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#and the cold and dark goes on and on and you feel like you'll never feel warm or happy or properly awake again
canisalbus · 8 months
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IDK if I'm phrasing this correctly, but in my brain, Vasco is, like, the personification (caninification?) of an afternoon chilling on a back porch swing.
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#ah#that's adorable#I can totally imagine him doing that#answered#anonymous#Vasco#to me he usually conjures the feeling of being warmed by sunlight#winters in northern Finland where I'm from tend to be pretty rough at least for me they are#they last about six months or so#sun starts to set earlier and earlier until it gets dark before 2 pm#in december the sun barely rises at all it's like this brief moment of twilight at noon between two 22+ hour nights#it gets harder to wake up in the morning and your energy levels plummet you go into battery saving mode#polar night messes up your brain seasonal depression gets really bad#and the cold and dark goes on and on and you feel like you'll never feel warm or happy or properly awake again#but eventually it starts to veer towards spring and on one day you notice that the sun is shining??!?!#not like bleakly and weakly but proper sunlight with warm hue and capability to actually warm the things it touches#you've forgotten what it looks like when it's truly light outside#and it's the craziest feeling to see bright natural light it blinds you and pierces right through into your very core#being kissed by the sun for the first time in months feels unreal it feels SO GOOD#I don't know it's probably not that big of a deal for people around me#but I personally react to things like changes in temperature and the amount of daylight pretty massively#I like to think that Vasco is a first ray of sunlight hitting you after you've spent what feels like an eternity in someplace cold and dark
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norrisleclercf1 · 26 days
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omg, love your writing!
Could I ask about mafia lando where someone kidnaps reader who is pregnant? 🙏🏻
A/N: Of course darling
Warning: This is somewhat dark, if you don't like that, don't read it!
Lando and you couldn't wait to meet your little baby boy, it was something you two talked about all the time. Lando had upped security like crazy, as he was worried what people could do to you two. It was kept within his inner circle that you were pregnant, but you also didn't try to hide it when you went out.
So in the end, there was no telling who knew about your pregnancy.
"Lan, I'm going out, to pick up some last minute baby stuff." You smiled, leaning against his office door frame. His curls bounce as he looks up and smiles, feeling his pride swell seeing his ring resting on your pregnant belly. "Make sure to take your guards, baby." He didn't want to keep you locked up in the house.
No matter how much the others told him it was safer to keep you locked up, away from harm. He refused to not let you live your life, besides you hard your guards with you, nothing could go wrong.
"I love you," You whisper and Lando smiles, leaning back in his chair, soaking you in. "And I love you, so fucking much, both of you." He whispers the last part and you smile blowing him a kiss as you walk out of the office.
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"Please, they're just right there," You whine to your bodyguard, pointing at the french fry stand, down the street. "Ma'am, I can't leave you alone, Mr. Norris would kill me." You huff and sit down on the bench outside the store. "But, my feet hurt, and the baby is craving french fries." You whine, pulling your best pout.
Your guard groans and looks between you and the stand and sighs, "You have to scream if a stranger comes near you, understand?" He asks, and you squeal and nod your head quickly and he smiles and goes to stand in line, back to you.
"Excuse me, could you help me?" You look up and see a sweet girl who smiles brightly, noticing the thick german accent. "Of course, what's wrong?" You smile, not at all feeling threatened at all at the small slightly older lady. Standing you place a hand on your very obvious pregnant belly. "Move and make any sounds to alert the guard and I'll rip that monster out of you," Your blood runs cold feeling something sharp poke right where your little boy's head was.
"Don't, don't. If you kill me, make sure they find me quick please, he's able to live without me, just please." You beg softly, making sure you don't startle anyone. "Shut your fat fucking mouth, move." The woman hisses and pushes your forward as you toddle to the darkened out SUV looking back to see your body guard ordering your french fries.
"Just, make sure they find me quick okay, for my baby." The woman growls and swings her hand back, knocking you in the head, your body going limp as the darkness swallows you gently.
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"Sorry it took so long Mrs. Norris, I know you like your fries cripsy but not so much they crunch and jus," Your body guard Oscar freezes seeing you no where around. "Fuck," He scans the crowds not seeing you. There wasn't any restrooms or baby stores near by, stepping forward his foot makes a cracking sound and looks down and dread settles deep in his stomach.
It was your locket that had the tracker in it, a little picture of you and Lando and on the other side the sonogram. "Oh, Lando is going to fucking kill me."
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It's the dull throb that has you whimpering, but also the reality that you might never get to hold your baby boy in your arms, that Lando would have to raise him alone. It terrifies you. "Please, don't hurt my baby." You whimper, head rocking into a hard floor as it was so heavy.
"Will you shut her the fuck up," Someone growls. "Gladly," You shake hearing that womans voice again, "Touch my fucking wife and you'll meet a slow death." Your muscles relax as you let out a soft sob, shaking hearing that accent again.
"Y/n, I'm here, you're okay." You breakdown further hearing Oscar's voice as he moves ripping his jacket off and folding it, placing it under your head. "Shhhh, you're okay, shhh." Oscar moves blocking your view as he covers your ears, the piercing screams Lando was pulling out of the woman who had harmed you.
"My baby, the baby," You blubber, Oscar smiles and pulls you into his arms. "They're okay, they didn't hurt the baby." He soothes, but he knows that's probably not the truth. "Oscar," Oscar tenses and looks up seeing Lando, face splattered with blood. "Here," Oscar whispers and hands his friend something to clean himself up. "My baby," You sob, Lando's face pinches as he moves scooping you up.
"Love, I've got you, the baby is going to be okay, you're okay. Hearing Lando say those words, soothe you in a way you can't explain. "You and our boy are just fine, just fine." He repeats, almost like he was trying to soothe himself. Climbing into the car Lando's grip remains secure as he let's you curl around him. He doesn't know when, but the long drive back you fall asleep.
"Oscar," Lando almost smirks seeing the way the boy tenses and slowly looks back as Lando stares at him. "Thank you for getting her fries," Oscar blinks as Lando looks down and touches your belly, feeling a strong kick and chuckles. "Next time, just make sure she's beside you when you get them, or else I'll cut your head off." Oscar swallows and nods his head. "Yes, sir."
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yawnderu · 5 months
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You Fight Your Demons, I Ride Mine | Simon ''Ghost'' Riley x Reader
Drip.
Your eyes focus on the corner of your room, staring at the tall figure that visits you in your restless dreams, haunting you ever since your friends were stupid enough to suggest playing with a Ouija board.
Drip.
Your gaze goes to the bathroom door, listening intently to the water dripping from the faucet every few seconds. When your eyes return to the corner, the man was closer. He always does this— getting closer every single time you're not staring right at him, always stopping at the foot of your bed before disappearing into nothing, the only evidence left behind of his presence being your fast-beating heart.
Your eyes stay on him, trying your best to put on a brave face despite knowing he can taste your weakness. You're not able to look at any details about him, only his silhouette, yet you now realize he doesn't move at all— lacking the regular up and down movement of someone's shoulders when they breathe.
Drip.
He's getting closer even when your eyes are focused on him, not a single footstep heard, the dripping faucet and your heavy breathing the only things making a single sound in the room. He stops at the foot of your bed and you let out a sharp breath thinking it's over. He has never stepped any closer.
Until now. His knee raises as his hands come down to your mattress, slowly but surely climbing your bed, the coldness of the room becoming more evident the closer he gets. It's the first time you see it— the skull balaclava covering his face, dead brown eyes staring right into your soul. You close your eyes tightly and raise the blanket over your head, hoping it's just a bad dream like the ones you've been having, hoping for him to disappear like he always does, yet you can feel the weight of his body as he cages you in, fully on top of you. Despite not being religious, you take as many chances as you can.
''Our father, who art in heaven—'' A dark, deep chuckle rings into your ears, spreading the vibration of his chest all over your much smaller body.
''Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.'' He finishes the prayer for you, mocking clear in his tone, completely unaffected by what was supposed to drive him away. God doesn't scare him— he never did. Gloved hands trace your waist up and down, shoulders shaking in silent laughter as he feels your body tensing up underneath him.
''What, are you scared?'' He taunts, British accent growing thicker the more excited he gets, finally getting his hands on what was promised to him many years ago. His hands travel across your chest, up until he can grasp at the top of the blanket, roughly pulling it all the way down despite your loud protest. Your eyes remain tightly shut, refusing to open them in fear of what you'll see. He moves out of the way; the blanket being thrown to the floor as he stared down at you.
''Go away.'' You manage to plead weakly, face scrunching up sourly when you feel a gloved hand cup your cheek, patting it condescendingly.
''I'll be back.'' He gets up from your bed slowly, black clothes not even making a sound as he walks backwards, going back to the same corner he's always at. You dare to open your eyes, barely managing to see the dark figure turn into nothing as he's about to hit the wall.
A/N: Should I make a series out of this? It was pretty fun to write.
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frogchiro · 5 months
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I dunno why but like I’ve just been thinking right what if Makarov with reader who was being held at the same prison ( god knows why we won’t question that rn 😭 ) and after breaking him he takes the lil squad and goes to break reader out
There is one of the voice lines of Makarov in the game when you choose him as an operator that goes "Someone of your talent belongs at my side" and oh dear gOD this has inspired me so much😭
Okay so I kinda imagine this as some kind of 'what if?' scenario where basically Hackergirl's life goes terribly, no good, very bad wrong. After getting noticed and caught doing hacker work due to one life-changing slip up, instead of getting recruited by Laswell and eventually into the 141, you get thrown into Zordaya Prison and are left to rot.
You can imagine how hard the life was for someone who barely reached adulthood to live in such conditions and now that you're in your early twenties you're just full of resentment. You don't want to survive anymore, you want revenge, but what can you do? You'll probably die in this shithole sooner than later either from the cold or form poisoning from the garbage they call food.
Unbeknownst to you, you caught the eye of a certain russian who heard quite the things about a young and promising hacker while he was still free and now that he was incarcerated in the very same prison as you, he made sure to learn about you everything, you became his obsession so to speak.
So imagine your surprise and horror one faithful day when you hear many voices screaming and barking orders, soldiers and prison guards running amok and shots getting fired, then even more screams and alarms going off howling like crazy.
You're no soldier, you know that and if you make any noise you'll probably die; you don't want to die. You're scared.
Imagine being curled up in a corner of your cell, your breath quick and your heart feels as if it will jump right out of your chest with how quickly it flutters before it finally hitches when you notice a dark shadow loom over you. It was the tattooed man you've heard about. The russian devil some called him; Makarov.
You stared silently at him, your wide (e/c) eyes never moving away from him as his dark brown eyes bored into yours. After what seemed like hours of just staring at the large male outside your cell and those eerie eyes looking at you as if searching your soul, finally two soldiers came and started opening your cell door.
You recognized what they were doing, trying to get to you. Pushing your back flat against the farthest wall of your cell, you started hyperventilating. No. No no no, thi-this can't be it. You have things to do, things to finish and now instead of dying in a cold cell you'll be kicked and beaten to death like a street mutt. No.
"Please no-" but before you could finish your sentence, the man, Makarov, entered the room in absolute silence and as if he commanded every particle in it. He stopped a few paces away from you before offering you a hand, the same eerie look on his face and the words escaping his mouth that changed your life:
"Someone of your talent belongs at my side".
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luveline · 9 months
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What about Eddie comforting sunshine reader? Like she’s worried they’ll break up bc of how different they are
thank you for your request! —you worry that you and eddie are too different to last. he changes your mind. fem!reader, fluff + hurt/comfort, 1.3k
"Can I turn this?" Eddie asks. 
You look up from your nails as soon as you can, meeting Eddie's eyes before following his hand and gaze to the rearview mirror. 
"Yeah, 'course you can. I'll turn it back." 
Eddie nods appreciatively and turns your rearview to face him in the passenger seat. His van can't make big trips without blowing a gasket or springing a leak, leaving you behind the wheel of your slightly less dilapidated Escort for tonight's excursion. 
You tear your attention from him to put the brush back into your precariously balanced nail polish and crank down the window, airing out the fumes. Eddie hasn't complained about the smell. He complains about lots of things, but never you. 
That doesn't mean he isn't thinking those complaints, though.
The longer he goes without chastising you, the more you worry. Eventually, you're going to irritate him. You'll be too loud, too saccharine, too much. 
"Got your glitters?" he asks, pulling down the soft skin under his eye, eyeliner pencil poised at his waterline 
"What?" 
Eddie pencils eyeliner under his bottom lashes. "For your nails." 
You watch him draw a messy line. He knows what he wants and after a handful of seconds he's rubbing it out with his pinky fingertip and moving to his other eye. 
"Sweetheart?" Eddie asks. 
"What?" 
Eddie stops drawing on his eyeliner to look at you with fond puzzlement. "Is something wrong?" 
He looks casually cool in his way. Dark hair darker in the evening light, pale skin blown out and his eyes big and sugary. You look at him and feel melted by your affection for him, wanting to reach out and wrap a ringlet of his hair around your finger teasingly, or pet the slope of his cheek with the back of your hand. 
Especially when he's asking you questions like that, delivered without any grandeur. 
"No, I don't think so. Why, is something wrong with you?" You lean back in your chair and close your eyes. "I'm tired already. We need to stop making late night plans." 
"We could get a motel if you don't wanna drive again tonight." You don't see Eddie turn back to his make up, assuming he does when the weight of his gaze is alleviated, and his words come out distractedly slow, "I know that there's… something bothering you. Tell me what it is so I can kiss it better." 
"You'd like that, Munson," you tease. 
