she's practically soaking your lap at this point. "I hate you but I can't live without you." Amber sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "It scares and excites me at the same time. I- I've never cared this much."

You keep pumping right back into her, never stopping, only growing more and more intense. Her body trembles but you're holding her. Amber's hands grasp at your forearm again, like she can't decide whether to push you away or pull you in. You don't know what to say. She was enjoying the fight earlier, instigated it even, but she's so vulnerable now.

"You're the only one I want," is what you end up settling on. Your thumb stops those teasing grazes now, rubbing against her clit proper. Her wetness makes it so easy. "And I am yours."

This is what makes Amber shudder and dissolve in your arms. The tension finally breaks and she starts squirming against you, fingers lodged so deep into her body it's like you're grazing at something deeper, body shaking violently. She's so close, so impossibly close, a moment of pure ecstasy that lasts seconds before falling apart in a burst of heat and pleasure.

"You're mine!" This she shouts so loud you'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn't wake up.

You two fall silent for a moment, both taking slow, shuddering breaths. Amber can feel her brain is still short circuiting, trying to calm down; it's like her stomach has been replaced with a ball of fire.

"Still hate me?" you whisper, leaning in to kiss Amber.

"Just shut up, okay," she murmurs, kissing back happily now, her voice still raw from the edge of tears and the intense orgasm that had wracked her body. "Don't ever do that again."

#mikey madison #amber freeman #mikey madison x reader #amber freeman x reader #scream 2022 #scream 5 #amber freeman smut #wanted to write something short and got carried away lol

[sunsburns]

kiss of life (ii.)

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!daughter reader

part one

summary: i actually suck at writing summaries but basically this is part two of part one of that soulmate au fic i posted a week ago lol

—or: luke castellan is being haunted by kronos and... well, you.

word count: 6.42k

warnings: sorry for any spelling errors, i haven’t checked yet, suppperrr angsty, luke castellan pov as he's slowly being corrupted by kronos, long reading time, descriptive injuries, blood, pre-tlt, luke is stubborn and a dick, loser!luke, annabeth smacking some sense to luke, grover being an icon, reader is lowkey unreliable tbh... cliff hanger (again... lmfao sorry)

a/n: part two!!! thank you guys for all the love on the first part! i am so grateful for everything and i love reading all the comments and reblogs. i hope this one doesn't end up flopping lmfaooo. i honestly wanted this to be a short angsty fic but i got carried away and now i'm planning a whole multi-part fic for this, phew. anyways enjoyyy <;33

At eighteen, Luke was cursed with nightmares. 

They clawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to unravel the fragile front of peace that he had fought so hard to maintain. Each night, he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, the echoes of his tortured dreams lingering in the corners of his mind like a haunting melody.

The Hermes cabin, once a sanctuary from the outside world, now felt like a prison, its walls closing in around him with each passing moment. The moon, a silent witness to his torment, cast its ethereal glow through the window, illuminating the slumbering forms of campers. Some were children of Hermes, like himself, bound by the tenuous ties of blood and kinship. Others, however, were unclaimed, their parentage shrouded in mystery and uncertainty.

And as Luke lay awake in the stillness of the night, a sense of loneliness washed over him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of doubt. In the depths of his troubled sleep, he could feel the tendrils of darkness closing in around him, threatening to consume him whole. And try as he might to deny it, he knew that his nightmares held a deeper significance, a harbinger of events yet to unfold in the shadowy pits of fate.

His nightmares were callings. A taunting voice would echo through the corridors of his mind, its insidious whispers weaving a thought of deceit and manipulation. It masqueraded as a voice of reason, a beacon beckoning him towards a destiny that promised demigods everything.

At first, Luke dismissed it as nothing more than the ramblings of a tortured soul, the byproduct of his own restlessness. But as the whispers grew louder and more insistent, he could no longer ignore the chilling realization that they were something far more sinister—a call to arms, a summons to embrace his role as a harbinger of the new world.

The nights he wasn't shaking from night terrors, he was tossing and turning at the thought of you. And he didn’t know what was worse. He couldn't escape you. The haunting image of you lingered in his mind even during sleep — your lips, your eyes, your skin, your voice, and that shared scar and your demise.

But at least, you'd given up on him by then. Your persistent efforts to reach out to Luke gradually dwindled into nothingness. Though you were still everywhere, a shadow that seemed to torment his every move, you no longer gave him even a fraction of your attention.

Gone were the days of you seeking him out, your footsteps no longer echoing in the halls of Camp Half-Blood in search of him. You refrained from asking for Chris's help, no longer burdening him with questions on Luke's whereabouts. The notes you once left behind were now relics of a time long past, their words fading with each passing day.

And as the full moon rose once more over the waters of the lake, you no longer waited by its shores.

Luke turned in bed, his mind restless as he tried to shake the image of you. He pulled the covers tighter around himself, seeking comfort in the warmth they provided, but the chill of unease still lingered in the air.

His gaze drifted across the row of beds, each a testament to the diverse personalities that inhabited the Hermes cabin. The floor was strewn with a chaotic array of sleeping bags, toys, and discarded clothing, while a collection of rocks adorned one corner near the closets, and drawings adorned the walls.

Despite the usual chaos that reigned during the day, the cabin now lay quiet and still. The children of Hermes, along with the unclaimed children and the ones of minor gods, had finally settled into the embrace of sleep. 

But amidst the calm, a sense of unease gnawed at Luke's consciousness. He couldn't shake the feeling that had settled over him after he noticed the empty bed and the slightly ajar door. 

Luke pushed back the covers and rose from his bed. His footsteps echoed softly as he made his way toward the empty bottom bunk, hoping not to wake anyone. The sight of an old penguin stuffed animal discarded at the foot of the bed made him edgy. His eyes trailed to the traces of blood splattered on the hardwood floor, stark against the dim light filtering through the cabin windows.

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Luke picked up the toy, its soft white and black material now stained with crimson. Clutching it tightly in his hand, he made his way out of the cabin, the urgency of his steps echoing in the stillness of the night.

He knew all too well who the missing camper was – five-year-old Penelope, one of the newest arrivals to Camp Half-Blood and possibly one of the youngest campers. Found wandering alone in the woods near the camp hill just a week ago, she had been brought to safety by a group of fellow demigods on a quest. Luke couldn't shake the resemblance she bore to a younger Annabeth, with her wide eyes and insatiable thirst for knowledge. He wouldn't be surprised if Athena claimed her as her own one day–that is if he ever found her.

Luke's worry for Penelope weighed heavily on his mind, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest as he combed through every inch of camp. The traces of blood he discovered fueled his unease, each droplet a stark reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the safety of the camp's borders.

In his search, Luke traversed familiar paths and hidden corners, his footsteps echoing in the quiet stillness of the night. He scoured the armour, the climbing wall, and the camp store.

Luke had known all about campers disappearing, whether it be on a quest or to escape and try to live a normal life with humans that never really lasted long enough as monsters would dwell within the shadows outside of camp. 

It was in the dim glow of the kitchen lights that Luke finally caught a glimpse of Penelope, perched on the counter in her pyjamas, her hair adorned with two loose pigtails. A sense of relief washed over him at the sight of her safe and sound, yet it was short-lived as he noticed she wasn't alone.

His hand hovered over the door, hesitating as he listened to the soft murmur of conversation from within. With a steady breath, Luke pushed the door open ever so slightly, peering through the crack to catch a glimpse of Penelope. And you.

You, who looked older than when you first met in the infirmary. There was an air of maturity about you, a gracefulness that hadn't been there before. Your features seemed more refined, your presence commanding attention in a way that spoke of inner strength and resilience. Luke couldn't help but notice how your beauty had blossomed, surpassing the standards of mere mortal allure. It was a beauty that seemed to defy classification, uniquely yours yet undeniably captivating.

Despite this, Luke sensed a shift in your demeanour—a resignation, perhaps, to the reality of his ignorance. You had lost any hope you once harboured for him. His guarded nature would forever keep you at arm's length. And while part of him knew that this was for the best, a small, almost imperceptible part of him couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret.

For in the crossroads of his heart, amidst the shadows that threatened to consume him, there lingered a faint glimmer of longing. The thought of being intertwined with someone who could offer solace in his darkest moments, who could bring light to the depths of his despair, held an undeniable appeal. And as much as he tried to deny it, the chance of you approaching him once more tugged at the fringes of his resolve, tempting him to let down his guard and allow you closer than he ever dared to imagine.

"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing up this late?" You approached Penelope with a gentle smile, a cookie in your hand as a peace offering. 

Your words hung in the air, gentle and coaxing, as you tried to draw Penelope out of her shell. Luke watched from the shadows, his gaze flickering between you and the young camper, a sense of admiration stirring at how you spoke to Penelope.

Penelope hesitated, her gaze shifting between the cookie in her hand and you. 

"You don't know?" You persisted, your voice a soft murmur that carried a hint of playfulness. You settled beside Penelope on the counter, your posture was relaxed as you leaned in closer to her. "Is it... a secret?" you whispered.

Luke noted the subtle change in your demeanour, the way you seemed to adapt effortlessly to Penelope's shy nature. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, one that resonated deeply with him.

As Penelope nodded in response to your question, you continued, your tone gentle and reassuring. "Let me tell you a secret," you offered, holding up your pinky finger as a symbol of trust. "I am the best secret keeper in this camp. I pinky promise."

After a moment's hesitation, Penelope tentatively reached out, her tiny finger linking with yours in a hesitant pinky promise. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

Penelope murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I got hurt."

"What?" You gasped in genuine concern, your eyes widening as you shifted your attention to the young camper. "Can I see?"

Penelope nodded silently, her arm outstretched towards you. Luke observed from his vantage point, his heart twisting with worry as he noted the faint hint of red near Penelope's elbow.

You took Penelope's arm into your hands gently, your touch tender and reassuring as you rolled up the sleeves of her pale pink pyjamas. Luke couldn't help but notice the familiarity of those pyjamas, a subtle reminder of Annabeth's kindness and resourcefulness in making Penelope feel at home.

"Oh, wow, that looks like it hurts," You remarked softly, your brows furrowing in sympathy as you retrieved a first aid kit from the nearby cabinets. "You're handling it very well," you praised Penelope, your tone gentle and encouraging. "So brave of you."

Penelope watched you attentively as you began to clean her wound, her small frame tense with discomfort. "I don't feel brave," she admitted quietly.

"No?" You glanced up at her, "why not?"

"I miss my mommy."

Her words were tinged with a sense of longing that struck a chord with both you and Luke.

Luke chewed on the inside of his cheek, his thoughts drifting to his own longing for his mother. Penelope's admission resonated with him deeply, reminding him of the ache that never truly faded, no matter how many years passed, no matter how deep he tried to bury it. 

It was a sentiment shared by every demigod at camp, a silent ache that echoed through the cabins and training grounds. Yet, it was a pain rarely spoken aloud as if verbalizing it would make it all too real, too unbearable.

The yearning for a parent, for someone to fill the void left by their absence, weighed heavily on each camper's shoulders. It was a burden they carried silently, masking their vulnerability with bravado and determination. But for Penelope, the longing was raw in its innocence.

At just five years old, she was too young to fully comprehend the extent of her emotions. She couldn't grasp the complexities of her situation, the world of gods and monsters that surrounded her. All she knew was the absence of a mother's embrace, the absence of a comforting presence to soothe her fears and wipe away her tears.

It was a pain she didn't deserve, a burden too heavy for such a young soul to bear. The gods, in their arrogance and indifference, seemed oblivious to the lives they had shattered, and the pain they had inflicted upon their own children.

"Yeah?" You responded gently, "How much do you miss her?"

"This much," Penelope replied, her small hands spreading wide.

"Wow! That's a lot," you remarked, a sombre note underlying your tone as you processed Penelope's words. After a beat of silence, you shook off the heaviness of the moment and mustered a smile for her. "There we go. All cleaned up," you announced cheerfully, pressing a bandaid onto her elbow.

Penelope's smile widened in response, a glimmer of gratitude shining in her eyes as she kicked her feet. In a quiet voice barely above a whisper, she murmured her thanks to you.

"So, you wanna tell me how you got hurt?"

"I don't know." This had been the most Luke had ever seen Penelope talk, and while her voice was still timid, the words slipping out hesitantly, she seemed to confide in you. "I woke up because my arm hurt."

"The cut was just there?" You asked, and when she nodded, you hummed sympathetically. "...I get those too, you know."

Penelope's eyes widened, "You do?"

"Yes," you affirmed with a soft chuckle. "A lot of people do. You get them from your soulmate. Did your mom ever tell you about soulmates?"

"Sometimes."

"Well, a long time ago, humans used to have four arms, four legs, and two faces," You explained.

"What?"

"I know, right? Super freaky. So freaky that Zeus decided to split them in half. So, now we have two arms, two legs, and one face."

"What happened to the other half?"

"That's our soulmate. Our other half. And Aphrodite gave us a gift to help us find our soulmate." The smile that had adorned your face slowly waned, "Every time you get hurt, your soulmate gets hurt too."

"Is that why you have a cut on your face?"

The question lingered, hanging in the air like a whispered secret. Luke held his breath, his gaze fixed on you, waiting for your response. But instead of answering, you reached out to Penelope, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you guided her off the counter.

"Let's get you back to your cabin."

Your words were gentle, a soft reassurance for Penelope's sake, but Luke could sense the undercurrent of sadness that ran beneath them. As you led Penelope away, Luke's heart ached in a way that felt so familiar yet foreign at the same time. It burned the same way it did when he returned from the quest when he hated the world and everyone in it, but this time, the only person he could find himself hating was himself.

He retreated from the door, clutching the stuffed animal in his hands. He felt a fleeting reminder of the times he would hide from the monsters with Thalia.

Luke's mind swirled with discordant emotions, each thought a whirlwind of uncertainty. He knew he didn't deserve your answer, didn't deserve the solace of your words. He had made it clear too many times to count that he never wanted a soulmate, never wanted you.

But despite his protests, despite the walls he had built around his heart, Luke couldn't deny the tug that pulled him to you, the hunger in his soul that refused to be ignored. It was a longing he couldn't shake, a yearning that whispered of a connection he dared not embrace. Knowing that keeping you away was the only way to protect you from the darkness that lurked within him was what kept him sane.

"Luke?"

The sound of his name tore Luke out of his thoughts like a violent gust of wind. He spun around, finding you standing on the porch to the kitchens, Penelope at your side. She held your hand, a small beacon of warmth and light in the dimness of the night. 

It seemed too perfect, too surreal, and Luke couldn't help but feel a pang of disbelief. Were you trying to kill him? It had been too long since the last time he spoke to you, let alone stood so close to you, and here you were, the epitome of what a demigod should be, even if you were still in the dreaded bright orange camp shirt.

"Hey," he managed to say.

You continued to descend the stairs, each step cautious and deliberate. "What- uh, what are you doing up?"

"I was actually looking for Penelope." Luke motioned to the girl hiding behind your legs. When he caught her eye, Penelope grinned and let go of your hand, darting over to Luke and jumping into his arms. He lifted her easily, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed her the stuffed toy she had left behind. 

"Oh." You hummed, "I didn't know you're a Hermes kid?"

"I'm unclaimed," Penelope chimed.

"For now," Luke's voice was gentle as he held Penelope in his arms. "And what were you doing up?"

"I was looking for a bandaid. I got lost." Penelope's words were punctuated by a soft yawn, and she nestled her head against Luke's shoulder, her exhaustion evident in every movement.

You hesitated, your gaze shifting to meet Luke's. "I found her by the canoes... near the dock."

The silence that settled between you felt heavy, suffocating almost as if it threatened to engulf you both. Luke found himself wandering back to the memories of you waiting for him at the dock during the summer nights and the regret that weighed heavily on his heart for never approaching you. He remembered the countless times he stood among the trees, watching you from afar, paralyzed by his own insecurities and fears.

Were you waiting for him there tonight? 

No, you couldn't have.

Guilt gnawed at him, threatening to consume him whole. "Listen, I-"

"I'm gonna go." You cut him off abruptly, your voice carrying a hint of tension. "Counsellor duties and all. I've got cabin checks in the morning so... you know, I gotta print papers... and stuff..."

Luke frowned at your lame excuse. "It's midnight."

"It's never too early to start now." You huffed defensively. "Bye, Penelope."

"Bye," Penelope mumbled sleepily, her hand lazily waving in your direction as you walked away, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the trail leading to the Aphrodite cabin.

As they made their way back to the Hermes cabin, Luke held onto Penelope tightly, feeling the weight of her small body in his arms. The night air was cool against his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of shame for the unease he noticed in you earlier. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between you, but the words remained trapped in his throat.

Once they returned to the warmth of their cabin, Luke moved with a careful grace, mindful not to disturb the sleeping campers around them. He gently placed Penelope back on her bed and tucked her in. But as he began to step away, her small hand shot out, wrapping around two of his fingers. Luke froze, eyes wide with surprise.

"Luke?" Penelope's voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence of the cabin like a knife.

"Yeah?" Luke's voice was equally quiet.

"I think your soulmate is really cool." 

Penelope's words hung in the air, a simple statement that carried more weight than he could have ever anticipated.

Seven hours later, the memory of your face lingered in Luke's mind like an unshakeable ghost. Tossing back and forth in his bed, he tried to rid himself of the image, but it clung to him like a shadow. Each time he closed his eyes, your face flashed before him, haunting his thoughts. Even when he turned away, the spectre of Kronos lurked in the depths of his subconscious, a reminder of the choice that still loomed over him.

As morning broke over Camp Half-Blood, Luke found himself seated at the breakfast table, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of his fellow campers. Annabeth's presence brought a brief distraction.

She slid into the seat in front of him during breakfast and gave him a strange look, slightly out of breath from the morning rush, a half-eaten apple in hand.

"Hey," she greeted him, her voice carrying a note of concern. Pausing to tie back her braids, she studied him intently. "Who you looking for?"

Luke's response came too quickly, "No one," he replied, his voice strained. Thankfully, Chris had left earlier because he was in charge of the climbing wall in the morning, he wasn't there to tell Annabeth that Luke had been looking for you. His eyes scanned the sea of faces in the dining hall, a futile attempt to catch sight of you amidst the crowd. He felt pathetic. "What's up with you?"

Annabeth raised her brows. "Archery? Together? Remember? Or did you forget?"

"No. I didn't forget."

She only stared at him, skeptical.

"What?" he asked, "why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Oh, I get it," Annabeth's smirk hinted at a newfound understanding, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the dining hall, as she shook her head and rested her chin on her hand. "How long are you planning to keep this up for?"

Luke frowned, confused.

"This entire act you have with... you know," She didn't need to say your name for him to catch on. "It's getting out of hand, no?"

"I..." Caught off guard by her directness, Luke hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Choosing to play dumb, he feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right." Annabeth's knowing look pierced through his facade. She was always too perceptive for her own good. Fixing him with a narrowed gaze, she gave him a playful kick under the table, the impact enough to draw a startled reaction from Luke. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she took another bite of her apple before teasing him further. "Well, Grover said you're killing yourself."

"What?" He blinked at her, taken aback, "I'm not killing myself. Grover's just being dramatic."

"I don't think so." She said, slowly, carefully forming her words. "I mean, if I had a soulmate..."

Luke's defences bristled at the mention of soulmates, a topic he preferred to avoid. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?" 

"I'm allowed to worry, "Annabeth reminded him, her words tinged with a gentle insistence. "Family, remember?"

The word 'family' carried weight, a reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged over the years. It was a phrase Annabeth often employed to coax Luke out of his shell, to encourage him to confide in her. When they were younger, 'family' meant everything to Luke, thanks in no small part to Annabeth's influence.

"You don't need to worry," Luke assured her, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his resolve. "I know what I'm doing." But did he? Luke longed for the simplicity of a time before he met you when the idea of having a soulmate seemed like a distant fantasy. Now, every decision he made, every scar he bore, carried weight, knowing it could impact you in ways he couldn't comprehend.

"The least you can do is get to know her before she leaves."

Her words struck a chord within him, prompting Luke to cast a discreet glance around the dining hall, searching for you amidst the bustling crowd again.

"She's leaving?"

"Not forever, "Annabeth clarified with a chuckle, "Just on a quest. Search and rescue. Nothing fancy."

"...How do you know this?" he said after a moment.

"Chiron told me," Annabeth shrugged nonchalantly. "He also told me to tell you that the ceremony is tonight. I hope that doesn't kill you."

It did kill him a bit. At least, it felt like it did. Luke Castellan moved through camp with a sense of urgency, his strides purposeful yet tinged with a hint of apprehension. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding weapons, throbbed with a dull ache with the burn from the bow and arrow. 

Shoulders tense, skin prickling under the relentless glare of the sun, he scanned the bustling campgrounds.

The weight of his bow rested heavily on his shoulder, the familiar weight offering a semblance of comfort amidst the chaos. With practiced precision, he counted the arrows in his quiver, his movements fluid and sure. 

Then, he heard it—the sound that drew him like a siren's call. Your voice, lilting and laughter-filled, cut through the clamour of the camp, pulling him toward you like a magnet. There you stood, leaning against the doorway of the Hephaestus cabin, a clipboard clutched to your chest as you exchanged banter with Atticus, the skilled swordsmith whose craftsmanship had forged Luke's sword.

There was something different about you today, something delicate, more approachable than he had ever seen before. Last night, with Penelope, you had worn a similar expression—gentle, caring—but it was a side of you that Luke had never been privileged to witness. With him, you had always been guarded, reserved, as though afraid that he would cut or maim you.

As you scribbled something onto your clipboard, Luke found himself intrigued by the way your smile softened. It was a stark contrast to the confident facade you often wore, and for a moment, Luke felt a pang of guilt for pushing you away so soon.

Unbeknownst to you, you were drawing closer to Luke with each step, your path inexorably leading you toward him. Part of him craved to reach out, while another part hesitated, unsure of how to talk to you after all this time.

"Hey," Luke finally managed to utter as you drew near, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

You paused, a hint of surprise flickering across your features as you registered his presence. "Hi?" Your response was tentative, laced with a hint of confusion. After a moment's hesitation, you glanced down at your clipboard, "I'm not changing my rank on your cabin. I know three is low, but I was being generous."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Luke's lips. He was all too familiar with the chaotic nature of Cabin Eleven, where overcrowding was the norm and taking turns on the sleeping bags was treated as a game. "No, no. I just..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing he hadn't thought through the purpose of seeking you out. "I think we need to talk."

The confusion in your expression mirrored his own, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging between you. "Talk?" you echoed.

Luke nodded, his gaze meeting yours earnestly. "Yes."

"You want to talk...? To me?" 

"I hope it's not that bizzare."

He tried to smile for you, but it felt wrong. Luke couldn't shake the weight of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. He knew all too well that he hadn't been the embodiment of an ideal soulmate. In his mind, there lingered a pervasive belief that you harboured nothing but hatred towards him, something that you made obvious with every interaction between you two.

He wondered if this was the way you felt during the days he avoided you. 

Luke had noticed the shift. There was a calculated recklessness to your actions, a deliberate disregard for your own well-being that bordered on self-destructive. You stubbed your toe on roots and table legs, tugged too hard at your hair, and scraped your knees. You started to pull your punches while sparring with Clarisse, just enough to ensure that he felt the sting of every blow. You never blocked a hit in the face, a twisted satisfaction in the knowledge that your pain mirrored his own. Together, you would limp into the infirmary, bloodied and bruised where you'd be grinning far too wide, barely offering an ounce of guilt when Luke held ice to his face.

You lowered the clipboard from your chest, letting it rest against your side as you faced Luke. The warm rays of the sun filtered through the dense foliage above, casting dappled shadows that danced across your features and forced you to squint against the brightness. The noise of children's laughter and the sound of feet pounding against the earth filled the air.

Your voice cut through the noise, "You've made it pretty clear that you want nothing to do with me, Luke," you began, your words carrying the weight of unspoken hurt. "You can't blame me for being surprised."

As you began to walk toward the next cabin, Luke fell into step beside you, "Can you just give me a chance—" 

"I think you're too late for that."

"I know, I just—" Luke's words faltered, his thoughts tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to articulate his feelings.

"I have nothing to say to you," you declared abruptly, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Luke skidded to a stop just in time, his gaze meeting yours as you regarded him with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "Seriously. I understand, okay? Did I come on too strong? Maybe. Yeah, I'll admit that" you acknowledged, your expression softening slightly. "Maybe coming to you hours after your shit quest was stupid, but I gave you space when you asked—"

"I just wanted to wish you luck on your quest," Luke interrupted, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of remorse.

With a quiet "Oh," you stepped back, your eyes momentarily averting his gaze. Were you embarrassed? Were you disappointed? Did you want to fight? 

"Sorry," you mumbled, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm seeing the Oracle after this. So... not technically a quest yet."

"It's your first one, right?" Luke's voice softened, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"If you're worried about getting another scar, don't worry, I doubt it's anything dangerous," you reassured him, though your words held a hint of hesitation. There was a fleeting moment where your gaze lingered on him as if expecting a sudden change in his demeanour, but Luke remained still, his expression unreadable. "I just need to find Eros and go from there."

"Eros?" Luke's pace slowed, curiosity dancing in his eyes as he raised his brows in interest. Yet beneath the surface, a seed of annoyance sprouted, tendrils of jealousy winding their way through his thoughts. Your quest sounded far more intriguing than his own, and a bitter brew of envy churned in the depths of his stomach. Despite his inner turmoil, he attempted to play it off with a forced chuckle. "Has Cupid gone missing?"

"Apparently," you muttered bitterly under your breath, the resentment palpable in your tone. Luke sensed the edge to your words, though he pretended not to notice.

