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eilidh-eternal · 2 months

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You don't like silence

Part of the Metanoia series | Part 1 | Masterlist |

The house is silent, but inside your head a brumous storm swirls, wispy tendrils of fog curling around delicate gray matter.

Your routine—watching Johnny walk Isobel to school, going to work and coming home, just in time to glimpse Johnny leaving to retrieve her—has changed.

You still watch from the window, mug bleeding warmth into cold, stiff joints from between your palms. Peer around the curtains every morning as the pair amble down the pavement together.

A new month brings a steady influx of meetings and end of quarter reporting, projected sales and last minute production tweaks, but your days are no busier than normal. Rarely miss a lunch break. Leave no later than three each afternoon.

Dinner, if you have any, is ready by five.

Even so, restlessness lingers in the midnight moons hanging beneath your eyes, darkens the air around you with somnolent clouds, and you list in the torpid deluge that rains down.

Sleep evades you altogether most nights, and you’ve made a game of picking out patterns in the knockdown. Faces, animals; nebulous, nameless things.

Some nights, when the faces of strangers, burned into your retinas, find their way into the patterns of textured drywall, you listen.

Isobels room must be on the other side of yours, beds sharing a wall. On the nights you manage to make it upstairs, you can hear them both. Isobel’s slow and measured pronunciations. The lilt of Johnny’s voice, filling in the blanks where she pauses on a word she doesn’t yet know.

They’ve finished all of her animal books, which means the imitated roars of big cats and bleats of farmyard animals have morphed into exaggerated accents. Sing-song rhymes about the importance of kindness, accepting differences, and other life lessons told through colorful illustrations and whimsical narratives.

Every now and then, if you’re lucky, she falls asleep within a few pages, and you can pretend that the low, pillowy rumble of Johnny reading is just for you. A gentle coaxing made of velvety words, swaddling your mind, heavy with exhaustion, and cradling it to his chest against the maelstrom you’re spiraling in.

Sometimes she stirs, woken hours later in the placid, milky hours before dawn, just as your eyes begin to droop. Tiny feet patter across the hardwood like rain, muffled in uneven intervals by what must be a rug or runner in the hall, on her way to Johnny’s room or the washroom maybe.

You wonder if it’s full of frilly, feminine things, her room. Pinks and purples, dolls and plushies. Does she have princesses or ballerinas on her bedding? Do posters and drawings line her walls or does floral, pasted wallpaper?

She likes Mulan, you remember. A warrior. Fighter. Soldier. Like Johnny.

Probably not so frilly, then.

Perhaps they could make a fighter out of you. Press you into the mold of their little family–strengthened by loss and galvanized with love–and breathe life into clay limbs. Carve a soldier from the malleable earth. Shape you into something useful.

Now, most of your nights are spent huddled in the living room, listening to the droning of the television. Throw blankets suck you down into the sofa like quicksand and each breath draws them tighter and tighter around you, filling pockets of air with crushed velvet and fleece. Tonight, you let them swallow you whole. Sink willingly into a latibule of plaid and warm cashmere.

The cold and quiet of your empty home isn’t so bad when you can hear Johnny moving about on the other side of the wall. Isn’t so unbearable when the warm timbre of his voice chases away the numbing fog that muddles your head.

There are nights that he calls you, like he knows. Knows that you're drowning in the silence.

He does that now, after he puts Isobel to bed for the night. Calls to ask about your week. Casts a lifeline into the churning ocean between you, procellous waves lofting you on spuming peaks, and calls your name from the battered, broken shore.

A lighthouse calling to a ship, lost in the mist on a perilous sea.

Last Thursday he asked about the cookies you made with Isobel. Asked if you would be willing to share the recipe with him–teach him–so that he could make them with her for a school event coming up in the spring.

The tenderness with which he speaks of her is a balmy breeze for your gelid heart. Soothes the burn of ice floes in your veins. Melts weeks of tension from aching muscles.

Now, his voice is somber, pensive, as it filters through the lack of insulation between you. “Friday. No, ah havnae told ‘er yet. Jus’ got the call.” He pauses, and you think you hear a muffled sigh. He sounds tired, too, accent thicker than honeyed whiskey rolling off his tongue, dropping consonants in favor of deep, throaty vowels. “Aye, ah ken. She’ll be happy tae see ye though.”

He’s on the phone, talking about Isobel. They must have family visiting soon, or a family friend if Isobel knows them well enough to be excited.

You wonder what the MacTavish family is like, if they’re a rowdy bunch. If they’re a large, extended family. Johnny seems like the kind of man who comes from a close knit community, one where you grow up down the street from your cousins and spend summers terrorizing small towns together.

“I’ll talk tae ‘er in the mornin’. Ah- No.” There’s a pause again, and even with layers of sheetrock separating you, you can feel the weight of his silence. “No, Mam. She’s… ah worry. Leavin’ ‘er like this. Piss poor timin’.”

He’s leaving? Without Isobel?

It’s muffled through the wall, and you feel like you can’t have heard that correctly. He mentioned the army, but you had thought, with a child at home, that his work wouldn't be the sort that requires travel.

Ice floes turn to glaciers in your chest, frozen spikes threatening to pierce brittle, fragile muscle, and the clouds swirling overhead descend upon you.

Lost in the mist, and he’s leaving.

He’s leaving, and he’s taking the sun with him.

“Ye cannae keep it from the lassie forever, John. Ye havnae even told 'er what ye do?”

Christ, this woman…

“She knows ‘bout the army,” he defends. “Cannae say much more.”

Fenella MacTavish clucks her disapproval. “Ye’re heids full of mince.” Dishes clatter and a cupboard closes a bit too forcefully on the other end of the line.

Johnny runs a hand through the disheveled strands of his hair, overdue for a trim, well outside of regulation length. “Mam—”

“Dinnae ‘Mam’ me,” she cuts in. “John Alexander MacTavish, ye tell that lass what she’s gettin’ herself intae—or I will.”

“Mam,” he tries again, voice pitched low, “Not yet. Cannae send ‘er off, naw like I do wi’ Bell. It’s safe enough here.” You’re safe with him here. “Dinnae like knowin’ she’s alone—Christ, I can hardly stand tae have the wall between us when I ken she’s hurtin’—but there isnae anythin’ I can do that’s naw already been done. Kate’s made sure of that.”

Fenella huffs and he can’t quite make out the garbled muttering on his end, but he has a fair idea of what his mother is blathering about beneath her breath. “Kirsten—have ye gone tae see 'er?” she finally asks, mercifully shifting the conversation out of your direction. “Has Isobel?”

“No,” he admits, and guilt twists in barbed coils through his chest.

He’s been meaning to, to drive up for the weekend and take her to visit her mothers grave, now that she’s older. Stay with her gran and look through the old albums. She's only ever seen the few photos they have at home, hanging in the hall near the kitchen.

Sometimes she asks about her. If she liked the things she likes. The way rain freezes on the tall grasses and tree branches in the winter, making glass gardens of trellises and window boxes. Extra whipped cream and blueberries for her pancakes.

If she would have walked with them to school in the mornings. Take her to the park down the block in the summer. Hiking in the fall, looking for wisps darting about beneath the fallen abscission.

Isobel is so much like her mother there are days Johnny swears it’s her refusing to eat the dinner he’s made. That it’s her complaining about cold weather and overcast skies in the heart of winter, bemoaning how long they have until spring revives the land. Swears it’s her voice that wakes him in the middle of the night. Her ghost, standing in the dimly lit doorway of his bedroom, a blanket pulled ‘round her shoulders and a teddy dangling from her hand.

“I’ll take ‘er, then.” Johnny can hear the grief that tempers his mothers voice, turning anguish to steely resolve. “I’ll come by tomorrow evening, let ‘er have a few hours with ye at home before ye say yer goodbyes.”

“Thank ye, Mam,” he says on a strained exhale, lungs rattling with fragments of his own grief. It slices into old wounds until pockets of air become sanguineous aquifers, bubbling up in his throat and leaving a sour, metallic taste on his tongue.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she reminds him. “Ye tell yer lass. Dinnae leave ‘er in the dark like ye did Kirsten.”

The line goes silent and Johnny sinks back into the old corduroy sofa, pushed up against the wall beside a shelf overflowing with picture books in the living room, and a ragged sigh unfurls from his chest.

The television across from him is dark, turned off when he took Isobel upstairs for bed, but he can hear an old rerun of Taskmaster playing softly behind him.

He listens, every night, for you. For the sound of your fridge, opening and closing. The soft ‘clink’ of porcelain against granite. The oven timer or the microwave.

He prefers the former. Knows, after these last few weeks, that you cook when you’re in a good mood. Usually go to bed soon after. The sound of the microwave precedes long, muted evenings and little sound from your side of the wall. He won’t hear the stairs creak beneath your sluggish feet until the wee hours of the morning. If at all.

He listens in the mornings, too, while he makes Isobel’s breakfast. Makes sure he can hear you doing the same. Smiles to himself when he glimpses movement in the window beside your door, a miniscule swaying of the curtain, and he holds Isobel’s hand a little tighter as they navigate lingering ice patches on the pavement.

The phone call with his mother, making arrangements for Isobel, masked the sound of your movements earlier, and his fingers twitch against his leather phone case.

When your side of the wall is quiet, he knows a storm is brewing; that you’re sitting in the eye of it, waiting for the walls to close in around you.

He doesn’t know if you’ve eaten tonight. Can’t hear anything beyond the muffled television and occasional creak of the sofa beneath your shifting weight.

So he calls.

One… two… three… four… “Hi, Johnny.” Soft and breathy. Like the air the words are spoken on has borrowed from the softness of your lips as it spills into the receiver.

This is the way you sound when you’re tired, he’s learned, all soft and rounded syllables. Too exhausted, even for your own nervous habits. You don’t have the bandwidth to explain every little thing like you normally would; don’t bother with rationalizing your actions aloud.

“Hi, bonnie. What’s cookin’?” It’s cheesy as hell, but it earns a huff of a laugh from you and it tempers the jagged edge of his worry—a knife, lodged between his ribs.

“I, uh… I had leftovers. Takeaway, from a work thing.” He’s never seen you with takeaway. Always canvas bags full of groceries and the occasional frozen box dinner.

How empty is your fridge? When was the last time you went to the grocer?

“Didnae take ye for the ‘easy’ type. Ye always make me work for it.”

“Work for it?” He can picture the pinch of your brows. The way your lips quirk to the side when you’re confused.

“Aye, got me makin’ puppy eyes an’ beggin’ for yer scraps.” You laugh again, more of a scoff, but it eases some of his worry all the same.

“When have I ever made you beg, Johnny?” He’s been begging any higher power that will listen to see you smile again, and he’d give anything to see the smirk he knows is dancing at the corner of your mouth right now.

“Could do it tomorrow,” he blurts before he can think better of it. “Come over. Show me that recipe again.”

Don’t make him tell you he’s leaving over the phone.

“I thought… you said the charity event is at the end of March, right?”

“Aye, but I think I’ll need a few lessons ‘fore my bakin’s fit for auction.”

He needs to know—needs to see—that you’re well before he goes.

“And you want to start tomorrow?”

“Why not?” He’d have you baking in his kitchen now if it weren’t for the late hour.

There’s a stretch of silence, interrupted only by the faint crackling of static and the sound of your breathing. “Do you have flour? Sugar? Anything to bake with?” you ask, and he answers with a proud ‘yes’. “Okay… okay. I can come over after work tomorrow.”

“I’ll ‘ave Bell home early then. She’ll want tae help.” Your amused sigh echoes across the line, followed by the faint rustling of fabric and then the soft pattering of stocking-clad feet over hardwood, fourth and fifth step creaking softly as you climb the stairs. “Off tae bed?”

Another sigh–on the tail-end of a yawn, he realizes. “Yeah. Well, trying. Don’t get a lot of sleep these days,” you admit, and though he’s successfully abated the storm of your thoughts, he wishes he could disperse it entirely.

Be the shelter you seek, at the very least.

He’d nestle you in the warmth of his bed, tucked close and sleeping soundly in the cage of his arms. Anchor you to him with a leg hooked between yours, whispering adulation against the howling, taunting winds.

He would make himself a rock to let your tempestuous thoughts batter and besiege. Weathered and whittled down to pebbles on a beach, he’d roll in the undertow alongside you. And when he is but sand on the ocean floor, still, he would drift and settle wherever the storm of you takes him.

“I used tae read for my sister when we were weans. She’d wake, spooked from a dream, and come tae my room in the middle of the night.”

“You have a sister?” A door clicks closed and blankets whisper over sheets as you settle in for the night. “What’s she like?”

“A lot like our Mam. Headstrong. Stubborn.”

“Are you the oldest?” You sound further away. Muffled. Like you’ve got the blankets pulled up to your nose and the phone beside you on the pillow.

“I am,” he lilts.

“She gets it from you, then,” you murmur, and his chest tightens.

“She got a fair number of things from me, I’d wager.”

He continues on, speaking just above a low, gravelly whisper. Reminiscing his early years and the trouble the two of them got up to. Thick as thieves and wild as the kellas cats roaming the highlands.

Your interjections dwindle, turn to soft hums and slow, even breaths. Sleeping.

He listens for a few more minutes to the soft, sweet sounds you make, little chuffs and sleepy hums, the susurrations of shifting sheets and nightclothes, and he whispers into the darkness, “Goodnight, sweet girl.”

Work passes you by in a blur, meeting after meeting chipping away at the hours and minutes ticking by on the analog clock perched on your desk.

The drive home is uneventful and it feels as though you’ve passed through a wormhole somewhere along the way. Can’t quite remember making the turn into your neighborhood from the main road.

Normally, Johnny would be leaving to retrieve Isobel from school right now, but as you gather your things and step out of the car you hear your name being called from several houses down.

Braids bounce and red wellies squeak as Isobel darts ahead of Johnny, weaving around patches of ice to get to you, and you step up onto the pavement just in time to keep her from running into the road.

She barrels into you, wrapping her arms around your leg and smooshing her face against your slacks. “Ye’re back!” she squeals, fingers curling into the fabric.

She’s leaving.

Your hand settles atop her head, soft wisps of curls tickling the pads of your fingers where they’ve escaped their plaits. “Where did I go?” you ask, and she tips her head back to look up at you.

“Bubby said ye were busy with work. Sometimes he gets busy too, and I have to stay with my gran.”

They’re both leaving.

Johnny’s caught up with her, lingering a few steps away near the walkway leading to your door. When you look to where he stands, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, windbreaker bunched up around his forearms where a tattoo peeks out, the corners of his eyes glimmer.

A smile curves the corners of his mouth, and it’s an odd mixture of grief and happiness that flickers there in the crook of his lips and set of his brow, sloped upwards and creased in the middle. His hair is longer than you remember, scruffy sides and tufts of mohawk curling at the ends, loose strands tousled around his face.

Wind blows at your back and a single tear tracks down the sharp plane of his cheek, disappearing in the dark shadow of stubble that lines his jaw.

“I have been busy with work,” you confirm, peering down at Isobel once more. “But I didn’t leave.”

You’re staying, and they’re leaving.

The wind picks up and she presses closer, shielding herself from the cold behind your frame. “Let’s get ye inside and put yer book bag away. Then we can catch up over cookies an’ milk,” Johnny says as he closes the distance between you.

“Cookies?!” Her excitement carries on the wind, and his smile sharpens, bright and hopeful, but the whetted edge of sorrow undercuts the warmth.

“Aye, but we’ll have to make ‘em ourselves.” He brushes a stray lock from her eyes, fingers brushing against yours where his hand settles beside it on her crown, and dread blooms low in your stomach where warmth should.

She ducks away from you both, bolting towards their front stoop, and you’re left with both of your hands hovering in the air, his half curled over yours, staring after her.

You pull away first, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I just need to sort this–” You gesture to the tote full of binders and your laptop. “–and I'll be right over.”

He fishes his keys from his pocket and takes a step back, towards Isobel. “We’ll be waitin’,” he says with a wink, and turns to take her inside.

There's flour in your hair and matching handprints on your slacks, and neither Johnny nor Isobel have fared much better. You’re all a mess, and the cookies you’ve made are tantamount to your disheveled state–lumpy, dry masses of something more closely resembling a biscuit.

“Dunno what ah did wrong,” Johnny muses, breaking one in half and inspecting the crumbly texture.

You sit beside him at the kitchen table, watching Isobel dunk half a cookie into a glass of milk. “It’s the butter and flour. The ratio is imbalanced–not enough fat.” She doesn’t seem to mind, stuffing the entire piece in her mouth and readying the next, fingers covered in crumbs that fall in her milk.

Johnny shifts beside you, sliding out of his chair and taking a bite out of his cookie as he moves towards the fridge. “Still tastes good,” he says around a mouthful and pours two more glasses, placing one down in front of you when he returns. “But I’ll need another demonstration when I’m back, I think.”

You take a cookie from the plate in the middle of the table, breaking off a chunk to dunk in your milk, and ignore the mirrored sensation in your chest. You knew this was coming. You know he’s leaving.

“When you’re back? From where?” you probe. No need to dance around the subject.

He shifts again, uncharacteristically nervous, and speaks softly. “Have to leave for a little while, for work,” he explains. Your cookie turns pliant between your fingers and you bite off the softened corner, chewing slowly while you listen. “Willnae know where they’re sendin’ me to until the briefin’.”

“When are you leaving?” You stare down at the crumbs swirling in your glass.

“Tomorrow morning.”

The foreknowledge of his impending departure doesn’t make the break any cleaner. The fracturing feeling in your chest widens into fissures and chasms, jagged edges crumbling, tumbling down into the festering darkness.