"I'd really like that. It would be the highlight of my night." 
There's a wooden plink of the pencil being dropped and the plastic sound of the glove compartment being opened and quickly closed. You spy through barely parted lashes as Eddie leans across the console, eyes widening to look down your nose while he draws ever closer. 
He kisses you quickly, misaligned but well-meaning. 
"Tell me what's wrong and I'll make it worth it," Eddie promises. He's flirting now, the cadence of his voice rougher, his brows lifting ever so slightly. "Is it something serious?" 
"Not really," you say, leaning back as his hand finds your hip, and his index finger slides under the hem of your t-shirt. 
He draws a ticklish circle. "You know I wanna hear it? Whatever it is…" His middle finger joins his index, then his whole hand is under your shirt and sliding across your naked stomach. 
You laugh and clamp a hand down on him. "It's stupid, and it'll sound stupider out loud." 
"Nice, I like stupid shit. If you don't tell me we'll just have to play hooky in your cold car all night and miss the show." He says it like that's more than alright in his book —he makes playing hooky sound like staying at the Ritz.
He pulls you as close to him as he can considering your impossible seats and brings his free hand to your neck. "If you tell me, I'll give you one of those massages you just hate," he offers quietly, the slightest dip of salaciousness all but smothered in concern. 
You won't torture him, even if admitting what's wrong will make you feel like you're standing naked by the side of the I-64. 
"Do you ever worry that me and you are too different?" you ask. 
"Too different?" he repeats, giving your hip a mindless squeeze. "I've never worried that, no." 
"Just 'cos, you're all– you like rock shows 'n' macabre movies. You hate the radio, you say that the colour yellow gives you a headache–" 
"I don't hate yellow." 
"You squint when I wear my yellow sweatshirt." 
Eddie nods severely. "Well, you figured us out. We should break up now, before we get any more serious." He lifts your chin with his thumb and guides your face to his for a kiss. "You don't mind rock shows," he says against your lips, tip of his thumb stroking a short, soft line. 
"I like 'em 'cos they make you happy." 
"That's why I don't hate the radio, either. I don't like half of the stuff they play, but I leave it on because I," —his lips move to the corner of your lips, dipping in for a kiss and then sitting back in his seat— "love to watch you." 
"What, when I do my Madonna impression?" you ask jokingly. 
Eddie's answering smile is far from joking. "I love all your impressions. I love everything you do, all that shit that makes us different are just reasons I like you. Your long stories, your magazine quizzes, your glittery nails. I really like your nails." 
"You do?" you ask. 
"It's nice when you ask me what colours to use, and you make a really cute face when you put the glitter on with a toothpick." He scrunches his eyes. "Like this." 
You laugh, startled. "That's me?" 
"That's you." Eddie brings both hands to your face and presses his thumbs to the apple of your cheeks. He turns your head gently from left to right. "Do you think we're too different?" 
"Kind of. What if you get tired of it, you know? What if one day you look over and you think, fuck, I wish the radio would just break already?" 
Eddie laughs with a giggle bordering ecstatic, a matching smile playing over his pretty mouth. "That's not going to happen!" he says through it, thumbs rubbing a steady back and forth into your cheeks. "I'm never going to look at you and think that. The only stuff I think about when I look at you is how I fucking worship you, baby." 
You turn your cheek indulgently into his hand, like the girls in the chick flicks with the handsome movie stars. He doesn't look like the average leading man, but all the things that disqualify him for pop movies are the things that drew you in —his unruly curls, his dark tattoos, the funny way he smirks like he's the only one who knows a scandalous secret. 
He smiles at you now like you know the secret too. 
"Let's stay different," Eddie says, hands falling to yours to give them a shake. "We only need one thing in common." 
You lean over the console. He's right, you decide, as his soft lips press against the seam of your own, encouraging you to part them gently. Your noses press together, Eddie's hand sliding up your forearm, that common thing sewn into each millimetre of movement and every second of his kiss. The only thing you need to be the same between you is how you feel about one another. 
Plus, he worships you? 
You hook an arm behind his head and pull him closer. Your twin smiles make it hard to kiss, but you keep trying.
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x0x0josephinex0x0 · 4 months
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comfort | kmg
i am feeling icky (physically and mentally and basically in all the ways, send help lol) and as always mingyu is my comfort human so i guess i was just feeling it. reader is mentioned to be an introvert. also reader is in a bad place mentally, lowkey is implied to be a depressive episode (self-insert? hi). kinda sorta from mingyu's pov. pet names used (honey, baby, my love). kinda sorta based on this song (How to Love You Today by Son of Cloud).
mingyu understands the difference between being introverted and being quiet -- after all, he's friends with hoshi, an introvert, who can blow his eardrums at a moment's notice. he's also dating you, and while you're no hoshi, you're definitely not a wonwoo, either.
more than understanding the difference between quiet and introverted, though, he knows you. so he knows that look you have in your eyes -- the hollow, dull look that steals over your features, sometimes for weeks at a time, while you struggle to feel anything at all. he sees it in you now as you stare out the window at the gloomy clouds gathering over the hills.
it's getting bad again. he knows it. you're usually so still when you sleep, and so splendidly expressive while you're awake, but recently that has switched -- your dreams are restless and your sleep-talking more vocal, and you spend more time sitting and staring than you do normally, your face blank and empty, your hands cold whenever he reaches for them. these are the kinds of days that sap you of your saturation, leaving you feeling listless and drained -- times when mingyu has to remind you in gentle tones to eat, to come to bed, to join him in the shower. your mind is not always kind to you, so mingyu has made it his personal mission to be so.
the worst part is, you've stopped singing. when you'd been "just friends", sometimes your constant humming and vocalizing would peeve mingyu when he was trying to concentrate, but after living with you for almost two years, he barely notices it anymore. in fact, he only really notices when you stop, and it's one of his first indicators that something is off about you.
he's been waiting for you to tell him what's going on. usually he can tell you're in a bad state before you can, but mingyu also knows that if he tells you he's noticed, you'll start trying to hide it from him. because you don't want to be a burden. (the thought of you ever being too much for him is laughable to mingyu. he loves you like it's breathing -- just an instinct, something he never even needs to think about, because it's just that easy. every person is heavy sometimes, so why was it so unreasonable for you, his most beloved and treasured person, to believe that he'd willingly carry you, no matter how heavy you got?)
so he waits, staying aware of you always, noting how the dark circles under your hollow eyes get more pronounced. and he worries, of course he does. but he also knows that one day, soon, you'll --
"mingyu?"
he's in the kitchen shredding lettuce for a sandwich for you when he hears it: that tiny voice you use when you're sort of kind of hoping he doesn't turn around to look at you. because you're on the verge of tears, or you look like hell, or a million other reasons that he couldn't care less about. so he turns around. "hey baby. what's up?"
"i...i don't feel good."
that's really all he needs. that's really all it takes, if he's being honest with himself. he goes to you where you hover in the doorway, afraid to take up space, and pulls you into his arms. "i know, honey. i've got you."
there's nothing like the feeling of having your tense muscles relax into him, the way your body releases all that angst as he runs a warm hand up and down your back. you lean your head against his shoulder and repeat, "you got me?" softly, almost embarrassed.
but even as mingyu's heart aches for you -- even as the tears prick the back of his eyes as he thinks of how you must've been suffering -- he feels so grateful. grateful that you trust him. grateful that you feel safe enough to do what he knows is so scary for you. grateful that you choose to do it despite everyone in the past who has made you feel inadequate for needing a hand.
he presses one, two, three kisses to your temple. "i've got you, my love. i've always got you."
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c0eu4 · 4 months
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OP81 | Caught ♡
Summary: after Lando found Y/n and Oscar deep into making out, he forced her to break up with him but she became depressed. So he feel guilty and try to work things out between them.
Warning: depression, y/n trying to kill herself (not detailed) smut, dom!reader, sub!oscar
A/N: here's the part two, hope you'll like it <3
part one - part two
MASTERLIST requests are open
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''What the hell happened in your head?!'' Lando was mad. Really mad. It must be the first time she sees him that mad. ''Seriously Y/n! Fuck with Oscar!?'' He clenches his fists so hard they're white.
''Lando, it's not that bad?'' She manages to answer him, extremely afraid of him. She knows he will not hurt her physically, but she's afraid to never see Oscar again.
''Not that bad!? NOT THAT BAD!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?'' He yells at her and she bursts in tears, too afraid. Lando didn't hug her. He doesn't try to console her. He does nothing.
''I already call mom.'' He says, more calmly but yet strict. ''You take a plane at eight o'clock to return home.''
''What!?'' More tears flow down her cheeks. ''Lando! Please!'' She tries to grab his arms but he withdraws from her embrace violently.
''No. Take responsibility for your actions.'' She doesn't know what to do. She's so sad right now. No more F1? No more Oscar? And no more of her lovely relationship with Lando?
''I hate you!'' It broke Lando's heart. But he hide it. He doesn't answer, leaving the room to go talk to Oscar. When the door close behind him, she burst in tears, again. Why her? Why Lando was so angry at them? She just wanted to be happy with Oscar.
She sit down in the ground, against the bed. She keeps her legs close to her, hiding her head in. She can't stop crying. What is she going to tell to her mom? ''Oh I fucked with Oscar and Lando doesn't like it.''
No. It can't finish like that. They weren't even a couple. They never been a couple. And they might never be a couple. She finds the strength to calm down and make her bags to go back in Great Britain.
She resist to the tentation of calling or texting Oscar. And when she finally can't deal with it anymore, she finds out that he texted her, ''There is nothing between us.'' and he blocked her.
So all of this was nothing? Oscar never liked her? He just wanted to fuck her like a doll and leave her, her relation with her brother ruined?
After the sadness, here comes the angers. She close her suitcase and leave the hotel room. Lando calls her. And she didn't answer. He tries to call her multiple times but she just ignore him, already in the car to go to the airport.
She finally send him a text, ''I'm in the plane.'' She doesn't wait any longer and entered the plane, keeping back her tears.
_ _ _
Times pass and everything goes worst. Y/n is lost. She don't know what to do. Following her brother in his world tour was her job. And now, she has nothing. Well.. she still have the support from her mother. But with Lando, it's not like before. He's cold. He talks to her only when he needs to and he make everything to not see her.
And in all of this, Y/n can't keep her head up. She slowly start to stop eating, she stop to sleep, too busy to cry. She stop to take care of herself, her messy hair were tied in a braid. Big dark circles under her eyes. She can't find a job and start to have money problem. Even if her parents help her, they can't give her 1300£ per month.
She start to think at a solution. An easier solution. Maybe too easy. It's her mother who find her bloody body on the ground of the bathroom. Hopefully, she was still alive. With a lot of scares. But alive.
When Lando saw her in her hospital bed, he understands his error. He threatened to fire Oscar if he tried to hang out with his sister. But what a big error he made.
She who was so beautiful, so kind and caring.. so.. happy.
He destroy her life.
Lando cried for that. During long night, sometimes on the phone with Carlos.
Carlos never came between Lando and Y/n's difficult relationship. He's just Lando's best friend, there's nothing he can do about it. But yet, it's Lando who open it to him. He told him everything, down to the smallest details.
They talk a lot about it. Carlos comfort Lando and helps him to found a solution.
When Y/n got out of the hospital, Lando was there for her. She tried to push him away, not wanting his pity. But he insisted. And little by little, they recreated links. They became closer, more accomplices. But they still hadn't talked about what happened with Oscar.
She's at Lando's place, on the couch. They both was watching a movie but Lando had to answer an important call. He cames back after a few minutes, a big smile on his lips, ''You wanna come to the Belgium Grand Prix with me?'' Her eyes widen. What is he doing? Did he really wants that? ''So that you can see Osc-'' She cuts him off, still angry after what Oscar did with her. ''I don't want to see him.''
Lando was shocked. Why is she reacting like that? He through that she was in love with him. ''But.. what.. well.. I mean.. And the both of you?'' He sit down next to her, seeing her teary eyes. ''He used me.''
And then, Lando remember what he said to Oscar.
Lando pins Oscar against the wall, refraining from hitting him. ''Never approach my sister again.'' Oscar was shocked by Lando's strength. ''But I love her!'' Lando gaze gets angrier, ''No! No you don't!'' Oscar was scared. Not for him. But for her. He was so afraid to loose her. To loose their little eyes contact game at the paddock. To loose the way they were looking at each other. ''Tell her you never liked her. That all of this was nothing. Or maybe you prefer that everyone think you raped my sister?'' It breaks Oscar's heart. But he listens to Lando. What could he do? He can't afford to let Lando spread rumors about him. ''You are a monster you know?'' ''I'm just a good big brother.'' A tear fall down Oscar's cheek when he send her the text and block her.
''Y/n.. please don't be mad..'' He wipe away her tears with his hand. ''Oscar loves you.'' More tears fall down her cheeks. ''No he don't. He told me it. Before blocking me!'' Lando feels so bad. All of this was because of him. ''I.. I threatened him to send you this message.''
She gets up from the couch. ''You did what!?'' Right when everything was going better between her and Lando, they had to argue again. ''I'm sorry Y/n. I tried to protect you!'' ''You tried to protect me!? PROTECT ME!? I had depression, I tried to die because of it and you think you protected me!?'' Now, Lando is crying too. He can't keep back his tears. ''I..'' He doesn't know what to say. ''Of course I'm coming with you for the Grand Prix. I have to talk with this dumbass.''
Lando can't help but chuckle seeing his sister reaction. Yes she was made at him. But in one hand, she understands him. She probably would have react like him.
''When do we go?''