You sighed, "Is this conversation going anywhere? I really need to finish these cabin checks. I'm busy enough as it is."

Your words held an unspoken plea for him to leave, and though Luke understood, a pang of disappointment nagged at him. He couldn't entirely blame you; after all, he'd been an ass for months.

Both of you hesitated just outside the door to cabin eight, and Luke could feel your eyes on him. When you began to step away, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist. You froze, eyes wide with surprise.

“I also wanted to thank you,” He said, words rushing off his tongue.

“For what?” you asked.

“For last night.” He wasn't sure why he brought it up, why he felt like he needed you to know. "With Penelope."

"It was nothing," you said, voice barely audible. "We gotta look out for each other, right?"

Then, you left, you hurried up the short staircase to the cabin door, barely sparing him a glance before knocking. From his place, Luke could hear someone welcoming you into Artemis's cabin. He watched you until the door was shut behind you, vanishing you from his sight.

As the ceremony approached, the hues of twilight painted Camp Half-Blood in a golden glow, a serene yet foreboding atmosphere enveloping the surroundings. Luke's unease mounted with the setting sun, casting stretched-out shadows that seemed to carry something unnoticed. He couldn't shake the image of the figure from his nightmares, its monstrous visage haunting his thoughts with each passing moment. Yet, amidst the creeping darkness, there was an allure to the unknown, a temptation that beckoned him; its words, its promise of seeing the truth.

His gaze remained fixed on the white marble archway, half-expecting the nightmare to materialize at any moment, its twisted form emerging from the shadows with outstretched fingers. However, it was you who appeared, ascending the steps with graceful determination. Your presence seemed to dispel the shadows, bathing the surroundings in a radiant glow that eclipsed the fears that had once gripped Luke's heart. You were a blinding vice.

"Didn't think I'd see you here."

A sudden jab to his side sent him recoiling, a sharp pain shooting through his ribs. Luke winced, his gaze flickering to you as you flinched, subtly reaching for your own side. Quickly diverting his attention, he focused on the girl who had spoken.

Clarisse arched a brow at Luke, a smirk dancing on her lips. "Jumpy."

"Give him a break," Chris interjected, joining Luke's side and draping an arm over his shoulder. "Luke had a rough night, he lost a kid."

"Is that so?" Clarisse's grin widened. "And Chiron doesn't know? I'm assuming he doesn't otherwise, he wouldn't have picked you for this."

Luke scoffed and crossed his arms, "I'm the best swordsman at camp."

Luke's arms crossed defensively. "I'm the best swordsman at camp."

Clarisse's sarcasm was palpable. "Oh, I don't doubt it. The most humble, too," she retorted, unfazed by his glare. "But let's face it, a search and rescue isn't exaclty your thing anymore. You're more of an action kind of guy. You live off the glory of victory. Chiron knows that."

She was right, Chiron did know that. Which was why he rarely requested Luke to stand in unless there was a catch. Then, the flames in the torches flickered to life, and silence enveloped the candidates. Each demigod chosen by Chiron swiftly took their place, standing tall and resolute by a marble pillar, eager to showcase themselves as the prime choice for the quest. Anything for Kleos. Anything for glory.

Chiron nodded, his gesture sharp and decisive, as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder before addressing the assembly. 

"The Oracle has confirmed that this quest is a search and rescue," he stated, casting a brief, confident glance in your direction. "One where you will use all your best efforts to bring Eros back to the safety of Mount Olympus and restore the lost balance. I'm sure you know where to find him." His gaze then shifted to the rest of the candidates. "Here, I have selected some of our most compelling candidates from which you will choose one to join you on your quest, ensuring your success. Annabeth Chase, Atticus Brang, Chris Rodrigues, Clarisse La-"

As Chiron listed the candidates, you carefully evaluated your options, your eyes calculating. In the dim torchlight, Luke could just discern the thin line etched across your face, stretching from the end of your brow to your-

"I choose Luke."

The ensuing silence felt like something they could all drown in, leaving everyone stunned. Even Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes as she spotted Luke's bewilderment. Surely, he must have misheard. There couldn't possibly be any way you had chosen him, could there?

Chiron turned to you, his tone measured. "Are you sure?"

You never shifted your gaze from Luke, who refused to meet your eyes as he stared fixedly at the pillar across from him. Yet, the clenching of his jaw, whether from anger or annoyance or something else, was enough to elicit a satisfied smile from you.

"I'm sure," you affirmed.

taglist: @pleasingregulus , @weasleylovers , @telliette , @jarofshells , @jess-fae , @s0urw00lf , @srvbryn , @justanotherkpopstanlol , @coryoskywalker , @simplyjake , @girlyp-0-p , @aquangxl , @lovebug0 , @number-onekidqueen , @mxtokko , @patitotodd , @gloryekaterina , @simpforsunwoo , @ladyslytherin7 , @criesinlies , @mashiromochi , @quackitysdrugdealer , @jadahxx , @maraschinocherry3 , @trovailleangel , @daliscrim , @wicca-void , @girljakeperalta , @kurtcobaingirlie , @yourlocaldelusional , @elisa20beth , @lifeonawhim (lmk if you wanna be added <3 pls make sure ur tags on on! <3)

reblog to support your writers!

© sunsburns.tumblr 2024. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

#r is a little shit i must say #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #luke castellan smut #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #percy jackson spoilers #percy jackon and the olympians #loba’s recs!! #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson series #percy jackson tv #pjo smut #pjo fandom #annabeth chase #clarrise la rue #soulmate au #soulmates #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fic #luke’s cabin

[scudslut]

Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other

lazy mornings w/ daryl

daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni

a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)

daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.

he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.

and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.

you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.

it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.

you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.

“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.

“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”

“mhm, you?”

he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.

speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.

his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.

he snorted at that, “i already always do.”

“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.

his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.

“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.

“D… just a few more minutes.”

but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.

“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.

“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”

he watched as you feigned contemplation.

“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.

“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.

daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.

he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.

“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.

he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.

sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #twd drabbles #daryl x reader #fem!reader #daryl smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x female reader #daryl drabbles #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #norman reedus smut #twd smut #twd daryl dixon #twd #twd fanfiction

[mamayan]

oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏

Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol

Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling

tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie

The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.

You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.

Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.

He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.

It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.

“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.

“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.

Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.

The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.

“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.

“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.

You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.

This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.

“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.

Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.

“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.

“D-Dabi please…”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.

“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.

That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.

“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.

His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.

“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.

The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.

“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.

“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.

His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.

The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.

“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.

“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.

Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.

“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.

“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.

“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.

He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.

He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.

“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.

He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.

“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.

It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.

So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.

“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.

Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.

You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.

“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.

He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.

“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.

Until he stopped.

“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…

He stopped again.

“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.

Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.

Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.

If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.

“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.

“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”

He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.

It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.

“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.

His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.

He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.

“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.

“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.

“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.

“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.

“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.

“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.

“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.

“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.

The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.

You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.

“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.

“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.

“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.

You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.

At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.

#request filled #bnha Dabi #Bnha Dabi smut #mha Dabi #mha Dabi smut #Touya Todoroki smut #Dabi smut #Dabi x reader smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n smut #bnha smut #villain smut #yandere smut #yandere Dabi #yandere dabi smut #yandere dabi x reader smut #fem! reader

[kvtie444]

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! gonna try make this a series lol p.s. I love covet sm lolziezzzzzzzz

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nsfw content, that’s it??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

If you're fortunate enough to own a car, count your blessings. Given the means, I would have purchased one long ago, but the weight of tuition fees compels me to endure a daily mile-long walk in the unforgiving cold almost every day. Oddly enough, the journey to campus carries its qualities - passing through a park, surrounded by pleasant scenery, with my favourite playlist playing through my headphones, it becomes an almost comforting routine - except on days like today, where I’m running late.

Choosing sociology ranks among the biggest mistakes in my life, closely followed by my track record with every guy I've been involved with. It seems every guy my age is solely fixated on getting their dick sucked and seeking validation from their male peers.

Entering my building, I head straight to class, mentally preparing myself for boredom. Amongst my whole class, I've only really gotten close with one person in my class - Madi. She's friendly, and her accom building is conveniently across mine, making her my go-to companion here. Reaching my relatively small class, I push the door open, taking my seat beside Madi. Placing my bag on the desk. I unpack my belongings, removing my headphones and setting them on the table. "Look who's finally arrived," Madi teases with a smile. Glancing at her and then towards the front of the room, I notice the absence of the teacher. Did I really beat him here? "Where's Mr. Kennedy?" I ask, confusion etched on my face. Her expression falters. "Didn't you hear?" she begins. I shake my head no. "He got caught having an affair with a student," she whispers. My jaw drops. "So, who's filling in for him?" I ask. She simply shrugs.

Engaging in small talk whilst I log onto my laptop, her attention shifts to the door as our new teacher arrives, a solid 12 minutes late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen as I overhear him grabbing items from his desk. I momentarily look away and I almost moan when I see him. Brown hair, blue eyes, a slight beard, a chain sitting on top of his black sweatshirt, and plain black pants - he doesn't look a day older than 30. Picking up a marker from his desk and delicately fiddling with the lid, he looks up to face the class.

"Mr. Kennedy is unable to continue teaching you guys, so I'll be filling in for him," he announces, turning around to write his name on the board alongside the topic where we left off. "My name is Mr. Sturniolo, or just Matthew if you can't pronounce it," he half-jokes, a small chuckle escaping from his pink lips. Madi leans toward me, whispering in my ear, "smash." I can't help but chuckle, nudging her with my shoulder. When Matt turns around, his eyes dart into mine, shooting me a disciplinary look. I purse my lips, attempting to contain my smile, and look down, mouthing a small "sorry." He returns to his desk, flicks open his textbook, lands on a page, and then speaks up, "Everyone, go to page 56. We're going to start off where you were all left off with class differences in achievement”.

Throughout the lesson, he does an impressive job at teaching. He even sets up a Google Classroom for all his work and provides a platform for questions if we're confused—something Kennedy could never manage. Matt sends me a few glances, and each time, my face grows hot, causing me to look away first and break the eye contact. Eventually, the lesson concludes, and everyone quickly packs up, ready to leave.

"Alright, everyone, I want you all to finish off the chapter, make notes, and I'm going to upload a short essay question for you to fill out too. I want it done for tomorrow's lesson," he says, people beginning to exit the room, with me and Madi following suit. As I walk out the door, I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. He shoots me a smile, which I quickly return before looking and walking out of the room.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I let out a frustrated groan, slouching back in my chair and running my hands down my face. I find myself back in my dorm, attempting to tackle this essay, but I’m stuck on my counterargument. I glance at my open laptop, its glow being the only source of light in my room as I anxiously tap my pen against my desk. Why am I so hesitant to ask my teacher for help? Y/n, don't bother him; it's 11 pm. fuck it.

Summoning a bit of courage, I lean forward and compose a message for him, meant for our eyes only. "Hello Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering how to counterargue in the essay you assigned. Best regards, Y/n." No, no, no. I delete the message and retype, reminding myself that I'm not messaging fucking royalty. The new message reads, "Hi Matt, I'm a bit unsure of how to counterargue in the essay. Thanks, Y/n." I bite my lip before hitting send and then pick up my pen, drumming it against my desk again. I can't help but keep checking if he replies. It's only been two minutes. I mean, it's late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen eagerly until I see my 'delivered' message switch to 'read.' My breath hitches as my left leg shakes, my heel tapping the ground in quick patterns as I see three typing dots.

"Hey Y/n, don't worry about it. Try using the functionalist perspective and theorists like Parsons. I'll send you the page now. Matt." I smile at the message and feel like a cheesy teenage girl, my breath hitching when he sends an image. It's a page from the textbook which he is holding down with his left hand. shit. His large hand looked veiny, and his fingers took up so much space. He had rings on his fingers, excluding his ring and middle finger, making me bite my lip, almost prompting a moan at the idea. No, Y/n, he's your teacher. My eyes moved up his arm to catch a glimpse of the tattoos that were previously hidden under his sweatshirt. I wasn't even focusing on my work anymore. I snap out of my daze and type a little message, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Thank you !!" I send, now biting the end of my pen, smiling to myself. He's quick to start typing back, "Don't worry about it." I stare at the message until my breath hitches once I see him typing again. "Next time, try not to leave my work for the last minute." I softly giggle to myself, looking down at my hands.

I finally get the work done, submitting it online. I climb into bed and scroll through my phone until I fall asleep, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Matt again tomorrow.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back in class again, I find myself barely able to focus on anything - well, it wasn't even work. Matt had put on some documentary, but my attention was solely fixed on him. What's wrong with me? He's just a good-looking guy, Y/n. A really, really good-looking guy.

"Y/n?" I'm snapped out of my trance by Madi. I look up at her; she's standing up, bag on her shoulder. "Lesson's over. Wanna meet and get some food later?"

I nod, "Yeah, text me," I reply, smiling as I get up and put my headphones back on, playing my music. I walk towards the door until I feel a hand on my arm, turning me around. Confused, I look up, and my confusion softens, feeling my face heat up upon seeing it's Matt. I pull my headphones down around my neck as he smiles at me.

"I was calling your name a few times, but your music's too loud," he chuckles. I giggle back at him, feeling flustered. His eyebrows furrow, and a smirk grows on his face. "Is that 'Covet'? Basement?" he continues, referring to the song from my headphones. I look down at my headphones before looking back up at him, smiling, nodding my head, "Yeah,". This man could not get any more perfect. He bites his lip slightly before leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, my brows knitting together in worry. "Hm? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head. "Just have to hold you behind a bit and ask you something," he continues.

Shit.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #SoundCloud

[abbyonmars]

my gf!abby headcannons ♥ wlw

ohasjkdhfajkfd

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . word count — 394! short, ik

gf!abby never lets her guard down. except around you. she wholeheartedly believes she could trust you with her life, and she knows you know it.

gf!abby loves to tease you - it could be anything, whether that be through quietly imitating the way you sound when you're slightly irritated, small snickers to herself when you accidentally knock things down/walk into something. (strangely), she does it purely out of her adoration for you.

gf!abby loves to watch movies with you. she un-ironically does that stupid cliche thing where she pretends to yawn so she has an excuse to wrap her arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to her.

gf!abby loves watching as you count the freckles on her face. she'll sit patiently for hours, watching the way your concentrated eyes would dart around her pretty cheeks, her beautiful nose - she doesn't even realise the dumb smile that's been creeping onto her lips in the meanwhile.

it's as if you put the stars into her eyes. gf!abby adores you, and she's always thinking of you; she's been around you long enough to have every little habit of yours memorised perfectly. she inwardly likes to predict every possible response of yours, and if you're not there with her, she likes to imagine what you would say or do if you were.

(un)fortunately, gf!abby is a freeaaak about your health. if she weren't your girlfriend, she'd be like an additional maternal figure - just constant questions about, "have you eaten?", "have you exercised today?", "what about your vitamins?", "are you cold?". - it just keeps coming. sweet, but never-ending.

speaking of health, gf!abby loves when you watch her exercise. she might not say it, but it's kinda obvious - she loves to show off for you. "hey, y/n! - i bench pressed xyz-lbs today. impressive, right?" — she'll play it off like a joke, but she loves when you praise her. to her, your validation is so important.

you changed her for the better. before you and gf!abby got together, she was never at all about being romantic, and she had never felt the need to even picture herself in a relationship. albeit, you mean everything to her. with each breath, you make her the happiest girl in the world, and she wouldn't dare picture her life without you in it.

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

first post done!! yay!!! i feel like i got a little carried away and i might have to go outside to touch some dirt but unfortunately the uk is like pitch black by 4pm LOL

i also feel like i was a little dramatic but hey. im down bad tbh

also yes im aware the last one is unrealistic. im just pretending like owen doesn't exist and i also want to feel special ok im writing these for me too dont even

should i write more???? if anyone happens to have any reqs for short stories or anything don't be afraid to write me ;)

bye!!!!!

#abby anderson #wlw #sapphic #tlou2 #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #fluff #soft #the last of us part 2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #lesbian #lesbian pride

[froggibus]

The Mark of Greed - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x reader

Genre: angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: mammon can’t help but notice that you refuse to talk about his pact mark, and he’s determined to find out why

CW: hurt/comfort, angst, violence (reader gets attacked by demons), mutual pining, self deprecating thoughts, arguing/yelling, angsty! Mammon, love confessions, misunderstandings

i definitely did not write all of this at 3am. nope. idk i had this image in my head of soft! Mammon tracing your pact mark and telling you he loves you so here it is lol. i got super carried away and ended up making this super long too oops

————

The best kept secret in the Devildom, aside from Satan’s pet cat, was your pact mark. Not just any pact mark—no, it was the shimmering gold one that marked Greed. Right from the day you got it, you knew you should keep it hidden. 

Always wearing clothes to strategically cover it, lying, deflecting and giving different answers every time someone would ask. Mammon watched all this, and said nothing. Sure, it was a little funny, but it also made him wonder. 

Did you hate him? Was the mark of greed as awful as he always thought it was? Was his touch so ugly and toxic that you didn’t want anyone to know about it? 

Maybe his brothers were right. Maybe there was something wrong with him. You were so open about your pacts with his brothers, gladly showing them the swirling coloured patterns that marked your body. You showed them off unashamedly, proudly displaying the marks as part of yourself. 

It made him jealous, really. You were his human. You were his first. His pact was your first—so why did you hate it so much? He always pegged envy as Leviathan’s emotion, but the more he watched, the more he realized his turmoil was enough to rival the otaku himself. 

You first notice Mammon withdrawing after you show a demon in class your pact mark with Beel. An orange sigil just above your belly button that you displayed proudly with crop tops and bathing suits. You could feel Mammon’s eyes on you the whole time, watching you as you explained the beauty behind the mark. 

“It’s not just cause he’s the Avatar of Gluttony,” you explain, fingers tracing the orange outline. “But it also relies on emotions. In this case, the comfort he brings me is like having a full stomach. It sits right at my core because he’s my support.”

You swear you see blue eyes roll to your left, but you shrug it off. He’s probably just upset because Lucifer confiscated Goldie again. Still, you can’t help but think he’s jealous of the way you’re talking about Beel. 

When you walk home later that day, Mammon is short with you. He barely acknowledges you or responds to anything you say, instead he slumps his shoulders and shrugs you off. 

“Mammon, is everything okay? You seem…upset,” you note. 

“The Great Mammon? Upset?” He tsks, “maybe your time in the Devildom has made you dumber, y/n.” 

“I was just checking on you…”

You don’t wait for him to say anything else and instead throw open the front door and stomp to your room in silence. If he wants to be a jerk, you’ll let him be a jerk. 

You practically throw your backpack across the room and slump on your bed. One of your pact marks aches and the thought makes you cringe. Of course it’s that one. 

Ever since you got it, you’ve tried so hard to keep it hidden. Not even telling Mammon himself where it is. I mean, if he knew, what would he even say? You could almost hear his voice in your head telling you that you’re delusional to think you could ever be with him, dismissing your feelings and breaking your heart. 

You get up and sit in front of the mirror, pulling off your shirt so that you can examine your skin. There, sitting above your heart, is the golden mark of Greed. You trace it lightly. It’s always been your favorite, the colour and the design by far the prettiest. You just wish it wasn’t where it was. 

When you first got the mark, when you felt it sear itself into your skin, you knew what it meant. It was a visual representation of the butterflies in your stomach and the clenching in your heart every time you saw the Avatar of Greed. 

Still, you found yourself flipping through the pages of Satan’s personal collection. You honestly hoped it was just random, a weird coincidence or a mistake—but the books said otherwise. They confirmed your fear. 

When the others started to make pacts with you, you worried the same thing would happen. That they would show up in the same place or worse. You can still remember the immense relief you felt when you made your pact with Levi and have the mark show up on your thigh. 

Levi was so excited to ask about his mark and when you let him touch it? He almost exploded. That was the first time Mammon asked you about his mark, and it was the first time you lied to him. 

You groan in frustration and pull your shirt back on, trying to blink away the image of his branding. A part of you always wanted to tell him, to show him and have him touch it. But the other part couldn’t get it out of your head that you’re just a burden to him. You’re his responsibility and that’s the only reason he hangs around you. 

You only wish things could be simpler. 

—

Mammon slams the door to his room and sinks down against it. He tugs on his white hair so hard it hurts, but the pain isn’t enough to wash away the frustration bubbling in his chest. 

Why did he have to be so mean to you?

Maybe if he was nicer you wouldn’t hate him or his pact mark. Maybe if he was nicer to you he might actually have a chance of being with you. 

The sound of his voice rings in his ears, echoing off his skull. He hates it. He hates how mean he was to you, and the guilt eats him up. 

Finally, it becomes too much and he forces himself to his feet. He should apologize to you. Because Lucifer would kill him if he knew how mean he was being…not for any other reason. 

You open the door to see him standing in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up?” 

“I—Lucifer would be mad at me if I didn’t apologize to you,” he says, eyes focused on his shoes. “‘N I don’t wanna be strung up tonight so I’m sorry human.”

“It’s fine. Just—why were you so upset earlier, anyways?”

He shrugs his shoulders, still avoiding eye contact with you. How can he tell you that he’s jealous and angry that you don’t want to show off your pact mark? It’ll make him sound like a little kid. 

“Mammon, come on. It’s just me.”

He sighs, “not that I care but I don’t get why you hate my pact so much.”

You freeze, your blood like ice in your veins. All this time you’d been withdrawing from him, you knew he noticed but because he never said anything, it was easy to ignore. Not anymore. 

“I-I don’t hate it.”

“Then why do you never show anyone?”

“It’s just,” you shrug, “in a weird spot. I don’t know—I don’t hate it. I just don’t want to show it off.”

“Because it’s ugly, right?”

“Mammon—“

“Why would anyone want to be marked by Greed?”

“Mammon—!”

“Imma dirty scumbag anyway. Making a pact with you was the most selfish thing I ever did. Tying you to me for life, why would you ever want that?”

“Mammon, Jesus. Just listen to me!”

The demon stops his self deprecating rant, staring at you expectantly. He doesn’t know what you’re about to say, but all he can hope is for you to tell him that’s it’s not true. That it’s not ugly, that you want to be tied to him. 

Your words fail you. You interrupt his rant and suddenly your mouth goes dry under the gaze of his blue eyes and your words all fall away. Your heart beats a mile a minute, drawing more of your focus to the pact mark that connects the two of you.

You stare at each other for a minute, and then Mammon turns on his heel and storms out of the room.

It takes you a minute to process what just happened, and another minute for you to follow him. By the time you make it to the staircase, he’s already slamming the front door shut behind him. 

Everything is moving so fast. The illusion that you were protecting yourself from Mammon hating you has shattered—replaced by the realization that you’ve been hurting him this whole time. You can’t think of anything except for how to make this right. 

Without thinking about it, you follow him out of the door and into the streets of the Devildom. It’s dark out and you have to squint to see the familiar white hair receding into the distance. You pick up the pace, wanting to catch him before he disappears. 

You’ve never been outside alone before. It’s too dangerous, they always said. But that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now. All you want is to make things with him better. 

“Mammon!” You call, heading up the hill behind him. 

When you get to the top, the demon is no longer in sight. You spin around to see if he doubled back to the house, only to realize it’s no longer in sight either. The horrible realization that you’re lost starts to set in and you find yourself reaching into your pocket for your DDD—only to remember you left it in your backpack. 

There’s a hissing noise nearby and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable you are here. Without thinking, you start to run back the way you think you came. You hear two pairs of footsteps behind you, they’re gaining on you. Whatever is chasing you, it’s going to catch you. 

A clawed hand takes your back and hot pain erupts within you. You fall to your knees and scream, warm blood trickling down your back. 

You try to get back up but you’re shaking so badly that your knees refuse to cooperate. There’s two demons behind you, only vaguely humanoid with glowing eyes and flickering tongues. They’re speaking, but not in any language you understand. 

They circle around you, taking some sort of sick amusement in watching their prey cower. One of them lashes out at your chest, three claws slicing the front of your shirt and causing blood to pool down your chest and stomach. 

You reach up to clutch the wounds, your fingertips brushing against the golden pact mark. I’ll never get to tell him how I feel, you realize. 

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you murmur, tracing your pact mark one last time. 

A jolt of energy rushes through you followed by intense golden light in front of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting until it dims to open them again. When they’re open, you see Mammon in demon form, standing between you and your attackers. 

All it takes is a flick of his hand before they erupt into dust. You knew he was powerful, but seeing him in action only confirmed the fact. 

“Mammon..?”

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands frantic as they search you for injury. His fingertips fall on your open shirt and clawed chest. “You’re hurt…”

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you mumble. 

“I know.” He says, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

He scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to him. You’re sure your blood is dripping all over him and wrecking his new shoes, but you’re too disoriented to care. 

Mammon sets you down on the counter in the bathroom, “move your hand, alright? I gotta make sure you’re not gonna die.” 

Without thinking about it, you move your blood coated hand off of the pact mark. Mammon slowly peels off your shredded shirt, his eyes going wide when he sees what your hand was covering. 

Somewhat hidden by the blood and fabric yet unmistakable, is a golden mark. Not just any golden mark—his golden mark. His pact mark and its above your heart? 

His hands shake as they brush the outline of it. “My—my pact mark is on your heart?”

You bite your lip and nod slowly, looking anywhere but at him. 

Mammon is in complete disbelief. This whole time he thought his feelings were one sided, that you hated him and hated his pact even more. But to find out that it’s on your heart of all places—right as he almost lost you? He’s almost entirely overwhelmed by his feelings. 

His hands shake the whole time he bandages and disinfects you, his mind only set on the branding above your chest. When he’s done fixing you up, he can’t stop staring at it. 