When you lift your gaze you find that he’s been watching you–studying you–and his hand has crept across the table, close enough you can feel the warmth of him. “How long?” It comes out wobbly. Unsteady.

You’re drifting out to sea again.

“Few weeks. Maybe a month.” Your chest feels like it’s caving in.

There’s a knock at the door. A canary in a coal mine, warning come too late.

“Gran!” Isobel’s chair nearly topples as she pushes back from the table, racing from the kitchen to the front door.

Johnny’s hand covers yours, long, callused fingers curling around your clenched fist and squeezing. “I’ll be back before ye know it,” he murmurs, smoothing a strand of hair away from your face and tracing the curve of your jaw as he stands.

He only goes as far as the kitchen doorway. Your heart’s already somewhere in the North Sea.

“Hi, Mam.” He’s greeted by an older female voice and pulled into a hug by a woman a whole head shorter than him. Isobel hovers nearby, bouncing excitedly from foot to foot, and tugs at the older woman’s–her grandmother’s–cable knit sweater.

“Gran, come meet our friend!” she says, and tugs again until she lets go of Johnny.

You stand from the table on wobbly legs, fighting to balance your listing emotions and put on a warm smile as Johnny’s mother slides past him into the kitchen.

The resemblance between the three of them is uncanny. Johnny shares his mothers dark coloring, rich hair and warm skinned, and they all have the same eyes–steely hues of grey-blue, spiraling outwards from inky pupils like storm cells.

“So, this is the lassie next door ye willnae stop glaverin’ on about?” she asks no one in particular as she openly appraises you.

“Mam–” Johnny begins, a simmering warning, but she holds up a hand to silence him.

They carry themselves in a similar manner, in the set of their shoulders and broad stance. She may not stand as tall as he does but she’s no less imposing, and it’s an effort not to squirm under her scrutiny.

Seconds feel like hours as she looks you up and down, cataloging the flour on your pants and in your hair, glancing to her left where Johnny stands in a state of equal disarray, and a knowing look flickers like lightning in her storm cloud eyes.

“It’s good tae finally put a face wi’ a name,” she says, smiling, and pulls you into a hug, too. “Call me Fenella, or Fen, whichever ye like.”

You return the gesture hesitantly, looking over her shoulder to Johnny for guidance and finding none. He simply smiles back at you from where he leans against the doorway, something unreadable in his expression lingering beneath it.

“It’s nice to meet you too… I- I’d love to stay, but should probably be heading home. I have an early morning and wouldn’t want to intrude on your visit,” you say by way of excuse.

“Ah’m naw stayin’ long, dear,” she explains, finally pulling away. Isobel returns to her side, pressing her shoulder to her thigh, and Fenella’s hand settles on the crown of her head. “Here tae take the wean for a stay wi’ her gran.”

“Is yer bag ready, leannan? D’ya have all yer books for school?” Johnny asks from where he stands, hands having found their way into his pockets again. His shoulders droop, broad frame deflating before your eyes. Leaving her behind, even with his mother, takes a toll on him.

Isobel leans around her gran to say, “I’ave all my books. And Mr. Ghost.”

“Goan an’ get yer things then, Bell,” Fenella ushers her out of the kitchen, climbing the stairs behind her to her room.

You watch until they disappear above the half open staircase, but Johnny has been watching you. Watching you navigate the shoal of your emotions, razor sharp rock scraping against a flimsy hull.

“C’mere, lass,” he entreats, one arm outstretched towards you, and your feet move of their own accord, carrying you forward until his hand settles on your shoulder, momentarily moored in the eddy of a tide pool. “Didnae mean to tell ye in the middle of… this.” He gestures above him to the sound of footsteps overhead. “Only got the call yesterday.”

With your hands folded at your front, you stare down at them, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve. “It’s okay. I understand—”

“No, lass, it isnae okay,” he interrupts, hand gliding up your shoulder, your neck, and coming to rest on your cheek. He lifts your gaze back up to his and he’s wearing that nameless emotion, staring down at you with a pained expression.

This hurts him as much as it hurts you.

“The job I do, it isnae always… predictable. Dinnae get much warning when I’m called in for assignments. I should have warned ye…” his thumb traces soothing arcs over your cheek, but it does nothing for the gaping hole in your chest. “I’m sorry… I should have—”

“It’s okay, Johnny. Really.” The lie feels like rubbing salt into a wound, burns the back of your throat like you’re speaking around a lump made of sandpaper, and your voice comes out scratchy and raw.

His hand lingers on your cheek, eyes darting from yours to your nose, lips, cheeks, brow. Memorizing.

“Let me walk ye home?” You nod, unsure if you can speak around the cordolium lodged in your throat, and his hand moves from your cheek to your waist, guiding you through the razor rock and churning tide to the front door.

His arm remains firmly around you, fingers digging into your softness as he escorts you across the meager expanse of your lawn.

There’s an SUV, still running, parked in front of both houses and left to keep warm while Isobel gathers her things. She and Fenella step out into the brisk evening air just as you and Johnny reach the top of your stairs, and Isobel waves to you as they descend. Your arm feels leaden as you lift your hand into the air, waving back to her.

“She‘ll miss ye. Talks about ye all the time,” Johnny says beside you, unwilling to let you go just yet. “I’ll be missin’ ye too,” he admits, and you thought you’d found the bottom of the pit in your stomach. Thought you were already lying at the bottom of it.

You were wrong.

The well of your affection for them feels bottomless. The floor crumbles, residual tremors of the quaking in your chest, and you’re falling, falling, falling…Even with his arm around your waist.

You fell in love with the man in front of you. Fell in love with the darling little girl climbing into her grandmother's car. You’re already in love with Fenella and her dedication to her family.

You’ve been falling this whole time, no safety net in sight.

“I- …” Your voice cracks, and you try again. “I’ll miss you, too. Both of you.”

You’re falling, and they’re leaving.

There’s little warning, just a tug of your blouse, before you’re being folded into his arms. A wide palm cradles your head to his chest, fingers threading through your hair, and he presses his cheek to your crown.

“Won’t be able to use my phone a lot, but I’ll call when I can.” He murmurs his promise into your hair. “If… if I’m not here an’ somethin’ happens… I gave my Mum yer number. Saved hers in yer phone when I gave ye mine.” He pauses. Sucks in a shuddering breath before he continues. “Whatever it is, she’ll help.”

You nod your understanding and he pulls back just enough to see your face, guides your head to look up at him and says, “Promise me. Promise that ye’ll go to her if ye need anythin’,” with a desperation you’ve never heard from him.

So you make another promise. Let your eyes flutter closed as he presses his forehead to yours and ghosts his lips across the chilled skin of your brow.

And then he leaves.

Isobel is sorted, buckled into her car seat and saying her goodbye’s to Johnny, and Fenella MacTavish stands beside the driver’s side door, watching.

She’s said this goodbye a hundred times. Sent him off to god knows where to fight a war she’s never heard of. It never gets easier.

Isobel’s door closes, and her son turns to her with pain in his eyes. “I hate leaving ‘er.”

“Which one?” she intones, and Johnny leans his hip against the B pillar.

“Both of them. The three of ye.”

“Then make sure ye come back tae ‘er–tae all of us,” she advises, and pulls him into one last hug. “I cannae bury another child.”

Next>>>

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earthtooz · 10 months

Text

x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ

in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.

warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae

a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!

you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.

yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.

“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question.

“i know. i can see your suitcases.”

he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.

“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.

still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”

softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.

he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”

“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?”

“can i just come in?”

the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”

“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”

“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”

“-i love you.”

the world stills.

the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos.

but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.

“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”

in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning.

“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?”

instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in.

“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches.

he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.

sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence.

sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you.

“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.

the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.

“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart.

“stop it.”

somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”

“sae-”

“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”

with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”

“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.”

“you’ll hurt me again.”

“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”

you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”

“rin will, then.”

you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you.

he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.

but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him.

everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.

but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him.

“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.

“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”

“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them.

“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”

a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.

something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.

#sae x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock

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specialagentlokitty · 25 days

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Hotch x reader - a criminals obsession

Can you do prompt 76 (from the second prompt list) with Hotch x bau!reader? - Anon💜

76: “How do you get away with all this?” “The key is not to get caught.”

Walking through the hallway of the BAU, you smirked a little at one of the guards that were escorting you, a tight hold of his gun.

“Come on, you don’t have to be so tense.”

“Shut up.” He snapped.

You smirked a little more, turning your attention to the hallway you were walking down, eyes scanning over every single inch of it.

You weren’t going to be able to run out of a federal building and you knew that, but you also knew they wouldn’t shoot you, the guns were just for show.

You were checking out all possible exits you would be able to take, even if you couldn’t get out the building you would still be able to give them a run for their money if you really wanted to.

You were escorted to an interrogation room where your cuffs were secured to the table, the ones around your feet to the ground, and the two guards stood t the back of the room.

You leant back in your chair, tilting your head back so you could look at the ceiling and keep a watch on the two guards to see what they were doing.

You knew when the door was opened, and when a file was placed down.

“You’re a hard person to find (Y/N).”

You smirked a little more, turning your head towards the voice.

“Aaron Hotchner, it’s about time we meet considering the fact we’ve spoke an awful lot.”

He sat down opposite you.

“You managed to evade us for a long time, yet you willingly handed yourself in, requesting to speak to me and only me, why?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Maybe I was bored.”

“I don’t think so, what’s the real reason?”

You gestured with your head towards one of the guards.

“He’s got my phone, take it and get that tech if yours to unlock it, there’s a message or two on there that I think would be intriguing to you.”

Hotch held his hand out as the guard handed your phone over, and he gestured to you.

“Or you could tell me the pin so I could unlock it and make this all a lot easier.”

You hummed a little bit, giving a small shrug.

“You already know one of them.”

“Strauss offered you a position within the BAU, I’m aware, and I don’t agree with it.”

“You don’t think we’d make a good team?”

“You’re a wanted criminal in almost every single state for a long list of reasons.”

You grinned at him.

“Impressive isn’t it?”

Hotch tapped your file.

“How do you get away with all this?”

You winked at him.

“The key is not to get caught.”

“We’re not going to play this game your way, we’re going to play by my rules, which means you’re going to tell me everything you know about our unsub, including the calls you had with him, then you’re going to sit in a cell and wait while I decide what to do with you. If I decide I don’t want you on my team you’ll be sentenced to life without patrol for everything you’ve done.”

You hummed a little, leaning back in your chair, swinging it on two legs as you thought.

After a minute, you slammed the chair back down, placed your hands on the table as you stood up, leaning over it.

The guards trained their guns on you.

You laughed wildly as you realised Hotch hadn’t moved a single muscle, he didn’t even flinch at your movement.

Slowly you sat back down.

“No. We’re not playing my game by your rules Aaron, we’re playing them by mine. I get to join you little band of crime fighters, I give you what you want once I’m sure that I’m not going to be thrown in jail after this.”

“Not happening (Y/N).”

“Then I guess we’re in a stalemate, right? Is that the right term? Maybe I should ask Reid to come in here, I’m sure it’s easy enough to get into his head, maybe he’s watching right now and I can do it through that mirror, or maybe Garcia, I reckon I could get into her head a lot faster.”

“That’s enough.” He warned.

You smirked at him.

He knew what you were doing of course, you were trying to get into his head as well, the easiest way for you to do that was through his team.

You knew that he valued his team and would want to protect them from you and your manipulation tactics, you were good at that.

Hotch stood up, picking up your file and phone.

“I’m going through your phone so whatever is on there I’ll find, which means I don’t actually need your help.”

“Oh you think the messages from your unsub are on there? That’s cute.”

Hotch stopped by the door.

“They’re not on that phone silly, and don’t bother trying to track another to my name because it’s untraceable, and it’s not registered to me.”

He turned around.

“There’s lives at stake and you want to turn it into a game?” He snapped.

“I couldn’t really care less to be honest, do you think I’d have that long list of charges if I did? I may have never directly hurt another person Aaron but I don’t care what happens to people. There’s nothing in it for me if I did.”

Hotch left the room, joining the others in the conference room where there was a live feed from your interrogation room.

He set your file and phone down on the table.

“You think it’s true?” Rossi asked.

“Yes, they have an obsession with me, I was the first one to ever get close enough to catching them.”

He sighed, crossing his arms.

“They’re also not going to willingly give up information without something in return, that’s how they work.”

“So, we have to give them what they want otherwise they won’t help.” Emily muttered.

“Absolutely not.” Hotch replied.

He knew what your game was, you get what you want, they get what they want and you’d go on the run again.

You learn quick, which means you would’ve already thought of ways to cover your traces from them, he could see how smug you were.

You had everything thought out carefully, you would have played every move in your head over and over until you found the right ones.

Everything you did was calculated to tip the balance in your favour.

And what he didn’t know was that he was actually playing straight into your hands, you had already planned out every possible scenario when you handed yourself in.

You were counting down the minutes until he returned to tell you he was going to have you sent to trail, and that’s exactly what you wanted to happen.

He knew you didn’t care what you had to do, or who you had to put in harms way to get what you wanted, because you loved the game of cat and mouse you had been playing.

You tilted your head back, looking towards one of the guards.

“I think it’s time up. Don’t you?”

The other guard spun around, a loud shot echoing the room, and you stood up, dropping the cuffs that had been unlocked when you were first sat down.

The guard opened the door, and you turned to the camera, giving a small salute as you followed your helper down the hallways as alarms blasted through the building.

At the stairwell, you were handed another phone and you turned to Hotch who was aiming his gun at you.

“Me or your unsub, pick wisely now.”

You tossed the phone, slamming the door shut behind you as you ran down the stairs with a wild laugh.

Oh you really did love the chase

#criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #Hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #Hotch imagine #Aaron Hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #Aaron Hotchner imagine

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ddejavvu · 9 months

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Love to Lie - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader (Part 4/FINAL PART) / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Summary: Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, Mitchell!reader, angst, angst with a fluffy/happy ending, amnesia trope, hospitals and their subsequent medical details, memory loss, goose and carole are still alive because i say so

WC: 4.1K / navigation / inbox

A/N: the real last part! i sincerely hope you enjoyed this series, it's very dear to my heart and so is all of the wonderful feedback you've given me on it. I love hearing what you think, it keeps me motivated to write more for you and I'm just so happy that I got to share this with you all. Thank you to anyone who's enjoyed this, I'm privileged to have shared your time and gotten your love in return. <333

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You feel like he’s gutted you. Like he’s plunged the hand holding the ring right into your stomach, twisted it so that the gem inside slits your insides into ribbons, and wrenched it back out dripping and glistening in crimson.

He looks so hopeful, eyes earnest and shining as he stares at you, that damn ring held between you like a life preserve. Like if you let him toss it over your finger, reel you in with his tender heartstrings, you wouldn’t drown. You’d escape the dreadful ocean of grief that’s been slowly filling your lungs since you’d left, you’d give your tired legs a break from treading water if you could just say yes. The word is on the tip of your tongue, and your achy heart begs you to say it, but you can’t.

Not when he doesn’t know.

“Bradley,” You whimper, reaching out to lay a gentle touch over his hand. You wrap your hand around both his own and the ring, squeezing tightly, “I have to tell you something.”

Bradley’s enthusiasm wanes. He hadn’t waited long enough. You’re not in love with him yet; he rushed into things just like he had before and he’d ruined it. How did he manage to ruin it two times? The best thing in his life, and he’s fucked it up twice in a row now.

You’re looking at him with eyes full of sadness, and he catches a flash of pity in them; just like he’d feared. His stomach sours and he balks, spooking like a startled horse.

“No, no. No, it’s okay, you’re- you’re not ready yet, sweetheart, that’s okay. We can wait,” He babbles, wrenching his hand out from your own and jamming the ring back into the drawer, like if he can just get it into a safe zone, it’ll hit undo on the entire fiasco.

“No, baby,” Your face screws up, a barely-withheld sob behind your frown, “Baby that’s not- we really need to talk. Okay? I promised we would today.”

“I- I know, but-” He stammers, trying to evade your gentle touch as you pry his hand back from his dresser drawer, the ring still clutched inside and lining his palm with a layer of sweat.

“Let me talk,” You plead, “Brad, I need to come clean. Please?”

He’s sure you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows what little saliva there is in his mouth, “Okay.”

“Two weeks ago,” You start, and the words feel leaden on your tongue; impossibly heavy. “-before your crash. You- you remember Javy’s crash, yeah?”

“Yeah,” His breath catches in his throat, visions of his teammate's poor girlfriend swimming in his mind. Visions of the woman he never wanted you to have to be.

“That really-” You choke on a sob, “That really freaked me out, Bradley. I realized that you could go down like that. I- I’ve always known, y’know, ‘cause of your dad. But I just- I was so young when that happened, and it wasn’t fresh, so when Javy went down… I had this revelation. That I could-” Your voice tampers down into a weak whimper, “I could lose you, Brad. I could say goodbye to you one morning and not get to say hello again in the evening. I just- lost it,” You admit, brushing away stray hair from over your red-rimmed eyes, “I’m sure you noticed I wasn’t the most pleasant to say goodbye to in the mornings. But- but baby, I was always so happy when you came home, because it meant I had more time. It felt like some awful time bomb,” You recall, “Like every time I said goodbye to you would be the last, and I couldn’t rest until you were back home. I’ve never felt like that before, I’ve always had confidence in your abilities. Even on deployment, I know you’re working with people who have your back,” You sniffle, “I’ve always known you could die, but it’s never felt that much like you would before. But then- Javy wasn’t the one who crashed,” You explain, voice thick with blubbering tears, “I mean- that was just his jet malfunctioning. And then all of a sudden I- it was like I remembered that I could lose you in some freak accident. Like it wouldn’t have to be your fault, it could just happen, and you could die. Like your dad, Bradley, I- I didn't wanna lose you like we almost lost your dad."

