#maybe from injury in the past hm

[skunkes]

#dpoes anyone else want to take a shower with him or is it just m #wtf who said that!! #a doodley #nudity #also ok he for sure has like. a ribcage flare... #maybe from injury in the past hm

[mariespen]

Everyone Knows It - ♥∞˚.

protective!Rafe Cameron x fem!Reader ˚. Summary: Rafe will always defend you. Warnings: descriptions of physical injury, vulgar name-calling, arguing, themes of anxiety based on this ask!

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“How long does this shit take?” Your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, asked as you began to apply your favorite mascara. You looked at him, rolling your eyes playfully as he tried to stifle his own smile.

“I dunno, Rafe.” You replied with a shrug, giggling as his eyes rolled into his head out of annoyance.

“C’mon baby, we gotta go.” He said, borderline pouting from across the bathroom.

You turned away, finishing your makeup and adjusting your outfit, looking at him with a teasing smile as you walked back over. You tilted your head up, meeting him with a soft kiss as he pulled you closer.

“Not too long, hm?” You said, watching him scoff.

“Oh yeah, only two hours.” He said with a smile of his own.

Rafe dragged you to the car as you looked at him with hesitance. He had been so set on going to a huge party on figure 8 and he eventually convinced you to come with him. Initially, you were equally as excited, if not more. You’ve always loved parties, but this week had been especially stressful on the both of you, so it took some pleading from Rafe to get you up.

However, your mood quickly turned when you were talking with your best friend, Jessica, and she hesitantly told you that all three of Rafe’s ex-girlfriends would be stalking around the party. 

Of course you knew that Rafe loved you and only you. He had been dating you for two years now, far longer than all three of them combined. But, you also knew that none of them had gotten over him and all of them hated your guts.

At least to him, Rafe was blissfully unaware of your concern because you didn’t want to bring it up. Maybe it wasn’t as huge of a deal as you were making it, maybe you were overthinking the whole thing. Rafe didn’t need to know about your predicament, it shouldn’t even matter.

That’s what you told yourself, at least, as you picked your fingers anxiously while Rafe drove, his clueless hand on your thigh. The drive seemed a lot shorter than normal and Rafe was just starting to pick up on your nerves as the two of you pulled into the beach parking lot.

“Hey..” He started, putting the car in park and watching your eyes as you looked at the sunset.

“Hm?” You acknowledge him briefly, hiding the shake in your voice.

“Are you like.. okay?” He asked, sucking in a breath while trying to read your eyes and taking another look at you before continuing, “You just seem a little off, y’know?” Rafe knew how to read you like a book, but he had a strong tendency to second-guess himself. You could thank his father for that gift.

“Yeah, m’okay.” You muttered out, not wanting to concern him now, out of all times. Rafe kissed you softly on the cheek before getting out of the car. You tried to work up the courage before Rafe opened your door, offering his hand to you. A small ‘thank you’ came from your shaky lips and he nodded in recognition.

His hands were stuffed in his pockets when he checked behind him, seeing you practically hiding in his dark shadow. You felt too aware of everything, feeling imaginary eyes on your body. One of the few things you didn’t notice was his ex, Emma, watching the two of you with a hawk’s eye. “Baby-“ He tried to start before you saw Jessica and suddenly your nerves began to ease up.

“Jessie!” You called out, speed walking past Rafe to meet her as the two of you gushed out girly greetings.

Rafe smiled and rolled his eyes, keeping himself close to you while also lingering next to Topper and Kelce.

At some point, the last thing you were worried about was Rafe’s two-faced ex-girlfriends. The drinks were letting you ease up and Rafe trusted Jessica just enough to let you go off on your own, just a few feet into the dense crowd.

Everything was perfect, especially when your favorite song for the past month started playing. A smile spread across your face when you went to find Rafe in the crowd, a small dance in your step as you giggled to yourself.

That same smile faded as you saw one of his exes brushing up on him. You stood deathly still, astonished that he was letting this happen so openly. It was obvious that he wasn’t paying her any mind and even making an effort to step away a few times, but the fact that she was near him made your skin crawl. All confidence that you once had slowly disappeared when you looked to the right ever so slightly and made dead eye contact with his other two exes. The worst part? They had started to stalk closer to Rafe, inch by inch.

You nearly screamed out of jealousy before Jessica noticed the same thing and turned you around. You knew it was a weak attempt to distract you, but it inevitably worked as Jessica held your hand instead, spinning you on beat.

Things faded out again until one spin got a little too personal and you stopped yourself, dizzily looking over at Rafe. The girls were nowhere to be seen, which brightened your face. You started over to Rafe again, wanting to lean into him and to let him show you off like he always did. You were his girl, everyone knew that.

It wasn’t anything but a few steps in his direction before you felt a hand sweep you the other way, followed by two more. Confusion drained the happiness from your smile as you looked around, everything going too quick to fully make out any faces connected to the hands pulling you back and forth.

You tried to protest but found yourself silenced when they stopped and held you still.

“You’re a fucking whore.” Emma spat.

Emma, his first long-term ex. ‘Six months in hell’ Rafe would always say, rolling his eyes and kissing you to remember how victorious his escape was.

The two other girls, Natalee and Avery held you upright, nodding along with whatever Emma said. You rolled your eyes at their ‘yes-man’ mannerisms, which gained you a scoff from Emma.

“You stole Rafe from me. You fucking slut!” She yelled, getting closer and closer.

“Didn’t steal anyone..” You mumbled, making every reasonable attempt to back away but ultimately failing.

She scoffed. In fact, you heard all three of them scoff. You knew that they were jealous, and honestly, you would be too. Rafe broke their hearts and told them he ‘wasn’t ready for a relationship’ before skipping off to the next. All three of them assumed you to be another one of his heartbreak victims, but when you stuck for a little too long, the hatred naturally got stronger within the three.

You were lost in thought, trying to squirm away before you felt a faint sting on your cheek. You looked over at Emma and caught her just as her hand moved away from your face. 