“You got lucky that the Great Mammon was here to protect you today,” he tries to play it off. 

“I-it was only cause I summoned you with the pact.”

The mention of the pact makes his head spin again. His mouth is suddenly dry and his hands sweaty. 

“Mammon,” you mumble, still unable to look at him, “please say something.”

His voice is low. “Do you know what it means when a pact mark forms over your heart?”

You shake your head, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

He reaches out to trace the swirling lines of the mark, his touch featherlight. “It means I’ll always be there for you, y/n.”

His tone is serious, unlike anything you’ve heard from him before. You don’t dare move or interrupt him, wanting to hear what the demon has to say. 

“It means that I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he mumbles. “That I’ll take care of you no matter what. It means that you own me. It means that I—“ he swallows hard, looking at the floor. “I love you, y/n. Now and forever.”

You flinch at his words. They’re all you wanted to hear and yet hearing them has awakened something inside of you. 

Your eyes finally meet his. “You—you really mean it?”

“I love you,” he gently kisses the centre of his mark on your body. “I love you.”

“Mammon,” you say, “I love you.”

Mammon might burst at your words. He reaches up to cup your face, planting a needy kiss on your lips. His touch is desperate, needy, way overdue. You melt into him, his taste so familiar and comforting that you don’t need to think twice about it. 

Mammon smiles against you. If you had asked him a week ago, he would say that his pact with you was the most selfish thing he’s ever done. Looking at you now, though, he sees it as a sigil of his love for you, and what could be more selfless than that?

#obey me x reader #obey me oneshot #obey me x you #obey me fic #mammon #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon fluff #mammon avatar of greed #mammon angst #obey me headcanons #obey me #house of lamentation #obey me devildom

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hii can I request something with jealous Megumi and Gojo it can be spicy or fluffy as much as you wantt. Btw i adoreee your writting <333

I'm so glad you like my writing love, there you go <3 I don't know why I got so carried away by Gojo again, but I hope you still like it - let me know :)

How JJK men act when they're jealous

Pairing: Gojo x reader; Megumi x reader

Word Count: 3,2k (how lol)

Warnings: Gojo part escalated again and isn't that much about jealousy, language, mini mentions of intercourse

Gojo Satoru

„Urgh, this shit is so annoying. At least you’re looking hot next to me, Babe”, Satoru signs while casually placing an arm around your waist.

It really is annoying. The two of you were sent out in order to find a man who might have important information regarding three of Sukuna’s fingers. And there he stands, casually in a white suit while sipping on his glass of wine and talking to random women. But is this really the right way? After all, you smuggled into this extravagant event that seems to involve only the richest of the rich around Tokyo.

“We’ll never get to him by just standing here together”, you breathe out.

No, with all these women surrounding him, there’s absolutely no chance to start a conversation randomly. You pull up your black sleeves and look around. Damn, how pathetic these women are, roaming around as if they’re looking for meat. Some of them even tried to seduce Satoru, even though you’re standing right by his side. Well, you can’t blame them though. He’s looking absolutely delicious in his elegant black suit, probably the most eye-catching man they have ever seen.

“Maybe I need to join the fray too”, you suggest, eyes darted towards a random girl in a scandalous short dress who caresses the man’s chest.

“You? You don’t belong there, (y/n). I don’t want you near that disgusting old fart”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, his grip around your waist tightens.

“Too bad that’s kinda the job today. Listen, you are my boyfriend, but right now I need to seduce that man. You want to stop this madness too, right?”

Satoru signs audible, his jaw so tense that it might snap.

“But you look so good in that black dress babe”, Satoru mutters.

“And I do that just for you, okay? Just please, let me do my job darling.”

“I could rip out his fingers one by one until he tells me the truth, y’know”, he breathes against your ear.

You can’t help but let out a little giggle. It’s always like that. Satoru is so possessive over you that it’s making your life hard sometimes. As if he doesn’t know that he’s walking sex himself, as if your heart wouldn’t belong to only him.

“Come on, we both know you’d never do that. How do I look?”

You push your skin tight black dress up to make your cleavage look even better, fingers caressing the soft fabric so that it falls perfectly. Everything has to appear right. You want to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

“You’re always looking gorgeous”, he murmurs offended, bright blue orbs looking you up and down behind his sunglasses.

“Don’t make such a face, I’ll be back as soon as I have what we want. Maybe roam around in the meantime and look for sweets?”, you suggest kindly.

“You’re the only candy I want, babe.”

His words alone send goosebumps down your spine. God, this man will be your death, you just know it. But for now, you need to straighten your back, stick out your chest and swing your hips on your way to the old man who is the key to Sukuna’s disgusting fingers.

“I’ll be back in a minute”, you hush and get going.

It isn’t hard for you to catch his attention. To be exact, the second he lays his eyes on your delicious curves covered by an elegant black gown all the women around you seem to be gone. His gaze almost eats you up alive. God, how sickening. You want nothing more than a hot bath with Satoru with some Netflix and chill. But this has to wait.

“I have to admit, this is a very nice party”, you purr while showing him your most seductive red-lipped smile.

“Nice to hear coming from a woman that wasn’t even invited”, he remarks, a playful grin creeping up his old face.

“What a woman doesn’t do to put on a dress and act like a princess for an evening.”

You can see the way his eyes darken at the sound of your oh so sweet voice. Wow, if you weren’t a jujutsu-sorcerer you would definitely have become an actress.

Satoru can hear every word you sing-sang at that old fart in front of you, he can sense the way he’s longing to touch your delicate features. God, how much he would love to storm over, slap him away from you and get home. But he shouldn’t. He knows he can’t do that. You insisted on him staying in the background, you want to do this on your own-

“A woman like you doesn’t have to pretend to be a princess. You look like a queen, darling.”

Darling. Did he just call you by your nickname? His skin begins to tingle in hot anger, eyes piercing through the man hazardously. No one is allowed to call you darling expect him. No. one. Who does he think he is? Just because he has a shit ton of money.

“Then I’m a good fit for you. There’s actually something you could do for me, I want something you have”, you continue, your voice intoxicating Gojo’s thoughts.

You never talked like that to a man apart from him. That old fart doesn’t deserve the attention you give him, he doesn’t deserve that you even look his way. You should lay in Satoru’s arms light now, his hands gently stroking your hair while he admires how gorgeous you look.

“If you want something I have, you will have to give me something in exchange I fear.”

You knew this would happen. Looking good and flirting isn’t enough for men like him. In fact, you can tell by a glimpse into his old eyes what he wants. He desires to be alone with you, in a distant room far away from the crowds. The thought alone makes your gut twist in disgust. God, if he touches your body you might throw up. Do you really have to do this? Is this the only way to get a hold of Sukuna’s fingers before the enemy finds them? Fuck, what are you supposed to do?

“What do you have in mind?”, you hum, voice not giving any hint of your thoughts.

He lets out a deep chuckle, hands gliding in your direction.

“I say we’ll discuss this matter more privately, what do you think?” he murmurs.

This mission is very important, everyone at Jujutsu High made that very clear. That’s why they sent you along with Gojo. You’ve never screwed up a mission, always keen to do your very best at stopping the madness of curses. You never fail, you never miss. Even if it means you have to make sacrifices. Even if it means that you have to sell yourself for some stupid information…

 Your gaze wanders to your gorgeous boyfriend, his jaw so tense that it could snap any minute, both hands balled into fists. How much he hates to see you like that, on your way to a place where he can’t follow. But you just have to do this. He needs to understand that. Hopefully he does…

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

He elegantly extends his shriveled hand to you and leads you across the huge hall into a stairwell, away from the crowds and the reassuring eyes of Gojo. You are now on your own with that stranger in a room with a queen-size bed in the middle of his.

“Finally some privacy.”

The man places himself between you and the door, his eyes roaming over you as if you’re his prey. Fuck, you feel like fainting, screaming and crying at the same time. Over and over you tell yourself that this is your job, that you have to make sacrifices just like everyone else, that you don’t need to have a bad conscience. But as soon as your mind wanders to your boyfriend you aren’t so sure about all of that anymore.

“There is no need to rush though, you don’t even know what I want to talk about.”

Your voice is solid and confident, but you can definitely feel your knees going weak. Panic flickers through your mind as he locks the door with a swift motion.

“I don’t need to know what you want. You need to pay first before you receive any information from me”, he remarks, voice cold as eyes.

“And now come here and open my belt for me, will you?

You feel like crying, all of your confidence is washed away in the matter of seconds. You thought you are able to take it all if it means to complete your mission, that it doesn’t bother you to touch another man apart from Satoru in exchange for Sukuna’s fingers. But you can’t. The thought of his hands on your body sends shivers down your spine – not in the good way.

“I’m not here for sexual interaction.”

“Sure, that’s why you shove up your tits and swing your hips like that. Don’t be so prudish, I’ll give you what you want after you gave me what I want.”

You want to get out, as far away from his approaching figure and back into Satoru’s arms. But the only way out is locked. Fuck, what the hell did you get yourself into? Satoru…You will certainly not look at him the same after this. Never in your life you should have allowed that to happen. No mission in the world is worth losing your pride over it, your power over your own body. Screw Sukuna’s fingers, sooner or later Satoru will find them anyway. This was a bad idea right from the start.

“Are you finally coming here or do I have to force you?”

Your face goes pale in an instant, body too shocked to move an inch. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s not playing around. This man doesn’t give a fuck about whenever you want him or not. Fuck, you are an extraordinary jujutsu-sorcerer, your powers surpass him in every aspect. Why the hell is all you can do to stare at him with your doe eyes? Why don’t you fight back as soon as his hands burn against your bare skin? Why aren’t you screaming Satoru’s name?

“Get your dirty hands off my girlfriend.”

The split of a second is enough for Satoru to force himself into the room, bright blue orbs gleaming in thick anger.

“Get the fuck out, young man. Do I have to call security? You can have her when I’m done”, he old fart hisses into his face.

“I’m really trying to be a good person, but you are testing my patience, old man. I’ll say it one last time: Get. Your. Hands. Off. Her.”

Tears of shock, despair and relief begin to cloud your eyes while his grip around your shoulder tightens.

“Fine. I won’t hold back then.”

A little motion of Satoru’s pinky finger is enough to blast the man away from you. His figure slams against the wall, head instantly covered in crimson while Satoru rushes to your side.

“If you ever dare to touch my woman again I’ll kill you. Got it?”

 “Come on, fuck that information. Let’s get you out of here”, he gently mumbles against your ear.

Gently, he wraps his arm around your trembling shoulders and escorts you out of the enormous building into the comforting darkness of the night.

“I can’t believe I let this happen”, he snorts out, face completely twisted in fury.

Fuck the upper ranks and their senseless missions. You are his girlfriend, god damn. How could he let another man touch you, let alone be alone with you? The thought of this old fart and his dirty hands against your soft skin make his blood boil all over again. You belong to him only.

“It’s not your fault, Satoru. I thought I have to so this, that I’m a jujutsu sorcerer and the mission is always the most important. But…I can’t let another man apart from you touch me like that. It’s just not possible. You are the only one I want and need”, you blurt out, hot tears streaming down your face and ruining your perfect makeup.

God, how much he hates to see you like that. All of that for some fucking fingers? This has to be a joke. He is the strongest, if he can’t find them then who else can? Why do you have to feel miserable about something like that?

“And I promise you that I will never let another man touch you like this again. You are my girlfriend, my everything. (y/n) I-“

Desperately, he cups your face with his hands, forehead pressed against his. You close your eyes, take in this bittersweet moment. Satoru, the man you love more than the entire earth saved you again.

“I love you more than anything else. The thought of him being alone with you in this room killed me, I just couldn’t stand it. This will never happen again. You are my darling and mine alone, you hear?”

“I just wanna be yours, Satoru”, you breathe against his lips before he grabs your shoulders and kisses you so passionately that you feel like flying.

God, how much you loved this man. And moments like this make it very clear to you that he loves you too. Satoru Gojo would rather get into trouble with the elders than seeing you in the arms of another man.

“You are, darling. Let’s get home, shall we? Then I’m gonna show you how much I really love you…”

Megumi Fushiguro

He knows it’s absolutely dumb and ridiculous. You’ve been his girlfriend since three years, always by his side, not even the slightest interested in other boys. He just knows that you love him dearly, with all your heart. But why on earth does it hurt so bad to see you talking to this unfamiliar jujutsu-sorcerer? Why does it bother him so much to see him smile down at you and even worse, to witness you laugh at his completely senseless joke?

“Megumi, come here!”, you shout over your shoulder, smile as wide as ever.

He grumbles into himself. Megumi would rather die than to talk to this guy whose eyes are all over you and your gorgeous features. Who is this anyway? He never saw him around Jujutsu High, let alone on missions. So he can’t be that strong right? Surely, he isn’t any better than Megumi himself…Right?

“Don’t be shy! Come on!”

Your hand grips his arms tightly and shoves him into the direction of the stranger. Normally he adores the way you cling onto him – not today though, not in this situation when you force him to confront the guy who’s obviously flirting with you.

“Let me introduce you to my longtime friend Botan! Botan, this is my boyfriend Megumi!”, you introduce him with a proud grin.

Even Megumi escapes a little smile. Good, you called him boyfriend in front of this jerk. Then he should know where his place is.

“Your boyfriend? Are you sure about that?”, the unknown face replies, voice dripping in sarcasm while looking Megumi up and down.

“Come on Botan, stop the crap”, you giggle.

Megumi isn’t amused at all. In fact, he is absolutely furious. One look into this jerks eyes is enough to know that this statement wasn’t a dumb joke. Botan wants you, his girlfriend, his entire world.

“Yeah, stop the crap and get the fuck away before I make you.”

Your heart sinks into your chest, smile dropping immediately. One glance into Megumi’s face and the way the vein on his forehead pulsates is enough to understand that he is fueled with rage. And that almost never happens.

“You against me? I don’t want to beat you up in front of your ‘girlfriend’. Or wait, maybe she needs to see how I beat your ass to understand that I’m the better catch. You don’t deserve (y/n)”, Botan hisses back.

“Botan”, you breathe out outraged.

“Megumi has been my boyfriend for years! I love him dearly! Never in my life would I want to exchange him!”

“Look at him (y/n)! What does he give you, huh? He isn’t strong, he isn’t that handsome and from what I’ve heard he’s stone cold and introverted, you’re nothing like him! I’ve known you for more than ten years, when will you finally understand that I have exactly what you need?”

You are entirely lost at words, it seems like the world around you is collapsing. Of course you’ve been aware of his side-crush this whole time, after all he never made a secret out of it. But to hear it out of his mouth and even worse in front of your beloved boyfriend is terrible. Terrible and wrong.

Megumi shifts his weight besides you, figure now standing dangerously close to Botan’s. Your eyes widen in pure horror, terrified of what might happen next. You know all too well that your boyfriend is very good at making reasoned decisions – never hot-headed, never too hasty, never exaggerated. But the look in his cold blue eyes tells you otherwise. It seems like he’s only seconds away from completely losing it. The usual calm and collected Megumi you know suddenly seems so hot-headed.

“If that’s true, why is (y/n) my girlfriend since three years and I’ve never heard a single word about you? Do yourself a favor and leave us alone, especially (y/n). She is my girlfriend and will always be. A jerk like you won’t change that.”

He casually wraps his arm around your waist while still holding eye contact with Botan, who looks back and forth between the two of you.

“I love him, Botan. And that won’t change. We’ll never be a thing”, you clarify with soft voice.

“And now stop looking at her, we have a mission anyway. See you never.”

With that, Megumi turns on his heels, your frame in his tight grip, and leaves Botan standing in the dust.

“You are mine”, he hisses.

“Only yours.”

“Who does he think he is to take you away from me, huh?”, Megumi blurts out.

“Absolutely ridiculous.”

“(y/n).”

He grips your face and forces you to look at him. God, he looks so perfect, so turbulent, so…hot.

Instead of any other words, he simply presses his lips against yours. Your tongues intertwine with each other, you aren’t even able to catch a breath between the way he longingly gets lost in your mouth.

“I love you”, he mumbles against your lips.

You feel like drowning and flying at the same time, mind completely occupied by the hot-headed Megumi that seems to kiss you to death.

“I love you too, Megumi. More than anything else”, you whisper, hands gripping onto his biceps for dear life.

“More than him”, he speaks out, gaze now locked with yours as if he’s searching for the answer in your glossy orbs.

“A thousand times more than him”, you confirm.

“Good.”

And again, his needy lips crash against yours, remember you with every bite, every kiss and every hushed word that you are his.

Only his.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo #jujustu kaisen #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou saturo #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #fushiguro megumi

[mxmmyprentiss]

I Miss You, I'm Sorry

Summary: Long story short, you survived without her. Her name had become a memory pushed and tucked away in the back of your mind. You locked it and threw away the key. You had stopped yourself from waiting for answers as to why she walked out on you or why she didn’t fight for you ages ago.

Well. Until now. Genre: Angst Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader Warnings: homophobia, parental abuse (?) Word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

A/N: Hi, guys! I just made a new tumblr account and I'm new to Criminal Minds and I'm still actually just about to start season 4 lol but Emily Prentiss already got a chokehold on me and here I am. English is not my first language so any grammar/spelling/other writing mistakes, I apologize. I also have not written anything in a long, long time. Comments and criticisms are welcome.

(also emily's fbi timeline here might be a little confusing so idk lol)

AO3

Relationships don’t always work out. You have known that fact since you were seven years old as a result of your parents’ divorce. You still remember your mother saying, “Baby, sometimes love doesn’t last. Maybe it’s love for now but it won’t be love forever. Two people can grow apart even when they are together all the time. And that’s what happened with me and your dad. And honey, it’s not your fault, you understand?” And you still remember nodding as if you really understood what was happening.

But just like any other child who knew how it felt to be a product of a broken family, you still felt responsible about it. You could have done more, could have done something to prevent your family from falling apart, or at least could have done anything to stitch your family back together. But as you grow older, you learned that what if’s are only as good as heroin and cocaine combined together - it’s not. It’s lethal.

So even though your parents are still alive, you still considered them as the first ones you have lost. Accepting that has helped you cope with other things you have missed throughout your life..

Pen.

Hair ties.

Bus ticket.

Money.

Your first love.

The last one, unlike the others, was not forgotten, misplaced or stolen. The last one walked out of your life before you even had the chance to tell her you would move mountains and set the world on fire if she asked you to. What once were gentle, careful hands that held your heart are the same hands that crushed it into pieces and may have been impossible to glue it back together no matter how much you tried.

It’s fine though. It was a long time ago. You learned to live with it.

At least that’s what you told your therapist when she asked during one of your sessions.

“Come on, sugarplum.” Penelope Garcia, your roommate, tugged your arm. “It’s just drinks at the bar.”

“I’m already beat, Penny. I’ve had a long shift.”

“Exactly the reason why you need to get out and have fun, doctor. We were both so busy with work and never had fun anymore.”

“We have movie marathons sometimes.”

“Please,” Penelope scoffed. “You fall asleep in the first 30 minutes of every movie.”

You sighed. You didn’t defend yourself because it’s true. Lately, everything feels heavy. And you’re always exhausted to the point of passing out at any furniture you lay your head to.

“I’m sorry, Pen.”

Penelope cups your face and forces you to look at her. She has the most gentle, caring eyes when she wants it to be. Curious and determined, most of the time. “Hey, I’m not saying those aren’t fun, okay? I’m just saying maybe we need a change of environment. Get loose. Have a few drinks and maybe meet some people and dance. That’s all.”

“I don’t know these people,” you said defeatedly.

“And you don’t know your patients either but you’re forced to interact with them anyway.” Penelope squeezed your cheeks before letting go. “They’re my friends as much as you are mine, sweet cheeks. I’ll introduce you to them and who knows. You might end up liking them too.”

There’s no winning against your roommate. So you finally agreed and Penelope pranced to her room to change.

Since tonight seemed to be about changes, you decided to put on a skin tight knee-length blue dress that complimented your curves and skin along with a light denim blazer. You matched it with black printed flats and a purse Penelope gifted you last Christmas.

You and Penelope walked hand in hand to the bar. She told you briefly about everyone’s first names but you’re not sure if you will remember them all as you haven’t seen their faces just yet. Also, Penelope talks too fast when she’s excited and your brain just cannot process it as quickly knowing how tired you are.

You both stopped at the door, scanning the place and saw a booth on the far end of the bar. Penelope waved at the people on the table and everyone happily greeted Penelope. You felt a little at ease that they were all wearing casual clothes and looked a little less scary compared to what they actually do for a living.

“Everyone, this is my roommate, Y/N,” Penelope introduced you to the team. And pointing from left to right, she said, “This is Hotch, Derek, Reid and JJ.” They all waved at you. Reid stood up and shook your hand. He insisted you can call him Spencer and babbled something about an article he read the other day that he remembered because you’re wearing a blue dress. You stared at him, fascinated albeit confused. Derek chuckles and pulls Reid next to him.

“Hey, guys, here’s our dri-”

A pause. 

A stare.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two. Or maybe it stopped for God knows how long.

One of the glasses of beer almost fell out of the raven-haired woman’s hands. Luckily, JJ caught it, looking back and forth between the two of you.

“Emily, you are an angel.” Penelope snatched three glasses out of her friend’s hand. “Y/N, this is Emily.”

It took you a second - or ten - before you reached out your hand for a handshake and forced a smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” Your jaw started to hurt at how tight you’re clenching them but you can’t help it.

She’s here.

Emily took your hand and for a brief second, you felt her squeeze it harder than you would normally do for a handshake. “Emily,” was all she said and sat to Penelope’s right.

Everyone grabbed their drinks. The music at the bar grew loud and they talked even louder to understand each other. Derek and Reid debated about something work-related that you didn’t understand but Derek rolling his eyes at Reid whenever he stated facts amused you. Meanwhile, Penelope showed something to JJ and Emily on her phone and you just hope it’s not something embarrassing because you caught the glance JJ shoots at you and she giggled.

“What are you showing them, Pen?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” she grinned. “I’m just showing them how pretty my best friend is.”

You squint, not believing a word she just said. Your hands were quick to snatch the phone from her hand. “Penelope Garcia!” Even with the dim lighting, your blush was evident. It’s a photo of you sleeping in your kitchen, hugging a stainless pot and holding a wooden spatula. You don’t remember that happening. “When was this and why are you keeping this picture?”

Penelope laughed. “You don’t remember so I’m not going to remind you.”

You immediately deleted it off her phone. “Now it’s gone.”

She raised her eyebrows and let out a chuckle, “You forget I work in tech?”

You mumbled a curse and rolled your eyes, accepting defeat.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s cute.” JJ teased and you could only force a smile in embarrassment.

Out of nowhere, Penelope gulped down her entire drink and stood. “Come on, let’s get dancing! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Everyone followed her. Even Hotch who seems to not like the idea but Derek practically pushed him to the dance floor.

Everyone except Emily.

Her.

And you.

You two were left at the booth, sitting across from each other. Emily was gripping her glass. Hard. You believed she might break it if she didn't relax.

You averted your eyes from Emily. It’s ridiculous to not find anything to stare at other than  Emily’s hands.

Emily’s beer. 

Emily’s hair. 

Emily’s clothes.

Emily’s necklace.

Why is this place full of her?

The place was full and crowded and the music was so loud but the silence between you two? That was louder. Deafening. Unsettling. Awkward.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Emily said, finally managing to look you in the eye again.

Your breath hitched once, twice, before answering, “You too.”

And you meant it. But you didn’t want to. 

Oh, but you did.

She chugged her beer and grimaces the second she does. “I … I didn’t know you and Penelope are friends.”

“I didn’t know you and Penelope are co-workers either.” You shrugged. “How long have you been with the FBI?”

“Seven years,” she answered.

Penelope called your name from the dance floor where she was dancing with Morgan. You only gave her a thumbs up to let her know you’re fine and will be staying at the booth.

“You’re staring,” you said and Emily quickly diverted her eyes from you. She decided the floor was a better view instead. You licked your lips to keep yourself from smiling. “It’s okay, you know.”

“What?”

“I said it’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“If you want to pretend like we don’t know each other.” But the agonizing tug in your chest claimed otherwise. “I mean, they’re your friends and Pen is your friend as much as she’s mine. She doesn’t have to know. She just brought me here tonight so we could have fun and meet you guys.”

To your surprise, Emily moved to sit next to you. Not really next to you but just close enough to smell her perfume. 

Velvety. 

Delicious. 

Familiar.

You inhaled deeply, composed yourself, and stole Penelope’s second beer.

“How have you been, Y/N?”

The shiver that ran down your spine shouldn’t be there when Emily said your name. It shouldn’t have affected you that much. Or at all. But it did. And you despised it.

“Since you left me? Great.” You laughed quietly, staring at the glass now half empty. “Really great. I … I’m well … a resident doctor …” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just …”

“You didn’t expect to see me, I get it.”

“Yeah.”

There’s the awkward silence again. If it doesn’t stop sooner, you think you might just bang your head against the table just to shift the mood.

“I tried to find you,” Emily spoke again. Her voice was low, you almost miss what she said. “I came back but you weren’t there anymore. Your mom said you already moved to LA with your dad and -”

“I don’t want to do this here, Emily. Please.” You just can’t. You might cause a scene if you keep this up. You’re still torn between crying hysterically or just downright screaming at her face.

But her face. Her stupid, fucking perfect face.

You looked away. You focused on the people dancing specifically at Penelope grinding against Reid who’s only swaying awkwardly. That’s better.

Emily scooted closer to you but not close enough to invade your personal space still. “Do you hate me?”

You wanted to be rude. Tell her what does it look like, bitch? But that’s just not you. You’re not a confrontational woman. You’re an honest woman. And to be honest, you’re feeling a lot.