_ _ _
She walks throughout the paddock, looking for Lando. She missed that. Looking for her brother everywhere until she finds him where he's not supposed to be. It remember her something.... Well. It's already Sunday. And Oscar avoided her the past few days.
Lando feels even more bad. He tries to talk with Oscar but after what happened, they were talking only for the camera. Oscar begin to be so cold. Not only with Lando. But with everyone. It was like something in him was broken. And his heart was. He hesitated so many times to reconnect with Y/n. But he was so afraid of what Lando had said. He knew he would be able to do it, to spread this rumors.
After his Dnf, Oscar was so mad at himself. And against Carlos, of course. But he feels so bad that he was about to cry. All of this, all of what happened, it started to overwhelm him.
He sits in his driver's room, still feeling the adrenaline of the race. He doesn't even bother to look the race at his TV, too busy in his thoughts.
But he quickly comes out, hearing someone knocking on his door. He doesn't answer, just wanted to be alone.
''I know you're here.'' This voice. He can recognize it among a thousand. No. Y/n shouldn't be here. He have to stay away from her.
''Oscar, can I enter?'' He still doesn't answer. Hoping that she would go away. ''Please..'' The way she beg him reminds him of that afternoon in his hotel room. He closes his eyes and sigh. ''Come in.'' She doesn't wait any longer and enter the small room, closing the door behind her. The first thing she said let Oscar in shock, ''Lando tell me everything.''
She stand up in front of him, her blue eyes (The same as Lando.) looking at his. Oscar doesn't know what to do. He's so stunned by what he heard. ''I..I'm so-'' She doesn't leave him the time to finish his sentence that she leans forward and kiss him.
Oscar doesn't kiss her back. She remains leaning forward and Oscar can't help but let his eyes slide towards her cleavage.
''Y/n..we..'' He stop his sentence when she gets on his laps, facing him. ''I know you want it. And I want it too.'' She kisses him again but he still doesn't answer to it. So she grabs his hand and put it on her left breast.
And it was like a trigger for Oscar. He let his other hand slide to her ass and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth. She moaned into the kiss as he make her hips moving against his bulge.
''Fuck, I missed this.'' Oscar let his head fall back, Y/n kissing his neck, leaving a few reds marks. ''I need you..'' She helps him remove his racing suit, her hands sliding over his muscles. He then helps her undress her and makes her sit back on his laps. Her now wet and needy pussy rubbing against his hard and fat cock.
''Come in.'' She whiny against his ear, wanting nothing more than feel him inside her. He grabs her hips and helps her impale herself on his fat cock.
She quickly move up and down, his cock sliding perfectly in her tight cunt. ''Oh fuck...Y/n..keep..''
Oscar has never been very oral when it comes to sex. But damn how much he had missed her. ''Yeah yeah yeah.. just like that..'' He keeps encouraging her to go further. She can't keep her moans back as she feels the knot in her lower abdomen slowly untied.
She hides her head in the crook of his neck, keeping back her orgasm. ''Cum f'me baby.'' She doesn't need anything more to drowning his cock with her liquid. Oscar keep trusting in her a few more time and he milks her with his own hot seed.
They regain their breathing, Oscar coming out of her with one last little moan.
''It felt so good.'' She chuckle, kissing him again. ''I missed you.'' He rub his nose against hers. ''I love you. I love you so much Y/n. You can't imagine it.'' She was so surprised to see him showing that much his emotion. Her eyes watered with joy as he kiss her cheek again.
''Aww.. sugar don't cry.'' It made her tears rolling down her cheeks. He hugs her tightly, pressing her breasts against his chest.
They continue to cuddle, making up for all the time they lost together.
But the end of the race comes faster than expected and Lando returns to his driver room, right next to Oscar's.
And unfortunately for Lando, he had the honor of hearing his sister cum under Oscar's licks.
He tried not to get upset. After all, it was said that they looked good together. And Oscar is a good guy. He would never hurt his sister.
So if he's going to have to put up with all their moans, he will.
Because after all. Lando is a good big brother who only wants his sister to be happy.
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animeyanderelover · 5 months
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Anon: Cordelia, Karlheinz and Richter with a favorite child?
Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, obsession, possessive behavior, protective behavior, strictness, stalking, isolation, gaslighting
The favorite child
Cordelia Sakamaki
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🟣​You are her child. It doesn't matter if she even is your biological mother or not, you are her child. And as your mother she expects you to see her as one too. You have to call her 'mother' and if anything troubles you, you will seek out her. Don't even dare to go to your biological mother if she shouldn't be the one who birthed you. She wouldn't hurt you of course, at least not as much as she has physically hurt and punished any of her other boys, but if she loses her temper she might slap you very hard or pull your ears until it feels like she's about to tear it off. But she will bully, insult and mentally, and occasionally also physically, torture your real mother to the point of insanity. If she has to turn your real mother against you so that you just come running into her arms, she'll gladly do it. You'll eventually realize that she's doing what's best for you because only under her will you truly flourish and reach your full potential.
🟣​Cordelia will train you very strictly to make you as attached to her as possible. You are not allowed to love anyone besides her. You will always be only her baby and child. She's always taking you with her wherever she goes and completely neglects her triplets in favor of you. They aren't allowed to play with you because she deems you as something better, actively gloats about how much superior you are in front of them and spoils you with toys and clothes. You can get away with a lot more than any of her other sons could get but if you dare to go against her and show signs of rebellion, she'll do her best to snuff that spark out as quickly as possible. She'll throw you in a dark and cold room and leave you there until you cry and beg for her to forgive you. She always tells you what might happen if you would ever leave your mother's side and that you might get hurt or in real troubles. She keeps you safe and isolated, away from all things she deems you do not need in your life. You only need her to watch over you after all.
Karlheinz
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🍷​He has fathered six children so far and hasn't cared for any of his sons. So he doesn't expect much when you are born, his seventh child, but something about you seems to be different. Karlheinz can't quite put his finger around what it is that makes you different but he wants to satiate his peaking interest in you. He spends a lot more time with you than with his sons, makes time for you and actually cares about how you're raised. If your mother should be abusive or treat you bad in any way, he will punish her or even kill her if she's gone too far. She's disposable but he has to praise her for giving him such a fine child as you. That's about it for her usefullness though. He's starting to educate you from an early age on, one of his favorite activities is probably reading books to you and explaining the world to you. If he can't see you for a longer time, he writes you letters and makes time to read about any letter you send him.
🍷As soon as you're old enough, he permanently takes you with him. From that day on you travel with him everywhere and are only given the finest stuff in the world. He actively makes you forget about your mother, might even erase your memories if you should be too attached. You've grown up with seeing him as a caring and loving father so you never question him or some of the routines in your life. You're terribly isolated despite your thorough education​ and have never had proper social interactions with anyone besides him. You're terribly honest with him and tell him about anything because you've grown up to learn to tell your father everything because he will understand and help you. If you would ever hit a 'difficult' phrase, he wouldn't lash out on you. Instead he would pretend to support you only to manipulate the situation behind your back and break your spirits and morals so that you come back to him. You are his biggest and well hidden treasure, everything he ever wanted in his heir.
Richter
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🟩​Richter hasn't been a great uncle for any of his nephews either as he has also neglected them. Only you seem to be an exception for his feelings though as you're from the beginning very clingy and follow him around. It's possibly because your father has never been present in your life nor is your mother very loving and understanding so you cling to the only adult you have left now. Initially he is slightly irritated with the way you follow him like a little duckling around but with time he grows fond of your company. He starts warming up to you and grows less grumpy when with you. On your birthdays you always get a lot of presents from him and he spends a lot of time with you in general to make up for the neglect of your parents. Honestly, he is unable to understand how anyone could just ignore you or even dare to hurt you. You can do absolutely nothing wrong in his eyes and since he knows how the wives of his brother treat their children, he threatens your mother and siblings to not ever hurt you. He'll kill them otherwise.
🟩​You two often spend your time walking around the garden of the mansion with him either holding your tiny hands or carrying you in his arms. His already jealous feelings against his brother only grow worse as he grows obsessed over you and your well-being. How he wished that he could be your real father and not Karlheinz. He's already being much more of a father for you than his brother has ever been to any of his children anyways. If you actually call him 'father' by accident because he really is like a dad for you, Richter might shed a tear or two because it is very emotional for him to hear you call him that. It gets increasingly harder to leave you as he's constantly worried that in his absence the rest of your family might do something to you. He wants you with him all the time. So it isn't surprising when he one day tells you that you'll come with him, lying to you and telling you that both of your parents agreed to it too. With him you'll be so much safer and happier and he'll always protect you against all evil.
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starrierknight · 5 months
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╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 — 𝐀-𝐆
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pairing— dom!gn!reader x sub!gojo wc— 800 cws/tags— established relationship, AFAB!reader, pegging mentioned, brief dacryphilia, subspace mentioned
𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 | 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓
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⋆ ˚。★ 𝐀 is for 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 (what they’re like after sex)
Satoru insists on staying closer to you, saying he gets cold easily (despite feeling like a human heater), and you both know it's just because he wants to stay close to you. He likes resting his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, and he'll close his eyes with a satisfied smile on his face as he listens to your heartbeat calming.
Being Satoru, physical exertion is no real issue—his body recovers quickly. Emotionally speaking, he likes to check in with you, even if his throat is a little sore and it can be difficult to hear him. That's okay, he can just use it as an excuse to lean in closer. He wants to make sure that you had just as much fun as he did.
Loves gently trailing his fingers along your body, and he practically melts if you do the same, his eyes falling shut and sweet grin on his face. He whines and groans if you move too quickly; he knows that you should both bathe, you should both definitely hydrate and snack on something... But he can't help but want to indulge in the afterglow for just a little longer.
⋆ ˚。★ 𝐁 is for 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
𝐇𝐈𝐒: shoulders
Satoru is proud of his body, his strength and all the work and hardship that fortifies it. He likes the way his shoulders look and how strong they are, he likes the way your hands and lips feel on them, and he loves the lovebites and scratches you leave across them.
He has a harder time admitting it, but he likes the way his shoulders shake when he cries and trembles. It's hard for him to find any pleasure in 'weakness', but that changes when he's weak for you.
𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒: chest
Can you blame him? It's soft and warm and near your heart. Satoru sees your chest and he just wants to worship it, be it with mouth or hands. Loves sucking deep, dark hickies across the softest parts of it—you can tease him about being fixated on it and he won't deny it.
He gets hard just thinking about how your chest moves when you fuck him in missionary or mating press, or better yet when you ride him and his face is so, so close that he can see your chest heave for breath. Even more so if you fuck him from behind and he gets to feel it pressing against his back as he trembles underneath you.
⋆ ˚。★ 𝐂 is for 𝐂𝐔𝐌 (anything to do with cum, basically)
Satoru is so, so, so fucking messy. He never tires of crying and begging to cum inside you (if he's been good, maybe you'll let him). Seeing a hot, sticky load leaking out of your pussy and dripping down your thighs makes him dizzy—he's more than eager to cum for you again just to see the sight.
Another favourite place for him to cum is on your chest. What can he say? It appeals to the more possessive side of him again.
⋆ ˚。★ 𝐃 is for 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
If you two decide to move in together, he'll secretly judge the interior spaces to see how well they might accommodate you both if you wanted to fuck there. He tries to be slick about it, but the way he eyes up the kitchen counters or the shower or even the window sills is pretty telling. Everything has potential, he might as well think it over. He just tells himself he's being realistic.
The same goes for furniture. God forbid you try to keep a straight face while shopping for a new bed—he insists on trying out every single one in the shop, and he'll drag you to lay down on it with him. You and him have busted a few bedframes in your time, so it's better to be safe than sorry, right?
⋆ ˚。★ 𝐄 is for 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Satoru is no stranger to sex, and he had perfectly apt skills before you two were a couple.
That being said, you definitely opened some new doors for him after you got together. He considers himself a better lover now, and you certainly have no complaints.
⋆ ˚。★ 𝐅 is for 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 (this goes without saying)
Satoru prefers it if you can both see each others' faces. He wants to be able to see your every expression, and he wants to be sure that you get a nice view of his every reaction to your touch. If you're making him cry and beg for it, then he wants you to see!
Often, this ends up being cowgirl, lotus, or mating press.
⋆ ˚。★ 𝐆 is for 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘 (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? e.t.c.)
Let's be so fucking for real: this is Gojo Satoru we're talking about. D'you really think he can keep a straight face and be serious? Hell no!
Sometimes he'll whine out something particularly desperate and break out of subspace just to let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. If you both have a moment where your bodies come together and make a particularly lewd/loud noise, he'll get the giggles and maybe crack a joke.
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this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.
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angelicyoongie · 7 months
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lovesick (X)
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— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 4.8k — warnings: yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, spanking as punishment, minor injuries, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.
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Previous – Next
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You wake up to the sound of gravel crunching under Namjoon's shoes.
Your face is tucked against his chest, breathing in the scent of the crisp night air that lingers on his coat. It takes you a moment to reorient yourself, for the last tendrils of unconsciousness to slip away.
It all comes crashing down over you like a cold bucket of water as reality sets in; he's taking you back to the cabin.
It'll be as if the last hours never happened, as if you never stepped foot outside the sturdy wooden structure. You're going back to them – except, perhaps it won't be the same men that you left that you'll have to face once you step back inside. The soulmates you ran away from were terrible and selfish but they were never cruel. After your failed escape attempt, however, you no longer know if that still rings true. If that's something you can count on. 
Your body locks up at the thought of the monsters waiting for you down the road, muscles spasming with the need to move despite the utter exhaustion weighing you down.