Instantly, tears poured from your eyes as you felt utterly helpless at their fists. One punch landed before another and suddenly you were being jostled around with no thoughts besides the pain coursing through your face and stomach.

Your ears were ringing by the time Rafe ran over and tore you away from their hands. You didn’t hear him yelling or pulling you away. It barely registered in your head when he picked you up and carried you from their jealous screams with a worried look on his face.

The car door slammed shut and you regained a little bit of yourself, feeling hazy in the passenger’s seat. You heard the driver’s side door open and close, watching Rafe struggling with the ignition through your slightly blurred vision.

You felt his panic hit you like a wave throughout the entire car ride, feeling him try and keep your head upright. His voice cracked and his hands shook while he fought through to keep his confident facade. 

The two of you made it to Tannyhill and Rafe had barely put the car in park before he was rushing to your side. As much as he tried to seem careless and tough, you and him both knew that he couldn’t stifle his sensitivity around you.

His emotions crashed down on him while he tried to keep himself together, carrying your weakening body into the cushy living room.

“Talk to me, princess.” He whispered, laying you on the couch and pulling up your dress to look at the bruise quickly forming on your ribs.

You didn’t say anything but a groan of pain. Not because you couldn’t, but more because you didn’t have any words. Shock overtook your originally tearful face and realization set in. For the rest of the night, Rafe held you in his arms. He didn’t let you lift a finger and made sure you were okay before calling a few ‘friends,’ as he said, to take care of the three girls.

It truthfully didn’t matter to you what happened to them. Here he was, Rafe Cameron, with his face buried in your hair and leaving soft kisses as gentle reminders that he loved you more than anyone else.

You were his girl, everyone knew that.

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#mariespen #outer banks #rafe cameron #obx fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #protective!rafe #protective rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe drabble #rafe cameron blurb

[thewritetofreespeech]

BG3 - Taking care of sick Reader

prompt: I'm sick. so I wrote this up to help me feel better.

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

‘Your head throbs in tandem with your own heartbeat. Pain coursing through your body with every stifled breath you take, as your tight chest struggles to fill with air. It had been a long time since you were sick. You nearly forgot how uncomfortable it was. Without the tadpoles protective qualities shield you anymore, this new wave hit you like a stone wall. You almost wished to have it squirming mass back in your brain just to be over this. Luckily, you were not alone at least.’

Astarion

“There there darling, allow me.” He handed you a small cup of water. Letting you sip from it for a bit before he put it back, and you fall back against the bed. “You still look awful.”

You glare at him; or at much as you could with this pain behind your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t mean it that way. I just mean…you must still be feeling bad and that is unfortunately for you.”

He sat on the edge of your bed, just looking at you. You can see a bit of concern on his handsome face. You wonder if he’s worried about you or what to do. “I’ve never had to take care of anyone who was sick before. I don’t know what to do.” So, it was the former. “Vampires can’t get sick. So I’ve spent the last few centuries in perfect health, minus a few injuries here & there.” He told you. “Should I…get you a new blanket? Prop your head up? Make soup? I’ve never actually made soup before either, but I’m sure I could be up to the challenge.”

You reach out and take his hand in yours. The cool feel of his skin a welcome reprieve against your warm, clammy one. - Just stay with me.

Astarion smiled. “I can do that.” He curled around to lay in the bed beside you. With no fear of sickness, he had no reason to stay away from you until this past. Your body letting out a sigh as his coolness enveloped you. Feeling some of your heat sap out, even over the covers. “You know, maybe I have a knack for this healing thing.” You let him think that, and curl into Astarion’s body to rest and try to regain your strength back. Sleep is easier this time. Hopefully you’ll be better soon enough.

Ascended!Astarion

Coughing and sputtering, you try to sit up as to not choke on your own spittle. An undignified end for a hero. To vanquish so many enemies and an Elder Brain, only to die by asphyxiating on their own sick.

“Still not feeling well, my treasure?” You look up to see Astarion standing in the doorway. His face neutral as ever, but with just the slightest hint of disdain only you can pick up on at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’s the smell. Or perhaps because now you are so weak. “I bet you wish you had taken me up on my offer now, hm? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you had just listened to me.”

You watch him as he sauntered over to the side of your bed. Annoyed by his comments. You knew deep down Astarion was still hurt that you turned him down on becoming his spawn. He said such cruel things to you in the moment. Even with all that power, still the boy who lashed out at other. But even with everything he said, he’d never left you. Or more to the point you hadn’t left him, as this was his palace, but he hadn’t pushed you out. Comments and jabs here & there said out of latent anger, but always some excuse quickly on why you couldn’t leave just yet.

“Nothing can be done about it now though. I wouldn’t dream of biting you in this state. Agh…” You felt the shutter was uncalled for. You felt bad enough psychically already. Did you really need to be degraded too? “In any case, I’ve had the servants go and fetch you somethings to aid in your recovery. I wouldn’t know the first thing about mortal illnesses after all but they seem to know the trick.”

– Say nothing to him

Bending down at the waist, Astarion pressed his lips to your forehead. The cool touch soothing to your feverous brow. “Ugh. Salty. I’ll be much happier when you’re back to normal, pet. Anyway, must dash. If you need or want anything, please let the servants know. I’ve instructed them to tend to your every need, and expect no slip ups. I look forward to having a new conversation when you’re…better, my treasure.”

You knew, even as he left, what the conversation was going to be about. Another offer to turn you again. You had only turned him down before because you thought you’d have more time to decide. It was literally a life-changing decision. But, laying here, sick and weak as a kitten, you were beginning to wonder if the change might not be a welcome one, as you fall back asleep.

Gale

“Alright love. Here we are.”

You open your eyes and sit up. A little as a tray was sat across your lap. Bread, fruit slices, a bowl of something steaming, and…a flower, all adorn the tray in front of you, and you arch a brow at Gale. “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to feed you any strange potions or what not. Despite all my magic and study, there seems no cure for the common cold. No, no, this is just good old kitchen ‘magic’. A Dekarios family recipe past down for generations.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. You trust Gale though and take your first bite. It is delicious.