Instead, you gulped a drink and stared at it for a while, leaving Emily staring at your hand, waiting for an answer that may never come.

It took a few minutes for you to gather the strength to look her in the eyes. Your eyes may have been teary, you’re not sure, but everything else looks blurry and you feel lightheaded. You’re not even drunk yet. You only had two beers, for fuck’s sake.

You missed those eyes. Emily’s kind, loving, gentle, ‘used to see right through you’ eyes.

“You left me,” was all that came out of your mouth.

Emily moved closer to your seat, dark eyes still locked on yours as if asking for permission. “I was scared. I was young, Y/N.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “And I wasn’t? Your mother literally hired a private investigator to threaten me so I would stay away from you! I was 17, Emily! 17!” You hissed. Emily tried to reach out for your hand but you got up quickly and ran to the dance floor, to your friend. 

You whispered to Penelope’s ear that you needed to leave immediately to cover an emergency shift at the hospital. She knew better than to argue with you and your work so she let you go and told you not to worry about the tab. She offered to call you an uber but you insisted on walking since the hospital is only a few blocks away.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Emily, not now!” Your strides were getting bigger and you wished you could just fly home instead and get there faster. She grabbed your arm, pulling you to the side. And although it’s already dark outside, Emily can’t miss the way your eyes glisten with tears, staining your cheeks. “Please, Emily, just please.” You didn’t know what you’re actually asking - begging - her. You weakly placed a hand to her stomach and pushed to keep a little distance between the both of you. 

Emily took your shivering hand and held it to her chest instead. Her hands were as soft as you remembered them to be. And you hated the fact that you still remember that after so many years. “Please, Y/N, let me just talk to you.”

“What’s there to talk about? We made it this far in life without each other.” You said bitterly.

“But we didn’t want to.” She sighed. “At least, not for me.”

You took a deep breath in. Emily wiped the tears with her thumbs. Then she cupped your face and you couldn’t help but to just feel her for a minute, face settling on her warm hands. You look at her, eyes pleading. “Em, please.” 

Emily shuddered at the nickname. You were - are - the only one who could make it sound so soft and loved; make it sound like home. After all this time.

“Emily?” You both looked at the sound of Penelope’s voice. You quickly retracted your hand from Emily’s. “Y/N? You’re still here?”

“I, uh, Emily here just brought me my purse because I forgot.” You lied. Emily swallowed whatever she was about to say. You turned to Emily. “Thanks. I have to go now.”

“Oh, okay.” 

You hailed a cab and got out as fast as you can, leaving Emily dumbfounded and Penelope confused as she was intrigued.

___

Emily rubbed her hands together and exhaled loudly. Penelope raised her eyebrow. “What did you do?” She asked.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“For an FBI agent, you’re a bad liar right now, honey.” She squinted and took a closer look at Emily’s eyes. Teary. “Were you two making out?”

Emily scoffed. “You’re drunk, Garcia.”

“And you’re hiding something, Prentiss.”

“I’m not!” Penelope continued to stare at her suspiciously, pressing the truth out of her. “Okay, I think you should talk to her first. I can’t be the one to tell you if she doesn’t want to.”

“Did you know Y/N before I brought her here? I saw that you two were surprised to see each other a while ago. There was something there. It doesn’t take a profiler to see it.”

Emily paced back and forth, biting her lip, arms crossed. She stopped herself from biting her nails, a habit she may have done when she’s anxious. Emily contemplated whether to tell Penelope everything or something or anything. “God, I think I need something stronger than the drinks in the bar.”

“I’m waiting here, pudding.”

“And I’m thinking here.” She kept her pace. Then stopped. Emily takes a deep breath. “Y/N is … well, she was … is … I think …” she rambled, hands in her pockets. Emily looked up to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from falling. “Garcia, she’s the love of my life.” She stated weakly.

Penelope gaped at Emily like a deer caught in headlights.

___

Penelope arrived home at around 2:30 in the morning. You heard the lock click and footsteps approaching your door. You quickly pulled the covers above your head and pretended to sleep soundly.

“Y/N?” It’s your roommate. She caressed your foot. “I just want to say I’m sorry for bringing you out there tonight. I … I didn’t know you and … her …” Penelope sighed sadly. “We can talk about it when you’re ready or whenever you want or not at all. It’s up to you really. I just want to say I’m sorry.” She gave a light pat to your leg. “Good night, sweetie.”

___

The next morning, you found Penelope sitting in the kitchen having coffee and talking to someone on her laptop. You didn’t interrupt her, suspecting she might be working from home.

You prepared coffee for yourself and sat on the opposite end of the table. You pretended to scroll on your phone … waiting …

“Morning, baby girl,” Penelope finally decided to break the silence.

“Morning, Pen.”

“So …” There it was. You have known her for a long time to know that nothing - not even the strongest of hangover -  is stronger than her inquisitiveness. “Want to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m not forcing you, Y/N. I’m just asking if you’re ready because if you’re not, it’s fi -”

“And let you die of curiosity?” You hid your smirk behind your mug. Penelope smiled widely. “Did she tell you about me?”

“Emily?” You roll your eyes as if to say who else? “We haven’t had the chance to talk about our personal lives before but last night, she told me two things actually.”

“Oh?”

“One, that it might be better if I get the dirt from you. And two …” Penelope pauses, grinning. Is she actually pausing for dramatic effect?

“Spit it out, Penny.”

“I’m not sure if you want to know.”

“Just say it.”

“That you were -” Your friend shook her head. “ ARE. You are the love of her life.”

Oh.

There it was again. That tug in your chest. Are you dying? Maybe. You needed to get this checked out one of these days at the hospital, you thought. You might need an ECG or probably a 2D echo.

“Is it true?” Penelope pushed. “How did you two know each other?”

You walked to the living room with your coffee and sat on the couch. Penelope follows you.

“That love of her life part, I’m not sure.” You took a sip of your coffee. Black and bitter. “We met in high school. She was my girlfriend.”

Penelope scooted closer. “What happened?”

“Well, long story short -”

“No, I want the long complete detailed version, love bug.” You rolled your eyes at her and she smacked your arm. “You’ve been holding out on me!”

“Hey! I didn’t know my ex is working with you, okay?”

“Still! Everything really does happen for a reason.” She smiled to herself.

You raised an eyebrow. “And what’s the reason for this then?”

“We’ll see,” Penelope smirked. “Now, go on with the story, girlfriend.”

“We met in high school. She was a transferee. I was, well, an introvert with no friends. She was the new girl. I’m sure you know where I’m going with this.” You see Penelope with a shit-eating grin, nodding her head. “It took a week before I could say a word to her.”

“Because you’re so gay and she’s a pretty girl?” Penelope grinned.

You glared at her. “Because I was an introvert.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, she missed a class and asked if she wanted my notes and she said yes. We have been friends from then on.”

“Until…?”

“She was the first one to say ‘I love you’, you know?” Tears started pooling in your eyes. You immediately wiped it off with the end of your sweater before it even stained your cheeks. “We were in the locker room. Just the two of us after gym class. It was out of nowhere. We just finished showering -”

“Together?” Penelope gasped scandalously. You swatted her arm and she laughed. “I’m kidding.”

“Anyway, we just finished showering and she said she loved me. You have to understand that it was a time when you know … it’s not accepted nor tolerated to be … us.” Penelope took your hand and squeezed it. She could only sympathize, knowing how cruel and tough the world must be to not let people love who they love. “We hid it for a year, maybe two. I’m really not sure now, I think, but it was the longest time of my life. We were okay, great even. We had the most fun, enjoying each other’s company, sneaking around, going on dates. My mom met her. She liked her. Always asked about her when I get home.” You smile at the memory now but it quickly fades. “Until her mother found out about us.”

“Ambassador Prentiss? Oh, that evil -”

“Her mother sent a P.I. to threaten me so I would stay away from her daughter. I was 17 years old and scared, what else can I do?”

“Oh, honey,” Your friend pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry the world has not been kind to you, sunshine.”

“Thanks, Penny.”

“You two broke up after that?”

You shook your head. “I was about to ask Emily what we should do. I was ready to run away, to hide, to go anywhere with her. I messaged her to meet me at the gym locker room after class the next day but she never showed up at the school at all.” Penelope noticed your trembling hands and gently caressed them. “I found out from the faculty that she moved overseas.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me. I know it’s hard for you, honey bun.”

“I just didn’t expect to see her last night … or ever. I stopped myself from looking for her again. Turns out, life has funny comebacks.” You chuckled bitterly. Penelope enveloped you in a tight hug until her phone rings. You giggle, “Work is calling you, badass computer nerd.”

___

When Penelope reached the BAU, Emily was the first one to spot her. She ran towards her, following Penelope to her office.

“Fabulous morning, person who hurt my roommate.” Penelope greeted without looking at Emily to which she replied with an eye roll. “Y/N told me everything.”

“Y/N told you everything about what?” Suddenly the two women stopped on their tracks and turned around. It’s JJ with take-out coffees in one hand and files on the other. “Come on, ladies. Share it with the team.”

“No!” They simultaneously yelled.

“Okay, chill.” JJ handed them each their coffees. “Share it with me. I’ll find out about it anyway.”

Penelope dragged the two women into her lair. Once locked inside, Penelope announced, “Y/N is your ex!”

“Garcia!” Emily hushed her.

JJ’s eyes were wide and almost spitted out her coffee. “I knew there was something!”

“What?” Emily looked genuinely confused.

“Emily, we’re profilers. We see everything.” JJ reminded her. “You were so awkward with her last night. I assume you guys haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“15 years.”

“And it’s still that awkward?” JJ scoffed unbelievably. “Must have been a bad break up.”

“Technically, they didn’t break up but Agent Prentiss here left my friend without saying goodbye.” Penelope squinted her eyes at Emily, arms folded and eyebrows raised.

Emily’s face was almost as red as her blouse now. “I didn’t … I didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s com-”

A knock interrupted the ladies’ gossip session. “Ladies, Hotch wants us in the briefing room ASAP.” Morgan told them.

“Be right there!” JJ replied. “We’ll continue this later. Over drinks. Just the three of us. Ladies’ night.”

Emily saw no way out of this so she just nodded.

___

It was a terribly bad day at work. The ER was filled with too many people. Patients kept on coming without showing signs of slowing down. Every bed was occupied - some were already in the hallway in wheelchairs - and everyone had something to do. You have not had breakfast or lunch yet. Your cup of coffee left cold at the doctor’s quarters which you’re sure someone threw out already.

Sometimes you wonder why you chose this career instead of just pursuing your love for multimedia arts.

“Doc,” a senior nurse called you. “I have your patient’s labs and ECG right here.” She hands you the chart. “X-ray results are to follow. Let me know if you’ll be requesting more. Bed 5.”

“Okay.” You walked towards the bed, reviewing your patient's chart. Name … age …

Name?

Now the world was playing a prank on you.

“Emily Prentiss?” You call your patient’s name as soon as you draw the curtains. Emily looked up to you, lying on the bed, beaming too much for someone who’s injured. There’s a small stain of blood on her tank top. You felt something stuck in your throat as worry fills your thoughts yet you retain your poker face.

“Y/N?”

“Dr. Y/F/N, resident. I’m,” you cleared your throat. You put down the chart on the bedside table. “I’m here to examine you. Can you tell me what happened?”

Emily adjusted herself on the bed with a grimace. “I got shot. Almost. I was wearing a vest but I think it left a graze.” Emily lifted her top to show you. You don your gloves and inspect the wound closely, pressing softly at the area. You suspect she might have taken more than one close hit from the way the graze looked. Your eyes panned to her eyes staring at your hands.

“Did you get hit elsewhere, Agent?”

“No,” Emily shook her head. But your eyes found fresh bruises on both of her arms. “It’s fine, doesn’t hurt.”

“You’re always a tough cookie, agent?”

“I have to be.”

“Of course.” You assessed the rest of her body, especially her head for any bumps or cuts. Apart from the bullet graze on her chest and the bruises on her arms, you didn’t find anything else worthy of concern or emergency so far. “Do you feel anything else? Any pain?”

Emily had many answers to that but she bit her tongue. It’s not the time and place. She shook her head instead.

“Okay, I’ll get someone to clean and dress your wound. I’ll order an intravenous painkiller. It will take care of the first six hours, at least, but I’ll also prescribe you some oral painkillers and have your home care instructions ready. Do you have someone I can talk to?”

“I, uh, I think JJ is around somewhere. Or Reid.”

“Any relatives?”

“They’re all I have.” There was a small pause. “We take care of each other.”

“Yeah, of course. Part of the job.” You wrote your initial reports on her chart before leaving. “So, uh … I’ll call the nurse.” You turned around but Emily grabbed the end of your coat. “Anything else, Agent Prentiss?”

“Can you, if it’s not too much to ask, can you do the IV thing? I just …”

“You hate needles.” I know.

She nodded. “Please?”

Fuck. How can you say no when she’s looking at you with those eyes? Dark, pleading and consuming.

You can lie and tell her you have other patients to attend to but so far, no nurse had called you yet. You hear another resident had come in, too.

Emily’s eyes and hand were still on you.

“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll be right back.”

Just your dumb, stupid luck.

___

Your shift ended at around 10pm but it’s almost midnight when you got out of the hospital. You already changed your top into a purple t-shirt. You carried your bags, coat hanging on your arm, as you walked to your car. You couldn’t wait to go home and wash off the busy day you had.

You stopped by to take out Chinese food for you and Penelope and a little extra to reheat tomorrow for breakfast.

You heard the TV as you approached the door. Penelope must still be awake and watching a show. You opened the door with your keys and to your surprise, one of your patients today was sitting on your couch. Your eyes met briefly.

“Hey, sweetie pie!” Penelope cornered you and grabbed hold of the take-outs. “Let me talk to you for a minute.” Penelope excused herself and you, dragging you to the kitchen. “I’m sorry Emily’s here but somebody’s got to take care of her and she lives alone. I figured since you’re here and you’re a doctor, this will be the safest choice. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“No.” Your roommate grinned widely.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Then it’s fine. I’m going to my room. I had a long day.”

“But aren’t you going to eat? You can watch TV with us.”

“I lost my appetite.” You mumbled. You walked to your room and Emily caught you on the way. She stopped in front of you. “What?”

“I’m sorry for staying. The team insisted and -”

“It’s fine, Agent Prentiss.”

Emily frowned. “You don’t have to be so formal.”

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay, sorry,” She stepped to the side and you walked past her. “Y/N?” You looked back at her. “Thank you for today.”

You flashed her a small smile.

___

You woke up the next morning to a loud scream. You quickly got up and ran to the living room. Your hair still disheveled and pajama pants hanging a little low.

“Is there a fire?” You asked, confused and half awake.

“Sorry for waking you, sunshine. But I cannot do this.” Penelope handed you a gauze, medical tape and scissors. “Help us, oh sweet lord of ER.”

You yawned then sat next to Emily. You disinfected your hands with alcohol and proceeded to clean her wound with povidone-iodine. She winces a little. “Hurts?”

“A little.”

“Well, it’s supposed to.”

“Wow, aren’t you grumpy in the morning.” Emily teased, earning a glare from you and a slightly painful poke. “Ow! Hey, be gentle please. I’m already hurt.” She pouted.

“You have a dangerous job. Couldn’t you be more careful?” You retorted, annoyed.

“Well, I’m sorry the UnSub has a gun and tried to kill me.”

You ignored her mumbling. “Do you have the day off?”

“Hotch gave me the week off.” Emily answered, clearly disappointed. “I can’t believe my doctor suggested a week's rest. It’s not even that bad, right?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks. “And you know better than your doctor?”

Emily smiled. “I guess not.”

You finished cleaning up her wound and changing the dressing. You picked up an ice pack from the fridge and handed it to her. “Ice your bruises. No more than 15 minutes at a time.”

“Yes, doc.”

“Don’t call me doc.”

“You’re a doctor.”

“We’re not in the hospital.”

Emily leaned forward, a little too close to your face. “What should I call you then?”

Up close, you noticed her lower lip has a small cut while her upper lip … well, there’s nothing wrong with it.

You tried not to focus too much on her lips. Tried is the keyword. 

Then, you suddenly felt like your ghost floated above you and gave the back of your head a cold hard slap. Your eyes quickly darted up to her own brown orbs, intently staring back at you. 

“I’d rather you not call me anything at all.” You said firmly and got up. Emily watched you march back to your room.  A small smirk formed on Emily’s face.

You lied on your bed. Heart pounding, head somewhat dizzy, cheeks flushed.

Fuck Emily Prentiss and her stupid, stupid, tempting lips.

___

The three of you ended up watching your second classic film one afternoon with Penelope sitting between you and Emily. You didn’t like the movie that much honestly. You walked to the kitchen to make yourself your favorite drink - soda with vanilla ice cream.

“You still like that huh?” Emily sneaked up behind you. “It’s diabetes in a glass.”

“Guilty.” You took a sip. “It’s my comfort drink.”

“It sure is.”

“What do you need? Ice?”

“You, actually.”

“Why? Something hurts?”

“Nothing you can heal.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious.”

“So am I, Y/N.” Emily stepped closer to you. “I was wondering if we can finally have a talk.”

“We’re watching a movie.”

“Penelope’s just fine.” You both glanced at Penelope who turned her head back to the TV at breakneck speed.

“She put you up to this huh?” You took a seat and you gestured to Emily to do the same. There’s no use avoiding ‘the talk’ anyway as it looks like Emily might live here for the whole week whether you liked it or not. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Us.”

“Us?”

Emily ran her hands through her hair, not knowing where to start. “I didn’t want to leave.”

Fifteen years.

It’s been fifteen years since you last saw Emily. Both of you were still kids - young, innocent, carefree, hopeful. The day Emily left your life, you were a wreck. You did good at school, acing exams after exams, and eventually got to medical school on partial scholarship. Outside, you tried to be the perfect little golden daughter your parents and teachers expected you to be. Inside? You were empty. You felt as if you’re a shallow case of a person.

The first five years since Emily left, you graduated from high school. You got multiple part time jobs before applying to universities. In between those busy times, you tried to find her - called her up on her phone every single day for three years, wrote letters to her last known address every month for two years. Once, you even tried to sneak into their house but the security guard spotted you and almost caught you. You almost had a bald spot from the security grabbing your hair.

By the sixth year since Emily had gone, you stopped. You realized it’s not healthy anymore. You were holding on to a ghost. So you learned to live the next years of your life without her. After finishing your degree in biochemistry, you moved to LA with your father. You got yourself into UCLA and pursued medicine.

The med school journey wasn’t a smooth ride at all. Yes, you didn’t fail one subject during med school but the harder part came later - the actual practice. You struggled with a lot of things but mostly socializing with different people - strangers - whose life depended on you and your capabilities.

It was only five years ago that you finally started to feel somewhat confident with yourself. Not perfect but you weren’t getting yelled at as much by the attendings anymore. A senior resident even complimented your improvement which meant a lot to you.

Long story short, you survived without her.

Her name had become a memory pushed and tucked away in the back of your mind. You locked it and threw away the key. You had stopped yourself from waiting for answers as to why she walked out on you or why she didn’t fight for you ages ago.

Well.

Until now.

“Y/N,” Emily placed her hand on top of yours and you were quick to retract it. It was a reflex at this point. “Sorry.” She kept her hands under the table. “I know apologizing won’t erase anything that happened to us but I’m really sorry, love.”

“Don’t call me that.” You clenched your jaw. “Just tell me why.”

“She, my mother … she took me to the Middle East when she found out about us. I should have known, I should have seen, that we were being followed by her men every time we went out. She tossed the photos - our photos - to my face. She called me disgusting and immoral and a fucking disappointment all because I loved you.” The last part came out as a mumble but you caught it.

Your eyebrows relaxed, eyes softened. The waterworks in your eyes were threatening to fall again. Damn it.

How would a 17-year-old expect this from her own mother? How was she supposed to know?

“She had all your information and your family’s and I was so afraid that she would come for you.” Emily continued, now looking down at her hands, trembling in fear and probably embarrassment of being vulnerable and open. “I knew she would come for you. She told me so. I will set that girl straight if that’s what it takes, that’s what she said. And you have no idea how that sentence scarred me until now.” Emily takes a deep shuddering breath. “The thought of you being hurt because of me … us … I couldn’t bear that, Y/N. I had to protect you so I made her swear to leave you alone and in exchange I will follow whatever she wanted me to do, whatever she wanted me to be.” Emily glanced back up to you, eyes defenseless and face flushed. “I just want you alive and safe.”

“Emily …”

“You don’t have to forgive me now or ever if you don’t want to. Or if you can’t. That’s okay. I can live with that … I think.” Your ex-girlfriend sat up straight, faked a smile. “But I want you to know that when I got to the Bureau, I did look for you.”

Your eyes met. And from what Penelope was seeing from the living room, everything was evident: the longing, the pain, the memories.

“I found out you got into med school in LA. I was so happy for you, you know that. I knew you would make it. I remember you wanted to be a surgeon at first but then you said you liked kids so maybe pedia -”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I couldn’t … I wanted to, Y/N. I have wanted so badly for years. But when I remember about what I put you through, what my mother put you -”

“Us,” you corrected. “What your mother put us through.”

Emily nodded. “I just couldn’t ruin your life like that again.”

“Do you still talk to her? Your mother.”

“Not anymore. We haven’t been in contact since the last case she brought to the FBI.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Can’t miss someone you don’t know.”

You gave her a sad smile. “You’re strong, Emily.”

“Sometimes I think it’s a curse.”

“It will take some time,” you mumbled. Emily stared at you, waiting for what you meant. “Forgiving you, I mean.”

“I know. You don’t have to.”

“But I understand, Emily. I understand now.”

You shared a friendly smile. You leaned forward to wipe the tear from Emily’s cheek.

Emily held your wrist, feeling your hand on her cheek. You two stayed like that for a few seconds. You were the first one to let go but before going, you left a tender kiss on her forehead to which Emily closed her eyes, feeling your lips against her skin for the first time in a long time.

The moment was almost ruined when you and Emily heard a shriek from the living room and saw Penelope stuffing her mouth with ice cream. Clearly, she saw everything.

You and Emily chuckled.

“Em,” you softly whispered. “I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Sorry the world wasn’t kind. To you. To us.”

Emily frowned. “It’s not your fault.”

None of this was your fault or Emily’s as it turns out. Now that everything was out in the open, a blossoming hope grew in your heart as you looked at Emily. All the sadness, anger and pain you felt the first time you laid eyes on her at the bar, you felt that diffusing quickly.

Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. 

To just kiss her. Just once. Again.

Or hug her.

You don’t know. All you know is that you missed her. And although she looked much older than you remembered her to be - so are you - you still remembered looking at her eyes all those years ago. At the locker room. During classes. At the carnival. At the mall. In your childhood room. The street two blocks away from her house.

Emily stood up, eye level with yours, as if she read your mind. She leaned forward. Your lips now close to hers that you can feel her take a breath. She waited for you to pull away or to ran to your room but you didn’t. The next thing you know was Emily closing the gap between both of your lips.

The kiss was soft. Like the first time when you were two young girls at the locker room the first time she told you that she loves you. Yet, it was also intoxicating, exciting. You felt a jolt of electricity running through your whole body.

The kiss was also quick. It was done before you know it.

Emily flashed a smile. “I’d like to do that again.”

“Me too,” You mentally kicked yourself at how quick you responded to that.

“Let me take you out on a date sometime.”

How can you say no to her?

The answer is you don’t.

“I’d like that, Em.”

“Friday? 10pm? I’ll pick you up?”

“It’s like you know my work schedule.”

“Lucky guess,” Emily smirked. “Let’s go before Penelope dies of excitement. She’s literally red and might combust.”

“Don’t worry, I’m here if she codes.” You share a laugh.

You couldn’t wait for Friday to come.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss angst #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss #paget brewster x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #jaye writes #emily prentiss x female reader

[twstjam]

Lost Invitation (Part 2) - Respond, if you please

Sorry, I said half an hour, but blocking people took a bit longer than expected <3 Starting from now I'll be blocking everyone who likes Lost Invitation without reblogging it. If you reblog it onto a sideblog and I've blocked your main, do tell me or you might miss out on updates!!

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Meleanor Draconia, Levan Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver (brief), Sebek Zigvolt (mentioned), Yuu (mentioned) Word count: 4.6k (sorry, I got carried away writing the draconia fam lol) Summary: You're committed to helping Riddle Rosehearts and his card soldiers in a war against followers of the Jabberwock looking to usurp the rulers of Red and White. You're also in love with a stranger you met in the woods who wants you to run away with him. Whoever said that love and war weren't so different might've been onto something. In your experience, they're both equally difficult. Nobody ever said that you had to choose between one or the other though. Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Prince Malleus Draconia is not lonely.

He hasn't been since before he hatched, his mother had made sure of it. He has faded memories of dozing off to his mother's soft singing, listening to his father's long ramblings, and curling up in the safety of the right-hand general's presence.

After hatching, his mother had doted on him like any prince of the Briar Lands deserved to be. Her and Father had indulged his every whim and desire. The servants bowed and trembled before the wrath of a newly-born dragonling who, though only three feet long, snarled his grievances accompanied by licks of fire and brewing snowstorms. Lilia Vanrouge was the only one to not kneel so easily.

Malleus Draconia was a prince and a hatchling, but Lilia did not treat him as such. Lilia scolded him like he would Mother, a matured dragon, and only complimented or rewarded him when he earned it. Needless to say, he was not favored amongst the little prince's guardians… or so Lilia says as he laments on the times Malleus used to set his hair ablaze. It had enlightened Malleus as to why the general currently wears his hair so short as opposed to the portraits he'd seen, but the prince—as it is the nature of fleeting old memories—cannot vividly recall his caretaker's tales. They also struck him as incredibly odd and he concluded that as an infant he had been a foolish thing (despite his parents' insistence otherwise). After all, Lilia is his most favored caretaker. This favoritism had even led to Malleus seeking Lilia out when he had hidden himself away one day, giving the prince the honor of being the first to meet the general's adopted son.