“That is,” You collect yourself, swallowing a heavy sob that leaves your throat achy and gutted, “My nightmare, baby.” You tangle your fingers with his where you’re still clutching his hand, squeezing tight enough to probably bruise the guy, “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I would die if I lost you, Brad. Even if I was alive, I’d be dead inside. I need you, I need you in my life, Bradley.”

What you’re saying sounds good to him. Terrible, of course, if he didn’t come home one day. But he is home, and you’re telling him you need him, and he can’t figure out why in the world you’ve said no twice to putting on the ring.

“You have me,” He vows, squeezing your hand right back, “Honey, you have me right here, right now. Why won’t you let me keep you?” He presses the ring into your palm, and you both feel the metal band burning your skin like it’s been superheated.

“You asked me to marry you before you crashed,” You blurt, and even though slamming a wrecking ball into your reverie of late feels like stabbing yourself in the chest, there’s something gratifying about telling the truth. About finally coming clean, about telling him exactly why you can’t say yes.

“You sat me down, and you gave me the sweetest speech in the world,” You recall with tears thick in your voice, “About how you loved me, and how you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and- and you proposed, and I said no.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek, analyzing the grief in your voice. You sound anguished, like you’re upset with yourself for saying no, but you didn’t say yes this time around, so he can’t believe what he hears.

He takes a deep breath, cutting off whatever you’re going to say next, “I know.”

It feels good for him to come clean, too. Even if he's dreading what'll happen, even if he thinks there's a good chance you'll march out the door, he's glad to be done with the lies. He'd loved them while they'd lasted, but they went down in flames just like his jet.

“-and-” You stop, blinking twice, “What?”

“I know,” He admits, “I- I remember, honey.”

“You- what?” Your eyes widen, and you lean forwards, gazing imploringly at Bradley, “Brad, you- you remember? You remember everything now?”

“Yeah,” He nods, watching as you process the information.

You feel sick. You’re not sure why, because you’ve already told him the truth. But memories are different than retellings, and you both know that. No explanation on your part would have conveyed the crushed, betrayed look in his eyes when you’d declined his proposal; there’s not words in the english language suitable to describe how desperately he’d pleaded for you to stay, even in just the simplest of touches to your waist, trying to pull you back to him that night.

Now he remembers that, now you’re on the same page, and when you turn it, you’re not sure what you’ll see.

The end of a chapter? The beginning of a new one? Or the blank back cover of a book, perhaps, if your luck has run dry.

“When did your memories come back?” You ask, your voice sounding faraway and dazed in the back of your mind. You’re not even sure you’ve really said it, you’re too wrapped up in worrying about what he’s thinking. If your confession had spurred on his memories, you’re not sure you’ll ever get a chance to put on that ring.

Bradley swallows what little saliva is in his mouth, “A while ago.”

“How long?” Your brows furrow impossibly deeper, your brain running circles trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, “Like- like since this morning?”

“Since I woke up,” He confesses with a heavy heart, because lying to you hurt even if he’d loved the outcome, “In the hospital. I- I didn’t remember at first, but they came back, uh, in a few minutes.”

You feel like you’ve walked into a cloud of smoke. Everything around you is foggy, and your brain can’t process what he’s told you. It feels like he’s lying to you, like he’s tricking you and pretending that he’s known the entire time just so as not to feel foolish. But that’s not Bradley, he doesn’t need to be smarter than you, or faster than you, or better than you, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“But- why did you lie?” You stare at him with tears glimmering in your waterline, and he’s sure this is what he looked like when he’d asked you not to go that night. Betrayed, confused, heartbroken.

“Because you did,” Bradley whimpers, wanting nothing more than to swipe a thumb under your eye and gather the tears there on his skin, taking the burden away from you.

“You came in and you asked to kiss me, and- and I wanted you to. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, because I didn’t want you to walk out again, so I just- I lied. And I let you lie to me, too.”

You think back, and you remember how you’d walked back into the hospital room, on the verge of tears with nerves rolling in your belly. And you’d asked to kiss him, you’d given him the perfect opportunity to lie, and he’d taken it. And you can’t be mad at him, because you’d lied, too. You’re slightly hurt. It doesn’t feel good knowing that your lover- or, ex-lover lied to you. It feels even worse to know that Bradley lied because he thought you’d leave him if he told the truth. Like you’d turn tail and run, whooping through the parking lot about being free at last. But you’re the one that put that thought in his head; you’re the one that ran away. So you can’t blame him for keeping you on a short leash.

You feel too many things at once. You feel like a monster, like a cruel heartbreaker that had shattered Bradley’s to pieces. You feel confused, because you’re still processing that the past few days were entirely fake on both ends. You feel slightly betrayed, like you wish Bradley would have just told you. But you didn’t tell him either, and that makes you feel like an asshole. Too many feelings are bottled up inside, and they gush forth in a messy round of tears, one worse than Bradley’s ever seen from you.

It sets him in a panic, and he’d already been misty-eyed before. Now his own tears roll in fat droplets down his cheeks as he muscles down his sobs for your sake, dropping your hand only to take up your waist. He drags you closer on the bed, but it’s uncoordinated and a struggle as your limbs don’t cooperate. You’re limp like a ragdoll, and once he finally has you positioned in his lap he buries his face in your shoulder to soak his tears into your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, his chest heaving and shaking with sobs, “I’m sorry I lied. I shouldn’t have, I- I know it was wrong. I just- I wanted you to stay, honey. And I thought it would be okay if we were both lying, because then I could make you fall in love with me again, and- and it was a stupid plan, I’m sorry. I should have told you, I’m sorry, I- I never wanted to make you cry. I’m sorry, honey, please don’t- please don’t cry. I love you, please, don’t cry.”

He thinks he’s allergic to your tears. His chest hurts, his face burns, and the front of his shirt is slowly sticking to his chest where you’re crying against it. He’s not sure he can handle much more of this, he can barely breathe and if you don’t stop crying soon, his lungs might collapse. He doesn’t like that you’re crying; even though he knows its a messy situation, even though he knows it’s complicated beyond belief, he’s worried that lying to you fractured your trust in him, and that won’t look good on his permanent record, especially not when he’s waiting on a yes or no from you regarding marriage.

“Honey, please,” He knows he’s not the only one at fault, he knows you’re just as guilty for lying as he is, but you’d done it out of pity, and he’d done it out of greed. You’d played pretend with him so that he didn’t lay alone in a hospital bed, but he’d lied to you so that you wouldn’t leave. He’s kept you trapped, and he’s worried you’ll break free from the cage and run.

“I’m sorry,” He cries, clutching tighter at you when you try pulling away, scared you’re on your way out, “No, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Stop apologizing!’ You beg, a raw quality to your throat that bleeds into your voice. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t let him blubber out sorry after sorry for something he’s not at fault for. You wish he’d been honest, sure, but you couldn’t possibly blame him for continuing the game that you started playing.

“Just- stop, please,” You breathe, quieter now this time. “I- You’re not the one that has to be sorry.”

“But I am,” Bradley gushes, clinging tight to you, still nervous you’re trying to leave. But you’re stationed to stay in his lap, smearing away tears with the skin of your wrists.

“Well don’t be.” You huff, frustration swirling in your chest, all self-directed, “Don’t- don’t apologize for my mistakes! Bradley,” You whimper, rubbing at your eyes hard enough to see swirls beyond your vision, “I left you. I rejected your proposal, and I left you, and then when you almost died, and forgot I left you, I lied to your face. You had amnesia, Bradley, and I lied to you, in what world should you be apologizing? You should hate me,” You decide, stomach churning at just the thought, “I’m so sorry, Bradley, I- I’m so sorry! You should be throwing me out, you should kick me to the curb, and-”

“I don’t hate you.” He says, his voice gruff. He says it plain and simple, like it’s easy. Like there’s no hard feelings, like he’s not perturbed at all by your dishonesty, your betrayal.

“I love you,” He continues, and oh, does that drive the nail into the coffin you’re trapped in, “I love you so much, honey, I just don’t understand you. Why did you leave?”

“I was so scared,” You’re getting tired of saying it, but you know you have to, “Javy crashed, and I realized you could, too. Brad, I’m so sorry, I was so selfish, I didn’t wanna go through that. I left you because I didn’t wanna get hurt. I- I left to save myself from mourning your loss. But it didn’t work, and- and you still crashed, and I still almost had to mourn your loss, and it still hurt, so- so bad, Bradley. It hurt so bad,” You blubber, and he pulls you back into his chest.

“I know,” He murmurs, and you can’t fathom why he’s still comforting you, why his large, calloused hand is rubbing sweet, soft, soothing circles over your back like you’re not a traitor, “I know, honey, I can’t imagine. I’m sorry you had to get that call.”

“Come on,” You plead, your fists clenched in Bradley’s shirt, nails digging into the fabric, “Bradley, this- this isn’t fair. You should be mad at me. Even if you-” You can barely say it, the thought sounding like a fantasy; too good to be true, “Even if you love me, you should be upset. That I left, that I- that I lied, you can’t do this. You can’t comfort me, and you can’t apologize.”

“I can, too.” He argues, his brows furrowed and his mustache turned down with his frown, “Sweetheart, I know you’re sorry about all those things, you told me yourself. I know you’re sorry you left, I know you’re sorry you lied, it’s okay. It hurt when you left, but I never hated you. I wanted you back,” He admits with a shaky voice, “I wanted to fix things. And when you asked to kiss me in the hospital, I chose to let you lie to me even though I knew the truth. I liked it, baby, I loved it, because I had you back. You’re sorry, and- and I’m sorry, and we’re both sorry, so let’s do something about it. Let’s fix it, baby, please.”

“I want to fix it,” You sob, “I really do, Bradley. I- I wanted to pretend forever,” You confess, “Because it felt like it did before I left, and- you have no idea how much I wanted that back, Brad.”

“Me too,” He agrees with a rough sniffle, “I- I wanted you to pretend forever, honey. I really did, I- that’s why I proposed again,” He cringes at the memory, at the second time he’d asked to no avail, “Because I just wanted you to keep pretending, and say yes, and I thought- I thought I might be able to make you love me again, so I went for it, but I shouldn’t have. I should- I should’ve talked to you first, I should have told you the truth, but I just- I was scared, and-”

“Oh, Bradley,” You gush, grabbing the back of his neck and tugging him down into a hug. You might be smothering him, you’re not sure if he can breathe where he’s buried in your shoulder, but he doesn’t care. He’s clutching you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, and you’re horrified that he might really think that, but you understand why he does.

“Marry me,” He begs, “Please, honey, marry me. I’m not mad at you, I love you, please, just- just marry me, please. I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me,” You promise, tears flowing steady down your cheeks, “Honey, I promise, I won’t walk out unless you want me to.”

“I don’t,” Bradley shakes his head, his arms encircling your waist even tighter now, “I don’t want that, honey, please- please don’t.”

“I won't,” You promise, “But Brad- do you want to marry me for love, or because you’re afraid I’ll leave if you don’t?”

“I love you,” He croaks into your shoulder, and you know he’s not lying to you now, “I mean- I mean of course I’m scared to lose you. But I’m scared because I love you, and I still wanted to marry you even before this happened, before I was scared. I’m not trying to tie you down so you can’t leave, I’m trying to love you forever. It’s love, honey, I love you.”

“I love you too,” You wail, unperturbed by your messy, tear-stained, snot-streaked faces as Bradley lifts his head out of your shoulder to kiss you. It’s desperate, sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it’s the first real kiss you’ve shared in a long time, and you wouldn’t change a thing about it if you could. It’s all desperate, grabby hands and quivering breaths as you familiarize yourselves with each other again, remember what it’s like to be honestly, truly in love with each other. You’ve thrown the lies away like a hardened cast, and the bones beneath it have mended, still tender but whole again. You can’t get enough of him, you can’t take your hands out of his hair and you can’t press your chest up against his enough. He feels the same, he can’t possibly tug your hips further against his own, and he can’t dig his nose any further into your cheek or he might poke a hole there. But he wants to, so he tries.

You’re ravenous, not with desire but with love, the purest and sweetest form of it. You’re so glad to have him back, to really have him back, that you can’t care about your leg falling asleep where it’s bent awkwardly against his lap, or the stickiness of his tears on your cheeks. All you care about is Bradley, all you know is Bradley, all you ever want to know is Bradley.

He reaches for your hand while still engaged in the kiss, and you swear you feel your heart crack when you pull yourself away to stop him in his tracks.

“Wait,” You pant, wondering why he’s doing the same when he’d practically stolen the air from your lungs, “You’re absolutely sure you want to marry me? Even though-”

“Jesus,” Bradley huffs, keeping the ring in one hand and reaching for your face in the other. He squishes your cheeks together, until your lips are puckered and he can brace his forehead against your own, eyes wide and grin exasperated, “Yes! Yes, I really want to marry you, even though you left, even though you lied. I lied, too, honey. You left because you were scared, and that’s why I lied. I get it, okay? I’m not gonna turn on you, I love you. I want to marry you.”

“But- but we should work through this,” You propose, pointedly not swatting him away when he poises the ring over your marriage finger.

“Okay. We can work through it in marriage counseling,” He promises with a breathless smile, the expression wholly genuine because for the first time in three weeks, he’s confident you’ll say yes, “Because I want to marry you. Do you want to marry me?”

You’re not fucking this up a third time.

“Yes!” You gush, and you squeal when he jams the ring onto your finger, moving in for a kiss far more eagerly than you’re prepared for. It’s like being greeted by an overexcited puppy, one that’s a bit too big to be ramming into you, but that you can’t tell no. He kisses you voraciously, joining your hands together so that the metal band on your ring finger rubs against his own skin.

“I love you,” You pant, in a rare moment of being able to drag oxygen into your lungs, “And- I’m sorry. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Bradley swears, kissing you again before you can murmur any more apologies, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, baby. We’ll work through it. You were scared, so I’ll help you however I can so that you’re not so scared. And I was scared, so I’ll probably be a bit of a clinger for a while. That’s it, baby, we don’t have to break up.” He promises, “That’s all it is, honey. We can work through it. We love each other, we can do this.”

“We do love each other,” Saying it feels like a blessing you’re casting over yourselves, an affirmation that you want to say in the mirror ten times before starting your day, “I love you, Bradley.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” He hums, dissuaded very little when you turn your head to look for your phone. He presses the same frequency of kisses to your cheek as he had your lips, and you let him smooch away at your face while you hunt for the device.

“Here!” You find it tangled in the bedsheets, “Brad, let’s tell everyone.”

“Hm?” He glances sideways at your phone, “Oh. Yeah, my parents are probably worried.”

“My dad, too.” You hum, “I told him at the store earlier.”

“I told my parents then, too.” He confesses, “But- but they’re not mad at you, or anything honey, they understand.”

You marvel at the revelation, that that's the reason Carole had been so confident bidding you goodbye.

“I.. told your mom already,” You realize you still haven’t put all of his puzzle pieces together for him, “Uh, she knew before you woke up, actually. She was the one to suggest that I pretend nothing happened. She didn’t want you to be too stressed in the hospital.”

His brow furrows where he’s in the middle of kissing your jaw, and he pulls back to evaluate the new information. But he’s not angry, more exhausted. He chuckles weakly, “I told her today, she pretended she had no idea. Damn, that woman is a good actor.”

“Very good,” You agree, snatching Bradley’s hand out of his lap to curl your own over the back of it. Your hands are stacked palm-to-back, with Bradley’s resting on the blanket and yours overtop. Your ring glistens in the afternoon sunlight and snapping a picture of it is one of the most gratifying things in the world, second only to the feeling of it laying permanently on your finger. You’ll have to put this one in the photo album, the beginning of a new chapter.

Bradley doesn’t let go of your hand after you snap the picture, only flips his own beneath it so that he can hold it more securely. He puts his chin over your shoulder to kiss your cheek as you use your only free hand to type out a group text message to your family members. Bradley’s squadron will be next on the list, but for now, your family receives the shot of your hands intertwined, a ring glistening on yours.

I said yes this time.💗

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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thot4ellie · 2 months

Text

oh sweetheart pt 2

pairing: boxer!ellie x f! jesses sister!reader

word count: 2k

rating: 18+ (smut will be coming in later parts)

warnings: boxer!ellie, fighting/boxing, flirting, blood, weed mentioned, joel is dead in this :( (no character description let it be whoever you want)

summary: you finally learn her name and she wont be bothered to call you by yours.

author notes: hi part 2 of oh sweetheart! i got tons of love on part one so here you guys go! pls reblog, comment, or like! thanks for the support! thinking about throwing dealer!ellie into this also idkk thoughts???

PART 2 | part 2.5

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

you were captivated as you watched throw her first jab, throwing her left hand first then throwing her other into a hook that hits his chin, you hear shouts around you as the man stumbled back. hes at least twice her size, yet you watched her move around him effortlessly, her opponent charged toward her but she skillfully dodged and delivered an uppercut to his jaw, sending him reeling.