“I’m glad you like it.” Gale told you with a smile. “I must admit, I feel a bit conceded in this moment in being able to help you. I wish I could say it was pure altruism, or concern for your health, but it’s not.”

- What do you mean?

“Well, I’ve never had someone to take care of before.” He told you. “Mystra never needed anything of me but my loyalty. And…my body from time to time. You need me for things though. Not as often as I would like sometimes. Your independence is a marvel still. But for now, I get to help you. Help you on the road to recovery. I hope it is a speedy one but I have to say,” he reached out and took your hand in his own, “I don’t mind taking care of you.”

You suppose his underlying message was sweet, and you weakly squeeze his hand back.

“I’ll leave you to eat and rest then. Should you need anything, anything at all, just ring this bell and I’ll come to help.” A bright, crystal bell appeared in Gale’s hand, which he presented to you before putting it on your tray. “Be well darling.” He gave you a quick kiss before he saw himself out. Checking on you regularly, with or without the bell, to make sure you didn’t need anything.

Wyll

“Still feeling under the weather then?” You look up to see Wyll entering the room. A bowl of something in his hand. “Come on. Sit up. You need to eat this.”

- Continue to lay down.

“Come on…don’t be like that.” Wyll moved to help you up with his free hand. As delicate and gentle as a badger as he hoisted you up. “Here. This will help you well better.”

You examine the bowl, but your mind is too clouded to make out anything other than the odd potato here and there. It smelled of spices though. Rich and full, as well as a red color to it. To humor Wyll, you take a bite.

- It’s spicy!

“Of course it is. That’s how you know it helps. Tri-pepper soup. My grandmother used to make it for me when I was sick as a boy.” You stop gulping the water by your bed and look at Wyll. “Since my mother was gone, she took care of me often when my father was away. The duties of his work, then Flaming Fist, and then again Grand Duke kept him away a lot. So, she stepped in to take care of me. Until she got older, I had to take care of her. ‘til the end.”

You lower your spoon and just watch Wyll. The loss etched on his face like his scars. For someone usually so good natured, you forget how much he had lost in his life.

“But! Her recipes live on. Now, eat your soup to help sweat out the sickness. And you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. I guarantee it.”

You feel a little manipulated into eating the spicy dish. How could you say no to such a fine, dead woman’s recipe? It takes a lot of will, but you eventually gulp it all down. Wyll seemed pleased. He then took your bowl and left you to rest. Your stomach churning with the spicy soup now bubbling in it. Unable to fall back asleep with the torrent raging in your gut.

Shadowheart

A cool towel pressed against your forehead like a soft caress. Gentle and serene.

“I wish there was more I could do for you.” Shadowhearts voice called out behind the dark of your eyes. “My magic is only for curing wounds and battle ailments. Sicknesses well…being a source of comfort was not something that was taught to me.”

You want to tell Shadowheart that she was doing a fine job. But your mouth was dry, and your tongue felt like it was made of iron it was so heavy in your mouth.

“I can’t recall a time I was sick like this in the past. But I do remember once I was poisoned. Part of my training. Warriors of Shar must be immune to all poisons, least we fail our mistress in such an unseemly way. Anyway, it was horrible. I would writhe in pain for hours while I waited for the poisons to pass. Nocturne would come in now & then, with Mother Superior was busy, and dab my head like this. It helped. I hope it helps you all the same.”

- Turn towards Shadowheart and tell her thank you.

“You don’t need to thank me.” Shadowheart replied with a sweet smile. “After everything you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”

Shadowheart took the cloth away and stood from the bed. “I’ll let you rest now. I can…find some herbs and salts to maybe help with the pain. Again, this is not my forte. Eliminating pain. But…I can try.”

She rushed out of the room. Set on her task as you continued to lay in bed. Slowly drifting off to sleep for now, now that your skin was not so hot and your mind a little clearer.

Lae'zel

“What are you still doing in bed?” You turn to look at Lae'zel in your doorway. Her frame stoic and strong as ever. “There is much to be done today. We must make hast.”

- I can’t Lae'zel. I’m sick.

“tas'ki! Absurd. You’re much stronger than some istik disease. Get up and get moving. Your body will not heal if you continue to wallow in this manner.”

You try to sit up as Lae'zel commanded, but your head swims the second you get upright. Lae'zel sucked on her teeth. “Nevermind. Clearly you are in no condition to be out of bed today. I am unaccustomed to this, as no true Githyanki would dream of falling ill and be a burden on their crèche. Perhaps rest is what is needed.”

Before you can tell her thank you, Lae'zel went over to the window and opened it. Letting the cool, fresh air in. “But you must leave this window open to purge the sickness out. Wallowing is one thing, but to marinate in such sick? Disgusting.” You glare at her a little. Not appreciating that she was implying that this was all your plan.

“I will leave you to your rest and check on your progress later. I trust your recovery will be swift.” Lae'zel stepped closer to the bed. Still far enough away, but closer than she was. “Get well soon. It pains me to see a warrior like you weakened this way. And someone I am fond of. It crushes my heart. I do not like it.”

Your face turns into one of surprise at Lae'zel’s back as she left the room. Closing the room behind her. You had not expected that from Lae'zel. To show open concern. The room was much colder now, but the crisp air was a welcome expanse in your lungs. You would need to get up to close them later, but perhaps that was Lae'zel’s plan all along.

Karlach

“Hey there soldier. Feeling any better?” You lull your head to the side to stare at Karlach. “Oof. That good eh? Sorry ‘bout that.”

She pulled up a chair by your bed and sat down. Face still in that almost perpetual smile of hers. Optimistic as ever, although a bit more tepid than usual. “But hey, you’ll be fine though. You’re tough! I’d check if you had a fever or something but…you know.” Karlach held up her hand. Still fiery and hot from her infernal engine, even if she was gifted to touch. “I wouldn’t be the best judge on who runs hot.”