Silver had been an enigma to him. How could a meek little human infant, a species which his mother mocked frequently for their weakness and stupidity, appeal to a hardened fae general? It was even stranger to him that Mother seemed to completely forget her disdain for humans when she saw the little bundle in Lilia's arms. Though he would never say it aloud, Malleus had felt betrayed when his mother had asked to hold the child and took him from Lilia eagerly.

This little… thing, could not even hold itself up or eat solid food, let alone seek it out itself. It was useless and weak and nothing like the fierce creature Malleus had been when he broke out of his shell. Or at least, that's what Malleus used to think.

Truly, Malleus must not have been as exceptional of an infant as his parents insist. Malleus had spent 20 years crawling, meanwhile Silver mastered walking on two legs in mere months. Instead of cawing and snarling, the child babbled and laughed, elicited smiles from those around him, made warmth swell in Malleus's chest when he called the prince's name for the first time. The boy had still been small, not even 5 years old, and yet he had been able to climb up Malleus's legs and sit on his lap when he had invited him to read with him.

Sebek exhibited similar speed in growth. Malleus had blinked, and suddenly the little halfling had risen from a screeching newt into a strong guard that rivaled his own grandfather. Sebek likes to shadow him, always quick to see to his every need and always eager to win his approval. It's overbearing at some points, but the boy is growing and learning and has come to put his loyalty to use for only matters worthy of it, learning from Lilia and Silver to not merely agree to Malleus's every breath.

The revelation for such a change brought all four of them closer. It's not rare to see the two young knights by the prince's side, the former general watching after them from not far off.

Suffice to say, Malleus Draconia is not lonely. Absolutely not.

As a matter of fact, he quite likes being alone; the peacefulness of isolation, the escape from his demanding responsibilities. He has to return to the castle at some point of course. He has duties to his kingdom, but no matter how brief, he takes the opportunity to have some time for himself. To have some time to indulge his desires instead of being Prince Malleus; to be away from the expectations of his subjects and parents and instead cater to only himself.

He never quite expected to meet someone searching for something similar. At the very least, not at the same place, and you continued to surprise him in ways he could have never imagined.

After all, who could have predicted that a revered dragon prince of the fae would fall in love with a human?

----

Perhaps to any other, days at Wild Rose Castle could be considered dull, either because of the dim lighting and black walls or the castle staff that always hurry by without a whisper of a breath and with bowed heads.

If one were to ask Malleus however, he would say that days at the castle are always hectic. It's a good day when the castle is serenely dark and gloomy, but on others…

"Your DISGRACE of an offspring is a pathetic sprite unworthy of my son! How DARE you even consider a courtship between them?!"

Lightning fills the throne room with a bright purple light. Three aristocrats yelp and scramble to avoid the strikes of lightning coming down from the ceiling. Princess Meleanor's glare is deadly as she lifts and aims her staff to bring down another volley of lightning.

"P-p-please forgive us for our transgressions, your excellency!" the patriarch weeps as his family collapses to the floor in frantic bows. From his throne, Malleus can see the family's young heir trembling with choked sobs. His mother isn't the least bit appeased, her glare hardening and her staff crackling with power.

"ENOUGH! I will not tolerate any more nonsense out your blabbering mouth! You have come into my home, insulted my son, and dirtied my floor!" Meleanor raises her staff with a furious snarl. The magic surrounding it strikes the ceiling and deflects into multiple bolts of lightning throughout the throne room. "GET OUT OF MY SIGHT AND DO NOT DARKEN MY DOORSTEP EVER AGAIN!"

The nobles scramble back onto their feet and skitter out with fearful screams. The wails of Malleus's attempted suitor echo through the halls of the castle until the doors slam shut behind them.

Meleanor raises her head proudly, huffing a satisfied plume of smoke out of her nostrils. Beside the sighing Lord Levan, Lilia Vanrouge has his head in his hands.

"What nerve, to ask permission for our Malleus's hand whilst showing such disrespectful behavior!" Meleanor spins around with a flare of her cloak and seats herself on her throne, one leg crossed over the other. "I should have incinerated that child where they stood!"

"I'm quite certain your outburst had spoken the message quite clearly, my lady," Lilia says with no small amount of disapproval.

"I agree with Lilia." Malleus's mother whirls around to face him with a betrayed expression on her face. "It is no fault of theirs that I failed to give my full attention to them. They had every right to call out my rude behavior."

Meleanor scowls and tosses her head again. "If you exhibit overly courteous behavior then those stuck-up aristocrats will become too comfortable to speak ill of you. As a dragon, you must present yourself as one!"

"That courteousness is the only reason the staff does not perish within breathing distance of him," Lilia argues. Meleanor shoots him a glare but he isn't deterred. "The poor boy already has issue forming relationships. Your volcanic temper is not doing him any favors."

"I will deal with those interested in the future king of the Briar Lands and my son however I wish! In case you have forgotten, I am your princess and his mother!"

"He is 178, he is not a hatchling, Meleanor!"

"Regardless of his age I have no intention of allowing him to be mistreated or his heart to be broken."

"At the expense of others?!"

"Yes!"

"Ah, there he goes."

Meleanor straightens up from how she had been bent over to glare at the short general and they both look over at Levan. They follow his gaze and briefly see Malleus's tail slipping out of the throne room.

"Darling!" Meleanor gathers her skirt to dash after her son. As Malleus makes his escape, Lilia groans and slumps over the arm of Levan's throne. His friend pats his back in sympathy.

"You really must do something about that wife of yours," Lilia grumbles. Levan laughs nervously, but there's also fondness in his eyes.

"She is simply doing what she thinks is best for our son."

"It isn't and you know it is!" Lilia huffs, craning his neck to glare up at the lord. The corvid fae smiles sweetly and leans towards him with his elbows resting on the armrest.

"Have I told you how much cuter you look when you're angry?"

Lilia sputters, face turning vibrant red. "Be serious!"

"I am serious," Levan hums as he reaches to tuck some hair behind Lilia's ear. The other general swats his hand away and he laughs at the flustered pout on the smaller fae's face. "I pity those nobles, truly I do, but like you and I, I have a feeling our Meleanor knows that our young prince is keeping a secret. So at the end of the day, there is no harm done, hm?"

Lilia gapes and blinks at Levan in bewilderment.

"He told you?"

Levan smiles secretively, a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He must know as much as Lilia does then, and though he is relieved to know that his friend is supportive of Malleus's feelings, he still dreads the inevitable of Meleanor discovering it for herself. Meleanor is both temperamental and viciously protective of her child, especially since his life had been threatened after she laid his egg during the human invasion centuries ago. It's quite easy to imagine her most likely reaction to her son being interested in courting a human.

"He did. He also requested assistance from me." Levan looks up and his eyes brighten. "There it is now."

Levan waves his hand. Lilia's keen ears catch the sound of beating wings and he turns around to see a window opening. A raven flies into the throne room and settles on Levan's offered arm. The bird caws a greeting to Lilia before bowing its head to the lord.

"Welcome back, my friend," Levan coos as he strokes its wing. "What news do you bring from the Rose Queendom?"

Lilia perks up at mention of the Rose Queendom and looks at the bird with interest. The familiar makes a series of clicks and squawks. Lilia isn't the most fluent in corvid speak so he waits for Levan to translate, but when he looks to his friend, the other fae's smile has turned into an ominous frown.

"…It's not good news, I'm guessing."

----

Malleus typically finds comfort in isolation. It brings him the silence he requires to think and focus on both official and personal matters. Unfortunately though, for his current predicament, his most trusted method of comfort only seems to distress him more.

The conflict between the Rose and Lily Queendoms is taking it's toll on you. It's inevitable—He sees it a lot in Father and Lilia, how their gazes would sometimes look haunted by ghosts unseen to him even when doing the most mundane tasks —but that does not mean Malleus has to like it, or that either him or you should simply allow it to wear you down.

Sometimes, when he is speaking with you, you would get a faraway look in your eyes, lost in thought. During those moments the bags beneath your eyes look more prominent, your body thinner, your skin paler. You would apologise for losing track of the conversation and Malleus would excuse it, but within his chest a pit grew deeper and deeper, filling with irrational concern for you.

The desire to hoard and care for those most cherished to him isn't a foreign feeling to Malleus. He recalls that at a young age he would nest with his parents at night and steal Lilia and his father's weapons to stop them from leaving the castle for their duties. Now, he watches over Silver while he sleeps and sits at the water's edge when Sebek practices his swimming.

It is something normal for dragons to want their loved ones happy and safe, but the way he feels it with you is incomparable. He cares for you, (which had initially surprised him, to care for a strange human) there's no doubt about it, but more than anything else he wants to be the one to care for you, to ensure your safety. To take you away and tuck you inside his wings, to gift you all the luxuries you could ever need so that you would no longer be hurt or troubled.

And the strangest thing? He desires the same thing from you as well. For you to care for him, cherish him, want him, love him. For you to take his hand and let him whisk you away to somewhere the two of you could see and speak to each other every day, where you could sit and listen contentedly to him and him to you and help him with his woes like he wishes to help you with yours.

Confiding in Lilia had been what led him to realise his feelings for you. The older fae's recollection of his parents' courtship had been… concerning, but it reassured Malleus that his desires were not unusual and that, most importantly, his beloved caretaker accepted you.

It had taken more courage to approach Lord Levan, but he should have known that his understanding father would support him wholeheartedly. At Malleus's request, his father had sent one of his ravens to the Queendom and Malleus now spends almost every waking moment anxious for its return.

Telling his mother about you is… another matter entirely.

You were right that it wouldn't be wise to bring you into his home. He loves his mother, but like him, she possesses the nature of the dragon. She is caring, excessively so, and… incredibly protective, to say the least.

And to say that Malleus is fearful of her discovering his romantic feelings for you, a human—a race she loathes with her entire being—is an understatement.

You are fearless, perhaps a little foolish, but not saneless. She will chase you off as she has many others. The incident today was only one of many.

Regardless of his mother's ill manners and your reluctance to be with him, Malleus's heart does not stop yearning and yearn he does as he sits alone in his rose garden, innocent red rose in hand, plucking each poor petal after the other as his thoughts whirl around his mind uselessly.

Perhaps he should have been more insistent. Perhaps he should have taken you back anyway. Perhaps—

"Malleus?"

The click of his mother's heels on the garden's stone path grow louder with each approaching step. Meleanor appears beneath the rose arch to the gazebo and Malleus hurriedly brushes off the petals that have gathered on his lap.

"There you are. I have been looking for you, dear." Mother smiles as she walks up the steps of the gazebo, the long train of her skirt dragging behind her. She eyes the rose petals scattered around him. "What are you doing?"

"Ah. I am picking rose petals… for tea." His mother raises an eyebrow at his reluctant tone so he quickly diverts the topic. "Am I needed somewhere, Mother?"

"No, no." Meleanor sweeps up her cloak to that it isn't trampled beneath her when she takes a seat next to him. "I was merely worried." With gentle claws, she cradles Malleus's chin and lifts his gaze to hers. "I did not scare you, did I?"

"No—" Never, he wants to say. Even if she can summon the most destructive storms and move mountains with a snap of her fingers, Malleus can never be afraid of his mother, but the churning feelings in his gut lodges the words in his throat.

Malleus pulls away from her touch, looking away before he can see her frown. "I apologise, Mother. I exhibited behavior unbecoming of a prince in front of our visitors."

Instead of reprimanding him, his mother laughs. She's always so self-assured; with her magic, with her choices. It's one of the many things he admires but also envies about his mother. If only he can reach that point of confidence in his life much sooner.

"My silly little beast. There is nothing to apologise for," his mother coos, brushing a lock of hair out of his face with a careful talon. "You did no harm. After all, you have been so distracted because you already have your eye on someone, don't you?"

Malleus turns towards his mother, wide-eyed, and her eyes glitter with excitement as she grins.

"How did you—" Malleus stops himself. How is he supposed to tread this? "…Did Father tell you?"

Meleanor's smile falls. "No, but I am hurt you chose to tell him before me."

Malleus swallows. He laces his fingers together in an effort to make himself feel less unsteady. "How do you know, then?"

"Come now, you didn't think a mother would not be able to see that her son has fallen in love, did you?" Meleanor giggles behind her claws, eyes bright with eagerness. She leans in towards her son and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me, tell me; what are they like? How did you meet? And most importantly: When will I meet them?"

Malleus opens his mouth and pauses. What does he tell her? Every scale on his being is restless, eager at the presented opportunity to talk about you, but certainly, he cannot tell his mother about you. About your humanity. She would, as Lilia frequently describes it, erupt. He did not need that display from earlier in the throne room to know this well.

(He grew up all his life with it after all; His mother losing her head at every slight insult or threat towards him and striking it with bolts of lightning until it runs away screaming.)

Malleus does not fear his mother, let alone resent her, but he does rather often catch himself wondering what it would be like if she were not so hot-headed.

"They are…" Malleus quickly trails off as soon as the attempt begins. He glances at his mother warily. She is giving him her full attention. The support should be encouraging, but the dread within him only increases. "You cannot meet them."

His mother reels back as if he had shocked her with electricity. Her eyes widen and then narrow. Her brows furrow and her lips pull into a displeased pout.

"Whyever not? …Are you ashamed of me?"

"What? No, of course not!"

"Embarrassed, perhaps?"

"Far from it."

"Then do you fear that I would scare them off?"

"Yes— Ah, I mean—!" Malleus screws his mouth shut and looks away again. Meleanor chuckles in amusement.

"Silly beast," she tuts. Behind him, Malleus's tail thumps agitatedly and she twines her own around it to soothe him. "I am flattered that you think so highly of me, but I assure you that any mate worthy of you will not cower so easily before me."

Malleus wraps his tail around his mother's offered one, but his expression is one of scepticism. "How do you know for certain? Do you truly have so much faith in my choice of a partner?"

"Oh, of course not! You are still just a little beast after all," Meleanor teases with a light pinch to his cheek. "What I mean is that, whoever you choose, we shall know if they are truly the correct mate for you if they remain beside you regardless of any trials."

"Oh… I see…" Malleus lowers his head. He clasps his hands tightly together. He can still remember the phantom feeling of your own hands on them, of you pulling away from him. Of him watching your retreating back after once more rejecting his offer to take you away.

"Darling?" His mother places her hands on his and the memory fades away. "Is something the matter?"

"I… I want you to meet them, truly I do, but…" Your face flashes before his eyes again, with it your shy smile and your voice whispering,

"Someday."

Malleus gathers his resolve and faces his mother. "Not anytime soon, I fear."

His mother pouts again. "Oh, come now—!"

"I don't think they would fear you." There's no way to know for certain until you actually meet her, but it is something he's fairly confident in. "It is that… they are currently occupied and will not be able to make time to come to our lands in the near future."

Meleanor's eyes light up with newfound interest. "Oh? They are not of the Briar Fae?"

Malleus bites his lip anxiously. "Er, no. They are—"

A bird sings overhead. The two dragons on the gazebo lift their heads and see a silver-haired knight walk through the rose arch.

"Lady Meleanor, Lord Malleus." Silver dips into a quick bow and rises again. "I apologise for interrupting."

"Oh, Silver! What a pleasant surprise. Have you finished your training today? Come, come. It has been too long since we last spoke." Meleanor beckons to the young knight to sit next to her.

"Er, if I recall correctly, we spoke just this morning—!"

Meleanor doesn't let him hesitate for long. She crooks her finger and wisps of purple magic tug on his uniform until he's standing on the gazebo.

"I apologise profusely, my lady," Silver stammers as her magic fades off of his clothes. "But I'm afraid I cannot stay long, my father requests to see Lord Malleus—"

"Does he!" Meleanor's eyebrows are arched, her expression devious in a way both boys know does not hold good intentions for their respective fathers. "How fortunate, I was hoping to speak to him about Malleus."

"Mother—"

"Lady Meleanor—"

Before either boy could get a word in, magic begins to swirl around the princess's fingers and she chants, "Come, my eyes and ears, my wings and feet."

Magic swirls and shimmers around her. Beneath her feet, her shadow ripples, and a raven bursts out of it with a frantic caw.

"Now why are you in such a hurry?" Meleanor tuts, easily catching the bird out of the air before it could fly off. The bird squawks and flaps its one wing that hadn't managed to be caught in her hand. She directs a firm gaze on it and it freezes, letting a pathetic noise out of its beak. Malleus winces in sympathy.

"Where is my Right?" Meleanor looks down at her shadow, displeased, but quickly smiles again when she turns to Silver. "Give me a hand, dear."

With them pointing downwards, Meleanor pinches together the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. She makes a pulling motion and a squealing bat emerges out of Silver's shadow. It manages to escape the princess's grasp on it but only briefly before she catches it by its legs.

The bat squeaks and screams, no doubt profanities blasphemous when directed at the crown princess, but she is unfazed. Silver looks down at the poor creature apologetically as it clings to his uniform in an attempt to shake off the dragoness's claws.

"What is the matter with you? Stop behaving so childishly. Look, your son is being much more mature than you, how embarrassing." Meleanor forces the bat to let go of the boy and holds it upside down, continuing to be unfazed as it claws at her lace gloves angrily. "You should know better than to ignore a summons from your mistress."

She shakes the bat in a not-so-gentle manner and the animal grows in size and changes shape until Lilia is hanging by the ankles. The raven does the same, but Meleanor lets Levan go so he can perch on her arm more comfortably.

"—the matter with you! You absolutely insane princess!" Lilia yells once he's finally taken his two-legged form again.

"Yes, you're very adorable, dear," Meleanor says dismissively with a pinch to his nose. Lilia hisses at her, but despite his complaints there's no real heat to them and he calms down quickly. "Now, my loves, when were the two of you going to tell me that a secret someone has caught our Malleus's interest?"

"I sincerely apologise, darling," Levan says mournfully, and any amount of aggression in his wife's expression fades away when he pecks a kiss on her cheek. "but it was not our secret to tell."

"Alright, I suppose I can forgive that. I'm sorry, dears." Meleanor looks at her son and husband fondly but scowls when she turns to Lilia. "Not you."

Lilia sticks his tongue out at her without remorse. With difficulty, he twists around to address Silver. "You've found Malleus! Well done, my boy."

"Thank… you, Father."

"What is it that you wished to speak to me about?" Malleus asks, tilting his head in an effort to meet Lilia's eyes. The bat fae exchanges a look with the prince's father and then glances at the princess holding him captive.

"Perhaps we should wait until later—"

"Wonderful, since I wished to speak to both of you about a different matter." Meleanor's expression turns into a deceptively sweet one that immediately has Lilia's face souring. "My loves, would you tell Malleus that you also desperately wish to meet this secret potential mate of his?"

She flutters her eyelashes for good measure. Malleus sighs and shakes his head.

"Mother…"

"I know what you said, but perhaps with encouragement from all three of us we can twist a few rules…"

"Actually, my love, what we wish to discuss concerns this… person." Meleanor raises an inquisitive eyebrow at her husband sitting on her arm.

"What?" All eyes turn to Malleus. The prince suddenly rises from his seat, pupils thinned to slits. Leftover rose petals scatter to his feet. "Has something happened to them?"

"I apologise, Malleus, but Lilia is right." Levan casts a quick look towards Meleanor and Malleus understands immediately.

Meleanor looks frustratedly between her son and husband, unhappy at being the only one uninformed. "Now what is this about? Why are you so reluctant to speak of this person within my presence?"

Lilia purses his lips, determined to not say a thing, meanwhile Levan looks towards his son again meaningfully.

Malleus takes a breath.

"It is what I have been meaning to tell you. Mother…" Malleus glances at Silver standing to the side, at attention. "Silver is a human."

Meleanor blinks. She looks at Silver, back at Malleus, and then bursts into laughter.

"But of course he is, silly beast!"

Malleus attempts to continue, but she doesn't stop laughing like it's the most hilarious joke she's heard in a century. He looks to his father helplessly. Levan gives him an encouraging smile but the doubt that twitches the edges of his lips isn't very reassuring. Meanwhile, Lilia sighs exasperatedly and Silver frowns in confusion.

"Well, Mother…" Meleanor keeps laughing and the longer the seconds tick by the more his confidence falters. Perhaps… If he says it now, she won't hear and she can remain in ignorant bliss. "This person I am in love with is a human as well."

The laughter stops so abruptly that the deadly silence sounds as loud as a crash of thunder.

"What."

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleyuu #meleanor draconia #levan draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x mc

[dangerkittenclaws]

Are your requests still open? I’d love a fic where the (AFAB) reader is in a situation where she’s forced to share a bed with Vessel (maybe she’s a musician who’s touring with ST and the hotel is short on rooms? lol I know it’s super cliche) and in the middle of the night he wakes her up by initiating sex? 🥰

This was so fun to write, thank you!! And thank you for being my first request/ask, I'll never forget it! Sorry it took me a hot second to finish. To be honest, I feel I got a tad carried away but I hope I did our lean bean of a man justice! <3

vessel x f!band!reader

warnings: smut MDNI +18

You were waiting in the lobby of the hotel your tour agent had booked, spinning your luggage case lazily by its extended handle. The staff had been frantic as your large group entered the building.

 IV was at the counter talking to the man who was clicking desperately at his computer. Something clearly was wrong with the reservation, but you were so tired that you really didn't care, you just wanted to slide into a cozy bed and sleep like the dead. It had been a long day, not including the show tonight and piling into a van afterwards. 

Two of your best friends and bandmates, Alexis and Maggie were sitting on one of the lobby couches quietly showing memes to II. Vessel, III, and Liv, your bassist, were sitting on the bench right next to them. You all had gotten to know each other fairly well considering you inhabited a bus for numerous hours, watched each other practice, and went out to eat together. 

You had noticed Vessel staring at times the past few weeks. You didn’t particularly mind the man was checking you out, it felt good to be wanted in a genuine way. You were not opposed to something new. You had become aware of him giving you glances that were a few seconds too long, a hand grazing just a little slower, him waiting for you so he could walk with you to wherever you were going. 

And the teasing and bickering, god, it never ended. You didn't expect any different, being in close quarters with four boys and your three raunchy best friends, it was a constant war. You didn't quite know how to navigate these waters with Vessel though, it had been quite a while since your last boyfriend.

Your attention was brought back by IV walking back over to where you stood, a grimace on his face.

“Something happened to their booking system, they’re overbooked and we're going to have to share rooms until tomorrow.” 

Some sort of seniority took over his voice, “Maggie, Alexis, Liv you can share the two-queen room, II, III, and I will share the other. That leaves you and Ves with the last king room”, he said pointing between you and Vessel. 

Your eyes could’ve popped out of your head at that moment, but you schooled your expression hopefully before anyone noticed. You looked over to your bandmates and saw how Liv wanted to protest, but closed her mouth before she could say anything, knowing it was futile and everyone was too exhausted to care. It was nearing 3am and you were only spending two nights here before traveling again. 

Vessel's eyes instantly shot towards yours, a small smirk forming on his lips, his arms crossed over his chest. Those lips. 

“I guess it's you and me, then, love.” He gets up, standing to his full height before grabbing his duffel bag from beside him. The rest of the group rises and gathers their things, IV giving out key cards in silence. 

You look at your girls, bidding them goodnight with a small wave and suddenly your hands are empty. Vessel had taken it upon himself to steal your suitcase and start walking towards the elevators. 

Startled, Maggie giggles behind you at your expression. Breath leaves your mouth in a sort of sigh and laugh, and your tired legs begin to move in his direction. He is already in the elevator, keeping the door open for you. 

“Damn your long legs.” 

He turns to you once the doors shut, “I hope you have a little bit of energy left in you,” 

You look at him confused, “What do you mean?” You know what kind of tone he has, a playful, flirtatious one that makes you blush. 

“I guess you'll just have to find out, won't you?” the doors open to the new floor and he darts out, immediately walking in long strides and searching for the correct door. You try to keep up, watching him try the key card on the fifth door down the hall and entering. You walk into the blackness of the room knowing he's just in front of you. He nearly giggles as he turns on the bedside lamp and watches your face scrunch up at the sudden light. 

“You could at least warn a girl,” you yawn. Just as described, there is one large plushy looking king bed in the center of the room, a tv mounted to the wall, a little breakfast counter, and a door ajar on the other side, the bathroom. 

Vessel drops both of your bags at the end of the bed, “Okay, me first, I need a shower.” he announces. You scoff and nod anyway, both of you taking out your pajamas and toiletries you'll need to set them aside. 

Vessel puts his hand on your hip from behind you, the boldest move he’s made yet, “I’ll be quick” is all he whispers near your ear. The warmth of his hand lingers on you even though you hear the door shut. You finally breathe again, you had stood frozen for too long. Is this really happening? 

You finally search out the TV remote, finding some mind-numbing home renovation show. You watch a few minutes, zoning out entirely, before the knob of the door twists and you turn your head. Your eyebrows raise at the sight before you. 

He is a little damp, clothes in hand, the last few water droplets running down his lean torso, hair scruffy from the towel dry he did before wrapping it lowly around his waist. You almost drool before looking back up to his eyes. 

“My eyes are up here, darlin,” he smirks. You feel your entire being light up red hot before you want to implode for getting caught staring at the very… enticing area that he is putting on display. It's not like he wears those pants for no reason at shows, it leaves little to your imagination and he knows it. 