“go ellie!" jesse's voice rang out from beside you.

her name was ellie.

you were so distracted by finding out her name but then realized who said it. your brother knows her?

your thoughts were interrupted as you watched ellie dodge the man once again and land another jab to his face. he retaliated with a blow to her stomach, but she stood her ground, dodging his next strike and delivering a powerful hook to his chin. she followed up with another hit to his jaw, showing no signs of backing down.

you felt a pang of worry as you saw her take a hit to the face but she seemed unfazed. you watched in awe as she continued to land hits and evade most of his attacks. the crowd's reactions made you cringe every time he managed to get close enough to make contact. you watched the next hits from her that kept landing and the hits that she mostly dodged. you winced from the crowd every time he managed to get close enough to make contact, he got her one good time and her lip spilt, she wiped it on the back of her hand and continued to stand her ground. as if it never happened at all.

your eyes were fixed on the countdown clock behind them, watching as it ticked down. only 10 seconds left in the match, it went by so quickly that you didn't even realize the three minutes were up. the crowd started to get louder as it came down to the final seconds. you watched ellie move in to deliver the last blow, knocking her opponent down one last time. he couldn't be bothered to get up. the buzzer sounded as the coach held up ellie's tattooed arm and announced her as the winner. cheers erupted around you, and you couldn't help but clap and cheer too.

ellie turned to leave the ring and caught you clapping. she was surprised to see you there, and then noticed her friends, jesse and dina, standing next to you. you were jesse's sister? ellie thought to herself as she made her way out of the ring, tearing the tape off her hands looking at the spats of blood decorating her arms. this was a regular occurrence - jesse, dina, and some others coming to the gym to watch her fights.

you found the seats again with dina as the crowd quieted down and returned to normal chatter. you sat there silently, wondering how jesse knew ellie. your brother was still standing with his friends chatting about the fight, but your curiosity got the best of you. you were about to ask dina about ellie when you were interrupted.

looking up, you saw ellie standing in front of you both, saying hi to dina. she got up from her chair to hug her and congratulated ellie on her win, realizing you hadn't been introduced.

“hey ellie, this is jesse's sister!” dina said, motioning towards you and then back to ellie. your face felt like it was turning red as you were put on the spot, still not fully grasping that she was just the one in the ring and now she was standing in front of you. you weren't prepared for this after what had happened outside.

“hey sweetheart," ellie smirked and spoke to you.

at the same time, dina got up to fetch jesse from his friends. you were relieved dina wasn’t right next to you and you’re sure she didn’t hear what ellie called you because now you really were blushing. she took the seat dina was in and sat in front of you.

“hi,” you said softly back to her, “you did good up there,” you expressed, not knowing what to really say to the girl with the busted lip in front of you.

“thank you, thought you would have left after outside but im glad you stayed” ellie responded to you, “not sure why he brought you, this doesn’t seem like a place for a girl like you sweetheart.” she added.

“long week i guess,” you told her, “im new in town so..” you trailed off as you realized she has been staring at you the whole. you went to continue talking to her, wanting to take the advantage of no one else being around, but your brother was making his way over and cut you off as he started talking to ellie about the match and dina made her way back to standing next to you since ellie had sat down, “hey we were all going to head to the bar after this, you coming?” she wondered.

“hey, i don't think i’m gonna stick around much longer. it’s been a rough week and im ready to head home," you replied, unable to take your eyes off the girl chatting with your brother. dina said she understood and mentioned they were leaving soon. overhearing jesse ask ellie if she wanted to join them, you missed her response amidst the noise of jesse's friends approaching the table.

a little while later, jesse took dina's hand to leave, and you noticed ellie sitting there, fiddling with the tape she had removed from her hands. you wondered if you should have accepted jesse's invitation to go out with them. as everyone started saying their goodbyes and heading towards the door, jesse and dina hugged you one last time. they asked you to text them once you got home safely after using the restroom and calling an uber.

after they left, you remained by the door and noticed ellie still sitting there, now looking at you. blushing, you realized you didn't know where the bathroom was, and ellie seemed to know everything about the place. summoning up the courage, you walked over to her, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

“hey, um, could you show me where the bathroom is?" you asked shyly. she smiled and stood up, motioning for you to follow her. you both made your way to the other side of the gym and entered an open door frame, eventually reaching a locker room.

sitting on a bench surrounded by blue lockers, ellie pointed to a door behind her. “here, use this one. its much cleaner than the one out there," she remarked. you thanked her and headed towards the women's restroom. before pushing the door open, you glanced back at ellie and caught her looking back at you too.

after using the bathroom and washing your hands, you made your way out. the bathroom wasn't the cleanest, but it wasn't disgusting either. you couldn't imagine what the one outside must be like. as the door creaked, ellie looked your way once again. you noticed she had changed out of the white tank top she was wearing during the fight back into the t-shirt and grey sweatpants she had on outside. along with her black converse.

“thank you," you smiled at her, "for earlier and for now." you finished, unsure of what else to say.

“anytime, sweetheart," she nodded towards you. you felt like your cheeks had been red forever now. she paused and added, “how are you getting home? i know your brother left, are you walking this late?"

“i walked here, so i was just going to get an uber. i should probably order it now," you said, reaching for your phone in your back pocket.

“no, ill take you," she insisted. “it’s pretty late, and id rather make sure you get home safe." She thought back to what had happened outside.

“it's okay, i don't want to inconvenience you or anything," you started to say, but she cut you off, promising it wasn't a problem at all and that she truly didn't mind. you thanked her again, realizing you hadn't said much else to her besides that.

“wait right here, and i’ll be back. don't go anywhere," she instructed with a small smile before walking back out to the front where the gym was. you looked around and noticed a backpack on the floor with her workout clothes next to it. you saw a little spaceship pin and wings on the bag. she returned a couple minutes later, saying you could leave now. she kneeled down, unzipping her bag to grab a set of keys. she smiled at you as she stood up, and you followed her out.

you exited the locker room and noticed that the gym was now empty. the crowds had dispersed, the workers had clocked out, and all the chairs were put away. you walked alongside her until you reached the front door, and she proceeded to turn off all the lights.

“this is my gym," she said softly as she locked up behind us.

“wow, this place is all yours? that's pretty cool," you remarked. she glanced at you and smiled.

“yeah, it used to belong to my stepdad but now me and my uncle take care of it," she explained as we made our way to her old honda crv parked in the lot. there was a hint of sadness in her voice, but you didn't pry, even though you were curious.

she unlocked the car doors as you approached, then walked around to open the passenger side for you. you thanked her quietly as she shut the door and circled around to the driver's seat.

after she got in and started the car, you expressed your gratitude once more. you noticed the scent of pine air freshener hanging from her rearview mirror, mixed with a faint smell of weed. it was a pleasant combination.

“you don't have to keep thanking me, but you're welcome," she reassured you. “so, where am I dropping you off?" she inquired.

you provided her with your address, and she knew exactly where it was since she lived just a five-minute drive away. she fiddled with the stereo, and fleetwood mac's “the chain" began playing in the background. you bobbed your head along to the music as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards your apartment. the drive was quiet and comfortable until you realized she was pulling up to your building.

“hey, you can let me out here," you told her. the car came to a stop in front of your place, and you turned to her. “thanks again for everything. i know i keep saying it, but i really mean it."

“of course, don’t mention it, im glad i got to,” she smiled towards you as you opened the door and went to get out but she said something that stopped you in your tracks.

“you know im at a disadvantage you know my name but i don’t know yours, care to tell me or do you just want me to call you sweetheart forever?” she said.

you got out of her car, shut the door and rested your hands on the door across the rolled down windows and told her your name. you started to walk away when you turned around and told her one last thing before you went inside.

“but i prefer sweetheart if you do.”

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #tlou series #ellie tlou #pedro pascal #tlou game #tlou2 #ellie williams series #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us

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niniiko · 7 months

Text

Astrology Observations

*not a profesional astrologer these are just my personal observations

🎀 Leo risings with Saturn in Cancer individuals tend to not like being the center of attention and actually dislike being in the spotlight, they also tend to be shy individuals (all depends on the different placements!!!)

🎀 You tend to enjoy doing daily activities such as cooking, taking a walk, going grocery shopping etc... with the sign that falls in your 6th house, the 6th house is all about daily activities and collegues so if you have an Aquarius 6th house you might enjoy doing daily activities with Aquarius placements

🎀 People who have a LOT of 5th house synastry might have a very intense yet short relationship and if the south node or moon is also aspecting it they could still miss or remember each other for a very long time

🎀 Scorpio moons always have this darkness in their face, they are very intimidating if they are not speaking or smiling, these individuals also tend to have very dark or bushy eyebrows

🎀 If you have an 11th house stellium you could either be very detached from your friends to the point of ghosting them or very close to your friends to the point of thinking of them as your family, these people usually need companionship to be stable and can get lonely and sad if they don't have friends

🎀 Gemini mercuries always have this high-pitched tone of voice, whenever they talk it seems as if they are smiling while talking and i think it's very very cute

🎀 Taurus placements usually show affection through actions not words

🎀 Mars conjunction pluto individuals have a lot of stamina if they are tired they are quick to recharge energies (depending on the sign and its aspects)

🎀 Pisces placements and their eyes or lips . . . they have the prettiest eyes ever and their lips are either very plump or small but they always have something beautiful to them that may be shape, color . . . (could also apply to people who have pisces degrees 12° 24° in their big three, sun moon or rising)

🎀 Virgo placements (Sun, moon, rising and even virgo degrees 6° & 18°) like to do things correct and perfectly or they rather not do it all, they are extremely perfectionist and if something doesn't turn out they way they wanted they can get pretty frustrated with themselves, this is a reminder to be patient with yourself ♥️

🎀 Capricorn over the 3rd house and the way they are so passionate about their goals and studies??? They are always so hard working and they want to be the best in their class, typical bookworm that nobody talks to and everyone thinks they are stupid but they are actually a smartass

🎀 Unevolved Aries placements find it hard to own up to their mistakes and say sorry

🎀 Air moons are always analyzing every single emotion until they become numb, you are not a robot, you are allowed to feel emotions, they are teachers, pay attention to them

🎀 Libra moon over the 11th house might evade conflict with their friends, they despise having fights with friends

🎀 Cancer mercuries most of the time have such femenine and cute voices

🎀 Scorpio moon with an Aquarius MC (midheaven) could be interested in psychology, this is because Scorpio wants to know everything thats hidden, they want to know the unseen and Aquarius is a very humanitarian sign, they want to help society for the better and with the help of Scorpio they make a very great combination for psychologists or someone whos interested in psychology

🎀 Virgo risings love to look put together and even if they didnt put any effort into their appearance they always seem to manage how to look good

🎀 Earth mars women tend to like doing a natural makeup type of look or they don't wear makeup at all

🎀 If someones rising sign is your venus sign there could be some form of jealousy from the venus person towards the rising sign person, but it could go both ways

🎀 Nobody will understand you better than someone who has the same moon sign as you, you will always feel safe and at home with them, it's like you've known them for forever, people who share this placement usually have a one in a billion type of connection

🎀 You might disagree a lot of times with someone who has their mercury in opposition to yours, you might not share the same views in a topic and it's hard to get along with them

🎀 You look up to someone who has their moon in the sign of your 10th house

#astrology #astro observations #zodiac signs #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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xiaoseminence · 1 year

Text

𓆩✬𓆪 𝕋𝕖𝕪𝕧𝕒𝕥’𝕤 ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥 𓆩✬𓆪 (𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕊𝔸𝔾𝔸𝕌)

Summary ➵✬ When you wake up atop a golden altar, surrounded by the beloved characters from your favorite game, you will learn how far their fervent devotion truly goes. (Harem, GN pronouns) Warnings ➵✬ Heavy Yandere, Worship / Religious practices, Dark Topics, Slighty Mature / Suggestive scenes

“May the sacrifices we offer you appease you, our beloved creator. In these times of hardship, please guide us and lend us your strength”

The words reverberated in the hall, making it seem as though they were coming from all around you. You hadn’t opened your eyes, and yet an almost blinding ray of golden light was visible even through your closed lids. You barely registered the horrified gasps and shouts of astonishment as the strong smell of incense burned your lungs with each breath.

Was this… Death? The last thing you remembered was a train speeding towards you, headed for an inevitable collision. By the time you even noticed it, it was clear that you wouldn’t manage to escape its trajectory - too engrossed in the game you were playing on your phone to save yourself.

The people you knew always thought that death would be painless, a void empty of emotions or sound. And yet… Why was it this loud? By now the gasps had been replaced by hectic shuffling, too many muffled voices yelling over each other to the point that you couldn’t make out a single word. As if you had just emerged from a frozen lake, your senses suddenly returned to you all at once - brain now on high alert. Where were you? With a movement so fast that it made your head throb painfully, you ripped open your eyes and sat up. As soon as your lashes parted to take in the sight in front of you, your (e/c) orbs were met with shimmering cores of gold and ruby.

It took you a second to realize that you were face to face with a person, as their skin as pale as moonlight and eyes as crystalline as jewels made it easy to mistake them for a delicately crafted statue. Yet your shock seemingly couldn’t compare to that of the man, who visibly trembled to the point that his legs gave out under him.

He fell to his knees, and then… he lowered his head so far that it barely touched the stone floor beneath. As your eyes quickly darted around the room to make any sense of this situation, you were met with many other people following the example of the man in front of you. Some of them fell to their knees in an instant, creating a loud thud that echoed in the large, temple-like building, while others lowered their gaze in more of a demure manner, letting their bodies slowly follow suit as they sank to the ground.

Where were you? And why did the man in front of you seem so familiar? His golden eyes, brown hair tied with a black ribbon, and elegant attire were connected to something in your memories, yet said memory evaded you like a word stuck at the tip of your tongue.

“Your grace-”, his breath shuddered as he spoke, yet his voice held a sense of desperation. “Thank you for honoring your worshippers with your presence”. You tried to speak, ask what kind of twisted afterlife you’d been sent to, when his next words caused your thoughts to fly into a frenzy.

“Your first apostle, Rex Lapis, is forever at your service. Command me as you wish, your grace”

Rex Lapis? This couldn’t be true. And yet… it made too much sense for you to deny it. He looked just like the character you had managed to acquire just last week, after hours and weeks of your time poured into collecting as many primogems as you could. And… you could have sworn that you heard someone mention the word “Teyvat” when you first gained consciousness in this… hall.

It was as time had frozen still, as no one dared to move a muscle or even so much as breathe. When your eyes fell onto a statue at the far end of the temple, you too froze in place. It was your face. Etched into immaculate white stone. The statue depicted a person sat on a throne, long robes draped around their body and pooling at their feet. Even as a statue, the cloth was depicted perfectly. And even if the mighty posture and perfectly dignified expression did not resemble your current state at all… it was unmistakably your face staring back at you with lifeless eyes made of marble.

“Ningguang?” As if to test your theory, you had spoken the first name that came to your mind when you looked at the audience. There were many people, hundreds, maybe even thousands - but you had spotted her form kneeling in the very front row. Her attire was different from what she wore in the game, her white and golden dress was replaced by a red hanfu. But her long hair, which was colored like freshly fallen snow, with a red tassel tied to it was just like you had first seen her in the game.

At the mention of her name, she seemed to flinch a little in surprise, before she dutifully raised her head, albeit not fully. She lifted it only to the point of being able to gaze up at you, her ruby eyes peering through long white lashes, glinting expectantly.

“Yes, your grace?”

You couldn’t believe it. It was real. But… What would you do now? They seemed to revere you as maybe royalty - or even a deity. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself just a moment to force your brain into thinking of a plan - any course of action that would seem reasonable and not put you in danger. For the start, this should be simple - play along while you discover more about this world around you. The only problem was… how would you play along when you didn’t know what they expected of you.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Reminiscing back to the moment you first woke up in this world is something that nowadays, you didn’t do often. On occasion you wondered whether you would have done anything differently, knowing what was to come. Though, as you now rested in the arms of one of your consorts, half aware of the sugary promises of love and servitude they whispered into your ears, you didn’t regret it as much. Yet the road leading to this state of peace in your mind and acceptance of your situation had been a very long one. ➵✬ to be continued

Word count ➵✬ 1.05k

#yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin cult au #genshin impact cult au #genshin sagau #sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sentient #sagau cult au #genshin impact sagau #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere tighnari #yandere scaramouche #yandere wanderer #x reader #reader insert #yandere headcanons

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wishluc · 11 months

Note

Can I request a yandre blade and kafka silently in a tug of war for the readers attention (btw the reader is a stellaron hunter being chill like silver wolf)

I adore them Ahhhhh Blade's characterisation is based purely off my impression of him :O

With Kafka seated so close to you, you were surprised that nobody had contacted the authorities yet. The three of you were treated like any other customer in the quaint restaurant, despite your companions having their faces plastered all over Starskiff Haven, and you had yet to be approached by furious soldiers or, if your luck had finally run out, the General himself.

Though you think that if anyone were to attempt to apprehend Kafka, it would make for quite the spectacle. You can already picture the unconcerned expression she'd have, her lips still smiling, her gaze piercing, and her form completely relaxed, and the words she would say to the poor fool—laced with just a hint of mock surprise—before making her way out of the building. At least they'd be alive; if Blade were to get involved...well, you were just glad that his unsettling presence was enough to ward off any justice-driven warrior.

Starwatcher Avenue was gorgeous, without a doubt. In the short time you had been there, you had fallen in love with the bustling streets and the lovely cuisine, though most of your days so far were spent hidden away and waiting for Blade. Despite this, you were really looking forward to leave the Flagship, the anxiety that followed you with being associated with two wanted criminals too much to bear. At least back on your ship, you could easily evade the authorities sent after the Stellaron Hunters.

Kafka, however, was clearly in no rush. She lounged around most of the time, sometimes taking you out for a meal or to go shopping, and appeared to have no worries regarding her status. Even though Blade had regrouped with you, she was still insistent on staying, attempting to placate your troubled heart with sweet, whispered promises and firm assurances. Today's trip was also her way of proving to you that you were in no danger, and you almost believed her.