The two of you sat there for a bit in quite. But quite was never long with Karlach. “So how do you think you got sick? Too long out in that swamp marsh? Going to sleep with wet hair again? Like, when I get stabbed, I know exactly where it came from. Do you know when you got bit by the sickness bug?”

- I don’t know Karlach. Please let me rest.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I tend to talk a lot when I’m nervous. Guess that doesn’t help. I’m just worried…you know…that this might not be something I can help you fight. Monster, demi-gods, ghouls, I can fight that all day! But this…you have to do it on your own. And I hate sitting by the side lines.”

Karlach stood. Leaning in to give you a brief, warm peck on your cheek. “I’ll let you get some sleep then. But let me know if you want some company. I’m really good at that part.”

The tiefling then left, and the room suddenly felt emptier without her presence. Like a void had just sucked up all the energy without Karlach in it. Still, you fell asleep. Trying to think of interesting dreams that you might share with Karlach when you wake up. You were sure she would enjoy that.

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 imagine #baldur's gate imagine #bg3 scenarios #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate scenarios #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #ascended astarion x reader #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #gale x reader #gale x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #lae'zel #lae'zel x reader #laz'el x tav #wyll #bg3 wyll

[daosies]

counting!

4 things yuta loves about you.

okkotsu yuta ♡ gn!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, smitten yuta, reader orders udon, injuries (blood, gore), reader has heavenly restriction

notes: YUTA NATION ... RISE ... !!!!

Okkotsu Yuta likes the way stars form in your eyes.

He likes the way your irises twinkle, the way you fumble over your words as you struggle to explain your thoughts when talking about something you like. Yuta likes the way you lean a little closer to him, the sound of your voice growing louder as you tell him about the greatest part of the show you’re watching.

Hm, is all Yuta thinks. Maybe I should watch that show too. 

“Yuta,” you say, “are you even listening?”

He blinks once, then twice, before offering you a kind nod and a fond smile.

“Of course.”

He swears he’s listening, but his gaze can’t help but trail over the flutter of your lashes and the bridge of your nose. Yuta swears he’s listening, but he finds himself fixated on the glimmer of your pupils, captivated by how you stare directly into his.

His breath hitches.

“I was never into volleyball before,” you continue on with your rant about a particular sports anime. “But wow, it really is a great sport!”

Yuta hums in response. “Really?”

Only when you direct your attention elsewhere does Yuta regain his ability to breathe. He heaves out a sigh, watching you greet the rest of the second years before glancing down at his forearms. 

A great sport? he wonders, tracing his finger over some of his faded scars. Would you find him great if he played volleyball? Would your eyes light up with constellations, with entire galaxies, when talking about him too? 

Subconsciously, his gaze finds its way back on you. Yuta thinks he is trained to see you, to perceive you. He thinks that, no matter where he is, his eyes will find you, and they will cherish you in the center of his pupils, the windows to his soul. 

Yuta thinks that you own these eyes of his, this soul of his. 

Toge sits down next to Yuta, and even though the bottom half of his face is covered, Yuta can tell that the boy is looking at him with a knowing expression.

“Tsuna mayo?” he asks. Yuta slumps in his seat. 

“Do you think I have a future in volleyball?”

“Okaka.” Toge deadpans. 

“Right,” Yuta affirms. “Guess not.”

Once more—as he was made to do—Yuta’s gaze finds your form. He observes how the sun pierces past the windows of the classroom, bathing you in a golden light. He observes how words spill quickly from your lips as Maki and Panda laugh at your jumbled syllables. He observes the way you shift your weight from one leg to the other, giddy with excitement.

Then, you smile. It reaches your eyes, crinkling them slightly, and Yuta feels his heart pounding against his chest. His ribs threaten to break from the sheer force, and he feels himself grinning in return.

“Sujiko.” Of course, nothing slips past Toge’s eyes, and the cursed-speech user merely stares at Yuta with incredulousness. 

“It’s nothing,” is all Yuta says. He hides his smile behind the palm of his hand, pretending to glance outside the window and observe the scenery.

As he was made to do, Yuta finds you in the reflection of the window. He always finds you, his eyes are naturally drawn to you, naturally made for you.

His smile grows wider, and his heart threatens to lurch from his chest completely.

Okkotsu Yuta likes the way your smiles reach your eyes.

He likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle a little, the way you glow. No matter how many times he’s seen it, Yuta’s stomach begins to flutter a little, the beat of his heart suddenly becoming too much to bear as it pounds against his ribs. Every time you smile, Yuta finds himself mirroring you; it’s contagious, really.

“What did the ocean say to the other ocean?” Panda asks. Nobody responds. “Nothing, it just waved!”

Nobody laughs. But Yuta notices the way your lips curl into the slightest of smiles, the way you glance away in order to hide it from Panda, who’s eagerly searching his classmates’ expressions for an ounce of mirth. Yuta notices the way your hand comes up to your face, awkward coughs escaping your lips in an attempt to mask your amusement. 

He sees your smile. He sees the way your eyes crinkle, the way your irises glimmer. Yuta sees all of you, and he thinks—knows—that he loves all of you. 

“Hah, Yuta found it funny!” Panda exclaims. At some point, Yuta began to smile too. He doesn’t know when it happened, but while he was observing the twinkle of your irises and the curl of your lips, he began to mimic your countenance, your demeanor. At some point, Yuta’s eyes began to glimmer like yours, his smile meeting his eyes as his dark irises crinkle a little.

At some point, Yuta began to act like you. He began to pick up your mannerisms, the habits of yours that he loves most. He integrated them into his being, placing parts of you delicately into his bones, his blood, his very essence. Somewhere along the line, Yuta became a part of you, a mirror of you.

“Right,” he says, letting Panda relish in the glory. Yuta’s gaze—as always—finds you, noticing the way you heave a sigh of relief, grateful that Panda didn’t catch you laughing at his lame joke.

Again, he smiles. It’s the kind of smile that meets his eyes, the kind of smile that makes his eyes shimmer. 