You jump up with your head down, grabbing your things and dipping into the bathroom without another word. You shower hot, needing an excuse to be as pink as you were with that fine man that you had been roomed with. Your pajamas were just an oversized Sleep Token shirt and a short pair of plaid shorts. 

After scrubbing the day off of you, you change into your pajamas before your hand hesitates at the knob. You breathe out. We are just sleeping. We aren’t even anything yet. Why am I being so dramatic about this? 

You summon all of your courage to open the door and look out to see Vessel in bed, scrolling his phone, the room only illuminated by the TV. You put your leftover toiletries and laundry on top of your bag before plugging in your phone and pulling back the covers on the other side.

Vessel looks over to you, “Come here, love”, opening his arms to you. You snuggle into his side and onto his chest, as his hand rubs up and down your back. You involuntarily let out a little sigh of relief, finally you can rest. You fall asleep like that, him holding you close and warm. 

You wake up a few hours later, having turned to your side in your sleep, one of his still around your middle and the other under your neck. 

You move slightly and become aware of something pressed against your ass. You immediately hold your breath.

You slowly breathe out, and try to inch yourself away. His arm tightens around you. Oh shit, he’s awake. 

Like he reads your nervousness, he starts to kiss along the back of your neck to the side, underneath your ear. You shiver at his warm breath. 

“Hmm, I'm sorry, I just couldn't help it with your ass backed up to me darling.” You smile and blush at his words, knowing the effect you have on him. He grinds a bit into you as his hand slowly moves towards the waistband of your shorts. 

You realize your shirt had bunched up just below your tits just as his other hand reaches up and runs through your hair, long fingers pulling just enough for your head to move back. You turn to your back when he easily grazes over your clit and you clench your thighs together. Vessel gives you a little growl in your ear and your thighs cave open as quick as your resolve. 

“I've wanted you for so long, sweet thing, and I've got you all to myself now.” His fingers move in slow, small circles over your clit and your hands go to his bicep, grabbing at him for more. You let out a small moan as you lose yourself in the feeling of warmth of both of his hands touching your body and the building starry sensation in your belly. 

You reach down towards his stomach, caressing down, trying to burn the feeling of his skin into your mind before coming into contact with the curls of his hair. You hesitate slightly and he quickly attacks your lips, like he's reading your mind again. 

You continue on to wrap your hands around his long, hard dick and begin tugging on it. He smiles against your neck and brings his other hand up under your shirt to massage your tit before pulling your nipple taut and thumbing over the hard bud forming. He does the same with the other while his fingers work their way into your wet cunt, one slender finger at a time. 

You are getting impatient now, kissing his lips and neck, sucking his soft skin into your mouth to leave your mark. He lets out a whimper before seemingly regaining control of himself. Noted for future reference. 

He slides down your body in a quick moment before licking up your slick cunt, making you nearly cry out. He tongues your entrance before making his way up to your clit and practically latches on. You claw at the bed sheets beneath you eventually finding his grown out hair to pull. You don't know if you want him to stop or if you want more, this is so much better than your own fingers. You buck up into his mouth and he locks his arm around your thighs to keep you from squirming away. That feeling in your stomach is burning. 

He makes a few deliberate swipes of his tongue in succession over your clit and he watches that you come undone beneath him. Your eyes roll back, your hips tighten, and you gasp out his name. He keeps his tongue flat against you, tasting your cum before coming up to kiss you. 

The moment you taste yourself on him is the moment you feel him press against your swollen pussy. You moan into the kiss, wanting more of him. He grabs himself to properly press his dick into you. He does it slowly, making sure you savor every inch. 

“Please, please, Vessel, please”, you beg him. 

“Please what, kitten?”, that slow devilish smirk comes back with a vengeance on his wet lips. 

“Please fuck me, I need you to fuck me.” You mumble out, embarrassed but full of anticipation. 

He thrusts into you fully, making both of you moan out curses. Ves sets a pretty quick pace but makes sure to hit the one spot inside you that makes your pussy tighten around him on every pass. He bottoms out, touching the beginning of your cervix and you see his eyes roll back. 

“God, you are better than I ever imagined.'' He reaches his hand down between the both of you to play with your clit again. This time though, your orgasm is quick to approach with him inside of you. His fingers move swiftly as you grind yourself down onto his cock to meet his every thrust. 

You are scratching down his back trying to find purchase with how full he makes you feel. Soon enough, the pool of white hot in your belly is overflowing again and he changes the angle just slightly, fucking you through your orgasm. You moan out knowing your pussy is clenching around his dick in a vice grip. Just as you cum around him, he settles deep within you and his fingers dig into your hips. His thick ropes of cum spill into you and he pulls out to leave your cunt messy. 

You open your eyes half-lidded after a moment, trying to catch your breath, “Jesus, did you… did you plan that all along?!” 

He smiles wide at you, “Which part, the room sharing or the me-getting-you-to-myself?” 

“Either?” 

“The rooms being short just happened to play into my favor, but I was plotting to get you alone this weekend, my sweet kitten.” He pecks your lips before moving to the bathroom to get a warm towel for you both. 

You sigh out as you watch him, “I didn’t know what I was missing out on, really.” 

You hear his sweet laugh as he comes back in, gently running the towel over your pussy, cleaning you up. You squirm a bit but are easily distracted by the kisses he leaves on your inner thigh. You let out a small yelp when you feel teeth graze and a quick nip before he pulls away. 

He slides in next to you again, pulling you close, “If I have it my way, you’ll be mine forever.” 

“I’d really like that,” you murmured against his chest. You feel him press his lips to the top of your head before you fall back into a satisfied dreamless sleep.

#dangerkittenclaws #sleep token #sleep token fanfic #vessel sleep token #sleep token fanfiction #vessel x reader

[tkaulitzlvr]

Hi!! Could you maybe do Tom visiting reader at the hospital after she fainted and he’s trying to hide his concerns and wants to make her laugh. If you want to write it please feel free to decide if you want it to be rather angst or fluff since I completely trust your vision. Thaaaanks <3

HERE FOR YOU - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: when you faint unexpectedly and are sent to hospital, tom rushes to be at your side, trying to make your experience a little less painful.

content: fluff

a/n: thankyou so much for the request!! i feel like i don’t write enough fluff lol i’m gonna try write more. sorry this is so short too, i hope it’s okay!

tom had stopped everything that he was doing the second he had received the call from the hospital that i had been admitted. it was nothing serious, i had fainted again, but with it happening a little more often than usual the doctor wanted to keep me there overnight. i was a little worried, but i knew deep down that i would be okay. tom on the other hand, didn’t feel so at ease. he had stopped everything at the studio, becoming a panicked mess, pacing the room with his hand on his head as the doctor explained my situation. the second the call ended, he began collecting his things, saying that he had to leave, much to his band mates annoyance, but he sternly told them that he ‘i was his main priority’, scolding them for being so inconsiderate.

so he quickly left, making a quick stop at the supermarket before heading to the hospital, driving completely over the speed limit - not that he cared about the law right now, his full attention was on seeing me, rushing to the hospital desk once he had arrived, his legs unable to carry himself to my room fast enough.

the door slowly crept open, the familiar dreads and baggy attire making their way through it. his chest was heaving up and down, his lips parted as he was clearly breathless from practically running all the way here. i smile weakly at him, his face softening once he saw my state. i must admit, the situation probably looked a lot more worrying upon first glance- i was laid in a hospital bed, my eyes puffy and tired, a few machines hooked up to my body which was covered by a hospital gown that almost drowned me.

“oh meine liebe…” he begun, rushing over to me, sitting in the seat beside the hospital bed, shuffling closer to me and cupping my face in his hands. “i’m so sorry it took me so long, i left as soon as i could, i should’ve come sooner, god i feel so-”

“tom, baby, it’s okay. i’m fine, really. all this stuff is just a precaution.” i cut him off, giggling slightly at his worried state, knowing that it is all for nothing. i look into his lap, seeing a fresh bouquet of flowers and a small box of chocolates, my heart melting at the sight. “what’s this?”

my hand points to the objects on his lap as he looks downwards, seeing what i am referring to. his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as his eyes meet mine, his hands now clutching the flowers and chocolates.

“oh, sorry. i got these for you.” he says, handing the flowers to me as i left them to my nose, the sweet aroma soon filling my nostrils, temporarily getting rid of the horrible hospital smell that habituated in them before. “i hope you like them, i couldn’t decide which ones to get.”

“are you crazy? i love them. but, you really didn’t have to, thank you.” i smile, placing them on the small table to the side of me, leaning upwards and softly kissing tom on the lips as he smiles into it, pecking mine a few more times before pulling away, interlocking his fingers with mine as his thumb strokes my hands comfortingly, a calm silence taking over as the rhythmic beeping of the machine is the only sound to be heard.

he was worried. i could tell from the way his leg was bouncing up and down, his tongue fiddling with his lip ring, these all regular habits that i had picked up on whenever he was anxious about something. but he tried his best to hide it, holding my hand in his, telling me small jokes, seeing the way small giggles escape from my mouth, my happiness easing his nerves a little, but they never fully faded.

“bill said my face went literally as white as this when i got the call.” tom laughs, his hand pointing to the pearly white wall to the side of him. “i’ve never been so scared in my life. honestly, i thought i was gonna throw up.”

i shake my head, a small smile tugging on my lips as i laugh in disbelief of his ability to overreact. my heart aches at his confession, though, finding it completely adorable that he cares so much, getting worked up over the smallest things. but i wouldn’t have it any other way and, despite my teasing, he knows that too.

“you worry too much. you’d think i was dying or something.” i can’t contain my laughter now, a toothy grin on my face as he rolls his eyes jokingly.

“sorry for worrying about my girlfriend, i won’t show up next time. in fact, i’ll just eat the chocolate for myself, since you don’t appreciate my love.” he jokes, but i can tell my words make him a little ashamed for reacting the way he did, his eyes falling to his lap.

“hey, i’m only kidding. i think it’s cute how nervous you get.” i smile, kissing his lips once more as he playfully tilts his head to the side, dodging my affection.

i open my mouth in shock, pulling away from him and slumping back downwards in my seat, folding my arms against my chest. “fine then, don’t even kiss your seriously ill girlfriend, i’m practically on my death bed and you don’t even love me.”

i pretend to be offended, pouting and turning my body away from him, but his firm grip quickly moves me onto my back, his lips showering my face with kisses as he mutters out a chorus of ‘sorry’s and ‘i love you’s, his touch tickling a little, but i cannot help but allow a smile to spread across my face, his company exactly what i need right now. he kisses my forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, before finally pecking my lips, pulling away and staring lovingly into my eyes.

he continues to comfort me for the next few hours, the small window in the room showing the sky as it starts to grow dark, a mix of dark oranges and pinks taking over as the night dawns over us, neither of us going anywhere. my eyes begin to grow tired, falling shut as i know that i won’t be able to stay awake much longer, having not slept the entire day, my episode making me much more lethargic than usual. tom sits on the chair beside me, stroking my hair and helping me rest, but it isn’t enough. i can’t properly fall asleep, my eyes opening in frustration. the nagging feeling in me never fades, my body feeling strangely cold not being in his embrace as i usually am every night.

i shuffle over, making room for him and opening the covers. “hold me.” i mutter, longing to feel his arms around me, knowing that it is what i need to finally fall asleep.

he smiles sympathetically, standing up from the chair and climbing into the hospital bed, propping himself up as he places the covers back over us. my head instinctively rests on his side, his arm wrapping supportively around my shoulder, his thumb slowly stroking it. he places a short kiss on my forehead, pulling me closer into him as i wrap my arm around his torso, snuffling further into his embrace, my eyes shutting slowly.

“get some rest schatz, you need it. i’ll be right here when you wake up.” he whispers, resting his head on top of mine, listening as my breathing steadies, finally falling into a peaceful slumber as i wonder how i had gotten so lucky.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #kaulitz twins #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz

[wrongplacerighttime]

Hi!! This is my first fic that I’m posting. I wrote it loosely based on this love by taylor. I write for my own enjoyment usually but this is my first time sharing my work!! I hope you enjoy it <3

word count: 7.5k (got carried away lol)

tw: smut MDNI!!, hints at dom harry, fluff, angst, drinking, kind of feelings of regret, mentions of a cheating partner.…i think that’s it but lemme know if i missed any :’)

This Love Left A Permanent Mark

This was a terrible idea.

My inner monologue has been repeating the phrase through my head like a mantra from the moment I walked through the glass doors of the club.

In hindsight, I don’t know why I didn’t think this sooner. Why did I think coming to my ex-boyfriend's album release party was a good idea? In what world would that ever be a good idea? Especially the way we ended things. I mentally note to never let Ginny talk me into something like this ever again, even if she is dating a member of his team. I recall the conversation we had about it a mere four days before this moment.

“It’ll be fun! And he’ll be busy talking to people all night anyway. He won’t even know you’re there, probably.” she insisted

“I don’t know, Gin. I really don’t want to crash his night.” I mumble, twiddling with the menu on the table in front of me.

“You need to get out of the house. All you do is sit and read your books and play your guitar. It makes me sad and depressed.” her nose crinkles in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with that?” I shoot back, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing, I guess.” She shrugs. “I just think you deserve to have a good night. I won’t tell Joe you’re coming so he doesn’t mention it to Harry. You can just hang around and mingle and drink and dance with me.” She reaches over the table and takes my hand in hers. “Please. We haven’t had a night out in so long.” she gives me a pouty lip and I roll my eyes.

“We could go out any other night.” I point out and she sighs loudly.

“True…but this would be perfect. You don’t have to pay for any drinks or deal with sleazy guys at the bar. Just industry people doing industry people things and listening to the album at a big party.”

I contemplate her request. What’s there to lose? I weigh the options in my head for a moment. If I don’t go, she’s right, and I’ll just sit in my room all night flipping through the same romcoms and sitcoms that I’ve already watched 3 times over. I’ve been doing fine for a few months now. I’ve been going on dates again, and meeting new guys. On the other hand, no one will ever be him and I have no idea how I’ll react if I do end up seeing him…or if he sees me. But, there will be so many people there, he’ll be mingling, and he probably won’t see me, right?

“Fine. But if he sees me, I’m bolting. .” I mutter and she squeals in excitement.

Now here I am, sitting at the bar alone in the same spot for the past 45 minutes. Ginny is nowhere to be found, and I’m in an uncomfortable dress that’s too short for my typical comfort zone and the sequins are making me itchy. I twirl the straw around in my drink and sigh, holding my head in my hand.

On the plus side, I’ve avoided him for most of the night. The first time I spotted him was when he was walking into the club, making his grand entrance. I was hiding behind Ginny and he didn’t see me. But when I saw him my heart skipped. He’s wearing a cream colored suit, that looks almost a baby pink color if it’s in the right light, with a white tank top underneath that shows off his toned chest along with the two swallows tattooed on his tanned skin, and his cross necklace hanging from his neck. He’s got a pair of glasses with orange colored lenses perched on his head also. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wish I was on his arm right now.

This was a terrible idea.

It’s been over a year since I saw him last. I don’t even know what he’s writing about in his music because I avoid every single thing about him. Arguably one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do because he’s everywhere right now. If I see his name in the news, I don’t read the article. If he’s on the TV, I change the channel. I scroll past anything I see that his name associated with it. I learned my lesson the hard way in the beginning. I purposely searched his name in the weeks following our tumultuous end, and saw so many pictures of him with other women…and every time I saw him with them, the picture of him that I saw that night comes to my brain. So I stopped putting myself through that misery.

I hear a loud noise like someone patting a microphone. I turn my head to see Harry standing at the front of the room on a small stage. He’s looking out to the crowd of people who are now mostly turned to face him. He looks my way for a moment, and I feel my breath catching in my throat, but then he skips over me and continues skimming the crowd, and I let go of the breath I was holding.

“Hello, I’m Harry.” His deep voice sounds so smooth in the microphone and my stomach churns. It’s been so long since I’ve heard his voice.

“We know!” Someone yells back to him and the room erupts in laughter, making Harry chuckle into the microphone. So many thoughts are going through my head while I stare across the room at him, like the last time I heard him laugh like that. I turn back to face my drink so I don’t have to look at him. How good he looks.

“I just wanted to say thank you all for coming. It really means the world to me that I get to celebrate the release of my third album with all of you. I wouldn’t be here, in this moment, if it weren’t for every single one of you. All of you have played such an important role in making me the artist that I am. So thank you.” I sneak a peek at him from the corner of my eye. He brings his hand up to place over his heart in an endearing gesture. “Now, let’s get this show on the road and listen to it, shall we?” He says cheekily and the crowd sounds off with applause and cheers. The speakers in the room begin to play the tune of the first song and he walks off the stage making his way around the crowd of people, stopping to shake hands and chat with some of them.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and flinch in surprise, only to whip my head around and see Ginny hopping up into the seat next to me. I shoot her a look that shows I’m not happy with her and she tilts her head. The song changes and the next song is just as upbeat as the first.

“What? What’s wrong?” She questions and I roll my eyes.

“I’ve been sitting here alone for 45 minutes. You left me. You said you wouldn’t.” I pout, looking back down at my half-empty drink.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Joe wanted to introduce me to some people and then I lost track of time. I won’t leave again. I’m yours for the night. Promise.” She wraps her arm around my shoulders and squeezes me into her and I smirk. She orders a drink and I turn to face the crowd again. I don’t see Harry anywhere, and I feel the tension I was holding in my shoulders release a fraction.

We sit for a while, drinking and chatting amongst ourselves and other people who come to the bar while they’re waiting for their drinks to be made. They mostly talk to Ginny and ask how things with Joe are going, while I just listen and add little bits to the conversation here and there. I’m turned to face her at the same moment the 5th song ends and turns to a slower one, not as upbeat as the others. And they’re all so good. His talent really shining through in all of these words he’s written.

The chatter dies down a little, everyone taking in the beginning of the song before it picks back up again. Some people are swaying to the music and others are standing in groups. While looking through the crowd I spot some of Harry’s famous friends and when one of them makes eye contact and waves at me, I wave back. I feel a little stab in my chest, thinking back to a time Harry and I would be over there talking to them together. We would talk about how their projects are going and their plans for the future. Harry would always have his arm draped over my shoulder, pulling me closer to his side and kissing the top of my head. I sigh and continue to look around the room, looking for anyone else I might know, but then I spot him.

He’s sitting in a large curved booth with three others. He’s leaned over listening to one of them speak. I watch as his jaw clenches, and a small piece of hair falls down over his forehead. His eyes crinkle the way I always remember when he smiles and I can feel my breath leave my chest, just looking at him like this stole it away. His hand comes up to push his hair back off of his forehead while he nods and I catch the rings adorned on all of his fingers. One of them in particular catches my eye though.

The lion ring.

I gave him the ring as a gift for our anniversary a few years ago. He used to wear it every time he performed, but I didn’t realize he still wore it. You would if you’d ever pay attention to him, my conscience informs me and I swallow the thick lump in my throat. Ginny taps me on the shoulder once, pausing before tapping again, I turn my head towards her, but my gaze was still on the ring on his finger. My eyes work my way back up to his face before I tear them away, admiring his features for another moment. His beautiful green eyes…but when I turn to look at Ginny, I have to do a double take back to him.

Wait.

His eyes?

After a single second my brain catches up and registers that he’s looking at me. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again, his brow furrowed and shaking his head. I see the confusion laced through his expression, and I’m cursing myself, but I can’t look away.

“Fuck.” I manage to squeak out, and Ginny follows my gaze over to Harry.

“Oh shit. Laine, don’t—” she starts to say something but stops when he’s holding up his hand to whoever is speaking to him, signaling for them to give him a moment, and his eyes never leave mine.

“Laine?” I saw him mouth my name. A sight I’ve memorized ten times over. My breathing, my heart, and my mind all stop. Everything stops. It felt like the entire world stopped turning.

Within two seconds he’s standing, pushing his way through groups of people towards me. As he stands, I’m running for the door. I don’t look back. I just keep moving forward through the groups of people, pushing myself through…in the same sense that I have been for 19 months now. Running away and never looking back.

“Run away like you have from everything else.” The words that have infiltrated every single thought in my head for the past 19 months.

This was a terrible idea.

I’m pushing to the door, the air suddenly thick with dread that clouds my mind. I can’t breathe and it’s suddenly so hot. The room around me blurs and I can’t see where I am because there are tears clouding my vision. I’m blinking fast to clear them and all I hear are the last words he ever said to me, and then I feel the familiarity of his touch, and the flashback of the fight comes so quickly that it hits me like a freight train. Coming to the forefront so easily after I’ve tried so hard to just forget.

“Laine! Stop. Please, you don’t have to do this.” His voice drops an octave on the last few words, desperate for me to stay, and I knew I couldn’t.

“No, H. I can’t. This isn’t working. I can’t keep sitting here waiting for you to care about this, about us, when you’re photographed necking a girl at a bar. I sit here looking like a damn fool, waiting for you to love me.” My voice trembles and I shove him away from me.

“It wasn’t even what it looked like! You’re being irrational.” He throws his hands up in the air.

“Me? Irrational? Don’t. We’re falling apart. You’ve been growing so distant. Every time you go out you’re photographed with some other girl…and this time you’re all over her? I know we haven’t been the best lately but this is too much. You’ve gone too far.” I argue back, throwing things into a bag.

“You should know the paps twist everything. Please let me explain!” He’s practically yelling now, and I turn back to face him, rage clouding my mind.

“You cannot explain away this one Harry. All I wanted was for you to look at me the way you look at them. You used to. I used to be the only one you looked at.” My voice trembles, the tears threatening to spill. “It’s time to stop lying to ourselves, this was over a long time ago.” I snap at him with a shake of my head. He looks at me, defeated.

“Fine, Laine. Just go. Run away from this like you have everything else in your life. You’re so predictable.” He shoots back and I visibly flinch, I never thought he would use my past against me.

“You don’t get to say those things to me after doing this. This is your fault. I’m done. It’s over. Go call your new girl, I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” I grit through my teeth. I don’t let him say anything else before I walk out the door, leaving the only place I've ever called home behind.

“Let go of me!” I yell, trying to catch my breath and gasping for air. Trying to push and pull my way out of the grip on my arm. I know it’s him. I’d know the feeling of his hands anywhere. My eyes are squeezed shut.

“Hey! Laine, calm down. Look at me.” He shakes me slightly trying to get me to come back down to earth. I feel his hands let go of my arms and he grabs my face. “Please. Look at me.” I shake my head.

“I can’t. Because if I open my eyes and you’re really standing there and it’s not a dream, I will pass out.” I say quickly, so quickly that my words run together and I’m not sure he even understood what I said. But what am I so afraid of? It’s just Harry. But then again, my mind is replaying his words from that night over and over again. Run away like you have from everything else.

“If you do, I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” His voice is deep and he speaks slowly. His hands are still holding my face. I don’t respond, my lips pressed together in a thin line. My heart is beating out of my chest.

“What are you doing here Laine?” He asks, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“I-,” I stop myself, realizing I have no good explanation, to collect my thoughts. I realize that my eyes are still tightly closed, and I probably look ridiculous. But now that he’s here and the entire world hasn’t imploded yet, I’m beginning to come back down to earth. I realize I don’t hear the music, I don’t hear anyone else talking, and my back is against a cool concrete wall. I open my eyes slowly, and I’m outside, and he’s there. Right there in front of me, not a dream, not a figment of my imagination. His eyes are so green, his jaw is sharp with little bits of stubble beginning to grow. His lips are full and pink, and they look so, so kissable. His hair is perfectly wavy sitting on top of his head, and he’s just close. Closer than he’s been in so many months. I turn my head, looking away from him and down the alley. I take a shaky breath.

“Ginny invited me. I don’t think she told Joe I was coming. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I-I didn’t think…” My gaze travels back to his, and he’s smirking.

“Didn’t think what? That you’d run into me at my own album party?” He asks.

“In hindsight it was not the smartest decision.” I mutter and look down at the ground. I can’t look at him. If I look at him again I’ll want to kiss him and I can’t do that, not anymore. “I think I’m just gonna go home.” I add and look back up at him through my lashes.

“Don’t. Stay. I’m sorry that I scared you. I just haven’t seen you in so long, it caught me off guard. I didn’t know if it was really you sitting there or if my mind was playing tricks on me again.” He rubs his hands down my arms, stopping at my wrists and going back up again, keeping me warm in the cool night air.

“Again?” My brow furrows.

“Yeah. Again. See you everywhere I turn, have since…” He trails off, then shakes his head slightly. “Please, come back in…I’m sorry that I startled you.”

“I need to anyway. I ran out and left all of my stuff with Ginny.” I wrap my arms around my torso to try and shield myself from the cold. He moves out of my way and stands beside me. We walk back inside in awkward silence, and this feels like some terrible kind of walk of shame. He holds the door for me and I mumble a thank you. Someone catches his attention when we walk into the main area so he stops to talk to them and I take that as my cue to walk away before it’s even more awkward. I make my way back over to the bar and Ginny is still in her seat. Her eyes widen at me as she sips through her straw.

“Oh my god. Are you okay? I didn’t know what to do. I saw him coming this and then you were running and then he ran after you and I just froze. I’m sorry. Should I have come to save you?” she rambles on and I shake my head.

“It’s fine. I think I just overreacted. I haven’t seen him in so long and when I saw him coming towards me I panicked. Nothing bad happened.” I sigh and run my hands over my face. My mind wanders, thinking about what he said. He said he sees me everywhere, and he has since the night I left. I didn’t think he even wanted anything else to do with me. Thinking about what he said pulls at my heartstrings and I’m confused…I decide I don’t want to feel this way.

I order a drink from the bartender.

Then another.

Then another.