But you recently realized that living in constant fear of being arrested was nothing compared to the troubles awaiting you. It could be much worse. It could be staying with Blade.

You could...manage, with Kafka. She was unpredictable, at times, but you could rest assured that she'd never put you in harm's way. She never told you what she was planning, forcing you to rely on her cunning words, but you were familiar enough with her by now to know what she expected, and how to appease her. You could play into her desires, smile at her clever quips and lean into her possessive hold, and she would find delight in it all, even though she was aware of your intentions. She liked your little schemes, though it was no use plotting against her—Kafka was always a step ahead, always prepared to pull you back to her side and remind you of just who she was.

Blade, however, was a complete enigma to you.

You weren't very familiar with the other Hunter, having spent most of your time being lugged around by Kafka, but even the little time you spent with him had already convinced you that there was something frightening about him. You think it might be his dark eyes, seemingly seeing through your every action, which, coupled with his habit of staring at you, never failed to unnerve you. Your first encounter with him, too, left you shaking—you'd never forget the sensation of cool metal pressing against your skin, his sharp gaze locked on you with the slightest curl of his lips. You could never tell what he wanted from you.

He had smiled at you when you were tasked with wrapping new bandages around his hand shortly after his escape, and asked if you came all the way to the Xianzhou Luofu just to see him (You remember the sound of his laughter when you turned to look at Kafka in response, and you remember how something inside you stirred at the mesmerising sight). But he had yet to pull you into his arms, or smother you with affectionate words and thinly veiled threats, and you weren't quite sure what to make of him. You could only hope that his interest in you was short lived—it was tiring enough to keep Kafka placated.

"Open up, darling," Kafka's smooth voice breaks you out of your trance.

She holds a silver spoon out, a small piece of the pudding she ordered balancing carefully on it. You quickly obey, letting her feed you despite the shame that lingered when you notice Blade's curious gaze directed at you.

"Why aren't you that well behaved for me?" You freeze at Blade's remark, the dessert in your mouth suddenly tasting like sand.

Kafka chuckles, putting down the spoon in favor for placing her hand on your cheek. She gently directs you to face Blade, the man regarding you with blatant fascination.

"Why, Bladie?" Kafka's gloved fingers trace your bottom lip, "Are you jealous?"

"You're always so stiff around me," he muses, "but here you are, acting as the perfect pet for her."

"That's because we are well acquainted," you catch a wicked glint In Kafka's eyes, "It's not an act," she taps at your cheek, "is it?"

You shake your head silently, and Kafka's smile widens. Blade's displeasure is obvious in the slight frown on his face and the glare focused at where Kafka's touching you, and you start to regret picking sides.

"How cruel."

You lean back into your seat, suddenly feeling suffocated by the tense air that enveloped the table. For a moment, you swear you catch the slightest twitch of Blade's lips, but you're immediately distracted by Kafka's displeased frown.

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the tension, "When will we be returning?"

"We still have matters to conclude here," Blade informs you.

Your heart sinks, but you try your hardest to hide your disappointment, "I thought we were only here for..." You glance at him, "for Blade?"

Kafka's hand had found its way to your thigh while your attention was elsewhere, her fingers splayed over your clothes, "We need to wait for the Express crew, my dear. You can be patient a little while longer, no?"

You nod, and watch as she takes a bite of the pudding for herself, the spoon in her mouth for a moment too long before she placed it down again. You turn to look outside the window instead, not wanting to meet her gaze after that display, and instead catch sight of a familiar tall figure. Around him are multiple guards in uniform, and you can already see passersby begin to whisper amongst themselves while surveying the scene. You're reminded of the posters drawn in red ink, and the fate awaiting you if you get caught. They'd want to interrogate you, wouldn't they? To your side, Kafka stands up, carefully placing her coat over her shoulders before glancing down at you with her hand outstretched. A part of you wishes you could be as composed as her by everything, but her lack of concern came from a place of confidence, in her own ability and Elios' plan. You have neither—all you can trust in is your companions. You take her hand and get up, forcing yourself to hide your growing fear. Kafka strolls out of the exit, and you follow suit, making your way out of the building and back into the streets of Starwatcher Avenue. You don't look back to see where Blade is, assuming he had disappeared into the crowd already.

As the usual protocol in situations like this, you separate from Kafka (She has insisted, before, that you never leave her side regardless of the circumstances, but you know better than to comply), and start to find your own way back to your hideout, but as you make your way down the large staircase, a hand brushes against the small of your back and a figure appears beside you. If he noticed the way you stiffened up at his touch, Blade didn't comment on it, simply falling into step with you, as though he was always there.

"This way," he instructs, moving you towards an inconspicuous alleyway between some stalls. You don't want to follow him, but with the looming threat behind you, you can't afford to attract any more attention to yourself, so you let his hand rest on you and follow his lead.

"Don't be afraid," he whispers, lips brushing against your ear, "nobody uses this path. This way, we'll have plenty of time to get...acquainted"

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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My Heart Breaks Pt. 2

Warning: Angst then Fluff

Buggy X FemReader

Support me on Ko-Fi

Part 1

Replaced the Photo! Cause this was too perfect! Art belongs to Vamos_MK on twitter!!

You stared up at the blue sky with a tired sigh, finally you were free.. Over two fucking decades it had taken to escape and you did it God damn it!

For the last 20 years you had been imprisoned in the Impel Down- It had been awful yo say the least.. constantly you were trying to protect yourself and saw that the man who had sent you here had been extra cruel in doing so- well not you but the women who you took her place..

You still felt guilt in knowing she had died in your place.. but you couldnt help but be greatful she had wanted to die due to her cause in an accidental death. You hoped in her afterlife she was happy..

However death was definitely kinder then the prison- with monsters at every turn and trying to keep sex deprived prisoners from trying to have their way with you it had been a battle. You had scratched, fought and squeezed your way out of that hellhole.

After a changing of guards you had managed to slip out- unlike most of the prisoners in the Impel Down you had the enate abilies to swim so you did. Stealing a dingy that a negligent marine most likely left behind you made it out. Paddling like your life depended on it sway from that place, however you were in no position to cry in relief yet.

It was another 2 days of paddling before you manages to get to an island. Starving and dehydrated you snuck to the back end of the tiny island so no one saw your prison uniform. Stealing some berries and a pair of clothes from a small cottage you made it through the village, it was clear this place was poor- you blended in with the people who were just as hungry as you and with less berries then you had nabbed.

You went into a pub getting what you could afford, which was bread and cheese and a ale. You took these and stood outside to eat your meal which tasted no better then ash in your mouth.

Looking around you saw two better dressed men walk out of the pub, batting a poor boy on the back and laughing. Congratulating him for joining their merchant ship- catching your ear you finished your meal and drink quickly, following the men. Seeing a large ship with a line of young men wanting to join the ship for a better life and opportunity, so you join them.

Once you reached to the top of the ship, a old man held out a cane to your chest to keep you from moving forward.

"What do you want lady?-" The old Captian sneered at you, Glaring down at your dirty form.

"You're looking for sailors correct?" You say sharply, Taking a steady breath to still your nerves.

"What can a thing like you do on a ship? Do you even have sailing experience?" The Captian laughed in your face. You clenched your fist and glared hard at the asshole.

"Yes I have sailed since I was young- I can.. do cleaning and maintance" You lied a bit- not talking about your skills as a thief since this is just a merchant and not pirates like you were used to. The Captian stared at you for a moment before sighing with a shrug.

"Fine- Welcome to the May's Fairy Lady" He grumbled as he gestured for you to get on board. Sighing in relief as you had a way to sea and a income.

However that was better said then in reality-

To say the merchant ship was terrible as well had been an understatement- It was like the Impel Down all over again.. a group of touch starved and angry men who saw you as an easy target. Thankfully due to your skills you were able to evade any advances, during the day you would stay in the Lower Deck to avoid the men, cleaning and eating the stale bread and water you snagged not trusting the cook since he liked to Leer at you far too long.

At night you would travel to the Main Deck and clean up there and sleep till dawn or if the ship rocked a bit too hard. This had been your like for 3 months till one evening.

While mopping the floor of the deck you looked up at the dark sky, remembering the night with Buggy before that big heist. Grabbing him and kissing his suddently as a way to express your interest in him... your heart hurt at remembering his face when you saw him last at the bars of the window, Placing your bandana and kissing a kiss on the back of his hand.

Snapping you from your melancholy thoughs was a loud bang, seeing what looked like a firework shoot up right above you. Several crew mates from below deck also came up at hearing the noise, you watched the firework come directly on top of the ship before exploding in a cloud of red- It was beautiful. Your favorite shade of red too. The crew began to panic at seeing this as the cloud settled on the ship, you felt woozy and uneasy on your feet before you fell to the damp ground before darkness took you a large shadowy form of a ship came closer and you swore you heard circus music.

Groaning you felt yourself sitting up, a harsh digging from metal against your ankles and wrist. Jerking awake you saw you were seated in wooden benches in a dark room, Hearing the groaning and panic of others around you. You pulled at the chains slightly but winced at how tight they were.

Suddently bright lights turned on, You saw your crew chained up and seated next to you staring at a lowered stage. Your breath picking up as circus music started up, watching as different acts come up- it was almost exactly like how you remembered the show you went to in your childhood? Like someone recreating it from memory? People pulled out sighs to applaud which you saw the merchant nervously do.

"No No NO! It's wrong! That is not how a crowd should clap!" You heard a sharp voice say, walking onto the stage- He looked like a pirate Captian and not apart of the circus. You did see clown paint on his face and a red clown nose- which made your eyes narrow at the sight.

Your eyes focused on the grown man- Watching as he commanded the crowd with a twisted smile and yelled at the circus people. He sighed dramtically and looked in the direction of the crowd- chastising them for their lack of enthusiasm and not laughing with the cues. However the wind felt like it was knocked from your lungs.. You knew those eyes.. that blue hair expertly tucked away and real rounded red nose.

"Bugs?" You called out loud by accident- You saw his whole body freezes mid step. A twitch seemed to have shot through his system as your merchant crew mates all looked back at you with a mixture of pity and fear. You swallow a nervous lump as he did a slow turn in your direction, your face still clouded in shadows by the lack of lights in the audience section. Doing a silent hand movement his crewmates assended on you, yanking you from your restraints roughly and pulling you to the stage with little grace and tossing you at Buggy's feet. Rubbing your swore wrist you looked up at your childhood friend through your mess of hair.

"What the Hell Bugs? Shackles!? When the fuck do you use Mph!-" You were cut off as he grabbed your face hard tp pull you to your feet, his eyes wide and overly dilated like he was seeing a ghost. You actually felt afraid? His eyes seemed different and there was a unknown emotion behind them, you tried to wiggle free but he held you firmly taking his free hand and pushing the hair from your face fully at seeing your face you see it looks like all the air has been sucked from his lungs and he releases you quickly, you stumble back barely able to catch yourself as he stares at you with wide eyes.

"You're alive?..." He said in utter shock. You nod and cough a bit as you rub your sore jaw from his grasp. You open your mouth to speak but he holds a hand to you to silence you. His eyes looking more like what you remembered, that swirl of never ending emotions.

"Cabaji- Take her to be washed, fed and dressed. Leave her in my quarters" He commanded, the green man nodded heavily and grabbed you far gentler now to lead you off stage.

Just as instructed a group of people washed you up in a massive copper bath with nice hot water, dressed you in simple trousers and a tunic and quickly dropped you off with a plate on the end table of the large bedroom.

Seated in a massive bed you look down at the hot plate set before you, your manners thrown out the window as you tucked in. Having been far too long since you had a hot filling meal-

Without thinking you rapidly start eating it, it tasted like heaven enough for tears to well in your eyes as you ate. Before long the plate was gone- and you felt nauseous, yout mistake of eating too quickly and food you hadn't experienced in 20 years. You scrambled up to the nearest trashcan and began to vomit- so hard you didn't hear the door open. Only when a gentle hand touched your back which made you flitch and turn around to see Buggy, his eyes wide at your reaction before your body lurches and you vomited again. Buggy held your hair back this time as you vomited into the poor trashcan.

"Sorry... it's been a while since I got a hot meal" You admitted, spitting the taste of bile away from your lips as you sat back.

"It really is you" Buggy said in disbelief still, Getting down on his knees next to you as he looked over you. How you looked so unhealthy and weak- even after being cleaned he could see that abuse had done its work on you.

"Dear Gods... What happened to you?..." Buggy voice finally cracked, his hand reaching out and cupping your cheek his thumb running over the heavy bags under your eyes and the new scars that had set on your face.

"...I survived" You say softly, Leaning into his warm touch feeling tears begin to fall. In seconds Buggy held you tightly in his arms, your face pressed against his chest as ragged sobs left you, maybe it was finally being free from both jail and the hardships on that awful merchant ship but feeling Buggy's arms around you holding you close just finally released that emotional valve and you cried.. Harder then you had in your entire life into his chest.

You felt his hands smooth over your messy hair and rock you side to side as you sobbed against him. You tried to speak but sobbing nonsense was all that left you and was mumbled through Buggy's shirt.

After almost an hour of crying against Buggy you had worn yourself out, sniffling against him as he gently pulled back to look at your reddened face. His own makeup having dripped away from his red eyes- clearly he had been crying too while holding you.

He wiped your face with his gloved hand and laid kisses on your forehead to comfort you.

"You never have to just survive again... I-Im sorry (Y/N) I couldn't save you" His voice cracked at that, you shook your head.

"I-It would have been impossible. You two would have been killed..." You say with a sniffling tone, trying to control your tone and keep from crying again. Buggy asked what had happened, as you told him the story of your escape, prison time, the pain you had suffered and how you'd escaped to be hired by those merchants. He listened dead silent the whole time his hands rubbing circles in your arms to comfort you. However you saw the rage in his eyes at the pain you'd gone through.

Once done explaining yourself he nodded at this, like he was trying to find the words to explain but couldn't. Instead just giving a bitter chuckle at this, shaking his head in anger. He reached up and took off his hat with a angry sigh and tossed it aside. Your eyes catching the bandana underneath and reaching a hand out to touch the fabric.

"You kept that?.. after all these years?" You whispered confused, the anger on his face leaving as he heard this and left your touch. Reaching up and gently pulling off the old bandana for you to see.

"Of course- you gave it to me... W-When you... left. I was destroyed" He admitted, you stared at him with tears starting to fall from you again.

"I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing the face that had let you down.. so I changed- I smiled for you, wore your favorite red and became Buggy the Clown"

He said with a chuckle and gestured to himself. You bit your lip to keep from crying more, he wiped your tears away with a shaky breath.

"You did that for me? Why?" You whispered, he stared at you silently before having a nervous smile.

"I love you"

His words made your heart skip- like that spark of life from when you were 15 had hit you again. Your eyes met his, he also seemed taken aback by his admittance.

"You love me?" You questioned, seeing him nervously mess with his gloves. He always did have little nervous tics like this whenever he was in a odd position, however peeling off one of his gloves to dig his nail into his palm he nodded. You reached forward and took his hand into your own to keep him from harming his hand further.

"Well I'd hope so after giving you my first kiss on that little boat"

You both giggled at this. You rubbing your thumb on his naked palm, seeing the deep scars that covered his hands- like he had dug his nails into them so many times that his palms was covered in smiley faces.

"Of course, didn't hurt it was my first kiss too" He chuckled but you winked at him.

"Don't lie, I remember the story of you and Shanks running on deck and your guys mouth smashing together. That counted" Buggy shiffered in disgust at the memory and wrinkled his face which made you laugh.

"That doesn't count!" He protest which earned more laughter from you, he smiled widely at this.

"Sooo if both of us are still interested, Would you like to continue what should have been?" You asked, giving him a blushing smile which he returned. A big Goofy grin on his face-

"Well, let's get you healthier first. What about a dinner date?" He suggested, almost giddy and you could see that same boy you once knew under that makeup again.

"Sounds perfect"

TAG LIST:

@oxbunnehxo @starsali @avatar-lover @severesongstarfish @flooftoof @lavalampskyy @blogname-18 @ven1cez

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #bugg

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catsnkooks · 1 year

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strip poker (pt. 1)

Task Force 141 (and Los Vaqueros) x fem!reader

Summary: It started simply. An invitation out to the base for just a night of drinking since some of Soap’s buddies from Mexico were in the U.K. for a visit. You had just planned to tag along as his plus one for the night and enjoy some drinks with his old military buddies.

But then Soap’s CO, Price, brought out some cards.

Tags: afab reader/fem pronouns/anatomy, unprotected PIV sex, riding that vaquero, naked reader, clothed male, voyeurism, EVENTUAL ORGY I PROMMIE, 18+ smut beyong this point

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: hellooooooo the long awaited fic of strip poker that was all started from this ask. this is just a part one (of 2 parts bc y'all wanted the orgy....sigh) and i thought i'd give rudy some love bc he doesn't seem to get a whole lot <3

find it on ao3 here!

next part

It started simply. An invitation out to the base for just a night of drinking since some of Soap’s buddies from Mexico were in the U.K. for a visit. You had just planned to tag along as his plus one for the night and enjoy some drinks with his old military buddies.

But then Soap’s CO, Price, brought out some cards, a twinkle in his eye as he looked at you and suggested a round of poker. You then confessed that you didn’t know how to play poker, much to everyone’s apparent amusement. Soap’s friend, Gaz, sat next to you and offered to help teach you the basics of poker. But after a disastrous first three games, in which you were beaten royally by everyone else at the table, you were ready to give up, before Soap declared he wanted to up the ante, a dangerous glint in his eye, and suggested they switch to strip poker. You just rolled your eyes at Soap’s suggestion, but the other men in the room nodded with a few chuckles, overruling you.