It’s the kind of smile that is vaguely, no, utterly reminiscent of yours. It’s the kind of smile that he loves, the kind of smile that he engraved onto both his memory and his face. 

Okkotsu Yuta likes your smiles so much, he made it a part of himself.

Tap, tap. 

Okkotsu Yuta likes your habit of tapping things whenever you’re nervous. 

Tap, tap. 

He thinks it’s endearing, the way you have subconscious ticks that nobody else seems to notice. But Yuta was made to perceive you, to observe you, so of course he notices. He notices how the pace speeds up whenever you’re especially anxious, how you sometimes tap your finger against your own leg when there’s no surface nearby.

Yuta wonders if you know how his heart matches that tempo you set, how he accompanies you like a violinist to a piano. He wonders if you know how he was made for you, how his heart beats to the flick of your hand.

Tap, tap. Thump-thump. 

“Are you nervous, Yuta?” you ask. The two of you sit side-by-side in the back of Ijichi’s car, heading towards another one of the higher-ups’ missions. This time, the two of you have to exorcise a special grade curse.

“No,” he lies.

You grin. “Right.”

Yuta wonders why old men are forcing high schoolers to do their bidding. He wonders why it has to be you, because Yuta is willing to fight anything any day if it means you’ll be safe. He’s willing to fight a thousand special grade curses all at once if that’s what it takes for you to look at him the way he looks at you, the way he was made to do.

“If you get hurt,” Yuta says, staring directly into your eyes. “You’ll tell me, right?”

Tap, tap. This time, your index finger comes to rap against his arm. 

“Yeah.” You look out the window. “And you’ll tell me, too.” 

He smiles. “Of course.”

Tap, tap. 

Because Yuta trusts you, he doesn’t force you to utter more reassurances. Because Yuta trusts you, he doesn’t egg you on when he sees your gaze becoming distant, looking past him even when you stare right into his eyes. Yuta doesn’t say anything, even though he knows that look in your eyes—the kind of self-sacrificing, heroic look that makes him want to fall in love with you and hate you all at the same time.

Love, because Yuta loves how justice-driven you are. Hate, because Yuta hates how you don’t prioritize yourself. He hates how you don’t see yourself the way he does.

The way he does, through those rose-colored, lovesick lenses of his.

Tap, tap. The next time you tap against a surface, it’s on the handle of his katana. He’s staring down at your battered form on the floor, his lips trembling as his mouth hangs slightly agape. Yuta doesn’t know what to make of himself, he doesn’t know where to put his hands and how to bring you to safety. He doesn’t know where to begin. 

Should he call Ijichi? Or should he carry you out of the area? Yuta managed to eliminate the special grade curse, but not without any repercussions. While fighting, he was clumsy and accidentally got hit, causing you to use a lot of your cursed energy on healing him when you should have been healing yourself.

I’m so stupid! he berates himself, his fingers quivering as he attempts to patch up the gash on your side. His heart aches and aches, weeping within the confines of his ribs as he tries his best to ignore the warmth of your blood on his skin, the way it soaks his entire hand even though there shouldn’t be that much, there shouldn’t be any blood at all.

Yuta doesn’t know why you would waste your technique on him, knowing that he has the ability to heal himself. At the same time, however, Yuta knows; he knows you healed him because his own healing is messy and unrefined, because your healing gives an additional curse energy boost. He knows you healed him because it’s in your nature, because that’s the kind of person you are.

“[Name],” Yuta says, his voice wavering as he struggles to face you. His eyes are fixated on your wounds, his palms applying pressure to them as he attempts to heal you with whatever semblance of a reverse curse technique he has. “Please… please tell me how to heal you.”

You have a unique form of Heavenly Restriction that allows you to heal others and yourself. This form of restriction stops others from healing you at all, and any attempt to apply some sort of reverse curse technique will only result in a nullification of cursed energy.

Yuta knows his question is stupid—how can he heal you if that’s in your restriction? Still, he asks. He begs you, urges you, to tell him how to heal you, to tell him how to take care of you, to help you, to save you. Because the blood staining his fingertips is becoming overwhelming, because he hates the sight of you on the floor, bleeding out, waiting. Waiting for Ijichi, waiting for death to take you in its tender embrace.

Yuta doesn’t want death to take you in any embrace, tender or not. And maybe he’s being dramatic, maybe everything will be okay, but to Yuta, it’s not. You being hurt is not okay, you bleeding out is never okay.

Tap, tap. 

“It’ll be okay, Yuta.” Even now, it’s you comforting him. It’s you reassuring him, with your gentle taps against his arm, your gaze tender yet determined as you cradle him in the center of your pupils. Yuta likes the way you look at him, the way you say his name, the way you exist with him.

Tap, tap. Again, your fingers lead his heart. Thump-thump. It’s yours. All yours.

He forces a smile. “Yeah.”

With you, Yuta thinks everything will be okay. He feigns ignorance to the way his hands feel warm—too warm—as his pale skin stains vibrant red. He feigns ignorance to the way your eyelids lower, the way your gaze becomes unfocused, the way your taps become softer.

Everything will be okay. You said so.

Tap, tap.

Okkotsu Yuta likes the way he can always predict what you’re going to say.

“Yuta,” you whisper, the end of your pencil coming to poke the boy’s shoulder. “What if we went to karaoke later?”

And a photobooth after, he thinks. “Today?”

“Yeah!” you exclaim, trying to keep your voice low. “And we could go to a photobooth after!”

He smiles. “That sounds good. What should we eat after?” he asks, yet he already knows the answer. Udon, he thinks, you like udon when it’s cold out. 

“Udon,” you respond, leaning closer towards him. Yuta’s breath hitches, his hands becoming clammy as his eyes trace over your features. From the bridge of your nose to the curl of your lips, your countenance makes a lover of him, his thoughts, his being belonging wholly to you. 