Namjoon tightens his grip around your middle as you grow stiff, arms locking you securely against his body.
"You're awake," He notes, the usual honey in his voice gone. "It's for the best. We can deal with everything much quicker this way."
The fearful whine that shoots up your throat gets trapped behind your teeth, your lips too numb for the noise to pass through them. It takes great effort for you to move your head over, turning just enough that you're able to pick up on your surroundings. Namjoon must have parked just down the bend from the cabin, his steady steps already closing in on the dark silhouette looming between the trees in the distance. 
Your heart feels like it's trying to beat itself out of your chest as you pick up on muffled yells, shivers racing down your frozen spine as you make out six distinct voices. The soft light emanating from the cabin sends ferocious shadows dancing across the ground, their movements erratic and violent.
It gets harder to breathe the closer you get, your chest refusing to move as Namjoon steps up on the small patio in front of the entrance. Blood rushing in your ears, you try to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he reaches out for the handle, wishing you could just melt away into nothing. Anything would've been better than this.
The cabin goes deadly still as Namjoon pushes the door open. 
Your vision blurs as you're brought into the heat, your eyes stinging as you attempt to blink some moisture back into them. You can barely make out the six fuzzy figures scattered around the room, their bodies stock still as if they're frozen in time. The chilly wind that blows into the cabin is nothing compared to the sight that greets you as your eyes adjust – the six men in front of you looking everything from angry to icy to hurt. A few of them even have the gall to glare at you with something akin to betrayal; like you were only stringing them along for your amusement and not your survival. 
It leaves you trembling with fear, the knowledge that no matter what you do, nothing will make them understand that they're the ones in the wrong. That they're the selfish ones.
Namjoon takes another step forward, chest rising with a small sigh as he readjusts you in his grip. Perhaps he regrets bringing you back now that he can see the state the others are in, their hair and clothes rumpled, the furniture in the common room strewn about like a hurricane has torn through it.
You glance back up at his face in time to see him set his jaw, his voice tight as he says, "We're back." 
The door that slams shut behind him jerks the cabin back into motion, the noise that was sucked out before suddenly rolling over the room like a crashing wave. You screw your eyes shut as their yells blend into each other, feet thundering across the room as they stumble over themselves to reach you. 
"What were you thinking?!" You flinch as Taehyung's voice booms across the cabin. You can't discern if it's anger or concern that's got him so agitated, so loud, and that scares you. 
"Calm down, Taehyung. I know you were worried but this isn't the way to show it," Yoongi hisses. 
His voice drifts closer, a little softer, as he addresses you, "You're lucky Namjoon found you, Y/n. You're already chilled to the bone." 
"Never scare me like that again, angel," Seokjin sounds wobbly as he pats over your hair, hushing the choked noise you make at the contact. 
Your eyes flutter open against your will at the low, irritated snort that travels through the room.
Jimin stands with his arms crossed over his chest by the couch, scowling as the two oldest keep fretting over you. "Don't tell me you already forgot why you were so distraught in the first place, hyungs? Y/n ran away. She was just playing with us with whole time – she doesn't love us." 
Seokjin's fingers still in your hair, the warm touch of his hand slowly receding as he takes a step back. He throws a hard glance over his shoulder, mouth pinched in annoyance, "Jimin, did I not tell you to shut up for the rest of the night?" 
Jimin grits his teeth at Seokjin's tone, turning his head to stare blankly at the wall. 
"He's right though," Hoseok says, hand brushing over Jimin's shoulder as he steps closer. "Y/n tricked us. She betrayed the trust we gave her and we can't let that slide without any consequences." 
"What are you suggesting?" Namjoon leans back on his heels, fingers digging into your thigh.
"She deserves a punishment," Hoseok blankly states, eyebrows cocked as he stares you down, "Don't you agree, Y/n?" 
"N-no," You weakly shake your head.
The tsk you get from Hoseok in return makes you recoil, the fear in your body so tangible you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. 
"I think you're right, Hobi." 
A small, betrayed gasp leaves your lips as you hear Yoongi's careful drawl. His agreement stings more than expected, somehow you had deluded yourself into thinking that Yoongi wasn't as bad as the other men in the room; that he and Jungkook actually seemed to care a little for you and not just your soulmate connection.
Jungkook still hasn't moved from where he's sat in one of the big ratty armchairs near the couches. His doe eyes are shiny with tears when you meet them across the room. Jungkook starts curling in on himself the longer you look, shame pulling at his features as he ducks his head.
"Fine," Namjoon says, "But nothing too bad." 
"Of course not. I don't actually want to hurt sunshine, she just needs to learn a lesson," Hoseok scoffs.
The men around you share a look, a silent conversation passing between them. You have no idea what they're thinking but it frightens you to know that this must have been something they have already discussed, that they've already decided on a punishment should you ever disobey them. 
"Who–?" Seokjin trails off, biting his lip nervously between his teeth.
"I'll do it," Taehyung sounds chastised, his voice meek as he adds, "I should do it." 
He takes a seat in the middle of the couch, dragging his hands over his jeans as he gives Namjoon a nod to show that he's ready. 
"W-what, no!" You uselessly tug at Namjoon's coat as he strides across the room, your frozen limbs making it impossible to fight back as you're carefully manhandled across Taehyung's lap.
Fingers wrap around your ankles, keeping your legs glued against the couch as you futilely try to push yourself up with shaking arms. Another hand is pressed against the small of your back, rendering your movement useless. No matter how much you try to squirm, you're simply too exhausted and cold to shake them off.
It takes you a second to recognize the position you're in, disgust curling in your stomach as it hits you that you're about to be spanked. 
"I'm not a c-child," You bite through clattering teeth, fingernails digging into threadbare cushions. 
"No? You sure act like one," Hoseok scowls. "Big girls wouldn't run off like you did." 
You jerk as Taehyung's hand settles on the back of your thigh. You turn your head back to look at him as the others crowd around the couch, voice breaking as you whisper, "Please don't." 
Taehyung doesn't meet your eye. His gaze is trained resolutely on his hand, his expression pinched. The corner of his mouth is downturned as he moves his hand from your thigh to your butt, his long fingers easily spanning over one cheek.
You let out a shuddering breath at the unwanted touch, pressing your forehead to the couch to hide away from the six burning pairs of eyes that surround you. Taehyung's fingers flex against the material of your trousers as he murmurs something under his breath, the feeling so weirdly intimate it makes your eyes cloud over, hot tears trailing down your temple. 
"It's just ten, babe. We could do a lot worse," He comments gruffly. 
There's no preamble before Taehyung raises his hand and delivers the first hit, the harsh smack echoing through the room. You bite your tongue, choking down the strangled cry that tries to rush up your throat.
You feel the imprint of his fingers burn on your cheek, the sudden pain so consuming you barely register how someone else hisses out a low curse.
It's only when Taehyung is on the third hit that you feel how he jolts as his hand makes contact; how it takes him a moment to collect himself before he delivers the next one. The fifth smack brings a weird sense of clarity to you, Yoongi's irritated cough finally making you realize that you're all feeling Taehyung's slaps. Your soulbond is connected through pain so the hurt that blooms with every hit doesn't just affect you – it has an impact on them as well.
The somber atmosphere in the room isn't just because they're disciplining you for running away; they're also punishing themselves for letting it happen. 
You let out a harsh breath at the next smack. Despite the numbness in your limbs, you can feel how horrible your butt is stinging, the alternating hits doing little to lessen the pain a new one brings. It becomes harder and harder to think with each hit, your mind slowly falling apart under the excruciating combination of fear, exhaustion and pain. 
The final smack seems to linger in the room and the silence that follows feels so thick you might crumble under it. 
Your right-hand aches as Taehyung uses his to lightly rub over your smarting ass, his breathing shaky as he tries to soothe the bruises that are no doubt already starting to form. 
"Hyung," Taehyung rasps.
The hands pressing on your back and ankles disappear in an instant. Taehyung springs away as Namjoon lifts you, moving your body into Seokjin's waiting arms. You try to blink away the tears clinging to your lashes as Seokjin leans you back against his chest, taking some of the pressure off your backside as you're maneuvered to lay on your side. 
"You're absolutely freezing, angel," He tuts. He motions for Yoongi to grab him a nearby blanket, quickly tucking you in. The warmth that wraps around you is a small comfort, but it's not nearly enough to quell the shivers that are still rattling through your body.
"Let's do this quick, she needs to warm up." 
You swallow thickly as Namjoon kneels by your feet, gently pulling your socks off. They're so cold you struggle to move your toes. 
It's not until a rush of warm air hits your exposed skin that you realize you're hurt. Your soles are aching something fierce and you catch a glimpse of blood on the socks Namjoon throws down beside him. 
"Darling," Namjoon furrows his brows as he looks at the torn skin, tongue poking into his cheek in disappointment. "Why did you do this to yourself?" 
He shakes his head as if you're going to answer him. Heaving out a heavy sigh, Namjoon wordlessly accepts a small basin of warm water and a cloth from Hoseok, wetting and wringing the material out before he brings it to your feet. 
You let out a wounded hiss as he makes contact, your foot involuntarily jerking away from the water that stings your open cuts. The quick movement causes you to drag your sole against the couch and it only causes you more hurt, a sharp pain shooting up your leg.
"Fuck," You whimper, body shaking against Seokjin's as Namjoon quickly reaches out to grab your foot, holding it securely over the side of the couch. You can feel Seokjin's leg twitch as the pain moves through the soulbond, the others grimacing as they feel it too.
"Angel, please be careful," Seokjin admonishes as he tucks his head over your shoulder, holding you in a tight hug as he rests his cheek against yours. 
You shudder as Namjoon once again brings the cloth back to your skin, wincing as he meticulously and carefully cleans up all the dried blood and dirt clinging to your wounds. Namjoon's voice is perturbed as he moves on to your other foot, holding it with a firm grip as he says, "This is why we were holding you down during your punishment, darling, so you wouldn't hurt yourself more by moving around. We don't enjoy doing any of this." 
You choose not to voice your disbelief. Judging by the sour look Jimin sports as he stares you down, you're sure it's written all over your face regardless. 
Namjoon hands off the dirty water and cloth to Yoongi, switching it out with an antiseptic cream that he starts dabbing on your cuts. 
Seokjin's warm breath hits the corner of your mouth as he cautiously asks, "What made you come back, Joon? You weren't supposed to return until tomorrow." 
The bandage that's being wrapped around your left foot pauses, Namjoon tilting his head as he mulls over what to respond.
"I think it was that pull you've talked about before. I just suddenly felt like I had to go back to the cabin, that I was needed here," He lets out a low snort, humorless. "I guess whatever feeling it was, was correct." 
"Interesting," Yoongi muses. He leans against Jungkook's chair, absentmindedly patting the youngest's hair. Jungkook leans into the comforting touch, face still marred with shame as he chances a glance over at you in Seokjin's arms. 
You stare blankly down at Namjoon's hands as he finishes up one bandage and moves on to the next, his words echoing in your head. Did the soulbond somehow call him back? If it knew you were trying to put distance between yourself and your soulmates, can it work against you to keep you from separating from them?
You don't want to believe that it can affect you that much. But if it is true, does that mean your own soul is betraying you – that it'll do whatever it takes to keep you close to these monsters who don't actually care about you, as long as it'll keep the bond strong? 
"It's definitely too strange to just be a coincidence," Hoseok purses his lips.
The sweater you picked out this morning suddenly feels too heavy on your shoulders. Was it just by chance that you picked out one that belongs to Namjoon, or is there something else to it? Can you even trust yourself anymore? 
You barely register as Namjoon finishes wrapping up your foot, the blanket being pulled away from your body as Seokjin lets go of your waist. Your chest is tight and your vision spotty as you're handed off to Yoongi, too many awful thoughts and feelings all vying for your attention at once. 
You feel yourself being carried again, the lights going from soft to bright, but it's like everything is underwater, muffled and out of reach. Yoongi's blurry face is suddenly in front of yours and it takes you once, twice, to focus on what he's saying; for the words to make any sense. "–can you do it yourself?" 
Yoongi sighs as you stare blankly back at him. He brushes a finger down your trembling jaw, wincing at how cold your skin feels. "Y/n, you really need to warm up. I'm going to place a stool for you inside the shower so that you can rest and we can keep your feet outside of it and dry. I know you'd rather not have me undress you, but are you able to do that yourself?" 
"Yes," You croak, disgust rippling across your body as you think of Yoongi undressing you, of any of them seeing you so vulnerable. 
"Okay," Yoongi says, unconvinced. You bite your lip harshly as you're placed down on the closed toilet seat, the pressure awful on your bruised ass. 
Yoongi steps over to turn the shower on for you, the old pipes rattling as water starts spewing out of them. He keeps his hand under the spray until he deems the temperature good enough. His expression is sorry yet firm as steps back, nodding to the door as he explains, "I can't leave the room but I'll keep my back turned to you the entire time. You're too weak to be left on your own right now. I won't turn around until you tell me it's okay. I promise." 
"Do you want help to get over to the stool once you're undressed?" Yoongi eyes your bandaged feet, eyebrows drawn tight with worry.
"No," You whisper.
The toilet is only a few steps away from the shower but even just that feels like miles with a body so tired and battered. Still, you're willing to push yourself until you collapse if it means none of them will touch you like that. 
"Just let me know if you need help, love," Yoongi sighs as he walks over to the door, facing it head-on like promised.
Getting undressed is a battle but it's one you refuse to lose. You keep your eyes locked on Yoongi's back as you pull off layer after layer, the steady steam rising in the bathroom only making your shivers worse. You refuse to strip down further than your underwear, the pieces offering you some modesty in a situation that just feels so mortifying. 