“I feel like this is a setup,” you grumbled, pulling in your new cards as Price dealt them.

“Just an incentive to win, hen,” Soap said, his teasing grin giving away his true motivation.

After a few starting rounds of the new game mode with you soundly losing, they made a deal with you; they got to pick which article of clothing you took off if they won, you got to pick who stripped if you won. You agreed, though at that point, you were down to your shirt, pants, and everything underneath, having exhausted your “shoes and socks count as one article of clothing” argument.

Not that it helped you, as you seemed to be losing consistently. Though Soap seemed to be the second worst player, so you got him down to his pants at least. Ghost, Soap’s L.t., was winning and had all of his clothes, while the rest had lost just a couple of pieces.

You finally folded when they got you down to your bra and panties, now just resigning to sit back and watch. But then they argued that whoever wins got to tell you what to take off. You just rolled your eyes, but went along with it.

When Ghost won, again, he told you to take the bra off. you did, but you kept an arm over your breasts, so they were still sort of covered. They all groaned at that, tired of the teasing.

“C'mon, hen, let us see,” Soap whined.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you removed your arm. But when they all moaned appreciatively and Gaz, nearest to you, tried to make a move, you swatted him away. “New rules, boys: you can look, but you can’t touch yet.”

So, it was back to more whining and groaning.

But soon, Price won the next hand, and his eyes drilled into you. “Panties off, love,” he ordered, every bit of the captain, then patted his lap. “C'mere.”

You stood and shucked off your panties, tossing them to Rudy who was on your other side. Somehow you managed to evade Alejandro's hands and on your way to Price's lap. His hands were around your waist as soon as you sat down, possessive and low.

“New rules,” he growled out against your neck. “Whoever wins gets to fuck her while the rest watch. Got it?”

You gasped as he started to play with your nipples, while the rest nodded eagerly. Gaz dealt the next hand, his gaze barely getting ripped away as you squirmed on Price’s lap as he teased you. You vaguely looked at the cards in Price’s hand--nothing too terribly round-winning--but you couldn’t pay too much attention with the way that his talented fingers plucked at the sensitive parts of your body.

It was perhaps the most tense game of poker that night, now that you were part of the reward for winning. Alejandro cursed and threw down his hand as he folded during the second round. Price folded more calmly after him, satisfied enough with teasing you.

Rudy ended up winning the final round, leaning back with a smug grin while everyone else cursed and threw their cards at the table. His eyes were dark and lidded as he turned his gaze to you, patting his lap.

“C’mere, cariño,” he purred.

You stood on shaky legs, supporting yourself with Price’s arm he offered out. You could feel six pairs of eyes on you as you made your way over to Rudy. He held out his arms to you as you slid into his lap, one leg on either side of his legs. He hummed, his hands wandering over your naked skin to cup your breasts and press his face between them. He rubbed his thumbs over your nipples, staring up at you with his dark eyes when you gasped and wriggled in his grasp.

“So sensitive, cariño,” he murmured, drawing a nipple into his mouth, lathing his tongue over the sensitive nub.

You moaned, rubbing your cunt over the steadily growing bulge in his pants. “Mm, Rudy…”

He popped off of your nipple, snaking a hand down between your bodies to rub at your clit. “Gonna be a good girl for me? Mi chula buena?”

You nodded, biting your lip as sparks of pleasure rocketed up through your body. “Mm, yes, Rudy, please.” He inserted a finger into your slowly soaking cunt and you moaned, throwing your head back, as he soon reached that spongy spot inside of you that you could never reach with your own fingers. “Oh, Rudy, please! Please, please fuck me.”

He chuckled, a low, growly sound, removing his hand from inside you to unzip his pants, covering his leaking cock with your slick. “Shh, cariño, you’ll get what you want, prometo.” He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit, then slowly pushed into your cunt.

You let out a high pitched moan as Rudy’s cock slowly filled you. He groaned into your neck, hips hitching into your tight heat as he buried himself to the hilt. “Fuck, cariño, you’re so fucking tight, fucking squeezing me.” He cut off with another groan when you clenched around him at his words.

Someone whined behind you, but you could hardly pay any attention to anything else but Rudy’s thick cock slowly rearranging your insides. You clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the taut muscles there. Your thighs quivered as you lifted your hips and then sank back down with a whine. Rudy gripped your hips in a bruising hold, helping you bounce on his cock.

“Oh, fu-uck, Rudy!”

He groaned, drawing your nipple into his mouth once again, drawing out high-pitched moans from you as he did. “Fuck, so good, cariño, so, so good for me. Fuck, feel so good, taking me like this.”

You whined and bounced faster on his cock, tossing your head back as the thrill and pleasure coursed through your body. Rudy’s talented mouth switched back and forth between your nipples while one hand remained on your hip to guide you, the other buried in the space between your bodies, rubbing your clit in smooth, consistent circles.

“Ohh, Rudy--please!”

“Shh, just keep going, cariño,” Rudy growled against your tits, gaze dark and intense as he stared up at you. “You’re being so good for me, mi chula buena--fuck--I’m so close.”

Your fingers gripped the hair at the base of his scalp, holding his head flush against your breasts so his mouth could continue its ministrations. You bounced even faster on his cock, angling your hips so the head brushed over that sensitive spot deep inside you with each thrust.

“Oh, fuck, Rudy, I’m gonna cum!”

He groaned against your skin, hands holding your hips with a bruising grip as he thrust up into you. “Fu-uck, I’m close, too, cariño. C’mon, cum for me, so, so good.”

You gasped and moaned sweetly as his words tipped you over the edge, melting into his embrace as you rode out your high. Rudy groaned, hips hitching into your tight warmth as his orgasm followed soon after yours.

He ran a hand up your spine to cup the back of your head, holding it for support as he scooted his chair away from the table. Then, he stood, making you gasp as his cock shifted inside of you, before he laid you on the table. All the men around you groaned as you were laid out on display for them, while Gaz and Ghost took the opportunity to hold your legs open as Rudy pulled out, moaning at the sight of his cum dripping out of your soaking cunt.

You panted as six pairs of hands roamed over your body, sparks of lust slowly rekindling deep in your core despite the fact that you had just cum. You leaned up on your elbows, giving the six men a shaky grin.

“So who’s ready for round two?”

#things kooks says #my writing #cod mwii #smut #18+#cod fanfic #johnny soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #reader insert

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claymoresword · 1 month

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I Choose Her | Stand-Alone Series Chapter: 1

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Prompt: Hermione gets jealous as she catches you flirting with someone else, but it ends in a heartfelt exchange between the two of you.

Wordcount: 1.6k

Warnings: romilda vane gets rejected like canon, y/n & hermione are soulmates its confirmed, no plot just fluff

Note: a little something to tide you guys over while i work on the final chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

Taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @cocoyeehaw @blackbirdv98 @arcturusseer @iamcapitalgbicorn8287 @lonewalker17 @karasonromanoff @httphayn @bigbadsofty07 @cherryflavoredcoke @dumpsapphic @idontwannabehereatm @js-a-writer @baylegend6 @puta1 @t-wylia @raven-ss @unexpected-character @aki-ham @brocoliisscared

You harshly shove the Hufflepuff seeker out of the way, he doesn't budge, not until you shoulder him again. This time it unsteadies his broom, in an effort to not lose his balance, he falls back, leaving you alone in pursuit of the Golden Snitch.

You manage to locate the snitch once more, the golden ball just a few paces out of reach, as you extend your hand, you can feel its wing fluttering violently against your fingertips As you attempt to grab it, the flying ball quickly changes course trying to evade you, but you still manage to follow closely behind.

"Come on." You mutter under your breath, you are so close, the ball is practically yours.

Coincidentally, a large gust of wind graces your flight path at just the right moment. You take full advantage of it, picking up a bit of momentum, just enough to trap the Golden Snitch in your grasp.

You then whisk yourself around on the broom to face the stands, stubbornly the Snitch tries to wriggle free, but you hold it firmly still.

A large roar erupts from the audience as you hold up your prize for all to see. They were cheering for you.

The sound is exhilarating, intoxicating. It makes you feel invisible– but there was only one person's cheer worth taking notice.

In a sea of Gryffindors, you find Hermione's gaze. Your grin widens, and she smiles right back at you.

Soon enough an involuntarily blush covers your cheeks, and you are forced to look away.

"Y/n has caught the Golden Snitch. Slytherin wins!"

═══════════════════════════════════════════

The celebration continues well into the evening in the Slytherin common room. Students from all houses fill the space, taking advantage of the unlimited amounts of liquor and butter beer available.

Crabbe and Blaise insist on parading you on their shoulders for the dozenth time tonight, it seems the more intoxicated they get, the harder they find the task of leaving you alone.

“Y/n!, Y/n!, Y/n!” The crowd continues to chant beneath you, and you can only allow yourself to enjoy the moment. Even though the incessant attention from everyone tonight was starting to peeve you slightly.

The only person you wanted to spend time with tonight is Hermione– yet she is nowhere to be found.

“Alright, put me down guys.” You raise your voice over the commotion, and your friends finally oblige, taking you off their shoulders, you let out a breath of relief once your feet touch flat ground.

“If you keep it up, Y/n, we'll win all the games this season.” Pansy claims, her voice closer to a shout.

You merely give her a nod, taking her words for a compliment and nothing more. Deliberately ignoring the sudden sense of crippling responsibility that's been set upon you.

You find yourself looking through the crowd once more, hoping to spot a familiar brown-eyed beauty.

Where is she?

You push through the sea of students, a few of them continue hurling praises at you and taking the opportunity to squeeze your shoulder as a version of acclamation.

By the time you reach the large window by the far side of the room, you are out of breath.

The spot you've escaped to is somewhat secluded, so you are given a chance to gain your bearings, as you silently observe the view of the black lake.

That is, until someone unwelcomed enters your space.

“You were amazing on the pitch today–” Romilda Vane says, standing an inch too close.

You catch a whiff of alcohol on her breath, and your effort to distance yourself fails as she merely sees it as an opportunity to step closer.

“Thanks, Romilda. I didn't realize you liked Quidditch.” You state dismissively, before scanning your surroundings again, for any indication of Hermione.

“I don't, not really..” She replies, and a bold hand on your shoulder snatches your attention once more.

“I like watching you though.” Romilda says, inching even closer, you watch as her gaze manages to find your lips for a moment.

Normally, you'd entertain such a blatant attempt at flirting, especially from someone so attractive– but tonight, you couldn't care less.

Hermione is the only girl you want complimenting you.

Romilda proceeds to brazenly caress your bicep, she gasps slightly after giving your firm muscle a squeeze.

“I bet you could easily lift me.” She remarks suggestively, and you let out a dismissive scoff, but this only urges her to continue eyeing you hungrily– a mere object she'd like to toy with.

“Perhaps we could find out–” You suggest, but immediately regret your effort in humoring her.

Romilda mistakes your words as an invitation. She leans in to meet your lips and you quickly swerve out of the way.

“Some other time.” You quip, subsequently catching sight of a familiar face in the distance You don't even bother letting Romilda down easily before chasing after her.

“Hermione!” You call out, but the Gryffindor is making it quickly through the crowd. It seemed shouting her name only motivated her to walk further away.

You finally catch up to her in the gallery, outside the common room, the door soon shuts behind you, and the two of you are left alone.

“Hey, slow down–” You say, finally grabbing hold of Hermione’s arm.

“Where are you going?” You ask, but when she turns to look at you, her hardened expression takes you aback.

“Are you alright?” Your ask of real concern is only met with an eye-roll. Hermione groans in frustration as she tries to wrench out of your hold.

“Let me go–” She asks sternly, and you do just that, but her demeanor continues to unnerve you. You could never bear it whenever she was upset with you.

Whatever it is, you plan to rectify it now.

“Hermione..” You coax gently, and the Gryffindor no longer makes the effort to walk away from you, instead she leans against the stone wall, her gaze fixed towards the ground.

You stuff your hands into your pockets as you made the conscious effort to not reach out for her again.

“You know you can talk to me– tell me what's wrong, darling. Was it something I did?” You try once more, and finally, she graces you with a lingering glance.

"Why are you with me? You could have any girl in the school.. anyone you wanted. So why me?” Hermione asks, the faint tremor in her voice breaks you, but you can't help the incredulous look that paints your features.

“Are you really asking me that?” You ask flippantly.

Your carelessness only makes visible tears well up in Hermione's eyes, and you immediately regret opening your mouth.

“Oh– no, I'm sorry. Come here.” You remark frantically, pulling Hermione closer by the waist, and she accepts your embrace.

“I'm sorry.” You repeat earnestly. She buries her face in the crook of your neck, despite herself.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me, do you?” You mutter, as you take in the scent of her hair.

Hermione pulls back to look at you expectantly, and you don't fight the urge to hold her face in both your hands, leaning in to kiss her deeply.

“I think you're brilliant.” You admit as your lips remain less than an inch apart.

“Really?” Hermione breathes out, and you can only smile.

“Yes.” You claim before tilting your head to kiss her jaw. “Being with you.. it's like a dream.” You continue, relishing at the feeling of Hermione shifting closer to feel more of you.

“A dream I never want to wake from.” You utter directly into her ear, before placing a kiss against it.

Hermione shudders in delight, her hand slips up your chest to the collar of your shirt, she clutches it, at an effort to steady herself.

You proceed to kiss her neck, and amidst a series of soft moans, Hermione utters something far more incriminating.

“I love you..” She says breathlessly, almost too soft to be real.

You feel her tense up as you halted the string of kisses you were leaving upon her skin, trying to process what you just heard.

“What did you just say?” You ask, pulling away so you could trap Hermione's gaze.

The evident blush upon her cheeks only causes your grin to widen.

“Nothing, I–” Hermione stutters, and you decide to help refresh her memory.

“You love me?” You ask, hopeful that she wouldn't deny it.

“Yes. Maybe.. I don't know.” She averts her eyes, and you have to bite your lip to stop from smiling too wide.

“Well, that's a relief. because I think, maybe, I love you too.” You respond, tucking a strand of hair behind Hermione's ear, and this makes her look at you again.

“Wait– you do?” Hermione asks, her manner ever unassuming. She is perfect, and she loves you.

“I love you like a madman.” You admit plainly, and her chuckle causes your heart to flutter violently in your chest. “Sometimes it feels like I can hardly do anything else besides love you.”

Hermione's expression visibly softens at your admittance, she leans in to kiss you again, you gladly welcome the sensation of her tongue entering your mouth.

“You make me feel things that I don't even understand sometimes.. but I just know that, I seem to never want to be away from you.”

Hermione utters after separating her lips from your own, her hand moves to the nape of your neck, and the other runs through your hair.

“I feel the same.” You state, placing a chaste kiss against her cheek.

“So let us never part, my love.”

#hermione granger imagine #hermione x reader #slytherin au #hermione granger #hermione granger x reader

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neocentral · 28 days

Text

rating: 18+. mdni.

content: implied noncon

jisung’s spoon fell from his fingers, the metal clanking against the ceramic bowl in front of him. his plump lips fell open, blood flowing to his puffy cheeks, “what?”

you repeated yourself, crossing your arms over your chest as discomfort settled in your chest. you suddenly felt ridiculous. the accusations suddenly sounded absurd even to your own ears.

jisung looked at you incredulously, panic and embarrassment painting his features. he looked like he wanted to leave, palms already flat on the table, eyes shifting around the small, enclosed dining room. a few long seconds passed before he finally spoke, “are you serious?”

jisung looked unsure, the rushing of his thoughts clear in his brown eyes. you would find his reaction suspicious if you didn’t know him. if his emotions weren’t so clear on his face. jisung’s aversion to confrontation was nothing new, most of your petty arguments stemmed from it. but there was something that made a nearly unnoticeable doubt creep into your mind.

you supposed the subject matter could also justify his strange actions. sex was never something jisung was comfortable with. after years of friendship you had yet to hear of a single sexual encounter involving them friend, not that you were particularly interested, but at the ripe age of twenty two, you couldn’t help but find it odd.

still, you felt foolish. jisung recoiled when you did something as simple as tap him on the shoulder. he would never dream of such a thing. between your legs was the last place jisung longed to be, it couldn’t have been him.

the entire night was unusual, an unsettling air loomed over you the second you stepped out of the door with jisung in tow. the feeling only growing more intense as the night progressed and jisung’s presence suddenly felt suffocating. he stuck to you like glue, likely seeking comfort from the overwhelming amount of people surrounding him. that was yet another reason why it could never have been jisung.

surely there was something you missed as the night came to an end. perhaps another man followed closely behind you, managing to evade an equally intoxicated jisung’s watchful eye. maybe another man had inconspicuously slipped through the door before jisung managed to lock it, finding your bedroom and lingering in the dark as he waited for your friend to tuck you in.

you hadn’t seen jisung leave, but then again, you were exhausted. your eyes fluttered shut before your head had even touched your pillow, your heavy body falling limp in jisung’s lean arms that held you like fragile glass.

the man that forced himself between your legs could never have jisung. the brutality your foggy brain is something you didn’t think jisung could be capable of. the sweet boy that stuck by your side year after year, the boy who refused to raise his voice, or shut the door too roughly.

the hips slamming against your thighs were ruthless, the hand curled around your mouth unrelenting, the hisses in your ear telling you to shut the fuck up remorseless. moans and groans replaced his words, vibrating through your throat as eager kisses were placed upon it, occasional aggressive bites leaving you to cry out louder than you already were. it was worse when he lifted his face, scanning the tears that rolled down the swells of your cheeks and the fearful expression shifting on your face as recognition. At least, you thought it was recognition. as much as the blurry eyes above you mirrored jisung’s, the emotion swimming within them was nothing short of unfamiliar.

jisung quickly stood, face fully covered in a bright red tint that raced down his neck and crept up his ears as he tugged one. “I can’t believe you would say something like that,” he said, stumbling over the words.

you stood unmoving, feeling conflicted as he walked closer. sudden unease made you take a step back, watching as the space between you and jisung grew even larger until he was gone.