And before I know it, another hour has gone by, and I’m drunk and on the dance floor laughing with Ginny. I have a drink in one hand and the other above my head, holding onto Ginny’s and swaying our hips together. I’ve not felt this way in a long time. I feel on top of the world, like I’m floating. She leans into me and whispers something in my ear but I don’t quite catch it. I turn towards her with a confused look on my face.

She gestures her head across the room and my gaze travels that direction. I look to find Harry, sitting in the same booth as before. He’s leaned back with one leg crossed so his ankle is resting on his knee. He’s got a drink in his hand, bringing it up to his mouth with a smirk on his face. Smirking at me.

“He’s been watching you for, like, the past 10 minutes. I know because I counted.” Ginny slurs in my ear and I look at her with an eyebrow raised.

“You counted?” I repeated back, skeptical. I don’t think I could even count to 20 right now.

“Um, yeah. It was for like two and a half songs that’s pretty much the same as 10 minutes right?” Her words run together and I turn my head to look at him again over my shoulder. A woman is sitting next to him, trying to get his attention and he’s nodding to whatever she’s saying, but his eyes are still on me.

I don’t really think my brain can comprehend why he’s staring at me in this moment. So I keep dancing with Ginny, and then eventually with other people too. I end up dancing with one of his friends that came up to talk to me, his arm around my shoulder and jumping around, singing the words to a popular song we’ve all heard repeatedly on the radio. I don’t remember when it happened because all my thoughts are running together and Ginny just keeps handing me drinks, and I’m so grateful for that. Grateful that he doesn’t come over to me. But why was he grinning at me like that?

Another hour goes by, I’m standing at a table talking to someone I’ve never met before, but Ginny knows them. Another one of Joe’s clients he manages, I think. I don’t really remember. I’m sipping my drink through a straw, slightly swaying to the music and listening to one of the women at the table speak when I feel hands on my waist, pulling me away from the table. I stumble backwards, feeling my back collide with a strong chest. I turn my head to see that Harry is the one pulling me away. His eyes are dilated and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. He grabs my hand, pulling me into the shadows of the club where no one can see us. He leans down and I can feel his breath on my ear.

“You look so tempting. It’s not fair.” He cups his hand around my cheek, running his fingers down my jaw line then holding my chin between his thumb and finger. He tilts my head up so my eyes meet his. He reaches up, running his thumb over my mouth, pulling my lip as he drags it down. He breathes a heavy sigh through his nose. Bravely, and not in the right state of mind, I gently bite his thumb between my teeth, closing my lips around it and sucking lightly. He chuckles and shakes his head. He just looks so good.

“You’re killing me.” He groans and drops his forehead to meet mine. “All I want right now is you and I can’t have you.”

“Who says you can’t?” I whisper back to him, looking up at him through my lashes, and our faces are so close. So close all I can see are his eyes. He grins and leans in, leaving a small kiss on my neck under my ear, and I feel tingling where his lips touch. I can smell his cologne. I would recognize it anywhere. He grabs my hand and leads me through the crowds of people towards the back door.

“My place or yours?” He asks, his eyes peeking at me over his shoulder.

“Yours.” I answer back without hesitation.

He opens the door and I feel the cold air biting my skin, instantly making my body shiver. We’re walking fast towards his car, his hand still wrapped around mine and pulling me along behind him. He walks me around to the passenger side of his car and opens the door for me. I slide into the seat and my teeth are chattering, when he comes to the drivers side he takes his jacket off and hands it to me over the center console.

We drive to his apartment in silence, his jacket shrugged over my shoulders. The air is filled with tension, both sexual and nervous. I don’t want to speak because I don’t know what to say. He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles, making my heart flutter in my chest. Like he always used to. I don’t pull away. I let him hold my hand against his mouth.

We make our way up to his apartment with haste. The elevator stops and opens to his penthouse, and once we’re inside he’s pushing me against the wall, not wasting a single second, and his lips finding mine. He grabs my hips so hard that I’m sure there will be bruises. When my mouth opens he’s slipping his tongue inside and I feel my knees weaken. He kisses me like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to.

He’s grabbing my thighs and lifting me up, all without breaking the kiss and instinctively my legs wrap around his waist. My hands work their way into his hair and pull slightly, making him groan into my mouth. He carries me into his room, the room we used to share, and lays me down ever so gently. He’s hovering over me, his knee between my thighs and putting pressure on my center. His kiss and his touch feel so familiar that it hurts, and I can feel it in my bones. Something I’ve longed for since the very last time. I feel my muscles melting into the bed with the weight of him on my chest. I moan into the kiss and he pulls away slightly.

“Been thinking about this for so fucking long, Laine. Think about you every day.” He whispers, touching his forehead to mine. My brain feels fuzzy and somewhere in my mind my conscience is telling me not to sleep with him, that I’ll regret it, but I push the thought out of my mind and focus on him hovering over me, paying attention to me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted him to do. The only thing I’ve craved for the past 19 months.

“Just kiss me.” I say breathlessly, and he does. His hand travels to the nape of my neck and grips tightly, holding my face to his. His lips are as soft as I remember. My veins are buzzing with a mixture of pleasure and alcohol, and I feel the heat grow through my entire body. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m grinding my hips against his thigh that's still between my legs and I whimper into his mouth at the friction it gives and he pulls his lips away just far enough to speak.

“Needy girl.” He purrs and I nod, lolling my head to the side while still moving my hips against his thigh. “Look at you. Need me this badly? No one else than take care of you like me, can they?” He pushes his leg against me harder and I gasp. “Answer me.” He grits through his teeth.

“No.” I choke out, “Nobody but you.” I whine, telling him what he wants to hear. And it’s the truth. Nobody could ever make me feel the way he does.

His hands travel down my body and push my dress over my hips, exposing me to him. He pulls away and looks down at the lacy piece of white fabric settled on my body, biting his lip and running his finger across the waistband, his light touches making me shiver.

“Is this okay?” He murmurs and I nod.

In one swift motion he hooks his finger in the fabric and pulls them down my legs, kneeling in front of my knees. He hooks his arms under my legs and palms the top of my thighs. I close my eyes and feel his breath trailing over my thighs and ghosting over the spot where I needed him the most. He peppers small kisses on my inner thighs, teasing me. I reach my hand down and tangle my fingers in his hair.

“You’re dripping.” He grins and looks up at me through his lashes. “All for me?” His warm breath on my wet center sends chills up my spine.

“No one else. Please, Har. Need you.” I say breathlessly, and I feel him smirk against my skin, grabbing my legs and opening them so far I feel the stretch in my muscles.

“How much?” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

“Please. So much. Need you so much.” I whine and gasp when I feel his tongue begin to lap at my clit, barely letting me finish my sentence. My back arches off the bed and he uses his hands to grab my hips and force me back down. He groans against me and the vibrations travel through my body, making me writhe against the bed. My hand still in his hair tugs at the root slightly, making his eyes flutter closed. My other hand grips the bed sheets so tightly I can feel my nails digging into my palm through the fabric. He trails his tongue down to my leaking hole and thrusts it inside while his nose creates friction at my bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, Harry. So good. Feels so good.” I manage to gasp out between moans in broken phrases. He lifts his head and his chin is glistening with my arousal and he smirks. Going back in fervently he brings me closer and closer to the edge. I feel the coil tighten in my belly and he doesn’t stop.

“I’m so close.” I whisper between gasps and he moans against me again, and the vibration it provides is enough to send me over the edge. The coil snaps and my vision goes white, and I’m moaning his name over and over while he continues to move his tongue against me and working me through my high. I try to push him away from my body on his shoulders but he’s stronger than I am, and the overstimulation brings tears to my eyes and he stares back at me devilishly as he thrusts his tongue into me and my hips buck.

“Please.” I whisper breathlessly. “Hurts, Har.” I gasp as he licks against my now sensitive clit. Finally, he pulls his mouth away from me and stands between my legs at the edge of the bed. My eyes, barely open, travel down his body and stop at the outline of his hard cock in his pants. I sit up and hurriedly work on undoing his belt, not saying a word. I look up at him through my lashes and he’s watching me intently. He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and squeezes, letting me know what he wants. Once his belt is undone I push his pants and underwear down and his cock springs free and hits his abdomen. My mouth waters at the sight, a sight I’ve been dreaming of for months.

I lean forward, wasting no time and lick up his length and he tips his head back with a low groan. I wrap my lips around his leaking tip and suck lightly, then spitting. I pull him into my mouth until he touches the back of my throat and I swallow around him, causing him to curse and tangle his fingers in my hair. He holds my head there for a moment and then let’s go, and I’m coming back up for air before going right back in. I flatten my tongue around him and the tip hits the back of my throat again, my nose meeting the skin of his waist.

“Fuck.” He hisses between his teeth. “If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last.” He moans with his head thrown back, looking at the ceiling. I pull back and take a breath through my nose before repeating the motions over and over, his tip repeatedly hitting the back of my throat until I gag and that’s when something snaps in him. He grabs my hair and twists it in around his fist, moving his hips so he’s fucking my mouth. I moan, causing a vibration to travel from my throat through his cock and then he’s pulling me off, a string of saliva falling out of my mouth. He grabs both sides of my face, pulling me to stand and kissing me with so much force it almost knocks me over completely. “Don’t wanna finish yet. Not done with you.” He mumbles against my lips before pressing them against mine again.

He pushes me down onto the bed and climbs over me. He wastes no time settling himself between my legs. He pulls my dress off over my head and throws it somewhere in the room. He brings his hands up to cup my breasts, and then he tweaks both of my nipples between his fingers, making my mouth drop open in a small, quiet moan escaping. Then, he’s dragging his cock through my folds and pushing into me slowly. I gasp as my back arches off the bed and he grabs my hips to hold me down. I almost forgot how much I missed this. His hips meet mine and his eyes flutter shut and he groans. I writhe under him, needing more and a whine escapes my throat.

“Please H, need you. Please, please.” I whisper. He leans down, bringing his lips to mine and kisses me slowly, his tongue dancing with mine. I moan into his mouth and he grins as he pulls away from me, resting his forehead on mine.

“No. Wanna go slow, missed this so much. Wanna feel every inch of you.” He mutters, rubbing his nose against mine. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out. He trails little kisses down my skin, finally moving his hips slowly. I feel every drag of his thick cock against my walls and the sounds that leave my mouth are almost pornographic.

Savoring the moment doesn’t last long. He picks up his pace, his fingers gripping and digging into my hips so hard I’m sure there will be bruises left in their place. Quickly he pulls out of me and flips me over onto my belly. With his hands still on my hips he brings me up to my knees and pushes back into me, quickly pounding into me without remorse making me cry out.

“Oh god, Harry.” I whine and he tangles a hand in my hair, and yanking so my head lifts from the bed.

“Take me so well, baby. The only one who’s ever taken me so well.” He grits through his teeth, the sound of his hips snapping against my ass echoing through the room along with his demanding tone and me moaning his name over and over. I feel the familiar warmth traveling through my belly as he continues hitting the right spot deep inside me.

“I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.” I beg and his movements become sloppy. The familiarity of this scene gives me deja vu, back to a time when things were simple and all that mattered to us was each other. My brain is fuzzy, and I’m remembering the way he says my name through his gritted teeth and just thinking about it makes me feel euphoric.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me? Go ahead, cum all over my cock.” He demands. “Shit, Laine.” He growls through his teeth, as if he read my mind and saw my memories and knowing how my name dripping from his tongue gives me exactly what I need to send me over the edge.

“Oh, I’m cumming. Fuck, H.” I gasp, and the warmth blossoms at my center and I’m a moaning, whining mess, my walls fluttering around his cock. He groans and stills, and I feel his warmth inside of me, spurting into me and painting my walls with his cum. His hips stutter before pulling out of me and he sighs heavily as he topples onto the bed beside me.

I roll onto my back, my head lolling to the side and looking at Harry through hooded eyes. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing heavily through his nose, both of us coming down from our highs. And he’s perfect. In every way I remember. My eyes trail down his face to his tattooed chest, the butterfly rising and falling with each breath he’s chasing. The muscles in his arms that flex and relax when he runs his hand down his face…and he’s just so perfect…and I missed him, more than anything…and I still love him, more than anything.

Somewhere in the midst of this, the cloud that hangs over my sense of judgment begins to dissipate and I feel my heart sink to my stomach. Why was I here? The first time I’ve seen him in almost two years and we fucked like it was just a hookup? I was doing so well trying to forget everything about him. But this…this puts me right back at square one.

“I-um…I need…” I stutter, trailing off and scrambling out of his bed. I look around and try to find my underwear and my dress strewn across the room, but it’s dark and I can’t really see well.

“What are you doing?” He sits up, propping on his elbows and watching me with a raised brow.

“I need to go.” I say quietly, bending over and pickup up my underwear, then walking to the other side of the room and looking for my dress.

“Why? You can stay here. This was your place once upon a time, too.” He stands up and pulls his pants back on, walking over to me. I’m frantically looking for my clothes, my heart feeling like it’s beating out of my chest. When I still can’t find it, my breathing picks up rapidly and I’m standing there with my hands in my hair, completely nude, about to have a panic attack.

This is so pathetic.

“Hey, Laine. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” Harry says quietly, and I feel his hand on my shoulder. I drop my chin to my chest and I bring my hand up to cover my eyes.

“We shouldn’t have done this.” I mutter between my palms, desperately trying to calm my brain.

You’re irrational. Run away from this like you have everything else. You’re so predictable.

“Why?” He asks like he doesn’t know. Like he forgot. I’m clenching my teeth, wincing because I’m already trying to push it out of my head. “Don’t leave. I want you to stay.” He says softly, his hand trailing down to my waist.

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I ask, nervously. He looks at me with a look of confusion, but doesn’t respond.

“Do you know where my dress is?” I ask, throwing up hands up in the air, gesturing around the room. I slip my underwear back on so I feel at least a little bit covered and he walks into his closet. He comes out with just one of his t-shirts and hands it to me. I slip it over my head. “Thanks but I can’t go home without pants on.” I mutter.

“Can we just talk?” He snaps at me, and I look at him and blink, not registering that he was growing impatient with me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did.”

“What is there to talk about, H?” I ask with a small sarcastic laugh. The nickname I always used for him slipping out like it’s an old habit recently rediscovered. I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the wall.

“Us. Please.” He begs and I sigh.

“There is no us. There hasn’t been for a long time.” I shoot back at him.

“Can I just say what I want to say and then you can decide what you want to do. Please just hear me out.” He asks and I hesitate for a second before agreeing. I’m not sure what he’s going to say, and I’m also not sure how I’m going to react. If I leave now, then what he said to me last time would be true. I’d just be running away like I always do. I give him a nod, letting him know that I’ll listen to whatever he has to say, and he steps closer to me.

He grabs my hand and leads me out of the bedroom and to the living room. He sits on one end of the couch and I sit on the other end facing him, bringing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on top of them, chewing on the inside of my lips nervously. He sighs and runs his hands through his hair.

“So…how have you been?” He asks, scratching his head and I furrow my eyebrows together.

“Really? Small talk?” I ask and he scoffs, shaking his head and looking away from me, averting his gaze to look out the large glass windows in front of us that overlook the city. This was always my favorite room. He stands and walks over to them, leaning his shoulder against them.

“I don’t know what to say. I thought I had it all planned out…what I was going to say if I ever got the chance…and now, I just…” he trails off, shaking his head again and sighing. “I never stopped loving you, Laine. Not even when I was being a fuck up, I think I just forgot…and then I got blindsided by the attention I was getting and I screwed up. But that was never an excuse to treat you the way that I did. I never apologized, and I sincerely am so sorry.” He says, glancing over at me. “If you don’t believe me, I understand. I just wanted you to know that I still love you. I think about you every single day.”

“I wanted to know that you loved me back then, too.” I whisper, hurt lacing my tone. “That’s all I ever wanted.” I close my eyes and try to control my breathing before I let my emotions talk for me. “I gave you everything, every piece of me, waiting for you to love me. I don’t have anything left to give. I’ve been trying not to think about the last words you ever said to me every single day for the past 19 months. It keeps me up every night and eats away at my thoughts, knowing that that was the way you thought of me at the end of our relationship, and using things I told you in confidence against me. When it was never me fucking anything up, it was you…and that hurt me. You said I was irrational for wanting to leave after I saw you with another girl pushed up against a wall, kissing all over her neck.” I stated, bringing back the memory of the night I left. He winces.

“I know, Laine. Fuck, I am so sorry. I would do anything to prove to you that I’m just so fucking sorry.” He strides over to where I sit on the couch and drops to his knees in front of me, pulling my hands into his. “At first, I tried to forget you. I couldn’t. You were in my dreams every single night. When I was with anyone else for the past five hundred ninety-seven days, all I ever did was compare them to you. They were never you.” He holds my hands against his chest. “It’s always been you. I am so sorry I didn’t realize that sooner. I should have fixed us instead of letting you leave.” His voice cracks on the last few words and he’s searching my eyes for any indication of my feelings. “When I saw you tonight, I knew. I’ve been begging to any god that was listening for a sign and then, there you were, and I just knew. It’ll always be you. I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

“Harry, I just…” I trail off, both sides of my feelings fighting each other in my brain. On one hand, this is everything I ever wanted him to say to me. On the other hand, I’m unsure if I can trust him, no matter how sincere his words sound. I look at him, here in front of me on his knees, and I feel the tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “All I ever wanted was you, and you betrayed my trust. How can I trust you again?” I ask.

“I’ll do anything.” He answers quickly. “I will work for the rest of my life to prove that you can trust me. I’m not the same person I was then.” He squeezes my hands. “I know my words aren’t enough, but I promise I will prove them to you. I know I was selfish then. I’m not anymore.” He shakes his head, looking into my eyes. I feel a single tear escape down my face, and he lets go of one of my hands to cradle my cheek and wipe it away. “I just want you to come back to me, baby. Please.” He whispers, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing my knuckles, his eyes closing and taking in a deep breath.

I’m silent for a moment. I know he’s waiting for a response. I know he won’t pressure me if I say no…he’ll let me walk away if I really wanted to, and I think that’s what he’s expecting. The thing is, I don’t want to. I don’t want to run away this time. I’m so tired of running…running from my thoughts, my feelings, from everything. I remember all of the good. Writing with him, playing board games with him, going to events with him, the way he used to stroke my hair in bed every morning, the way he would come up with silly songs to make me feel better when I was having a bad day, the way we would dance in the kitchen while we were making dinner together, the way he always made me laugh and knew the right words to say…and when I think about him, before everything came falling down, all I can think of is the good. Before I can think about it any further I decide to go with my gut.

“Okay.” I whisper. He lifts his head up to look at me, his eyes glistening.

“What?” He looks at me with an expression of disbelief on his face.

“I said okay.” I take my hands from his and grab his face, pulling him closer so I can kiss him. Our lips meet and it’s like everything fell right back into place. After a few seconds, I pull away, touching my forehead to his. “I never want it to be anyone else, either.”

—————

ahhh!! i’m so excited to post this. I think i’m going to write more of their story, like how they met and things leading up to the break up. idk though!!! i hope you enjoy. 🥹 it’s not my best work but i still just love them so much. <3

#harry styles blurb #harry styles x fmc #famous!harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #thisloveleftapermaentmark #taylor swift #this love #harry #styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au

[anamoon63]

"The future only belongs to the future itself, and the future is Electric Youth".

Okay so, Time Traveler (The Crane Legacy) wasn’t a story in the beginning, it started as just gameplay about a young guy from the future, Robin Crane, a plumbot builder, who travels to the past and meets the woman of his dreams. Robin had a concern, though, in the Oasis Landing population files, no descendants of his were listed, so he became obsessed that he should start having kids right away, so much so, that he got into all the trouble that gave rise to the story.

Then, you know me, I started planning and writing a plot, taking posed photos for the characters, using special saves in both Aurora Skies and Oasis Landing to stage scenes, etc. And, since I had to follow a script, my characters’ lives were kind of on pause. But… in the original Aurora Skies save, where everything started, time and life continued to pass for the Cranes and the Shens (Juliette’s family), something that doesn’t happen in my story saves, where, due to technical reasons, life takes much longer to pass.

I've tried to keep secret what happens in the original Aurora Skies' save, so as not to spoil the story, but since Time Traveler is about, well, time traveling, lol, I thought we could do a little six-year time jump from 2017 to 2023 in order to introduce the next generation (3rd actually) of the Crane dynasty. So, without further ado, I present to you the third generation of Cranes.

From left to right: Carrie, Wanda, Rowan, Jessica, and Collin. Rowan and Jessica are the oldest with 8 (real life) years; and Collin, Carrie and Wanda are 6 (real life) years old. (Yes, they're all the same height cause I don't use height sliders in order not to mess my game).

As we already know, these five kids are all Robin's children, from three different moms, which are Juliette Shen (Rowan's mom) Kaleigh Chandelace (Collin's mom) and Ann Conners (Jessi, Carrie and Wanda's mom). Despite this, they love each other as if they were full siblings, cause they all have something in common: they have the same father, and some of them, (I am not telling which ones), also share Robin's alien genes. They are currently living their lives at the fullest, learning about their alien powers and preparing to compete among themselves to be Robin's successor. Who of them will make it? I still don't know so I can't tell, and if I knew I wouldn't tell. 😉

Sorry if this post was too long, or if it seemed like a spoiler, it's just I'm so happy with how this generation turned out that I couldn't resist, and I just can't wait for them to grow so I can tell their stories. 😋

I take this opportunity to say that Time Traveler (the actual story) is not over, it will be back, though maybe not too soon. I'm currently writing the episodes of Part Three: To the Moon and Back, where we will go to Robin's rescue after his abduction by an alien ship, and where, contrary to this post, we'll go back one generation to meet Robin's long-lost parents. It's a long way to go, but eventually we'll get there, then we'll let Robin take a rest as we move on to this brand new third generation. Of course, I want to give my endless thanks to Bee @poses-by-bee, @gabrielabenacci, @anasaquasims and Rayne's Factory and for the poses. As well as to @aroundthesims, @anzuchansims, @ifcasims, @plumdrops, lillka, blakegriplingph (MTS), and sketchbook pixels for the kids' hair and clothing. Proper credits and links here below: POSES

Child Friendship Poses, Child emotion Storytelling Poses, and Child Sit Poses by Bee. Child Posepack by Gaby's Creations. Cute Kid Poses by Rayne's Factory. Child Poses Shy by Anasaquasims.

CLOTHING, HAIR AND SHOES

Jessica: Loose top with Tulle Skirt, Cute Cardigan for Girls and Shine Leggings by Lillka; T-Bar Pointy School Shoes by Blakegriplingph (MTS). Jessica's hair: Nightcrawler Deep S3 Age Conversion by Plumbdrops. Carrie: Ruffle top with Cotton Jacket by Lillka; River (Shorts) by Sketchbook Pixels; Darte 77 Vans Old Skool by Anzuchansims. Carrie's hair is N03 Thyme, also by Anzuchansims. Wanda: Zipped Hoddie 4to3 conversion by ATS3 (Around the Sims 3), Winter Shorts by Lillka, Darte 77 Vans Old Skool by Anzuchansims. Wanda's hair is Anto - Milano by IfcaSims. Rowan: Sforzinda SP42 Hoodie, Studio-K Giruto Multi Pocket Pants and Darte 77/Pixicat Old Boots, all by Anzuchansims. Rowan's hair is Wingssims ER0914 also by Anzuchansims. Collin: Darte Coat and Hoodie, Darte 77 Jeans and Darte 77/Pixicat Old Boots, all by Anzuchansims. Collin's hair is Anto Male 75 by TTS -My Bluebook

Thank you very much to you all for making my game beautiful, interesting and fun. 🤗💗

The quote at the beginning of this post, is from Electric Youth, by Debbie Gibson, one of my all-time favorite songs. 😉✨

#the sims 3 #the sims 3 gameplay #ts3 gameplay #the sims 3 into the future #time traveler #the crane legacy #the crane children #rowan crane #jessica crane #carrie crane #wanda crane #collin crane #the shens #los sims de ana #anamoon63 sims #tzr #sims 3 cc #ts3 cc #sorry for the spoiler

[kumquats-are-gay]

I require johnny fluff! (This is a stick up🔫) maybe with a reader who's sick/tired/injured etc

OH SHIT- ✋😨🤚

But YAYAYAY!! Tysm for giving me something! I wasn't super hopeful that I'd actually receive anything, but this and the other prompt I got have made me so happy :'] thank you thank you!!!

I planned on writing these as short little blurbs but ofc I went and got carried away. AGAIN. Go figure, lol. Anyway, I hope you like it! :D

(THIS WAS SUCH A CUTE IDEA BTW)

Johnny Cage x Reader (SFW)

Tags: no use of Y/N, gn!reader, sick!reader, sick fic, flirting, established relationship, directly pasted from Google Docs (forgive weird formatting), Johnny takes great care of you <3

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51606256

You had been out with Johnny on a date, enjoying each other’s company as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the pavement. Everything was perfectly fine when you guys had first left: the crisp autumn air was refreshing, and little made you happier than getting to spend time with your partner. However, whatever it was you had come down with hadn’t taken long to make itself known. About half an hour into your outing, you began to feel a little clammy. At first, you had just chalked it up to the cool weather giving you the chills, but the vertigo that checked in shortly thereafter quickly changed your mind. Like hell you were going to say anything about it, though; you didn’t want Johnny to worry. So, you bit your lip and got a grip, hoping to bear through it…until you couldn’t anymore. Mumbling a weary, “I think…I’m going to pass out,” you immediately collapsed. Johnny’s reflexes were sharp, thankfully; he reached out and grabbed you before you could hit the ground.

Johnny carries you back to the car, drives home, then carries you inside the house. All the while he’s transporting you to bed, you have your face buried in his chest, weakly groaning.