Again and again, Yuta falls in love with you. The flutter of your lashes and the excited tone of your voice (which slurs your syllables, which crinkles your eyes) makes him love you as if it were the first time. The taps of your fingers and the stars in your eyes reminds Yuta of everything that he’s ever hoped for, of everything that is worth the world, of everything that gives him purpose, reason.

When school is over, Yuta lets you drag him by the hand, relishing in the way your fingers fit perfectly around his. Yuta traces the pad of his thumb over your calluses, tenderly massaging them in an attempt to ease the stiffness. Yuta follows you, not caring to look behind him, not caring to ask where you’re taking him. 

(It’s not like he needs to, anyway. Yuta knows your favorite places, your favorite streets. He knows your favorite paths and your favorite restaurants. He knows where you’re taking him, but even if he didn’t, he’d let you string him along anyway.)

Yuta likes the sound of your singing voice, even if you hit all the wrong notes. Yuta likes the look of your face in the silly, absurd filters offered by the photobooth. He likes the way you squeeze his hand whenever you tug him to cross the road, the way you swing his arm a little when you walk down the street.

“May I take your order?” a waiter asks. 

Kishimen udon, Yuta thinks, his face resting against his palm as he stares at you from across the table. Kishimen udon with narutomaki. 

“Kishimen udon with narutomaki,” you reply. You don’t notice the way Yuta’s gaze is fixated on you, the way he hasn’t spared a single glance at the menu since the moment you two arrived. You don’t notice how Yuta’s pupils have your silhouette imprinted on them, the way your figure is etched into his very bones. 

(It’s a part of him now. Your image, your smile, your very being is tattooed into Yuta’s bones, carving him in order to become someone like you, to become someone for you.)

“And you, sir?” 

Yuta smiles tenderly. It crinkles his eyes and creates stars in his irises. “I’ll have the same thing, thank you.”

From the glimmer in your eyes to the taps of your fingers, Okkotsu Yuta loves you. All of you. 

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta #jjk x reader #jjk #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu #jjk okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta

[skipper1331]

A fling? // Felicitas Rauch

a/n: based off this request.

"Hello gorgeous" you said smiling. Your hand placed the loose strand of hair which had fallen in front of her face behind her ear as you memorized every feature of her face. She looked beautiful.

Feli blushed under your gaze, shyly looking away while she tried to control her breathing. "So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?" you asked with a cheesy grin covering your face. The defender rolled her eyes, playfully pushing you away yet her heart racing.

The moment you joined Wolfsburg, there was the massive attraction towards the brunette and you tried to ask her out with your famous pick up lines but she just brushed them off. You kept trying though.

"Stay." you told her sternly, grabbing her wrist as she was about to walk to her team mates, "I didn’t know what I wanted in a woman until I saw you."

Again with a roll of her eyes, she brushed you off like you were a nothing. Even If you didn‘t want to admit it, your heart stung. Every time, every ignorance of your presence, every brush off, you heart broke a bit more.

-

You let out a scream of pain as Laura Freigang tackled you, your body flying over the pitch before you landed in the grass. Your shoulder made a weird noice, knees scraping along the dirty pitch.

Feli was the first by your side, shoving Laura away who tried to apologize. Your face was hidden in the grass as you held your shoulder, tears streaming down your face.

"Can you sit up for me?" Felicitas asked, herself getting anxious because the medic took so long. With a grunt, you did as she wished, holding your shoulder with a death grip. For sure, it wasn‘t the thing you should do but it was out of reflex, you had to put pressure on the pain.

"My shoulder" you said through gritted teeth, "it cracked"

The brunettes face went pale, did you really just said cracked?!

When the medics arrived, the defender felt a kind of relief knowing you were in safe hands yet seeing your face scrunch in pain hurt her too. "She‘s going off, right?!" she asked, panic radiating in her voice. "What? No!" you interrupted her, "just tape it or something!" you told the medic, about to get up. "Stay the fuck down!" You had never heard the German curse or so scared. As she squatted down, you locked eyes, "you‘re crying, your shoulder hurts, you‘re getting subbed off. You will accept it, thank the medics and do as they told. Understood?" Your mouth fell agape, so bossy. Nodding in respond, you let the medic take you of the pitch as he talked about your injury and pain.

As you sat in the physio room, there was an ice pack on your shoulder to prevent further swelling and you were high on painkillers, babbling about something without someone in the room.

When the final whistle blew, Feli immediately left the field, searching for you. "How are you?" she asked as she saw your laying figure. Looking up to see the prettiest girl, you gave her a lopsided smile. "I’m coooool" you answered, the defender smiling lightly.

"Come here" you mumbled, "do you happen to have a Band-Aid? ‘Cause I scraped my knees falling for you." giggling at your pick up line, you didn‘t see the way her cheek caught fire and burnt red.

-

You were ruled out for a few weeks due your shoulder injury yet that didn‘t stop you from flirting with your favorite german player.

"I would never play hide and seek with you because someone like you is impossible to find."

"Hm" like usually, she rolled her eyes, walking past you.

Yet the soft smile that she sent you across the field later on, made your heart skip multiple beats. Maybe there was still a chance even if her answers grew short by every day that went by.

"Why don‘t you tell her that you like her?" Svenja asked the young woman who she had known for years.

"I don’t like her" she replied instantly.

"So how did you know who I was talking about?"

Caught in her own excuse, she smiles shyly before settling into a thoughtful expression, "she‘s- i don‘t know" Feli shrugged, eyes looking away from you as you walked in the facility.

"I don‘t think she wants the same thing I want"

"Why‘s that?" the blonde asked as they started to pass the ball, absently.

"You know the reputation she has, always flirting with everybody and sleeping around. I don‘t want to be a one night stand"

In the meantime while Svenja talked to Feli about you, Alexandra talked to you about Feli.

The Og-german players watched you dance around your feelings, Felicitas with her obvious ignorance and you with your flirty nature. They both knew there was something between the two of you, but not how both of you would realize it, so they made a plan - at least to get you on the right track and provide some clarity.