#tw noncon #starring... jisung !#screenplay…#jisung x reader #jisung smut #nct x reader #nct smut #dark!jisung #dark!nct #nct dream #nct #jisung

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authorhjk1 · 5 months

Text

Surviving NNN

Part Seven: Minju's offer

The sound of your alarm wakes you up. With a heavy sigh, you turn it off.

You were close. So close. Minju was lying on the mattress. Almost completely naked. Only wearing a red thong. Dreaming about you. How you fuck her. And yet, you were able to escape.

You still don't get how you managed to pull it off. But you are proud of yourself. You didn't cheat on Karina and you didn't get yourself off, thinking about the others.

But as soon as you open the door, you realize it's gonna be hard and long last day. Today is the 30th, which means two things. Karina is coming back tonight and this is your last day. The last day of this ridiculous month. You are gonna kill the person that came up with this shit.

"Good morning, oppa."

Yena gives you sweet smile as you leave your room. But your gaze only lingers on her face for a second. The young woman is on her way to the shower. And, true to her attempt to seduce you, the only thing she is wearing is an old, white shirt of yours.

You don't wear it anymore, because it's a little see through. If you don't wear anything underneath, everything is visible. That's the case for Yena right now. And she isn't wearing anything underneath at all.

Her breasts are way smaller than Karina's, that's for sure. But they do have their own charm. Letting your eyes travel further, you see her center underneath the shirt. It's neatly trimmed, her snatch looking more inviting than it should.

You are able to mumble a quick good morning as well. You are sure that Yena is doing this on purpose.

When she walks in front of you as you head towards the kitchen, you see the outlines of her butt quite well. If you could just squeeze her cheeks....

Clearing your thoughts, you shake your head as you walk into the kitchen.

"Hi, there."

Minju has changed. Although you don't know if that's good or bad. It seems like she showered this morning. As you walk past her to get a glass of water, you smell her shampoo. You like the fruity scent in her hair.

Minju is dressed a little more appropriate now. Her hair, still wet, is cascading down her naked back. Her top looks like it's completely backless. Only a small string decorates her back to hold the top in place. The black cloth looks like it could drop any second, if you would just pull at the string.

Her shorts are as short as ever. Minju has beautiful thighs and she seems to know that. She keeps showing them of to you. Her red thong is replaced by a black one, which completes her all black outfit. How do you know? Her waistbands are high enough to decorate her tummy area.

"I'm making pancakes again. You liked them so much, daddy."

You spin around.

"What?"

Minju looks at you, tilting her head in confusion.

"What is it, oppa?"

Did you just hear her wrong?

"What did you say?"

"I'm making pancakes?"

"After that."

"You like them?"

"Anything else?"

You see her ponder for a second, before shaking her head.

"Nothing else."

Did you really hear it wrong? It feels like you are going crazy. Why would Minju call you that?

Minju glares at the back of your head as you walk away.

Why are you so dumb? Can't you pick up on the most obvious of hints? She was lying almost completely naked in front of you last night. You could've just slit her thong to the side. Her dripping wet pussy would have welcomed you.

But you left? A fire is burning in the young angel's mind. How can you pass up on that? She even pretended to dream about you.

Minju scoffs. Anyone else would've cream pied her already. Then why is she trying? A moment of doubt rushes through her head. Do you genuinely not like her that way?

You walk towards your room, ready to change into your outfit for today. Minju's worries fly away as she sees you pulling your top over your head. The muscles in your back make her wet. She can only guess how long and how much work it took to look like this. Karina is one lucky girl.

While getting dressed, you are happy that you already evaded the two girls' attacks. But there is still one more. You try to prepare yourself for Chaewon.

But you aren't prepared for the scene that is happening outside your room. Opening the door, you see Yena walking back towards her room.

After showering, she threw on a small, tight tank top. The fact that she still isn't wearing a bra is obvious. Her nipples are poking through the yellow fabric.

Yena's shorts could rival Minju's in length and tightness. The green dolphin shorts show of all of the skin on her thighs, her butt cheeks barely covered.

You are about to run back into your room, when you see Yena open the door. Chaewon appears behind the door, standing in the middle of their room.

It looks like she is just getting dressed. Her black panties are decorated with a white waistband reading "Le Sserafim". She is reaching behind her back, closing the hooks on the back of her bra. The lace around the edges give her a more sexy look.

You turn away quickly. You don't want to get caught.

After Yena closes the door behind her, she chuckles at Chaewon.

"You tink you look better than me?"

"Of course I do. I'm way prettier."

Yena scoffs.

"You are not just ugly, but also dumb. Why would you wear underwear? Just to make it harder for (y/n) to fuck you? Look at this."

Yena let's the strings of her top fall from her shoulders and pushes the center of her shorts to the side.

"Now he can fuck me."

"You are a whore, you know that?"

"And you're not?"

Chaewon raises her chin.

"I'm not. I just really like getting fucked."

"That's the same thing, dumbass."

The two of them glare at each other. Just another day of Chaewon and Yena being roomies.

You walk back into the kitchen on your way to the bathroom. Chaewon is still inside your mind.

"Do you want me stuffed with cream?"

You stop in your tracks, looking at Minju.

"Excuse me?"

"I asked you, if you want your pancakes stuffed with whipped cream."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks Minju."

"No problem, oppa. But I think you should go the doctor. Your hearing seems to be a little worse than before."

With a heavy sigh you close the bathroom door behind you.

Until you leave to go to your company, everything seems normal. Of course it was still a struggle to see the three of them dressed like that, you got over the initial shock. They kept dressing like this for the last few days after all.

"Good morning, Jin-wol oppa!"

You are greeted by an energetic shout as you enter your recording studio in your company's building.

"Wonyoung-ssi. You ready to go?"

She nods excitedly, having waited for you to arrive.

Being in the same company with you is a blessing for Wonyoung. Why? Because she is a huge star. She followed all your music since your debut and even had one of your songs from your recent mini album on her Instagram story. Needles to say, a lot of people listened to it.

A couple of days ago, your company gave the green light for your project. A collaboration between the most famous male and female idol of the company. There is no confirmation on the album being actually released, but you and Wonyoung give it you all.

She is a quite energetic person, always ready to go as soon as the two of you meet up.

"Do you want me to record the ad libs today?"

"Yeah. We will do those first. Maybe we can record the rest as well."

Wonyoung gives you a thumbs up as she enters the booth. Your phone lights up, signaling that you got a message. From Karina. It's a picture of her at the airport.

"Can't wait to see you tonight. How was I able to spend the whole month without you? Miss you lots."

She sends you a couple of kissing emojis and red hearts. You respond in kind, before focusing on Wonyoung.

You nod for her to start as you play the song. This one could be your title track. You have worked for a while on it and are proud how it turned out. Now, the only thing to do is finish the lyrics and record your singing and rapping.

Wonyoung starts humming during the parts where she is supposed to. The two of your record it a couple of times, before listening to it. You already added the intro.

"Starship."

That's your voice.

"Let's get it!"

Wonyoung's cute voice makes you chuckle. You are honored to be able to work with such a talented singer.

Her humming sets the tone of the song. It's a quite upbeat one, her ad libs adding a deeper layer to it.

Your see your phone lighting up again as you already stand inside the recording booth.

"Can you check it for me?"

It might be Karina, telling you that her flight got delayed or something.

Wonyoung nods as she takes your phone into her hand and turns it on. You see her eyes wander over the screen, her cheeks starting to flush.

"Wonyoung-ssi?"

"Huh?"

She looks up at you, wide eyed.

"Right, right."

She collects herself, before reading the message.

"I-I hope the girls were good company. C-Can't..."

Wonyoung looks up at you for a second, before looking down again.

"C-Can't wait for midnight. I want to get drowned in all that built up cum."

You stand there, Wonyoung still looking down, not quite sure what to do. This is embarrassing.

"S-Sorry. I shouldn't have made you read it to me."

"N-No, it's fine."

Her cheeks don't return to their original color, but she looks up again. You are afraid this is gonna make working together real awkward.

"Are you... Do you participate in, you know, NNN?"

You are surprised that Wonyoung is asking this and you ponder for a moment if you should tell her or not.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"I see."

A teasing grin forms on her lips.

"That's why Minju unnie borrowed that underwear from me."

What? You know Wonyoung is talking about the red thong. You knew it was unusual for Minju to wear stuff like this. But Wonyoung? Probably even less likely.

You always saw her as a cute junior. More like a little sister. A picture of her in that red thong enters your mind.

You try to get it out of your head, clearing your throat.

"You wanna keep going?"

Wonyoung nods her head. You are glad she doesn't ask any further questions.

It's now 10 pm on November 30th. There are only two hours left. Two hours you have to go through, until you are free.

"This one is empty."

You follow Minju's finger with yours, trying to see where she is pointing at. Finally seeing the empty parking space, you back into it.

"Let's go, oppa."

Minju seems a little too excited. She desperately wanted to join you, when you told her you are going to pick up Karina from the airport. Yena and Chaewon both have late schedules, so they couldn't come. But the five of you booked a table at a restaurant to eat dinner together. The two of them will hopefully make it in time.

You and Minju walk towards the luggage area. The airport isn't as full as it usually is, which means the two of you can walk around without being covered by masks and hats.

The big screen on your right shows that Karina's flight is just about to land.

"Do you want a coffee or something?"

Minju shakes her head. You see her looking around and then at the big screen.

"Oppa."

Now she looks up at you.

"You are not dumb, are you?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"You know what's been going on throughout the last month, right?"

Minju speaks a little faster than usual. As if she is nervous.

"The three of you kept trying to get me into bed."

Minju's cheeks flush red.

"So you do know?"

"Yeah. It got more obvious over time."

Minju nods, silently admitting that their hints weren't really subtle.

"Then why didn't you just give in? NNN is just a stupid game."

"Is it now?"

You lean down a little, Minju's eyes growing wide as your face moves closer to hers.

"Is that why my TV remote was all sticky?"

She quickly turns around, hiding her face in her down jacket.

You are surprised at how embarrassed she is. She was lying in your living room, only wearing a thong, waiting for you to fuck her. And now that you tell her, you caught her masturbating, she gets all shy.

"I can tell you, why I didn't give up."

You sigh, waiting for Minju to slowly appear underneath her jacket.

"Because I made a bet with Karina."

"What kind of bet?"

"If I succeed, I get a special gift."

"Do you know what it is?"

You shake your head. Minju bites her lip.

She knows exactly what it is. But she doesn't tell you. Her own, individual reward way more satisfying in her own eyes.

"Oppa."

Minju holds onto the sleeve of your jacket, looking up at you. Her big eyes pleading.

"We still have time, you know? I won't tell anyone if you won't."

Minju takes a step forward, sliding her hands into your jacket.

"Just use me as a cum dump until Karina is here."

You feel her pressing her body against yours.

"Minju-"

"Please, oppa. There is a bathroom right there."

You shake your head. Minju's advances are powerful, but you only have to hold out for a couple of minutes longer.

"No, Minju. I would never cheat on Karina."

You try to get her hands off you, but she has already interlocked her fingers behind your back. She is barely able to reach around you, her face squished against your chest.

"Karina said it's okay. She said we are allowed to seduce you."

She said what? You are not sure, if you can believe Minju. On one hand, Karina probably is the kind of person, who would suggest something like this. On the other hand, you don't know if that's just a way for Minju to get you to give up.

"You are lying."

"I'm not, oppa. I swear."

"Do you have proof?"

Minju huggs you tighter, her hips rubbing against you.

"Isn't the fact that Karina unnie brought us over proof enough?"

If you think about, it was really weird. Why would the three of them stay at your place? It's not like they don't have their own apartments or dorms.

"Please?"

Minju looks up at you, giving you her best puppy eyes.

Even if Karina set all of this up, you still don't want to lose. The grant prize must be something incredible.

"I won't fuck you, Minju."

The young angel pouts in disappointment. She can feel your hard cock through both of your pants. So close and yet so far. Her wetness is increasing as she keeps being so close to you.

"Just get me off then. Please. I can't take it any longer."

"Minju, can't you wait until I'm done. It's a little unfair to ask that of me."

You don't know about the bet the girls have going on between them. Chaewon and Karina both lost already. You did catch Minju at least trying to climax. What about Yena? Did she cum already? If not, what is her reward?

"It's okay, oppa."

Minju takes your hand guides towards her ass. You are now very aware that you are still in public.

"It's not cheating if you just make me cum. Especially if Karina says it's okay. You don't have to nut. You can do that after today. Please?"

Minju hasn't entirely given up yet. She still hopes she can convince you to cum in her, once she has made you desperate enough.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #le sserafim #aespa #karina #aespa karina #chaewon le sserafim #chaewon #kpop yena #choi yena #yena #izone minju #kim minju #minju

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izvmimi · 3 months

Text

cw: violence and serious injury. fem!reader is a pro hero with a vague quirk, but including the ability to fly. izuku and reader are newly married, reader is referred to as wife. a/n: a rewrite of something posted previously so if parts are familiar that's why.

Hundreds of feet in the air, away from the rubble and carnage of the active surface where a few dozens of civilians hurriedly evacuate, you hover over Tokyo, facing what you realize may be your last ever opponent.

By this time, your vision is starting to blur, and it’s a miracle that you can still focus on the gloating, hulking form in front of you. The humans below you are like ants in a loose file, thankfully making use of the valuable time you’ve allotted them to escape to safety by dragging your opponent into the skies. Something monstrous and yet something human enough to laugh does so in a raucous cackle as it takes in your already slackening body, still floating yet shakily so in the skies. You waver with every strong gust, the loose and torn bits of your Hero costume flapping in the wind; you’ve nearly run out of charge to your jet boots, and it won’t be long until you either take this fight to the ground or gravity overtakes you.

“Is it really worth it?” the villain asks in mockery. You tremble like a leaf, and you can’t think of a part of your body that doesn’t feel shattered. And yet the answer is yes. It always will be yes.

Today is a bad day. The Symbol of Peace, your Deku, is nowhere to be found. Overseas, in fact. Other Heroes have heard your call to action, you’re sure, but no one is coming to your immediate rescue as of now. It’s just you, alone, for the first time since UA, since ever.

You don’t muster up the courage to answer, instead clenching your fists, steeling yourself for one final bout against an enemy you cannot beat. There’s not much more you can do in the way of winning, except buy time for someone stronger than you to eliminate this threat and keep the premises safe.

Bile rises in your throat and you spit, then grin, widening your eyes fiercely. Perhaps it’s a mockery of some sort that the villain takes particular offense to. That may or may not have been your intention.

“I’ve had enough time wasted toying with you!” it snarls, and charges in your direction. It’s too fast to evade, and the first blow you manage to block is agonizing, weighing heavily on your tensed forearms. You grit your teeth as you feel the limbs strain to nearly breaking.

You are no stranger to fear nor are you unfamiliar to pain but you feel both right now, more than you’ve ever felt in your entire life - a type of terrifying agony that mixes together and amplifies, sinking deep into your broken bones, one that settles far into your psyche and weighs heavy on your chest.

Another blow is delivered, then another, until there is a barrage that breaks through your defenses. It occurs to you yet again that you’ll die here as a punch lands on your right cheek and clearly fractures your jaw, along with another right in the solar plexus that knocks the wind and any remaining vitality out of you.

A noble death, of course; in the line of duty. A Hero’s death.

A smile spreads on your lips. You are doing the best you can, and something in that should be comforting. The screams from down below are barely audible from the ringing in your ears and time seems to slow.

Things are starting to fade to black and the next few times you are struck barely register, passing the threshold of pain into numbness. Perhaps your Quirk has gone into effect, shutting down your nerves, so that you can no longer feel anything more than the plethora of emotions welling up in your fractured chest.

You’ve failed. You haven’t failed.

Perhaps your family will be proud of you. Your friends. Him, for risking your life as he would, if he were here, even if it meant he would lose it in the process.

You hurtle back to Earth like a meteor. Someone is calling your name.

Someone is calling your name.

—

Thousands of miles away, Izuku Midoriya picks up his phone to find more missed calls than he’s ever had in his life in the span of three hours. As he leaves his conference, he fumbles with his phone, scrolling faster and faster through every notification. Bakugou, your friends, his mother… but none of them are from you.

There’s a pit in his stomach as he realizes Bakugou is the only one brave enough to leave a text.

Call me ASAP. ___ is in the hospital.

“Your wife has a tendency to bite a little bit more than she can chew, but she’s alive.”

Izuku can hear the not yet uttered ‘for now’ that Bakugou is holding back, and he’s somewhere between grateful and dreadfully angry. There’s an incessant tap in his foot that he can’t help himself enough to stop and he knows he is giving off tiny little sparks of OFA the longer he sits and waits for the gate to open to allow boarding. It’s a good thing there’s nothing nearby that can catch fire, and if it weren’t for the fact that his childhood friend is on the line calming him down the only way he can, he’d have a word to say to the attendant who is staring him down.

“You didn’t catch her,” Izuku says suddenly in a cool voice.

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, long enough to betray Katsuki’s guilt at being able to make it to the scene to subdue the enemy but not fast enough to intercept your crash towards the earth. That part of the fight was on video clear as day, captured by a civilian who immediately posted it on the internet, displaying your battered body for the world to see.