You pull yourself up on your feet with a yelp, legs shaking with pain as you slowly hobble over to the shower. You're not sure how you manage to maneuver yourself down on the stool but you do, and the relief of warm water cascading down your frozen body is so great you can't hold back the sob that rips out of your throat. 
Yoongi's back tenses as he hears the broken noise, his hands gripping the doorframe to keep himself in place. He never turns his head, choosing instead to rest it against the door, taking deep and measured breaths as he listens to your choked cries and whimpers.
The warmth slowly returning to your limbs is downright awful. The cold clinging to your skin refuses to bulge at first, and when it finally does slip, it feels like pins and needles being hammered into your flesh as the water rains down on you. The shivers slowly ebb away the longer you sit in the shower, your dry calves and feet prickling with the weird temperature difference.
You lose track of time as the heat gently returns to your body, face swollen and puffy as the last of your hopelessness trickles out through your eyes. 
You're exhausted and everything hurts. It's like your mind and body has been fractured into a thousand pieces, all of them poking and pricking you no matter what muscle you flex or what direction your thoughts try to stray.
You just want to sleep, to forget, for a little while. 
Yoongi straightens up as the water is turned off. His voice is hoarse, much like he's been crying himself when he asks, "Are you done, Y/n? Are you still cold?" 
You take a deep, shaking breath, filling your lungs with as much bravery as you can muster. "'m done." 
"Wrap yourself up in the towel by the shower, love. Let me know when you're covered, yeah? I'll open the door and grab the clothes Jungkook left for you." 
You do as Yoongi asks, watching as he opens the door just enough to snatch the clothes waiting for him outside. He walks backward towards the shower, still somewhat respectful of your privacy as he leaves them on the toilet. "Take the time you need to get dressed. I'll wait by the door until you're ready." 
Your mind is hazy and drifting as you attempt to dry yourself off, exhaustion weighing your lashes down. Slipping your wet underwear off under your towel in exchange for Jungkook's clothes isn't an easy feat, pain still flaring up your feet as you're forced to put pressure on them. Still, it's a small consolation that Yoongi doesn't attempt to help you until you raise your voice and say that you're done.
Yoongi sweeps you up into his arms before you can even blink, strong arms holding you close to his chest. He swallows hard as he glances down at you, voice unbearably soft as he says, "I really am sorry, Y/n." 
He, much like Namjoon, knows he won't be getting an answer. Yoongi steps out of the bathroom with measured steps, making sure not to move you around too much. The cabin is dark and quiet as he carries you down the hallway, the others nowhere to be seen.
"It's been a long day for all of us," Yoongi mutters as if he senses your confusion. 
Your fingers find Yoongi's shirt as he steps closer to your room, shock hitting you like a lightning bolt as you see the state of it. The door is broken off its hinges, halfway torn off the frame. The desk you pushed against it is flush with the wall and the rest of your room looks absolutely trashed. Furniture has been flipped over as if they were looking for you under it; your belongings scattered everywhere. The brute force they must have used to get into the room makes you realize just how badly this return, this punishment, could have gone for you. 
The moment passes as Yoongi walks further down the hall, but the sick feeling in your stomach lingers. 
He nudges one of the ajar doors with his foot, stepping into the room as it opens. The bedroom is bathed in soft light, the pillows on the bed fluffed and the covers already drawn aside. Yoongi carefully places you down on the mattress before he tucks you in, his expression troubled as he watches how you wince and grimace as you try to get comfortable. 
"This is Seokjin hyung's room," Yoongi explains, "He'll be staying with you tonight. We ... we're going to be taking turns watching over you." 
"Thank you for the introduction, Yoongi-chi," Seokjin's smile is a little strained as he enters the room, a glass of water clutched in his hand. He places it down on the table next to you, patting Yoongi's back before he takes a seat in the plush chair that faces the bed. 
"You can go rest now." 
"Alright," Yoongi nods. He meets your gaze for a split second, mumbling out a gentle goodnight before he turns on his heel and leaves.
Seokjin lets out a small sigh as the door clicks shut. "I should've given him a talking to for not drying your hair properly but I'm sure you're tired, angel. Damp hair must be the least of your worries right now, huh?" He shakes his head.
You pull the covers up to your chin, eyes alert despite how your lids keep attempting to fall shut every other second. There's not an ounce of trust for them in your body but it's so terribly difficult to stay awake when you want to do nothing but sleep. 
"I'm sure you saw the state of your old room," Seokjin winces, "You'll be spending one night with each of us on rotation. You might not wish to have us so close all the time but you shattered the trust we had in you, Y/n."
He folds his hands in his lap with a frown, staring down at his slightly crooked fingers as he says, "You can use the bathroom alone as long as one of us is right outside of the door, but aside from that, we're going to have to watch your every step. We won't allow you to hurt yourself again. I'm sorry it had to come to this but, well, it was the best thing we could settle on." 
You close your eyes to avoid the sad look Seokjin gives you, your chest constricting with fury. If they're trying to guilt trip you, it's not working. You can't believe they're trying to frame all of this as them simply looking out for you when in reality, they're robbing you of any agency you have. 
As you take deep breaths to quell the anger bubbling in your stomach, you feel yourself growing heavier and heavier, your body sinking into the mattress below. You want to be angry, you want to fight, but what's the use? You won't get another chance at escaping the cabin and your own soul clings to the soulbond, refusing to let you weaken your connection to them. 
You fist the sheets, sniffling as darkness begins to drag you under. If the universe wants you here, wants you to stay with them, maybe.. maybe it's time you give up and accept it. 
You wake up, drowsy, to the sound of something clattering. It takes you a second to realize that it's coming from you – your teeth rattling in your mouth from the cold that has seeped into the room while you slept. Everything is dark aside from the pale moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room, your breath fogging up the air in front of you as you breathe.
You gingerly flip over on your other side, pulling the sheets as tight to your body as they can go, but it doesn't help fend the cold off. It's no wonder this cabin is abandoned during most of the year, not if it's reliant on the fireplace in the common room to heat up the entire place. 
After what feels like an eternity of shivering, you hear Seokjin's raspy voice calling out in the quiet room. "Angel? Are you cold?" 
Fabric rustles as he shifts in the chair. You hold yourself as still as possible as footsteps pad across the wooden floors, Seokjin's darkened silhouette coming into view. He hesitates by the side of the bed for a second, just enough for your teeth to start clattering again before he makes up his mind and climbs in. The mattress dips as Seokjin's weight settles upon it, the man in front of you scooting down until he's facing you in the dark. 
A rush of cold air hits your body as he raises the sheets to shimmy under them, an arm curling around your waist before you can even think to open your mouth. Seokjin presses himself flush against your body, mindful of your injuries as he tucks your face into his neck. 
"I'm still upset with you, angel, and I know you're upset with me, but you need my body heat if you want to sleep." 
Seokjin is very warm. 
You inch closer without even meaning to, your sleepy brain desperate for the heat that radiates off him. Seokjin lets out a small gasp as your cold nose skims against his throat, his hand pressing between your shoulder blades to keep you close.
Sleep slowly begins to weigh down your eyelids again as you soak up Seokjin's warmth, your body relaxing so deeply it feels like your bones have been turned to mush. The last thing you remember is Seokjin nuzzling his face into your hair, lips pressing against it in a soft kiss that makes your heart flutter.
Perhaps, if you had been a little more awake, you would've realized it wasn't fear that made it skip a beat.
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a/n: you can read ch 11 of lovesick early by clicking here!
it only took ten months but we're back baby!! how are we feeling about what happened in this chapter? namjoon bringing her back, the boys' reaction and her "punishment", her private moment with yoongi and seokjin ... lots of things happened so i would love to hear what you're thinking!!
see you in the next chapter and remember to wish jimin a happy b-day!! 💖
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oikasugayama · 3 months
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Hi can I request a chart on bsd boys with a super shy s/o ☺️
of courseeeee <3 i was horribly shy as a child and still am to some extent, so some of these assumptions are based on my own experience!
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Though he likes your shyness, he sometimes finds it annoying
Akutagawa (likes that you keep to yourself in public so enemies tend to overlook you, but he doesn't like having conversations on your behalf because you're too shy to make a phone call), Fyodor (likes that you're quiet and keep to yourself when other people are around, but doesn't like when you get shy toward him), Jouno (likes that you don't approach people or start conversations, but hates when he has to guess what you want because you won't just say it).
He likes that you're shy and finds it very cute when you need him to help you with social things.
Nikolai (you cling to him in public; sometimes he likes to disappear and watch from afar as you panic and search for him because the look of joy and relief when you finally spot him goes straight to his heart), Ango (feels like you're safe from harm because you keep to yourself and let him run a lot of errands for you; he loves feeling needed by you), Sigma (is surrounded by bold people, so you're a breath of fresh air being fairly quiet and calm; he'd do anything for you at the drop of a hat and doesn't even realize you need the help because you're shy), Junichiro (is also fairly timid, so he likes having a quiet, introverted relationship with you; you spend a lot of time at home playing games and cuddling; he can overrule his own anxiety to do things for you), Bram (is endeared that you're quiet and shy when others are around; he hates when people consider you his trophy wife or ask if he has you under a spell; he'll get in fights with people over this), Poe is the only person you've ever met who's as shy as you are; he hides in public, he trembles when he has to ask for something; only you and Ranpo know how fun and silly he actually is, and only they know the same about you), Mori (adores your timidness and enjoys controlling you as much as you'll let him; it's not necessarily toxic but it can certainly get there...), Oda (considers you as beautiful as the cherry blossoms in the spring after a dark, cold winter; he'd do anything for you, no questions asked), Chuuya (enjoys protecting you, helping you, cheering you up; he does wish you could have a bit more confidence because he wants everyone to know how radiant you are, but he's content keeping your shine to himself).
He generally finds it cute when you get shy, but wants to help you be more confident.
Fukuzawa (understands that it can be scary to talk to people, so he never pushes you and while he happily does things for you, he also gradually coaches you into being more confident), Dazai (selfishly loves that you cling to him in public and need him to do things like order at restaurants on your behalf; he just wishes you knew how much power you have and thinks it'd be hot if you acted really confidently sometimes), Tachihara (feels so important when he gets to help you, but sometimes he wishes he had a bold, dynamic partner who would go out with him and do all the crazy things he wants to do without shying away), Atsushi (finds you very cute and is happy to do things that you're too shy to do, but he recognizes his own lack of confidence in you and wants you to blossom the way he did), Tetcho (thinks that you're sweet if not a bit naive and wants to make you happy; he also thinks you'd be happier if you didn't need to rely on him so much).
He gets annoyed when you're "overly shy" and wants you to be more confident.
Ranpo (doesn't understand why you can't just say what you want to say and do what you want to do; has no concept of anxiety and is not helpful), Kunikida (gets frustrated when your shyness messes up his scheduled plans; he wants you to be more confident for your benefit but also his), Fukuchi (tells you he doesn't want a partner he has to take care of, and tells you to get used to doing things on your own), Mushitaro (is very independent and wants a partner who is equally so; he gets annoyed when you need help or cling to him in public and constantly tries to make you more independent). (Bonus discussion on the longevity of these four relationships.)
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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months
Text
JJK men after hurting (y/n)
Pairing: Choso x reader; Gojo x reader
Word Count: 4,7k (Gojo's part is huge)
Warnings: this is drama over drama so be prepared, injury in Choso's part, mentioned pregnancy and breakup in Gojo's part, also Geto is an a-hole in here and it isn't 100% accurate to the original story-timeline, it's getting veeeery heated my lovelys, but also comfort but mostly hurt
As usual, I am very thankful for every little like, comment or reblog (thank you anon hehe). Let me know what you think of this, I literally poured my heart and soul into these two parts <3
Tags: @sanicsmut I just know you'll like this girl, @chilichopsticks
Choso Kamo
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„(y/n), this is nothing I will discuss with you right now. Just stay here.”
“I can’t let you kill him, this isn’t right. His death won’t bring back your brothers!”, you shout urgently, hands desperately trying to keep him from walking away.
“I always appreciate your opinion and support. But this is something I have to do for myself. Don’t get in the way.”
With one last glance back he’s gone, lost in the neon signs around you, shadow immerged into darkness.
Your brain goes into panic mode immediately, palms sweaty just by the thought of him haunting that boy down. How strange it is that you are able to call Choso your boyfriend. Choso Kamo, a reincarnated curse that is over 150 years old. Choso Kamo, who seems cold-hearted to people when he first meets them. Choso Kamo, who loves his family more than anything else.
You know this isn’t him, that killing Yuji Itadori is nothing but an act of revenge for him that he hopes will make him feel better.
“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”
He never answered this question. He didn’t have to, given the fact that he just stared at you with furious eyes. You know all too well how it broke him to lose his brothers through the hands of some random jujutsu sorcerers. Fuck, you were just as heartbroken as he was. But if revenge is the only solution, wouldn’t this little game go on to infinity?
This isn’t the way, this isn’t the man you love. And you won’t let him go berserk only to regret what he did later on.
There is only one thing you can you now.
Your feet start moving on their own, following his shadow through the dark hallways of Shibuya’s train station. You aren’t a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a grade 2 in sorcerer terms. But maybe your presence will be enough to stop him. Maybe his love is greater than the hatred he carries in his heart for that Idadori boy.
After all, it is a miracle in itself that he really loves you, a human being. Instead of killing you right on the spot he decided to safe you and even take care of your multiple wounds back then when you first met. You are not only hopelessly in love with him, but owe him his life. It’s time for you to give something back.