"So Feli, huh?" Alex asked, smirking. You blushed under her intense gaze, looking to the ground as you played with your fingers, "she‘s pretty amazing, yeah" you admitted, for the first time ever.

"So are you gonna ask her out?"

Looking up, you answered, "I did once but she just brushed me off, like always" you mumbled the last past yet still audible for Alex who had a pitty look on her face, "will you ask again?"

"Probably not. I flirt with her all the time only to be ignored in the end" you sighed, your fingers holding the bridge of your nose, "i don‘t get it. Sometimes she makes me think that she likes me too and then nothing"

"Can you blame her? You had quite the reputation before you came here"

You looked at Poppi with shook in your eyes and disgust on your face, "does she really think that? That she’s a fling?" you hated yourself for your behaviour in your past, you knew someday it will haunt you down - like it would now.

For the first time in years, you fell in love, actually in love, and the girl you liked thought bad of you, that you would use her.

"Did she reject me because of that?"

The older woman saw the hurt flash in your eyes - something she shouldn’t see.

"I don‘t know. I didn‘t even know that you asked her out. But i know you‘re not the person you used to be. You‘re a good person."

-

Felicitas noticed the change instantly, how you wouldn‘t flirt with her anymore, how you didn‘t greet her with a pick up line, how you barely talked to her. She didn‘t ask you about it, she just accepted it.

Svenja and Alex quickly realized that they worsened the relationship between the two of you rather than helping you to realize the feelings behind each others facades.

-

As you were able to play again, the champions league match against Arsenal was the perfect opportunity to show that you’re back better than ever. The first leg ended in a 2-2 draw yet it felt awesome to be back on the pitch again and when you scored Feli couldn‘t help the pride that washed over her body. She knew you waited long for the come back.

"Looking stunning as always" the blonde defender of Arsenal greeted you as she hugged you. Leah Williamson and you go way back, knowing each other since you were little and playing together in the national team. She was the sister you never had, the shoulder to cry on when ever you felt like it. "Not bad yourself" you joked, walking around together, arms around each others waist.

Feli hated the sight in front of her, the way you would smile at the skipper or laugh at something she said. She should be at your side instead of Leah.

"You good?" Svenja asked as she saw the growl on the brunettes face.

"Everything is perfectly fine" she answered, sarcasm laced in her voice as her eyes were still drained on your walking figure. "Back at her old habits, just great" she scowled, leaving the pitch without looking back. She didn‘t take pictures with fans nor signed anything, anger rushing through her veins.

"What‘s wrong with her?" Leah asked as she saw your favorite girl walking with quick steps away.

"Don‘t know. We‘re not talking at the moment" you muttered.

"What?! Why? I thought you liked her"

"I do. She just thinks I’m-"

"She thinks she‘s gonna be a fling, right?"

"Jup"

"You’re so stupid sometimes" she smacked the back of your head, "show her that she isn‘t"

"I tried!"

"Not hard enough apparently. 10£ she thinks you‘re flirting with me"

You looked at the skipper, confusion written over your face, what did she mean?

"Go" she pushed you away, towards the tunnel, giving you a reassuring nod, "seriously go!"

And you did. You ran after the brunette, calling her name. In the changing room, she sat in her cubby, head resting in her hands. "Felicitas" you said, voice low, you didn‘t want to startle her.

Feli loved the way her name rolled over your tongue. You had never called her Feli once, always Felicitas. You were the only one besides her parents who were allowed to do that. "So you‘re talking to me, wow" the defender grumbled, aggressively wiping away the few tears that left her eyes.

"Don‘t be mean"

"Mean?! You‘re the one who ignored me for weeks" she yelled as she stood up.

Matching her tone, "I know!" you sighed, "I know, okay?"

"You’re an idiot!" Felis anger was bubbling out of her, "you’re an idiot for making me fall for you!" she continued to ramble about your behavior how stupid you were for ignoring her, for making her feel worthless.

"I didn‘t talk to you because you thought you’re a fling to me! I didn‘t want you to think that"

"So you‘re flirting with Williamson? That’s low, even for you"

"Why the fuck are putting words in my mouth?" you were pacing around the changing room, Feli following every movement of yours, "you- bloody hell, Felicitas! Why are you making this so hard?"

"I‘m making this hard?! You‘re the one-"

"Stop it right now. I didn‘t flirt with Leah, gosh ew. We‘ve known each other since god knows when. And I didn‘t flirt with anyone besides you since I’m at Wolfsburg. Hell, you’re the only one I want to flirt with. You’re the only who I want to think that I’m a good person - not the person from my past. Felicitas, you‘re that one person to me!" You sat down, not meeting her eyes as you tried to control your emotions and your outburst.

The moment you arrived in Germany, you wanted to change. You transferred clubs to get a new chance, to prove everyone wrong. You didn‘t mean to fall in love with someone, you didn’t mean to flirt with her like in your old patterns but you couldn’t help it. With Feli everything felt different. Everything felt easy, you felt at peace. Wolfsburg felt like a new home. She felt like home.

"You‘re in love with me, too? It‘s not some weird-"

"Of course I am!" you interrupted her, making your statement clear. "How can I show you that I mean it? That I mean everything when I’m with you?" you asked with pleading eyes, eyes full of hope and regret.

"Take me out on a date" even after yelling, crying and running for more than 90 minutes, she looked absolutely breathtaking. It was a good thing that you were sitting otherwise you‘re knees would‘ve betrayed you.

"Deal"

In that moment, you promised yourself to treat her better than anyone could.

-

It didn‘t take Feli long to realize that you meant what you said that day in the locker room. The few little dates you had were more than perfect, you treated Felicitas like you promised and the way she deserved. Both of you seemed happier with each other and at Champions league final -1, you asked her to be your girlfriend.

Your heart fluttered every time you thought about the answer, "yes"

Maybe your past wasn‘t the greatest but the universe did give you another chance which you gladly accepted.

You showed the world that you deserved it.

You showed football fans all of your talent, getting nominated for the Ballon d‘or.

You showed your family and friends the vulnerable, caring and loving side of yourself.