Izuku watched it five times in a row, clenching his phone tightly until a long crack formed along the screen and his stomach churned enough to vomit.

Katsuki mulls the words in his mouth before he replies.

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

Izuku decides to leave it at that. Anger won’t do him much good, and a part of him blames himself.

There’s another silence on the phone and Izuku can hear his pulse racing in his ears.

“I’m sorry.” Bakugou says, and Izuku realizes the situation is truly dire. He doesn’t want the apology, not from someone who rarely does so. He doesn’t say anything in response.

—

“It’ll only be a week,” Izuku says, smiling. You give him a pout, even though you’ve been over this already for the past three weeks.

“A week is a long time, Izuku,” you sigh, but you forgive him anyway, rubbing his back gently and interlacing the fingers of your other hand with his. The airport is busy, but less so than you expect for this time of day, the early afternoon on a weekend. You don’t want him to go, you think, but anyone can get through a week and even if you’ve just recently tied the knot, he doesn’t only belong to you.

“It’ll fly by,” he insists. “I’ll call you every morning, okay?”

You smile at him, your eyes nearly closing with the action. He smiles back, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss the back.

“Be safe,” you offer him as he moves past the waiting area, where you can no longer follow him.

“I will,” he promises. “You be safe too. I love you.”

—

“You can’t go from the airport straight to the hospital. Sleep first. Breathe. She’s not going anywhere.”

Bakugou’s voice is steady, the very opposite of what Izuku is feeling right now, having just touched down on Japanese soil and already calling right out of the gate.

“Which hospital?” Izuku repeats, completely disregarding his friend’s advice. Even breathing deeply doesn’t seem right somehow, right now - the air smells wrong to him, too salty and too dry, and the migraine that started on the plane 12 hours ago shows no sign of abating.

Bakugou sighs and answers the question. Izuku is stubborn to a fault, he knows that better than everyone, and he can clearly sympathize with him.

“Just don’t harass the staff when you get there. They’re doing the best they can.”

—

“Who did it?”

Izuku’s voice comes out low and the fatigue in it is evident. The random beeps and whistles of the machines in the intensive care unit have worn him down over time, especially in the last hour, not to mention the drip, drip, drip of the bag of intravenous fluids that hooks up to your wrist.

The man in front of him balks at the interruption, then clears his throat. It’s clear that Izuku does not want to hear the same recapitulation for the fifth time today, but unfortunately this is all he has to offer.

“Unfortunately sir, we have no idea who that-”

Izuku snorts derisively, an action that has the nurse freeze and the words die in his throat. His eyes are narrowed and he is clearly upset, but he remains perfectly still, save for rolling his aching broad shoulders back. He’s been sitting in this exact spot for too long, watching, waiting.

Hoping you will wake up.

“Who did it?” he repeats.

The nurse furrows his eyebrows and pulls his stethoscope off of his neck, playing with it in his hands. It’s a simple nervous gesture, but it drives Izuku slightly mad.

“The important thing is that-”

Izuku closes his eyes and lets out a quick sigh, then claps his hands onto his thighs loudly enough that it echoes throughout the room. When he reopens his eyes and focuses them at the useless individual in front of him, his tongue is sharper than the edge of a blade.

“I’m going to be quite honest with you right now. I don’t care about the chronology of what happened once she made it here anymore. You’ve given me every painstaking detail and I’ve sat here quietly and listened to it. Really, I appreciate all you have done to make sure that she stays alive. However, my wife is here with staples on one side of her head and hasn’t opened her eyes since I got here... I’ve wanted to hit something desperately for the past twelve hours and if you don’t start giving me useful information - as in something I can act on - in the next minute, it may regrettably be you. So start talking.”

The nurse’s face grows ashen.

“T-There’s no way for me to know that sir.”

There’s a pause in the air that nearly fills with the sound of the nurse’s heart beating out of his chest, and the beep, beep, beep of the overhead vitals monitor. Izuku smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m aware now,” he says, finally. “So please leave and let us rest.”

The nurse doesn’t have to be told twice, knowing that Midoriya has given him an abundance of mercy by not taking out his anger on him. He scrambles out so fast he trips on the way out.

As soon as he leaves, Izuku acknowledges to himself that he was far too harsh, and the fact that, if you were awake, you would have given him an earful for being so unkind. He’s barely acting like himself. He is kind. He is a kind man.

Izuku lets out a sigh and runs his hands through his hair five or six times, a seventh for comfort. Your own head is partially shaved and wrapped in gauze, and while you were extubated before he made it across the country to this very hospital, there’s still a myriad of wires and tubes that sprout from your body like weeds in an untended garden. He’s been having trouble looking at you, not because you’re too beat up to gaze upon, but because your face is actually miraculously spared from swelling (or at least appears so due to the wiring of your jaw shut) and you look so peaceful in your slumber that you might as well be dead.

He wasn’t there to protect you. Constantly traveling these days, having been dispatched to other parts of the country where a second wave of insurgency against the Hero-favoring status quo had again resurfaced, and then most recently overseas, he regrets the fact that he couldn’t possibly be there for you. Yet, you always insisted and proved you could handle yourself well. You’d said repeatedly that despite being better on the field when you were together, you were still pretty damn good on your own.

And it was true, even if Izuku didn’t particularly like you going on missions separately initially at first. Even if you weren’t ranked as high as him, you were still ranked among many capable Heroes which meant you were at least competent.

But this time you truly had bitten off more than you could chew.

Deku steels himself to glance at you again and intertwines his fingers with your slightly cool ones. He flinches at first - the fearless Symbol of Peace actually flinches - but then grips them tightly, remembering that you’re still breathing. He watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath the slight covers that the hospital provides you, and makes a mental note to bring your favorite blanket from home.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he prays quietly that it’s not work related because he truly believes that this will push him over the edge, but it’s a text from Bakugou.

We made dinner for when they eventually kick you out. You can stay with us for tonight.

Izuku’s eyes start to burn.

His friend thinks of everything. Katsuki understands, having been in the same position with his own partner just months ago. It had been so easy for Izuku to open up his home then, and now his friend has the opportunity to return the favor. It’s bittersweet.

Izuku chokes down a sob.

Thanks, Kacchan.

He doesn’t want to leave but visiting hours will be over in a couple of hours, and he’ll be inevitably separated from you again.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can no longer be by your side.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #pro hero deku x reader #pro hero izuku x reader #daydreams: bnha #mimi's notes

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missblissy · 2 months

Note

Can you write an Alastor x reader where the reader tries to save him from Adam but ends up badly injured?

((Ofc course nonny! I apologize if I’m a little rusty and this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but!! I did get inspired by the last episode and decided to rewrite the scene with reader there too :’) I hope you enjoy!! This is more of a platonic stage of a relationship with Alastor, something where he cares for reader but not like… ya know… together yet 😂))

You already knew the plan, you knew your place in it, that being down on the ground with all your friends. In front of the hotel you stood, not far from the others. While Charlie and Vaggie watched with wide eyes, you felt a sliver of dread work its way into your mind. The shield that Alastor had created was holding… for now.

And you could see far above like a speck of glowing sand, Adam and his bright wings keeping him afloat. The sliver of dread was momentarily replaced with rage, anger, and possibly hatred. You had to shake it away though, as within a moment's notice Adam broke down the shield and the dread returned.

It wasn’t long before angels came flying down once again, with a newfound fury to destroy the demons who dared to stand against them. Luckily you at least knew a thing or two about dodging and weaving. Spending time in hell taught you enough to throw a few kicks, with the stab of an angelic weapon given to you before the battle.

You’d manage to take down a few angels, all while still keeping a seething eye on Adam. The closer he got to the hotel the more panic you felt, and more so for selfish reasons rather than selfless ones. And with Alastor’s shield down it was only a matter of time before the table would start turning. Purely out of your own instincts you turn tail from the battle out front and start racing up the hotel.

There were angels already swarming in like flies, and you did your best to avoid them. Despite that, one still caught you off guard and managed to slam you to the ground. A struggle ensued, wrestling on the ground with this vile heathen, to you at least.You’d let out a yelp and wriggle, arms flying and nails clawing into holy skin. With you elbow you jammed it into the angel’s face over and over until you could reach you weapon and go for their throat.

The bright glowing blood splashed onto you, golden, while slick it escaped the angel and stole its life in the process. You shoved the lifeless body off you and stumbled further up the hotel. You could hear the battle above, while bits of rumble crumbled and flung to the ground. The building gave a shake and shudder strong enough for you to slip on a step and reach for the railings.

Your heart leapt into your throat and threatened to burst any second. The panic was a terrible and familiar feeling. It was hard to say, or even admit, but dammit you cared for that stupid bastard up there in a way. Alastor certainly couldn’t stand a chance against Adam, you didn’t believe a word of his boasting earlier. Claiming that he could single handedly take care of Adam and keep him distracted.

No sinner, not even the radio demon could do such a thing you believed. He’d been gone for so long as well, who’s to say he hasn’t gotten rusty? Alastor was cocky, and arrogant, yet still you were racing up floor after floor to aid him in battle.

The hotel shook again and you had to put your hands out to catch yourself in the fall. You still shimmered with holy blood as droplets fell from you while racing the last few steps. Another good shake and rumble had you rushing and stumbling out of the door onto the rooftop.

A panicked expression came on your face, witnessing what was before you. Though Alastor seemed fine, causal even with a simple smile, you saw Adam trying evade the dark tenacles that manifested to and fro around him. Adam may have had a sneer on his face but he let out a mocking laugh, “Ha! You think you’re tough shit don’t you?” His golden eyes met yours in that second, and you started to take a step forward.

Alastor hadn’t even noticed, he just smiled and took another swing at Adam, “Tougher than you~!” He grinned with a twisted laugh. While Adam took a few attempts at striking Alastor, lurching forward with his bass ax, Alastor was too caught in the battle to see the split second decision that you made.

You ran forward with all your might, weapon in hand and death in your eyes. You hoped that with your speed you’d have caught Adam off guard, but it wasn’t enough. You were able to cut the distance and jab the angelic weapon into Adam’s side but not without him reaching around and back handing you away. You landed with a thud on the ground several feet away, ready to get back up, but Adam was quick enough to kick away your only weapon.

His ax cut down quickly on one of your arms, leaving it hanging by a thread before he grabbed you by the throat and used you as some meat shield. Your own blood gushed like a sprinkler and began to pool. All while you let out a curdling cry in pain.

To say Alastor was anything but enraged that you managed to make it up there was a mistake. His smile was still there regardless. But he froze if only to listen to Adam bicker. With his hand around your throat, the air was running out quickly in your lungs while you did everything you could to kick your feet at him.

“Come on you edge lord freak! Not gonna fight now that I got this neat little trick?” Adam’s smug grin was enough to test Alastor’s patience and reasoning. The grip on your neck only got tighter. Wriggling there you could do nothing but listen and watch… in fear. As Alastor only grinned and took a swing at Adam, taking you by surprise as well. You were mere inches away from being scathed by one of the tentacles as Adam prepared to use you to block it, but instead he was attacked by another seconds sooner from behind.

But it was enough of a hit to knock you from his hands, and you thudded to the floor. The two of them were back in some kind of battle locked tango as Adam swung and swung his ax and only missed Alastor as he mocked him, “You lack discipline, control!” Alastor laughed, his voice ringing in and out of your ears as you tried to fight back the pain and blood loss, “And worse! You’re sloppy!”

You couldn’t see, let alone hear much more other than the battle going on… You just needed to rest… just for a second. The back and forth bickering between the other two went fuzzy, along with the rest of the battle going on around. That’s when you felt… something... At least try and attempt to pull you to safety. It was the wrapping of a long singular black tentacle curling around your ankle, one that was coming from the shadows and away from the fight.

Even still, above it all, the ringing of battle, the throbbing of pain, the muffled bickering. You could hear the distance snap then a visceral cry of equal pain from an all to familiar voice. Perhaps it was the last bits of adrenaline and endorphins. Or it was your continuing unrelenting nature to never do as told, and always do as you wish instead. Even if it was every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, your eye snapped open and through the blood you could see Alastor becoming a corner like a caged animal with a wound all his own.

Something primal in you awoke, something that wasn’t fueled by hatred or even really fear, but rather more of a rage induced panic for someone cared for. The burn was enough to push you to your feet, leaping with all your might towards Adam. You managed to tackle him down, using your only good arm to wrestle him to the ground, fighting over his ax, “You little shit!” He barked at you, “You just don’t know when to quit don’t you?!?”

It was Alastor’s turn to bleed and watch, and more helpless than ever before. His ego tore in two behind a smile while fighting the instinct to turn tail and save his own skin. Guaranteeing your death. Or, risk what little left he could do to save you. And even more infuriating, his deal wouldn’t allow him to do more than what he wanted.

He gritted his teeth and choked on blood. Alastor smirk only got more bitter as he chuckled to himself and muttered a curse, reminding himself to chew you out later if you both made it out alive.

While you struggled on the ground with Adam, while his fist greeted your face, jaw and throat a few times, you’d claw and bite at him with the same force. If Alastor was going to act, he needed to act now. So he got to his feet, holding his arm over his blood oozing wound. However, in the other hand shadows began to take form. He closed the distance and let out a mocking laugh, “Don’t forget about me!” His arms swung back over his head, “You aren’t the only one experienced with an ax!” Alastor cackled as the long broad long handle of a felling ax formed from the shadows.

Alastor chopped down with all his strength, eyes turning to dials, the large red X growing on his forehead. He flung the ax down with memories of dismembering bodies, however here he only managed to clip Adam’s wing, far from the glory days of his serial killings. But Alastor still had a skill or two left from then as he used the same motion to knock Adam back like a baseball player hitting a home run.

With a thud and a yell Adam cursed out, forced apart and bleeding from his wing he let you go in the tussle between him and Alastor. In that split second you felt a new pair of hands grab you from behind. Everything felt like it started moving in slow motion to you. The air felt thick, and shadows grew larger from every source. Alastor grabbed you with one arm, bleeding out as equally as you but still keeping you secure by his side, and using the other arm to throw the felling ax like a tomahawk, missing Adam by a hair.

Shadows started creeping in around you, misting and closing in on you. The last thing you saw was Adam’s shit eating grin before darkness enveloped you as you escaped with Alastor. Wind whirled around you but you couldn’t see it, only feel the cool icy bricks of the sharp currents. Lightless like a feather one moment, then the next you felt gravity slam you back into the ground.

The air was smacked out of your lungs, dropped onto the ground you let out a yelp as the world returned. Rubble and ruins surrounded you, dust fell and rocks shambled to the cold hard floor. This… must be the basement of the hotel… You thought. You could still hear the battle above.

But you couldn’t forget how you got here, and who brought you. Guilt washed over you quickly, you spun your head around and saw Alastor propping himself up against a crumbling wall. His ears pinned back, his smile all broken and shaky but still holding true… And some little shadow minion of his was shoving his guts back in his torso and stitching him closed.

That’s when you remembered your own wounds. Your arm… Quickly with fear you looked down and were surprised to find it also being tended to by a little shadow puppet. Which, honestly, you couldn’t feel anything from the shoulder down at this point. So pain or detecting someone pulling the sinews back together wasn’t going to be noticed anyways. At least your arm wasn’t a total loss.

Quickly though, you began frantically, apologizing, “Alastor-.. I am so sorry- I… I-” You felt like a fool, but you also felt a little angry, “I’m sorry!” You said again, “But why did you think you could take Adam on by himself!?” The little flair of anger was gone as soon as it came. Being replaced by guilt once more you hung your head and stared away from your own wounds, someplace random, and repeat, “I’m sorry,” You just didn’t want him to become a causality….

You kept muttering and mumbling away, you even felt tears ready to escape but the quick and short, “Stop,” From the other hushed you up quickly. Out of fear at first, you didn’t look up, but the slow troubled pattern of heels clicking towards you was enough to lift your tired eyes.

Still bloody but not bleeding, and with a limped pain in his step, Alastor approached you, his smile tired and barely hanging on. To your surprise, at first all he said was, “Are you alright?” As he knelt down and gestured to your arm. You were ready to be scolded, and even chewed up and split out… But all Alastor seemed to care about at this moment was if you’d live to another day.

The little shadow had nearly finished sewing you together like a broken doll, repaired and ready to play again. It disappeared once its task was done, and just to test its work, you moved your arm, rolled your wrist and waved your fingers, “I’ve been worse,” You told him with a huff, and a sheepish smile.

“Good,” Was all he said, which, you’d be lying if the empty look in his eyes and his hollow smile didn’t unsettle you to some degree. You didn’t have much of a chance to get a better look, as he stood up while brushing the debris and loose hair out of your face, “Go to the others,” He told you, “And tell them what happened…” His shoot started tapping further away again.

When you looked up again his back was to you. He reached down to his staff snapped in two, you couldn’t see his face but you heard the heavy sigh, “What about you?” You asked, he was still injured, he couldn’t possibly be going off for another fight…? Your nerves where settled only slightly as he reassured you, “I need to find something to fix this,” He gestured to the broken staff, “I believe there is something left in my radio tower,” He explained.

You slowly got to your feet, a sigh, a huff, then a nod of your head, “Okay,” You said. You watched for a second more, turning to leave but not taking a step, looking over your shoulder at him. A sullen moment broke into the air, an unfamiliar sorrow. And he stopped in his steps too. Mimicking your actions, looking back until your eyes met. He shared a smile, one at least more true and strong enough to spread on your lips. A second more was spent there, until more earth shattering rumbles began and the moment was broken. Separating you two once again, leading down different paths away from each other.

#hazbin hotel #the queue tag!!#alastor #hazbin #x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin spoilers #hazbin fandom

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