The only thing that echoes through the hallways are your very own rapid steps and sharp breaths. Please let him be okay, please let him still search for that boy. Your forehead glisters in sweat, the area only illuminated by the changing neon signs.
Finally a sound. You stop in your tracks immediately and close your eyes while holding your breath. It’s far away, but those are steps and dampened rumbling. It has to be him. And he’s definitely not alone. 
You can’t waste any time. As fast as your shaky legs carry you, you run down the hallway, eyes roaming around to catch a glimpse of his dark messy hair. Did he found Yuji Itadori? From what you’ve heard, Sukuna’s vessel is a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer himself. But despite that, you know how much power Choso holds. If they meet, there will definitely be a fierce fight and your boyfriend might get hurt in the process.
But Yuji gets killed.
Suddenly water starts to soak into your shoes, pooling the surrounding area entirely. You furrow your brows. Where the hell is that coming from? Aren’t you underground? And also, it wasn’t raining outside…
Instinctively you follow the stream, noises growing louder and louder. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide open in realization. They have to be in there, in that toilet. The only think you are able to do is run. Water splashes around you, completely taking your already dimmed sight under the purple neon lights.
Until you see your boyfriend. Bending over the severely injured body of what looks like Yuji Itadori, fist ready to hit him with his last shot.
You don’t know what has gotten into you. Before you are able to even think about a plan you sprint forward and shield the boy’s body with your own.
Only to get hit in your stomach with full force by your own boyfriend.
For a moment you forget how to breathe, the only sound being the constant ringing in your ears along with a silent cough. Are you dead? You can’t tell with your sight completely turned black and your empty head.
“(y/n)”, is all Choso is able to breathe out.
It happened so fast he couldn’t react anymore. Within the split of a second, he was only able to direct his fist away from your head into your stomach.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
A trail of blood escapes your lips along with a cough, gaze completely empty. Did he kill you? His guts turn, he feels like fainting away. Oh god, what did he do?
“(y/n).”
You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He told you to stay out of this, to leave this to him. Why on earth did you throw yourself in front of Yuji Itadori? How could you risk your life so reckless?
“(y/n)?”
You don’t react, glossy eyes wide open, directed into darkness. His shaky hands pull up your shirt, revealing a huge bruise. He broke a few of your ribs, that’s for sure.
“(y/n)!”, he begs again, repeating your name over and over like a prayer.
His hands grab your body and pull you away from Itadori while all he can do is kneeling next to you. Are you even breathing? Fuck, you are so cold and completely soaked in water that still pours down without mercy.
“(y/n)…”
His hand caresses your cheek gently. You just have to wake up. This is a bad dream, right? He didn’t just punch you with full force, he isn’t responsible for you laying here with broken bones and bruises. No, he didn’t just hurt the love of his life, his precious girlfriend.
Are those tears running down his cheeks? He can’t tell. The water pouring down on him makes it hard to see.
“Don’t…kill…him…”, you suddenly mumble.
Choso feels like flying and dying at the same time, relieved by hearing your voice while being absolutely crushed be the fact that he is responsible for your poor state.
“Why did you throw yourself in front of him, (y/n)? I never wanted to hurt you. I would have never hurt you…”, he stutters, pressing your upper body against his.
You cough violently, feeling as if your spilling your guts out every second. God, you feel terrible. If you move a single inch you’ll faint away into darkness.
But despite the pain that rolls over you like a tsunami, you force your eyes to look at him? His beautiful screwed up face, his glistening eyes. Is he crying? This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.
“I know you didn’t wanted to hurt me. Did you kill him?”
Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too distant to get under the pouring water. But the second your words reach his ears, Choso can’t hold back any longer.
He’s crumbling in front of you like a piece of paper, hands holding onto you for dear life.
Choso almost killed you. The love of his life, the only thing that’s worth living. And for what? Because he was seeking revenge.
“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”
Your wise words repeat themselves over and over in his head. Fuck, if he only listened to you. He shouldn’t have agreed to work with Geto in the first place out of sheer rage. No, he could lay in bed with you at the moment, hearing about what is currently happening at Shibuya in the news.
Then this wouldn’t have happened. Then you wouldn’t lay in front of him severely injured.
His whole face is screwed up, trembling fingers clenched to tight that they bleed while a sob escapes his lips.
All of this is his fault.
“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so so sorry”, he cries out, placing his head on your chest.
“Is he dead?”, you croak out, tired eyes wandering to the boy’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall.
“Yes…Yes he does…”
A weak smile forms on your lips. So this wasn’t in vain. After all, you reached your goal.
“Thank god…”, you mutter.
Choso’s guilty conscience eats him up from the inside. Why? Why the hell did he think killing Yuji Itadori is a good idea in the first place? Despite the deaths of his brothers, despite all the pain he’s been through, despite the fact that he isn’t even human.
He loves you with all his heart. Your gentle disposition that is the opposite of his cold-hearted one. Your friendly smile that outshines his emotionless expression every time. The way you love him although he didn’t even know what love is when he first met you.
You showed him so many facets of life and he tramples on all the things you taught him.
“I will get you out of here. And I promise will every fiber of my being that I will change, that something like this will never happen again”, he blurts out.
“You don’t have to change, darling. You just need to decide on your perspective of life.”
Everything hurts, you feel like dying from the inside. Although you don’t seem to bleed externally, the stinging taste of blood in your mouth tells you you are severely injured. A load moan escapes your lips when Choso gently lifts you off the ground, body screaming out in agony.
With a gentle kiss on your forehead and tears still running down his cheeks. Something like this will never happen again. Not through the hands of others and especially not his.
God, never again will he ever hurt you.
Satoru Gojo
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Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you try to figure out what you hold in your hands. Is this…positive?
Are you really pregnant?
Two lines. Two clearly visible lines. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, your thoughts are racing.
Is this really happening? Are you dreaming?
No, the proof lies visible in your hands. You are pregnant. You are expecting a child with Satoru Gojo.
“Listen (y/n)…I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…Have you ever thought about having a baby? I mean, you’ve been my girlfriend for more than 6 years, my fiancé for half a year. I’ve never seen me as a father and I know this isn’t the best timing considering what’s going on in the word at the moment. But the thought of you with a precious baby belly, a child with your eyes…This thought filled me with so much joy recently that I wanted to talk about this with you.”
You couldn’t find words, his sudden outburst caught you off guard. But oh how much you thought about that too, how it would feel to have a child with the man you love more than anything else on this world, to start a family with Satoru. Tears started to sting your eyes, arms wrapped around him tightly.
“I would absolutely love that!”, you cried out, face buried against his broad chest while he stroked your hair just the way you like it.
“We don’t have to rush anything. Just living like usual without protection”, he mumbled against your head.
“I love you so much, Satoru. Nothing makes me happier than being with you. And maybe next year there will be three of us.”
He smiled down at you the way that always makes you see stars. God, how much you love that man. The thought alone to spend the rest of your life with him and your little family filled your heart with nothing buy warmth and joy.
“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything else”, he mumbled.
Satoru. What are you supposed to do? Call him, text him, drive to Jujutsu High? You’re on your day off while he told you this morning that he’ll teach the new student, Yuta. As much as you’d love to get in your car immediately and meet him in person, you shouldn’t disturb him right now. No, this is something special. This needs time, a calm evening and privacy.
A little message can’t hurt though.
Hey babe, can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got some exciting news. Love you <3
You let out your shaky breath, eyes darting to the test again. Is this really your life? It surely can’t get any better than that.
-Satoru’s POV-
“I hate so say it, but I guess there’s no way out of this”, Shoko comments.
But there has to be. After all, he’s the strongest, he’s the only one who’s able to protect you right. This shouldn’t be the only way to save you, there has to be more.
“I will find a way around this”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, hands so tensed up that his veins pop out.
“You can’t. There’s absolutely no way to keep her save. She’ll insist on going with you if you tell her. And if you don’t she’ll find out and come to your place. Or worse, someone else will find her. She is the safest when she’s gone.”
Fuck. Satoru slams his fist against the table, blood squirting. He knows she’s right. Deep down, he is very aware of the fact that no matter how he twists and turns it, you’re in danger. Suguru made that very clear. He has to make a decision now, even if it breaks his own heart.
“So what’s the solution then, huh? Breaking up with her?”, he barks at Shoko.
“If you really want to make sure that she’s safe and gone, yes. Aren’t her parents living far away from here?”
That’s not what he wanted to hear. Thick rage crawls up his spine and takes his sight. He’ll kill all of them. Every single one of these curses and Suguru’s accomplices. This shouldn’t be the only way, he shouldn’t have to break the heart of the women he loves most.
Fuck, how much he hates to see you cry. Just a few days ago, he told you that he wanted to have kids with you, to start a family, he proposed to you. This will not only break your heart, but shatter you into million pieces.
“I get that it’s rough and that you don’t wanna do it. But if you want to make sure that (y/n) is safe, you have to make her believe that it’s over.”
“What if I’m hiding her somewhere at Jujutsu High? What if I’m staying by her side?”
“She’ll never allow that and you know it. (y/n) would rather die herself than letting other people suffer because you aren’t there.”
She’s right. Deep down Satoru knows that every word Shoko says is true.
- Later that evening –
You almost fall off the couch in excitement when you hear keys turning in the lock. He’s finally home! It must have been a pretty rough day if he wasn’t even able to reply to your text. Your fingers hold onto the test in your hands for dear life, heart jumping up and down in joy. How will he react? Will he laugh, will he cry? You don’t know. But he’ll surely be cheerful.
“Hey babe, I need to talk about something with you!”
The sound of your joyful voice alone makes him want to break down. Fuck, you don’t deserve this, none of this is your fault at all. So why does he have to break your heart so violently? He shakes his head, blindfold covering his already glossy eyes. There’s no way out of this. He needs to hurt you in order to save you.
“Oh, there you are”, you breathe out when you catch a glimpse of him.
Satoru looks as breathtaking as always, albeit a little drained. It must have been a rough day for him. But your news will definitely brighten up his mood.
“Babe, there’s something absolutely exciting I have to tell y-“
“(y/n)”.
The harsh tone in his voice quiets you down immediately, the grin on your face washed away in the wind.
“I have something to talk about”, he announces.
Why does he have to be so cold? What has gotten into him? Worry lines disrupt your face.
“Oh, did something happen?”
The innocent tone in your voice kills him right on the spot along with your stunning glimmering orbs…No, he needs to do this. After all it’s for your well-being. You’ll see that too, hopefully.
“I’m breaking up with you.”
You hold your breath, eyes scanning over his stunning face for any hint of sarcasm, for an emotion. But no, all he does is staring down at you with stone cold orbs, arms crossed in front of his chest.
You feel like fainting, world collapsing around you. No, this can’t be true. He can’t be serious. Not long ago, he told you he wants a child with you, he asked you to marry him. Your heart clenches, tears start glistering in your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.
“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head in disbelief.
“I’m breaking up with you, (y/n)”, he insists.
This isn’t a joke or a dream. You can tell that he’s serious, that he means every word he says.
“Why?”
“I don’t love you anymore.”
You can’t believe your ears.
“Just yesterday, you told me over and over how much you love me, you…you had sex with me, Satoru. Just a few hours ago.”
You can’t stop your tears from falling anymore, the feeling of this indescribable loss pulls the ground from under your feet.
“It meant nothing to me.”
His words hit you with full force, pushing you to sit down in order to not collapse onto the floor. Was all of this a game for him? And what about…?
Oh god, you feel like throwing up.
“I’m pregnant, Satoru.”
His heart stops. Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, almost too low for him to understand. Did you really just say that?
“What did you say?”
“I’m pregnant!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs.
Pregnant… You’re pregnant. You’re expecting his child, the child he told you he wants. You’ll be family! This is absolutely fantastic, you have to celebrate-
No. Satoru stops the seed of joy in his heart immediately. Now is not the right time for that. After all, he’s about to break up with you at the moment.
“I don’t care.”
His word cut through his very own heart like a knife, your face twisted in agony simply takes his breath away. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of those venomous words he spits at you. But he does it so you are safe. Yes, over and over he tells himself that this is for your best, that at least you’ll be out of the firing line. You’ll be safe and sound, you and his unborn child.
“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something. I don’t want to see you here any longer.”
In this moment, you feel like dying. Your past, present and future plays itself in front of your inner eye, reminding you of all the precious moments together. Was all of this a lie? Does he even care about you?
Like in trance you get up, grabbing nothing but your wallet and phone. You need to get away from here before you break down completely. If this is how he feels, he doesn’t deserve to see your grief.
God, he wants to break down in front of your feet, completely mesmerized by the way you carry yourself so well after his harsh words. Hopefully you will understand that he did this for you. Even though he broke your heart, you’ll live. And this is all that matters…
“Goodbye then, Gojo.”
The venomous sound of his last name out of your mouth makes him collapse onto the couch the second you close the door behind your back, tears glistening in his eyes.
Why? Why on earth did this just happen? Why did he have to hurt you like this? God, please let you understand it when all of this madness is over. Please let you be okay…
- Day of the night parade –
“Oh dear, look at this”, your mother breathes out while turning up the TV volume.
You gaze at the flickering pictures without any emotions, dark circles surrounding your eyes from all the nights without any sleep.
Satoru? You haven’t heard a word from him since that evening. That evening that altered your brain chemistry forever. That evening that showed you his real face. Since you’ve had nowhere else to go and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, you stayed with your parents ever since.
“What is going on at Tokyo?”, your father mutters.
Huh, looks like absolute chaos. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount of destruction, the reporter whose head gets ripped away by…
Your heart sinks.