He helps you remove your damp clothes before he slips a soft t-shirt over your head, which is followed by a pair of pajama bottoms being gently pulled up your legs. You’re barely able to stand, so he lays you down in the bed, literally tucking you in as he pushes the sheets in around your body. Apparently, you had made this process rather difficult; you kept feebly tugging at his arm and whining for him “not to go”. He had to continuously reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Nooo,” you had whined, “don’ leave the bed.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately and continues fussing over you, constantly touching your forehead and repositioning the blankets. You whine again as Johnny moves away, and he’s trying very hard not to give into your pleas; he needs to go get some things so that he can properly take care of you, damn it!

You just keep making those adorable little whimpering noises, though, seemingly having given up on words, and he can’t help but pivot his head to look at you. He sees you reaching out with pitiful grabby-hands, pouting adorably, and—oh, fuck it.

Johnny relents, already making his way back to you as he asks, “What about the things you’re gonna need? Water? Advil?”

You wrap your arms and legs around him like an octopus the moment he settles in next to you. “Don’eed that; jus’ need you,” you grumble against his neck. Johnny huffs in amusement, but underneath the surface, his heart is swelling with affection. When he feels you shiver against him, he knows he won’t get anywhere if he tries to get up to grab another blanket for you. Instead, he just holds you closer and pulls the duvet further up. He runs his hands through your sweaty hair, unbothered.

“Alright, honey, try to get some rest now, alright?” he says and kisses your forehead. You don’t need to be told twice; within minutes, you’re out like a light. A smile tugs at the corner of Johnny’s mouth while he gazes down at you. It truly didn’t matter whether you were all dressed up and confidently strutting about, or if you were sweating bullets through a baggy t-shirt and whining for him to hold you—Johnny always saw you as nothing short of amazing, and he’d take care of you for as long as you needed, any time you needed.

~~~

Barely a week had passed since you had first fallen ill. You had nearly made a full recovery by this point and you were feeling like a brand new person. It was in no small thanks to your boyfriend, Johnny, who tended to you every step of the way. Nothing was too big of an ask for him, though you tried not to be a bother if you could help it. He insisted that you weren’t, though, which made you feel a bit better about it.

The only times he left your side were when you really needed something. Otherwise, he was just as glued to you as you were to him, calling into work and everything to ensure that he could be there for you around the clock.

You sighed and smiled at his sleeping figure—his hair was sticking out this way and that, and the bedhead alone was enough to make you giggle. This slightly roused him from his sleep, causing him to mumble something incoherent as he pulled you against him. Your smile only grew; he was so goddamn cute. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” you whispered.

Johnny shakes his head and mumbles, “Nah, you’re good.” He pulls you even closer and releases a long, tired exhale. Unable to help yourself, you reach out to scratch at his scalp which elicits a pleased hum from your boyfriend. “Y’know, I think I might be getting sick,” he suddenly claims. You frown and immediately move the hand in his hair to his forehead, which causes him to grouse in disappointment. Your brow furrowed in confusion; he was slightly warmer than usual, but you wouldn’t call it a fever.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him quizzically. He lazily grabs your hand and drags it back to his scalp. You take the hint and continue the task of brushing your fingers soothingly through his sandy locks.

Johnny practically purred at the sensation. The pleasurable feeling of your nails lightly dragging across his skull caused him to slur his words a bit. “Hmm, yeah,” he spoke through the haze, “real sick, but I heard a kiss c’n make you feel a lot better…”

Understanding his game now, you asked him in a tone dripping with suspicion, “Oh, really? That so?” Johnny just answered with an unconvincing ‘mmmmm-hm’ as he continued to revel in your touch. “Alright,” you acquiesced, and pressed your lips to his forehead. “Feel any better?”

“Hmm, I think I need another one for the effects to kick in,” he idly insisted. You could hear the smile in his voice, though, a clear indication that he was obviously bullshitting. You continued to entertain him anyway by giving him another kiss, this time on his cheek.

“How about now?” you pressed, though you already knew the answer.

“One more should do the trick,” he lilted, the cheeky bastard. You outright laughed this time before moving in for the final kiss. Johnny lifted his head at the last moment, surprising you a bit as he captured your mouth with his own this time. The two of you became entangled in an impromptu makeout session as you lost yourselves to each other. That is until Johnny suddenly pushed you away so he could cough into his elbow. He sounded like he was hacking up a lung. The heat that was beginning to gather in your body immediately fizzled out as worry swiftly took its place.

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked with genuine concern. He held up his index finger as if to say ‘one moment’ while he finished his coughing fit. At the end, he took a deep breath and pressed his palm to his forehead as his face twisted into a grimace.

“Ah, fuck…” Johnny sighed before he flopped back onto the mattress. “Okay, nevermind—I think I might actually be sick.”

You shook your head fondly. “Well, it’s a good thing you have me then, huh?”

Johnny smiles up at you in earnest and reaches for the hand that had long since stopped its ministrations, but he just holds it in his own this time. “I couldn’t be luckier.”

#I know you only requested sick!reader but I couldn't help but throw in a little bit of sick!Johnny at the end there 😳 #I hope it's okay! #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x y/n #mk1 #mortal kombat #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #I'M SO HYPE TO DO THE OTHER ASK I GOT TOO #it's the ONLY other one BUT STILL

[xxsabitoxx]

Good Girl

Fed up Giyu x Bratty fem! Reader

Warnings: public sex, outdoor sex, rough sex, name calling, degrading, face fucking, hand riding, dirty talk, hate sex, humiliation, descriptions of masturbating, drooling, cum swallowing, breeding, creampies, possessive giyu, semi-forced breeding. I think that’s most of it

A/N: it’s been forever since I posted a fic ;—; I also need to desperately update my Masterlist so plz bear with me. I’m also hoping there are no major spelling errors lol, I’m typing fast when I write these. Also grammar? Don’t comment on it if it’s bad 😐

Anyways here is some Giyu filth :)

Word count: 4.2k exactly. Pretty proud of that

“You think you are so fucking clever, don’t you?” Your chest was squished into one of the exterior walls of the butterfly estate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tomioka.” You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his chest was pressed into your back pushing even further into the wall. “Stop playing stupid, you’ve been a little fucking whore all day.” You gasped, a smug smile creeping up your features. “What vulgar language! That’s no way to speak to a lady, Tomioka.”

You felt something hard pressing into your ass, butterflies turning into a frenzy when you realized it had totally worked. “You feel it? All because you want to go around teasing me in front of everyone. I mean really y/n, wearing a short little skirt? How fucking immature of you.” You snorted, wiggling your hips against this evident arousal. “Shameful isn't it, Tomioka? The fact that you got so turned on by it? You say I’m immature for pulling such stunts…yet here you are trying to dry hump me like some bitch in heat.”

He groaned, the hands gripping your waist tightened significantly. “You know I’m right!” You laughed harshly, the throb between your legs was becoming more and more persistent. “Shut the fuck up.” He caught you off guard, hands flipping you over and slamming you back against the wall. He left no room between your bodies, one hand coming up to plant itself firmly over your lips. “I’m going to teach you how to fucking behave.” Your eyes widened a bit, smiling against his hand.

“Let’s discuss what you did today Hmm?” Giyu pressed you even further into the wall, the wood beginning to bite into your shoulders. The position was suffocated, with your body completely sandwiched between Giyu and the wall you couldn’t move. “Let's start with what you chose to wear. You always go for uniform pants, yet today you chose a skirt. Not only did you choose a skirt, you hiked that skirt so far up that you were one gust of wind away from showing the world your pussy.” You stiffened, teeth clenching significantly.

“Though I bet you would have liked that, huh? Showing off your cunt like it’s a fine piece of jewelry. You’d let anyone stuff themselves in there and get their fill, wouldn't you little whore?” You made a squealing noise, almost completely muffled by Giyu’s hand. Maybe you had taken things too far. “Don’t act like I didn’t see you feeling Shinazugawa up. Oh he was fucking eating it up too. Just watching you flaunt yourself around in front of him makes my fucking blood boil.” Your hands remained by your side, too awestruck to try and defy Giyu.

His free hand moved freely, drawing his hips back just enough that he could slip between the two of you. “Tell me, do you fantasize about Shinazugawa? I bet you’d let him fuck your cunt like the world was ending tomorrow. You’d let him fill you up over and over again with his cum. Maybe you’d even hope to carry his babies…” Giyu trailed off, hand still firmly placed over your mouth. You stared at him wide eyed, eagerly awaiting his next move. “How about Rengoku? You sure seemed friendly with him too. He likes to act so high and mighty, oh so innocent.” Giyu’s hand cupped your panty covered sex, groaning at the heat radiating from between your legs.

“You should have seen him, you barely left anything to the imagination. Even Tengen was eating you up, as if the bastard doesn’t have three wives to satisfy his needs.” The heel of Giyu’s palm began rubbing rough circles. Not really aiming for your clit, he just wanted to hear the slick noises you were already beginning to make. “Listen to that, what an attention whore. I bet you’d fucking strip naked and fuck yourself with your own fingers if they asked you too.” A harsh laugh left him as he felt your cunt contract and twitch, you were loving this. “You’re so fucked up.” The grin on his face was cold, palm digger deeper and making you yelp into his hand.

“You’re imagining it, aren’t you?” His voice had dropped an octave, his volume lowering with it. You nodded shamelessly, the idea of getting off in front of the other pillar men had you giddy. Especially since you knew it pissed Giyu off to no end. “Tell me…” he lifted his hand off your mouth. “What would you do? Describe it for me…” the hand that had been on your mouth hand lowered to your breast. “What I’d do? Y-you want me to describe how I’d fuck myself?” He nodded, squeezing the tender flesh and liking the way you stuttered. “And I’m the fucked up one…” you were breathless as he stopped palming you. Instead his hand moved to slip under the waistband of your panties, making contact with bare flesh.

“Oh~” you swallowed thickly, trying to compose yourself enough to speak. “I’d probably start with a strip tease, but only my top. I’d want them to see my bare breasts fall from my binding. See the way my nipples would harden from the cool air and my own hormones.” Two fingers slipped between slick folds, easily finding your clit and pinching. “Keep going, little slut. Be a good girl for me and continue.” Your eyes fluttered, cheeks growing hot as Giyu found a balance between rubbing and pinching your clit. “I’d play with my tits…In the way they wish they could. Squeezing them, pinching my own nipples, moaning their names…”

The idea of Tengen, Sanemi and Kyojuro watching you play with yourself had you clenching around nothing at all. “Keep going.” Giyu’s hips were restless, you could tell part of him wanted to abandon your breast and palm himself. So you did him a favor, hand tugging at his belt. “I’d tease myself until I was dripping…willing to grind on anything that would relieve the ache I felt.” You got the belt undone with the help of your other hand, to your surprise, Giyu allowed you to toss the material to the side. You didn’t hesitate shoving your hand under the waistband of his uniform pants, making contact with his throbbing cock. “You aren’t wearing…” he cut you off by pinching your clit harshly, earning a gasp.

“Continue.” You swallowed, hand struggling to pump him in the confines of his pants. “I-I need your opinion for this one…” you gasped as he moved quicker, fingers moving in perfect rhythm. “D-do you think it w-would be better to strip completely? O-or should I tease them by sp-spreading my legs and pushing my panties aside?” Giyu’s hand nearly stopped, a whine leaving your lips as you realized he was trying to visualize it. “I’d take them off, I’m sure they’d love to see your pretty, wet cunt on full display.” You nodded, eyes shutting as you realized you were nearing your end. He had barely done anything, how embarrassing.

“S-so I’d strip tease again, maybe bend all the w-way over and drag my panties down nice and s-slow.” Giyu could feel you twitch, you were close. “What would you do next?” He groaned softly as your hand tightened considerably around his length. He wished you’d just take a second and undo the button, letting them fall to his thighs and freeing his aching cock. But clearly he only had you occupied for a bit longer, so he could wait. “I-I’d sit down facing them, spread my legs wide and get comfortable.” You whined, your climax was almost in your reach. “T-then I’d start t-to tease myself.” Giyu smirked, “Go into detail or you won’t reach your orgasm.”

You gasped, “I’d start b-by dipping two fingers inside…just to get them nice and slick.” You couldn’t be bothered to care about what choice of words you picked, not when you were this close to coming in his hand. “Yeah? Tell me what you’d do next little slut.” You whined, grinding your hips down on his fingers. “I’d start playing with my clit…I’d rub like you are right now~” your head fell back against the wall, shaky gasps leaving you as your orgasm washed over you. “Oh? That’s it, cum all over my hand, make a fucking mess. Good girl.” You squealed at his sudden praise, hips jerking as his hand never slowed. “How fucking filthy, I can feel you coming.”

Giyu’s fingers finally slowed when your hips stopped jerking, instead rubbing slow languid circles over the sensitive skin. “I never said you could stop talking.” You blinked, trying to gather your thoughts and figure out where you had left off. “I-I…I’d…” you stuttered over yourself, not even sure how to continue. “You said you’d play with yourself, rub your clit for them, right? So what would you do next?” Giyu’s fingers left your clit, sliding further down until he was met with your slippery entrance. He used his thigh to spread your legs further. The hand squeezing your breast moved to start undoing the buttons of your top. “I’d…probably start playing with my…my breasts…” as each button popped open, your breathing picked up. “Hmm? What would you do to your breasts?”

Giyu’s hand pressed, not entering you but creating pressure. His leg spread you even further. This wasn’t exactly his ideal location to take out his annoyance with you, but he’d have to make do. “I-I’d squeeze them…” you were starting to get embarrassed, how ironic. “Mmm? That it? Not much of a show.” His finger pulled away, a desperate whine leaving your lips. “T-tomioka please…” your hips shamelessly attempted to chase after his retreating fingers. “A little slut like you, doesn’t deserve to get their way. If anything, I gave you too much already. You came once, which was more than I intended to give you. I mean you could barely pump my cock. You should be on your knees making it up to me.”

Giyu seemed to ponder his own words for a moment, a smile creeping up his face. “Better yet…” his hands left your body where you wanted them most, shifting to your shoulders instead. Without another word, he pushed you down, forcing you to your knees. “Get to work, and maybe I’ll think about giving you more.” It was a sight to behold, the smirk on his smug, flushed face had you forgetting about everything else. Giyu watched you for a moment as you tugged the rest of your buttons open, shouldering off your uniform top. Your hands fumbled with the button of his pants, tugging the garment down to his mid thigh and exposing his cock. You were tempted to make another comment about his lack of underwear.

You chose not to, swallowing thickly as you took in his size. If you pleased him enough, you’d get to feel it. You whined, clenching around nothing at the very thought of him being inside of you. “Go ahead.” You were slightly sad he didn’t make a comment about your lack of a binding. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He somehow picked up on your disappointment and managed to fix it. You needed no further encouragement, hand wrapping firmly around his base and giving it a few harsh tugs. “Fuck…” his voice was strained, you forced yourself to be a little more gentle. “That’s it, good girl. Just like that.” Giyu cooed, watching you make slow pumps from base to tip. Your other hand came up and wrapped around him as well, both hands covered more ground. And, well, you could tell Giyu liked seeing how big he looked between both of your hands.

“Use your mouth.” You whimpered at the command, opening your mouth slowly and moving your head forward. Your tongue stuck out slowly, ghosting the bottom of his head. One of Giyu’s hands pressed to the wall, supporting his weight as he shifted his hips further. The motion was an attempt to coax you to take more, he was being gentle and giving you a chance. You took his tip into your mouth, tongue lavishing the irritated skin. “There we go…” his other hand came down to grab a fist full of your hair, tugging you harshly to take even more. You forced your jaw to relax, one hand remaining wrapped around his base while you let the other fall to your lap. “There we go, choke on it” He pushed further, nearly half his length was in your mouth.

“Choke on it.” He repeated, mouth parted as he jerked forward. You gagged the moment he hit the back of your throat, eyes watering nearly instantly. It took everything in you to relax your throat, tears slipping down your cheeks as you let him use you. Without much more warning, Giyu began thrusting steadily. He was heavy on your tongue but surprisingly smooth. “I-fuck-” You looked up at him through wet lashes. It was the most you could do to acknowledge him in that moment. The sight only made him move quicker, his orgasm was building in record time. Giyu had absolutely no intentions of holding back, he’d cum when he pleased. He was even tempted to leave you hanging once he got his release, but you looked so pretty with tears streaking your cheeks.

You did your best to stay relaxed, eventually you’d stop flinching when he hit the back of your throat. You could only begin to imagine what this must look like from an outsider's perspective. You could feel your own tears and drool leaking onto your exposed breasts. You were bare from the waist up, he was bare from the waist down. Part of you wished you could see this from an outsider perspective, the picture forming in your head had your throat constricting around him. “Shit.” You didn’t intend to, but the pressure had Giyu’s eyes losing focus. The sight from your view down below was quite encouraging. You tried hollowing your cheeks, eyes focused on his face as his hips stuttered. “Stop t-that.” He gripped your hair tighter than before.

You didn’t, if your mouth wasn’t occupied you would have smirked at him. Instead you swallowed around him, surprised he was keeping his cock buried in your throat instead of pulling out. Maybe he was going to cum just like that, shoot his load straight down your throat and force you to swallow it. You didn’t care that you could barely breathe, the lack of airflow only made your desire grow. Slowly both hands came up to cup his balls, watching in curiosity as his whole body stiffened. Giyu didn’t have the strength to even give a half assed “stop.” Instead he allowed you to continue, he’d get to cum either way. You remembered hearing that men supposedly liked the feeling as long as you were gentle. As annoying as he could be, you didn’t want to hurt him.

It didn’t take much more after that, his legs nearly buckling as his release spurted out of him. You choked slightly, trying to relax your throat again as he came. Whines left his lips at a pitch he would have found embarrassing had he not felt so good. As he came down you realised how flushed his face was. “Fuck.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his softening cock out of your mouth while shouldering off his haori. “Are you satisfied now?” You watched his eyes roll, fingers easily undoing the buttons of his uniform top. “You are acting really bold for someone covered in their own tears and drool.” The last button was undone, his uniform parted to show his toned torso. Yet he didn’t take it off completely.

“Oh, bite me.” You stood on shaky legs, you half expected the whole exchange to be over. “Where do you think you’re going?” Giyu watched as you reached to put your top back on. “Aren’t we done here?” You suppress a smile, even after all of that you couldn’t give him a break. “No the fuck we aren’t.” You watched him step out of his pants the rest of the way, blue eyes scanning the area to confirm no one was present. “So you’re going to fuck me right here?” His uniform top came off, now he was fully exposed to any wandering eyes. You still clung to some of your dignity with your skirt shielding you. Instead of talking, he stepped closer, making you step back until you were back to square one. Once again you found yourself sandwiched between him and the exterior wall of the butterfly estate.

This time it hurt, bare skin was digging into the rough wood behind you. “I’m not finished with you, we still have some things to discuss.” His bare thigh was easily parting your own again, the pulsing returned, the ache had craving to feel him. “Like what? I thought we went over the fact that I’d willing fuck my self for Shinazugawa…Rengoku…Tengen…” his thigh lifted, pressing directly to your cunt. “Shut up and let me finish.” You we’re hot against his bare skin, his cock was already twitching back to life. “Since you started boring me with how you’d fuck yourself, tell me what you think they are like.” You blinked, not quite understanding. “Tell me how big you think they are, how good you think they’d fuck you compared to me.” For some reason, he seemed to enjoy you making him mad.

“Oh? Who should I start with.” You spread your legs wider for him, one hand braced on the wall behind you while his other reached for your skirt. “Uzui, or should I say, Tengen. Since you two seem to be on a first name basis.” You smiled as he picked up on it, hand flipping your skirt up in the process. “Oh I know Tengen is quite large.” You pretended to not care as he easily pulled your panties down, fully exposing your cunt. You didn’t have that much courage to forgo panties with your skirt so short. “You know?” Two fingers slid between slick folds, bypassing your clit and going straight to your entrance. He was going to try and break your composure again. “Oh of c-course I know.” His fingers slipped in, stretching you. “I talk to his wives all the time, they even invited me to join them once.” His fingers curled inside, ghosting your g-spot.

The hand bracing against the wall slipped away. Instead he wrapped it around his half hard cock, pumping it in time with his fingers thrusting. “Oh? You declined? How come.” Your head fell back, your fingers twitching as you grabbed for his open uniform. “C-cause I didn’t want him to ruin me before I could try the others. A cock like h-his has to be addicting.” Giyu’s fingers curled harshly, a cry leaving your lips as he watched you. He was nearly fully hard again, jaw clenched tight after an answer like that. “What about Rengoku? How do you think he is?” You didn’t get to finish talking about Tengen. “I’m not done talking about Tengen yet, I’ll move onto Kyojuro when I’m ready.” First name, same reaction.

This, however, seemed to break Giyu. His fingers left you abruptly, earning a gasp in response to the empty feeling. “I’ve had just about enough of your smart mouth.” You were stunned, “weren’t you the one that asked for this?” You gasped again as one of your legs was forcefully lifted. “I don’t care anymore.” Maybe he didn’t like it as much as you assumed. Giyu’s hand was gripping firmly under your knee, pushing it back until you nearly cried out in pain. The position was certainly awkward, your knee was nearly hitting the wall. All of this so he had easy access to your cunt. “W-why don’t we try a…” you wanted to suggest a different position. Instead you were cut off by the head of his cock pressing between your folds.

“Shut up and take it.” For once, you did as you were told. His hand guided him in, the dull head of his cock spread your walls open as entered you. “Oh…” the stretch burned due to little prep, but it subsided as quickly as it began. “So, tell me, how about Rengoku?” He was still doing this? Your head felt cloudy, you were absolutely stuffed and the awkward position isn't helping. “K-Kyojuro?” O-oh…he…” Giyu gave you no time to adjust, he was pulling his hips back just to slam forward again. “He-he’s probably a bit… smaller than Tengen…but he knows what he’s doing…” you were nearly tearing his uniform top with how tightly you gripped it. Giyu clicked his tongue, eyes trailing over your face before falling to where he was disappearing inside of you. “You better have something more interesting to say ab-about Shinazugawa.” His voice caught, he was more sensitive than he thought from his previous orgasm.

“I-oh fuck…” your head fell back, breasts bouncing with each thrust. Thinking about Sanemi made you clench tightly around Giyu, he groaned out of annoyance. “Go on, tell me all your fantasies about the bastard.” Your walls were fluttering around him, you could already feel your second release building. “Oh..fuck Shinazugawa…” you chose not to use his first name for the sake of your cervix. “He—he isn’t as big as Tengen either. But he knows how to use every fucking inch…” you held your breath, Giyu may honestly break you for what you were about to say. “I-ah fuck… he is so good in bed…had me screaming for hours.” Giyu’s hips faltered, eyes snapping to meet yours. “What was that?” He buried deep, head pressing to your cervix so harshly you were trying to ease the pressure by standing on your tiptoes.

“He-he had me screaming… oh fuck he was so good. It was…just to relieve some stress…though I wouldn’t mind doing it again….” Giyu’s grip was bruising, the hand he had used to guide himself was now coming up to wrap around your throat. “You fucked, Shinazugawa?” You nodded, eyes half lidded as his grip tightened. “S-sure did.” Giyu’s hips started moving with more vigor this time, a high pitched moan escaping you. Your back was digging further into the wall, you’d certainly feel the ache afterwards. “Why’d you fuck him?” You were clenching harshly, orgasm building up but dangling just out of your reach. “We w-were stressed…and a b-bit drunk…” your hands left his uniform, instead they wrapped around hos wrist. Practically holding the hand around your neck in place. “Hmm, so that’s all it takes to get you in bed.” You let out a harsh laugh as you finally came.

Your walls clenched tightly around him, whole body jerking as Giyu’s hips didn’t slow on pace. Anger was radiating off of him, his thrusts had become so erratic that you were beginning to lose feeling in the leg still planted on the ground. “G-giyu…” your words were slurred, whole body feeling heavy as he chased his own high for a second time. “Shut up.” There was still venom dripping from his tone, the hand on your neck was still tight. Truthfully it felt like it was the only thing really keeping you up. “You are going to take every single drop of this and fucking appreciate it. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even try and fantasize about another man.” You nodded half heartedly, you’d agree to anything so long as he didn’t stop.

A few more thrusts and he was done for, hot seed spilling between your walls. Silence fell over the both of you, faces sweaty and chests heaving. Giyu’s grip loosened slowly, his other hand gently set your leg down. Much to your surprise, he still supported you by wrapping a hand around your waist. You really couldn’t feel your legs. “Let me help.” He muttered softly, guiding the both of you to the ground as he reached for your uniform top. You pushed your skirt back down, not bothering to look for your discarded panties. “We should do this again.” You reached up to shakily button your top, missing Giyu’s presence as he stood to pull his pants up. “I’d rather do it in a more conventional place. Perhaps my bed.” He tried to be nonchalant, but a blush was creeping up his face.

“Out of everything you just did and made me say, that got you to blush?” You 're still sitting on the ground, wondering how long it would take for feeling to return to your limbs. “Shut it, smart mouth.” He was putting his haori back on, the top buttons of his uniform still hung open. “I’ll think about it if you carry me to your bed.” You batted your eyes, a cheeky grin creeping up your cheeks. “That’s a far walk.” He was bending down to scoop you up anyways. “You’ll survive, big boy.” He sighed, shaking his head as he began to walk.

“I shouldn't have called you a good girl. You are nothing but a brat.”

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer smut #hashira #tomioka giyuu #kimetsu no yaiba smut #tomioka giyu smut #giyu smut #tomioka giyu x reader #giyu x you #giyu x y/n #giyu x reader #tomioka x you #tomioka x reader #tomioka x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba giyuu #xxsabitoxx’s work!