This was a curse, without any doubt. What about Satoru?
No. You shake your head vehemently. This isn’t about him. What about your students, Nanami, Shoko, all the others? Are they okay? What is going on there? Suddenly you feel like standing up, too excited to sit.
You swore to never step a foot into Jujutsu High again, to start over somewhere else. But this…You can’t just sit here in silence with all your powers while your friends might die through the hands of curses.
“I need to leave”, you announce.
“What? But you said you want to stay here. (y/n), if this is about him…-“
“It’s not”, you interrupt your mother immediately.
“I need to watch after my friends.”
Yes. Screw Satoru and whatever he’s up to. Mindlessly your hands caress your little bump. This is your responsibly, the least you can do.
- At Toyko –
“Gojo-sensei, (y/n) is here”, Maki announces through her communicator as you walk through the barrier with ease.
Impossible.
His eyes widen in pure horror. All this pain and grieving over the last few weeks, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you, the countless thinking about your precious little baby.
And now you’re right here where you shouldn’t be, running into the arms of Suguru without even knowing it.
“Oh, I didn’t expect he’d be so dumb”, a painful familiar voice behind you suddenly speaks out.
You turn around, taking in the appearance of none other than Suguru Geto.
“Are you responsible for this whole mess?”, you question.
He steps forward, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Fuck, this isn’t good. Suguru is a special grade, he could kill you without even trying. Are your students around? Maybe they are at Tokyo, maybe they are safe.
“Did Satoru send you here? Apparently he doesn’t care about you”, Suguru’s voice comments dryly.
Your heart immediately stings in agony, fingertips trembling. Just a few innocent words that break you completely after weeks of pretending you’re okay.
“He broke up with me a few weeks ago”, you clarify.
Suguru breaks out in hysteric laughter while all you can do is stare at him and hold back your tears. How is he able to laugh about your feelings? Before he went berserk, you and Suguru got along pretty well. What happened to him?
“3 weeks ago, maybe?”
You tilt your head. Why that question? And why…why is he so accurate?
“Yeah”, you mutter.
“How ironic.”
“What’s so funny about that, asshole”, you bite back.
His figure comes to a stand so close to you that you can feel his breath creeping across your face.
“It’s funny that he tried to save you and now you’re standing right in front of me, (y/n).”
His words pull the ground from beneath your feet, thoughts racing so violently that you feel like throwing up. What did he say about Satoru trying to save you? What is all of this about? You lose your cool completely.
“What the hell are you talking about?”, you yell into his stupid smirk.
“I gave him an ultimatum. But now that you’re here already…Let’s get this over with.”
You aren’t able to properly understand a single word as he hounds a curse your direction.
“Why are you even here?”
Where is Satoru? What is going on here? Where are your students? So many unknown variables, so much pressure. You need answers.
“I’m here to kill Yuta Okkotsu.”
Your heart sinks immediately. Yuta? Suguru is probably on the hunt for Rika. No, you can’t let him get away with this.
“Over. My. Corpse.”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
“Oh dear (y/n). I always liked your charm, but nothing better than that.”
It’s hard to keep up with him without any weapon. Where is your dagger when you need it? You only have your powers and your combat skills to attack him. But Suguru isn’t dumb. It’s almost frightening, the way he keeps distance between both of you.
Your baby. Fuck, you need to be careful. After all, stress isn’t beneficial for your pregnancy.
And dying too.
-Satoru’s POV-
He runs as fast as his feet carry him, vision clouded by thick fear. He did all of this for you, to keep you out of grip for Suguru. And now you’re facing him alone, his students not able to help you. What about the baby? He needs to hurry. If Suguru harms one single hair on your head…
“Get away from her. Now”, he barks at his former best friend, positioning himself in front of you just in time before one of Suguru’s curses hits you.
“Ironic, isn’t it? That you even scarified your relationship only for her to run into my open arms.”
“I never thought you would go this far. She’s not only a jujutsu sorcerer, but my girlfriend. I thought you are better than that. Keep your hands off her or you’ll regret it.”
All you can do is stare at his broad back with tears glistening in your eyes. Is this why he broke up with you three weeks ago and left you alone pregnant? To keep you out of sight from Geto?
“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something.”
These three weeks of torture, of asking yourself over and over why you weren’t good enough and where you went wrong…because he was worried?
“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”, you cry out, slamming your fists against his back over and over.
“Why did you just leave me like that? Why did you not leave me any choice? Why would you leave me standing in the rain pregnant? Why did you do this to me-“
“(y/n)”, he interrupts you, glossy eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.
Satoru grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him.
“Because I couldn’t stand you getting hurt”, he breathes out.
“Because I knew you wouldn’t watch out for yourself. Because I knew this was the only way to keep you safe, even though it meant breaking both of his into pieces. Trust me, I hated myself every single day over the last three weeks, wondering every miserable second how you’re doing. It made me lose my mind, (y/n). And now you’re here, right here where you shouldn’t be.”
“I’ve got hurt the second you broke up with me just after I’ve told you that I’m expecting your child!”, you scream into his face.
All the pain, the grief, the longing, the waiting. Everything crushes down at you and swallow you whole. All of this was in vain.
“I never stopped loving you, (y/n). On the contrary, my love for you is greater than my longing after you.”
For the first time since you’ve met him, you can see him cry. Tears roll down his face uncontrollably, the ocean blue of his eyes disrupted by rough red.
“I don’t mean to interrupt your little moment here, but now that you’re already here, I can kill you, right?”
As if in slow motion Satoru turns around to his former best friends, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood spills.
“I will make you pay for every tear (y/n) spilled, for these weeks of torture. You will regret your threat for every single fucking day.”
“Let’s get it on, then”, Geto remarks dryly.
...
Hope you're doing fine. If you're still able to, feel free to tell me whenever you want a part ll of this and with you. Thank youu <3
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familyvideostevie · 7 months
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come care about me
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joel miller x reader a quiet evening at your house in Jackson with the man you call home | implied but unspecified age gap, domesticity, jackson au, joel is a flirt and a gossip [2.2k] a/n: my first attempt at joel! hope it's alright. read part 2 here! part 3 here! series masterlist here.
Jackson is quiet at this hour. The whole world is pretty quiet these days and sometimes it's more suffocating than peaceful. The white noise of life is so different -- you remember how car horns and humming power lines and the thrum of planes overhead used to remind you that you weren't alone. Now, most of the time, you're hoping you're alone. The snap of a twig or click of a safety or a muffled cough are signs of danger. But this town is safe. You know it, you feel it, but sometimes it catches up to you: how tiring it is to be on guard all the time. This is just how it is.
You hear little but your own footsteps as you head for home, hands tucked into your pockets and book wedged under your arm. The warmth of an evening spent at the town book club is still in your veins -- well, that and the finger of whiskey -- and it chases away your melancholy musings for the moment. Even better is the promise of what awaits you.
The porch light is on when you round the corner. You half expect Joel to be strumming away in his chair but there's no sign of him. Not unusual, not really, given that there's a chill in the air and Ellie was meant to come over for a movie night. Maybe she's still here and they're inside watching some shitty action flick on the couch. One or both of them always doze off before it's over. Regardless, you know he won't head to bed until you're home.
You ease open the door. The hallway smells like Ellie's favorite tea and slightly burnt bread but there's no splash of light from the TV, no clash of swords or quiet laughter.
It's dark in the house but that's not unusual either. "Took a few years to stop flicking light switches," Joel once told you. "Reckon it'll take a few more to get used to it again." He's the kind of man who would rather sit in the dark than chance disappointment.
"Joel?" you call. Your jacket goes on the hook next to his and you sit on the bench you dragged in last month for unlacing your boots, which will go next to his spare pair. He's undoubedlty still got his on, wherever he is. The tell-tale trail of belongings that often indicate the presence of a teenager is absent.
Your name echoes down the staircase followed by heavy, slightly uneven footsteps. Joel emerges into the hallway, guitar in hand. His hair is mussed like he's just thrown on the sweater he now wears and his expression softens at the sight of you, an ever-so-slight ease of his jaw and upturn of his mouth. It took you a while to learn how to spot it.
There are nights when you'll make a joke, tease him a little to try to get him to laugh. It's easier than it used to be but he likes to make you work for it. But tonight you're just glad to be home and you want to tell him so. He leans the guitar against the wall and beats you to it.
"Was gonna wait for you on the porch," he says. "Bit early to be back already." He's right. The after-discussion drinks will be going for at least another hour, thought the sun has been down for ages. You just shrug, fingers a little clumsy from the whiskey and the cold as you undo your laces.
"Wanted to come home," you say. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he crosses his arms, shoulder pressing into the wall above the guitar. Joel rarely takes, rarely reaches for what's in front of him even if he wants it, even if it's already his. It's a patience, a self discipline painfully constructed from years of survival and two rounds as a father mixed with the deep guilt he'll never allow himself to be rid of.
Point is, he'll wait for you to touch him. But that's okay. You've worked on your patience, too, and you've been doing this dance for a few years now. His arms will be open once you finish getting your damn shoes off.
"Ellie still here?" you ask. Joel's words are heavy with his drawl, heavier since being around Tommy, if Ellie is to be believed, his sentences clipped of unnecessary words and syllables. It seems that you've adopted some of his speech pattern. He'll never admit it but you think he likes it.
"You just missed her."
"I think she'd like this." You nudge the book on the bench beside you with your thigh. "I'll drop it by tomorrow. Movie night go good?"
Joel dips his chin, eyes on the floor. He shows you so much but there are some things he can't. The scabbing over wound between him and Ellie is often one of those things. "Was nice," he allows. "She n'Dina will be at dinner this weekend, she said."
You finally get your boots off and sigh, tossing them into the corner. The thud is loud enough to make you wince. "About time those girls graced us with their presence." You reach your arms above your head and stretch, joins popping and muscles sore from the sheer exertion of existing after the end of the world. Joel watches you.
"Alright," he says. He pushes off the wall with a groan. "C'mere."
It's the easiest thing in the world to walk into his embrace, socked feet soundless on the hardwood. You love Ellie like she's your own but her absence means that Joel will touch you more. He's a private man, reserved around people he knows and downright stony around those he doesn't even though the years in Jackson have softened him a great deal. He'll squeeze your hand, your shoulder, hover his palm on the small of your back as he moves around you, but that's it. He worries constantly that you'll wise up and realize he's too old, too boring, too mean, that people in town whisper the same behind your backs. Funny how in a time where you fight against fungus-powered flesh eaters, gossip still makes its rounds.
Still, you feel Joel's eyes on you in every room and you'd rather he worry about things like that than life and death beyond the walls. It's like your cells know he's near, a compass needle magnetized to the set of his shoulders and smell of wood glue and gunpowder. The rasp of his voice and his rough hands and the lines on his face. In the privacy of your home he's all yours.
"Hello," you say into his sweater. It's a new find, different from the threadbare button-ups and flannels he wears into the ground. His beard scratches against your skin and you sink into him, arms around his waist. He cradles the back of your head in one warm palm and holds you steady with the other on your back.
"Howdy," he mutters because he knows it'll make you laugh. It does. You match your inhales to his and any remaining tension from the day leaks out of both of you. "Do y'wanna to sit on the porch or go to bed? You hungry?"
His knuckles trace your spine as you shake your head. "Astrid had Seth make sandwiches. So, bed. Too cold to be on the porch."
"S'not that cold," he retorts. You roll your eyes and pull away from his embrace to look at him. His hair could do with a trim, the silver strands falling into his eyes. Your own hair has greys here and there by now, a byproduct of the times. Nearly everyone born Before has some. It's damn stressful to be alive. Joel often grumbles that you're too young for that kind of shit, not far enough from twenty for such visible signs of age.
"I've got gossip for you." That gets his eyebrows to raise.
"Do you now?" He releases you and grabs the guitar, gesturing for you to head upstairs first. "Should'a led with that."
Joel Miller is a lot of things, some of them better than others, but one of your favorites is that he's become a gossip. Maybe he was Before, too. Small-town life and safety and a teenager of his own and you have turned his eye back towards the business of other folks. Information gatherin', he calls it. Important to know what's going on.
But really he's just nosy. Good thing you are, too. It's basically the only reason you go to book club. If you actually wanted to talk about books you'd do it with the teenager living out back -- and you do -- since she's a bigger reader and miles smarter than anyone else in town.
The stairs creak like they always do. Joel has put away the laundry that you finished this morning and despite his inclination towards darkness, has left on the lamp in the bedroom. He sets the guitar back in its stand and sits in the armchair to unlace his boots, grunting a bit as he goes.
"Jesse's mother brought a new batch of whiskey for after the discussion. Caused some loose lips, I think. I hope she did it on purpose because it was worth it."
You eye the book on Joel's side of the bed. Something about...woodworking? Typical.
"Whiskey, huh?" he drawls from behind you. "Could smell it on your breath," he says. You look up and he startles you a bit by appearing in your space and tilting your chin up with two fingers. Joel presses his lips to yours firmly, tongue dipping into your exhale for just a moment before he pulls back. "Can taste it, too."
He's gone before you can lean into him. You sit down heavily on the bed. Whiskey aside, Joel's touch, his kiss, his attention always make you feel a little overwhelmed. And he knows it. You hadn't even heard him creep over to you.
"Asshole," you mutter.
"Say somethin'?" He's wandered to the closet to shuck off his jeans and sweater.
"Remember Scott?" you ask instead. "Short, got that scar across his face."
"I might be old but my memory is fine," he grumbles. "Patrolled with him last month."
"Well, he's been with Duy, that guy who works the gardens, for almost half a year, right? But according to Wendy, as of yesterday, Scott's not living in the house on Spring Street anymore. She saw him moving into a split level on Crescent."
Joel whistles through his teeth. You watch him slide into flannel pants, catch flashes of his tanned skin and your palms ache to touch him.
"You think it has to do with...what was his name? The other guy Scott's with sometimes? Phil? Peter?"
"Patrick. Yeah, that's what I thought too. Something must've been happening there." You tuck one leg under you on the bed. "What was that about a fine memory?"
He ignores you. "Never did like him much," he says. "He talks a lot." He reappears from the closet in his pants that belonged to some other man long dead, his chest bare despite the cool evening. He's a furnace, this man. You barely need layers to sleep in as the seasons change so long as he's next to you, all solid warmth and muscle. He tosses you the shirt you like to sleep in. It smells like what passes for detergent these days.
"You don't like anyone much," you tease as you unfurl your leg. It's not true, not really. Joel likes a few people a great deal and tolerates everyone else just fine. He's respected not only for being Maria's brother-in-law but for the way he can fix things, for his calm head on patrol. Children in town adore him and Ellie's friends used to revere him like a god, or so she tells you. You didn't know him before Jackson but you know enough about what happened twenty years ago, four years ago, and everything in between. You know that it made him hard but hollow. You know that that dear girl in the back shed brought him back to life and now that they're on the mend, you can see even more pieces of who he was.
You know that you've helped, too.
"I like you plenty," he says. He stands between your knees and frames your face with his hands. The callused pad of his thumb drags over your lower lip as you just stare at each other for a few moments. You press your palm to his stomach, nails sliding through the thatch of hair that leads down under the band of his pants. His abdomen contracts and his nostrils flare.
You give him a grin. "I like you plenty, too, Joel Miller." There isn't much more to it. He's probably your favorite person on this god-forsaken planet.
"Get outta these damn clothes," he grumbles around a small smile of his own. He tugs at the shirt in your hand.
You wiggle your eyebrows at him. "Oh, so we can f--"
Joel steps back and heads for the bathroom, leaving you behind with a dramatic sigh. "So we can go to sleep."
Laughter spills out of you as you head for the closet. "Whatever you say."
"You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"
The end of the world isn't so bad.
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here
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yawnderu · 4 months
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Bimbo!reader giving simon a home spa day, like making sure simon looks ABSOLUTELY glamorous everywhere!
bimbo!reader loves having spa days with Simon 😭 she bought a few products for his dry skin, always wanting to help him relax after he comes back home :3
“I said sit down.” You push him back down on the bathtub, forcing him to stay in the water despite the way his fingers are looking like raisins, wrinkling up after almost 30 minutes of being in the water.
“'M gonna melt, angel.” His protest goes ignored much to his amusement, brown eyes fully focused on the way you're working on applying some sort of mask on his hair, despite the way he has a buzz cut.
“You'll live.” You finally reply with a teasing smile, massaging the deep treatment hair mask onto short hair, your long nails softly running along his scalp. He allows himself to fully relax, taking in the smell of the lavender bath bubbles you put in the water, bathroom lights dim to give him the full spa experience.
You carefully wash the treatment off his hair after a few minutes of waiting for it to set in, helping him out of the bathtub and wrapping a towel over his naked torso, a new one going to dry his hair.
Being taken care of and spoiled is something completely new to Simon— the last time was when he was a baby, his mum bathing him and trying to give him a nice experience despite his father's protests about her spending money on what he thought was bullshit, He closes his eyes, placing all his trust on you to take care of him without feeling burdened.
“Now we're gonna do skincare, I got some new products for you that I'm dying to use.” You coo at him, excitedly holding his hand and guiding him back to your bed, helping him lay down on the freshly changed satin sheets.
He watches with amusement as you come back with a pink basket overflowing with skincare products that you bought specifically for him. You sit in bed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss before you start rummaging through the basket, trying to find a product to begin with now that his face is clean from the bath. He's never seen you this focused, the tip of your tongue poking out of your glossy lips. His hand goes to your side on instinct, rubbing up and down soothingly.
“Alright, so we're starting with a mud mask.” You put on your best YouTuber voice, making a small smile to set on his lips at the act. Your hands work carefully, the pads of your fingers gliding along his dry skin, spreading the grey mask all over his face, making sure to avoid applying it on his thin eyebrows and lips.
“Close your eyes.” Not only was he staring into your soul— you also have other plans for his eyes. You go to the skincare fridge in your closet, pulling out a small container with cold, cut slices of cucumber that you prepared the night before.
“Are you gonna kill me?” He asks jokingly, mirth in his tone despite the way he actually closes his eyes, fully trusting you.
“Not yet.” Your playful tone makes him smile, fully aware that it's all a joke. You put the cold slices of cucumber over his eyes, giggling at the way his face scrunches up at the feeling.
“Fuckin' hell.” It feels way too weird— completely new to him. You let the face mask set for a few minutes before cleaning it off with a wet cloth, removing the cucumber slices from over his eyes. The dark bags under his eyes becoming slightly less prominent. You lean down to capture his lips in a kiss that he immediately returns, his hand going up to your waist and running up and down gently, always looking forward to feeling your body.
“Alright, now we're gonna apply some cream.” You spoil me too much, he thinks. A small smile makes way to his lips, happy that he found someone who loves to dote on him this much without ever complaining about it. You're having fun taking care of him, making a little spa out of your shared flat.
Your soft hands massage the product all over his much softer skin, making you realize just how much better his skin has gotten ever since you started doing his skincare months ago. You tap the pads of your fingers on his skin as you get done, making sure the cream gets into his pores well.
“Do this.” You pucker your lips, grinning down at him when he does it back with no hesitation. You apply a small amount of strawberry lip balm all over his thin, chapped lips, proud at seeing the way they become softer.
Who cares if Johnny teases him about becoming a ''pretty boy''? He doesn't have a girlfriend who spoils him, while Simon does. Yeah, shut up, Johnny.
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xiayannie · 4 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 23𝐑𝐃 — 𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘤𝘰𝘢
↳ scaramouche & xiao (separate) × gn! reader
content: fluff, crack ? | 𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭
small christmas scenarios with the two
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↟ 𝙎𝘾𝘼𝙍𝘼𝙈𝙊𝙐𝘾𝙃𝙀
hates the idea, but goes along with your shenanigans because it's "christmas" and it makes you happy
he secretly enjoys it
"can't believe I'm wearing this hideous thing." SCARAMOUCHE scowled, staring down at the ugly sweater in disdain.
you merely rolled your eyes, dragging him by the arm to the kitchen. a cup was thrusted into his face, which he took skeptically.
"what? you've never had hot cocoa?"
"I've never been a fan of anything sweet." he retorted, staring at the assortment of sweet add-ons from the so-called 'hot cocoa bar'.
a small realization flashed on your face before you went to rustle in the cabinets, pulling out a newer container.
"I got some dark cocoa the other day, maybe you'll like this better." you hummed, handing him the instant cocoa powder.
SCARAMOUCHE hesitated a bit, but he scooped some of the powder into his cup of hot milk before stirring. your expectant eyes made him feel a bit pressured as he took a sip, expecting the worst.
to his dismay, it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
"...it's okay." SCARAMOUCHE murmured out quietly, watching as you beamed at him.
"that's good!"
"how about we go put on a movie?"
SCARAMOUCHE throughout the movie kept refilling his cup of hot cocoa, which you noticed, but didn't say anything about until the both of you got drowsy on the couch after the movie.
"...how many cups of cocoa did you have, scara?"
to which he would remain silent for a bit, his cheeks flushing the slightest bit of red as he avoided replying, trying to come up with any excuse he could.
"I was a bit thirsty."
"yeah, sure. and you must be a bit cold." you snickered at him, eyeing up his decked out christmas attire; reindeer socks, plaid pants, and ugly cat sweater.
needless to say, SCARAMOUCHE was not going to live it down. especially since he got caught humming along to mariah carey's "all I want for christmas" despite talking shit about christmas music earlier.
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↟ 𝙓𝙄𝘼𝙊
doesn't get the whole point of making gingerbread houses (to not really eat them) but he tries it for the sake of seeing you smile
doesn't like Christmas much, but he enjoys spending time with you
the two of you spent the afternoon making gingerbread houses, and the difference between the two were as clear as day and night.
XIAO's gingerbread house was collapsing in as you stared and compared it to your averagely decent looking one. his face was calm as he continued to frost his roof, but the weight of the sweet frosting was contributing more to the downfall of his house.
"xiao..." you tried to stifle a laugh, aware of how seriously he took the activity, as well as how hard he worked on it. "...good job, my love."
"thank you." XIAO replied, putting down the icing bag to dust off his fingers. his expression was stoic as usual, but his eyebrows gave you the impression that he was proud of his work.
you put a gumdrop up to his mouth, to which he obediently opened his mouth and ate. XIAO's face scrunched up a bit, but he swallowed it silently. you pulled him in for a sweet hug, melting into his side as you laughed.
"...these sweets aren't to my liking." he murmured, staring at the abomination of sugar before him.
"well, good thing we won't be eating them." XIAO's brow furrowed in confusion at what you said.
"what's the point of making it, then?"
"they're just for decoration usually."
XIAO was dumbfounded, but he nodded and decided to brush it off, instead focusing on helping you clean up.
the night ended off with cuddling, sweet whispers and quiet giggles exchanged between the two of you.
"did you enjoy building gingerbread houses together, xiao?"
he nodded, bringing his hand up to lightly stroke your cheek.
"I do not get the whole point of making them, only to use them as decoration, but...I'd enjoy anything as long as I'm doing it with you."
slap!
you giggled like a school girl, lightly hitting him on the shoulder. "such a smooth talker, who taught you to say such sweet and cheesy lines?"
"... it doesn't even compare to that gumdrop you fed me earlier." he scoffed, but a small smile graced his lips as he stared at you.
"but I'd eat as many gumdrops that you'd feed me if that means I get to see you beam at me in return."
XIAO didn't care for christmas. but he now does, because it means that he gets to spend more time with you, no matter how dumb or stupid he thinks the activity is.
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luveline · 10 months
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so first I would just like to say I love your writing and if it's alright I have a request Sirius x reader who comes off as confident and flirty but the moment Sirius does anything about it they just shut down and their face goes red
thanks for reading and your request!! ♡ late 90s AU,
cw reader can physically blush ! 
"See you later, handsome," you say cheerfully, hand on the doorway, head poking into the living room. 
Sirius looks up from his hand of cards, knowing you're talking to him, and glares. "Where do you think you're going?" 
"I have work in the morning, I have to go sleep. I know you'll miss me, Siri, but these things come to pass." 
James snorts a laugh and Remus reaches out to steady his drink seconds before Sirius knocks the table standing up. Dark hair falling into his eyes, Sirius climbs over his friends' knees and meets you at the door. "Come on, I'll walk you to your car," he says. 
Your pulse jumps in response to his sudden closeness, but thankfully you retain your cool. Together, you walk out of Lily's flat, down the metal steps, footsteps grinding rust and popping puddles. You'd hoped he'd speak first, but Sirius seems content to walk in the quiet with you. 
"Did you like the CD?" you ask. 
"I did. Hey, the girls… well, Marl said you had to do that on a computer, and it must've taken you ages." 
You burned him a playlist of love songs, some subtle, most less so. It was a joke, sure, but a joke that took hours and hours of time and a lorry load of patience. You'd drawn hearts all over the slip cover, and wrote his name in perfect font on the CD itself. 
"It didn't take that long. I'm great with technology," you brag. 
Sirius smiles at you. "I know you are, dove." 
Your foot slips off of the pavement. Strong hands are quick to save you, curling around your arms bruisingly tight and pulling you back up again on proper footing. "Careful," he murmurs, sounding tender. 
You feel your heart again, the contiguities you share burning hot and the space between you impossibly small. You look up into his face, Sirius looking down, the perfect curve of his bottom lip like a siren call that pulls you in, yanks you near enough, your brain begging you to ask him even as you begin to melt. 
Sirius frowns. "What, did you hurt yourself?" 
"I– no," you explain, a mumbled stammer you know you will never, ever live down. 
Sirius turns smug slowly. You watch it happen in horror, the inching of his eyebrows, the way his chin tilts ever so slightly upward. He looks down his nose at you, his hands relaxing where they'd been melding the soft fat of your upper arms, fingertips meandering down the length of your arm to your cold hand. 
"You aren't embarrassed, are you? You only tripped."
You shake your head uselessly, unable to speak. There's flirtation, and then there's this, the reality that Sirius could kiss you, that you want him to, and that he might want it more. 
"You're blushing," he says. 
"Am I?" you ask morosely. 
He raises a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat of your flushed skin in his palm with the practised ease of someone who's pictured doing it a hundred times before. 
"And you're awfully quiet." 
A breath shudders out of you without permission, eyebrows lightly creased. You're waiting to see what he'll do. 
"Relax," he says finally, the intense cadence of his voice replaced by a sweeter concern, "it's alright. I didn't mean to make you so nervous, dove. I was teasing, but… I think I might've gone too far."
You shake your head. His hand slides down to your neck. 
"No? Good. Let's get you back to your car in one piece, yeah? It's a good thing I came, really, or the next time I thought about kissing you I might have to picture you with two missing front teeth." 
Your laugh comes out choked. Sirius sighs fondly, nudging you in the direction of your car. 
"Come on. I won't tell anyone you're a fraud, by the way." His hand settles at the small of your back. "Your secret is safe with me." 
You'd say thanks if you had the wherewithal, but his constant touching distracts any sense. 
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