And you showed Felicitas that she did the right thing with saying yes to be your girlfriend.

Felicitas was the one person that changed you for the better and you will thank and love her forever because of everything and more.

She was always more than just a fling.

————————

#felicitas rauch #feli rauch #felicitas rauch x reader #feli rauch x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #vfl wolfsburg frauen #vfl wolfsburg women #vfl wolfsburg #gerwnt #gerwnt x reader #leah williamson #svenja huth #alexandra popp #vfl wolfsburg frauen x reader #dfb frauen #dfb frauen x reader #felicitas rauch image #feli rauch image #frauen bundesliga 23/24 #frauen bundesliga

[vioartemis]

Act 5

(Amber Freeman x fem! reader)

Summary: After joining a discord server, you meet a girl... Warnings: (+18), smut, oral, fingering, blood, violence, injuries, characters are 18+ (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

As far as you could remember, you had always been a horror movie fan. Halloween, Friday the 13th, Saw, The exorcist, Stab... you enjoyed watching these movies. Recently, you had even joined a discord server for Stab fans.

It was really fun talking about these movies with people you knew liked them as much as you did, and it felt nice sharing your passion with others.

There were only two rules in this server: 1. If you were to make video calls, you would all wear Ghostface costumes and masks; and 2. Never, under any circumstances, say your name.

At first you thought that was weird, but it was a matter of safety. Stab fans were considered crazy after what happened in 2011 -and other side events.

Keeping your identity secret had become a must, if you didn't want other people online to hate on you and/or accuse you of crimes.

Fortunately, in the server, no one seemed to have a problem with the rules. And neither did you.

Until that day.

There was this girl on the server, with who you had been talking to in private for some months now. You may or may not had developed a little crush on her.

She was so nice, and it was so easy talking to her. You had the same opinion about almost everything too. But you didn't tell her. What if she thinks I'm weird? you thought.

You were currently on call with her, and the fact that you lived in Woodsboro just slipped.

"Wait- you live in Woodsboro? Me too! Maybe we know each other? What about we meet in real life?"

"I- We're not supposed to do that... Remember the rules? No personal information, so identity reveal or whatever..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But you trust me, right? 'Cause I know I can trust you"

"Of course I- I trust you but-"

"Well if we both trust each other, why not meet? It's better talking face to face, don't you think? Plus I'm dying to see what you look like. I'm sure you're super pretty"

You blushed at her words, and stuttered a quiet ‘okay’.

Two hours later, you were waiting in front of the high school, nervous. What if she didn’t like you irl? What if it was awkward? What if-

"Y/n?"

You turned around as you heard your name.

"Amber…?"

You couldn’t help but stare at her. She was gorgeous. The most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

"It’s so nice to finally meet you!" she started "And I was right; you’re really pretty"

You spent the whole day chatting and laughing together. There was definitely chemistry between you too.

"That’s my house" you said softly

You were a little sad your time with her was already over, you wanted make it last more.

"Oh, okay… We’ll meet again, right?"

"Yeah, of course! I’d love to!"

You smiled at each other, and waved goodbye, before you started making your way to the door. But you couldn’t just go like that.

"Amber I-" you started as you turned around

Before you could finish your sentence, her lips were in yours, soft against your own. It took you a second to register what was going on, but soon you were kissing back.

Amber pulled away after a moment. Her lips were inches away from yours, her eyes not leaving your own. Then she leans in for another kiss, more passionate.

Her hands were on your waist, keeping you close, as her tongue slipped past your lips. You made for a while, before running out of air.

When you pulled away, you could see that her lips were red and swollen, and so were yours.

"Maybe we should continue this inside, hm?" Amber said with a light smirk

You blushed and nodded, before trying to open the door. Your hands were shaking a bit in excitement, and Amber being flush against your back, arms around your waist and kissing your neck didn’t help.

Eventually you managed to open the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you both, you got pinned against it, Amber’s lips back on yours.

As the kiss grew more and more feverish, you felt her cold hands sneak under your shirt, and going up to your ribs, stopping right under your breasts.

"Is this okay?" she ask in between kisses

"Yes" you hummed in response

You could feel her smile against your lips as you let out a moan when she groped your tits through your bra. Then, her lips dipped to your neck as her hands made their way under your bra.

Before she could go any farther, you pushed her slightly away.

"Wait- let's go to my room"

You grabbed her hand and led her to your bedroom.

As soon as you were in the room, she reached down for your shirt and took it off you before unclasping your bra and pushing you on your bed. She straddled you, and started to undo her belt with a smirk.

She grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, before tying them to the headboard with her belt, making sure it's not too tight.

Then, she sat up and looked down at you, biting her lip.

"Look at you; so pretty all tied up under me..." she whispered, brushing your cheek softly

She leaned in to kiss you once more, her hands sliding down to unbutton your jeans, before going back up to play with your now hard nipples. Again, her lips dipped down to your neck, where she sucked angry red marks.

This, and your nipples being rolled between her fingers made a series of moans leave your throat. You wanted to run a hand through her hair, but with her belt around your wrists, you couldn't move at all -which turned you on even more.

Your eyes flutter closed when you felt her lips wrapping around one of your nipples, and her tongue running over it, before she started sucking gently.

Your back arched slightly as you moaned her name, encouraging her to continue.

After a moment, she released your nipple with a 'pop'. You looked down just in time to see a string of saliva linking her mouth and your hard bud.

She smirked and kissed her way down your body, taking off your pants slowly, her eyes never leaving yours. She took her time, kissing the inside of your thighs, slowly getting closer to where you needed her the most.

You whined at the tease and rolled your hips slightly.

"Amber... please..."

"Please what, baby?" she teased more, sly smirk spread on her face

"Please I need you so bad... please fuck me..."

"How can I say no if you ask so nicely?" she hummed, sliding your underwear down your legs and throwing it somewhere in the room

She looked down at your dripping cunt with a hungry gaze and licked her lips before diving in to get a taste of you.

She hummed against you, loving the way you tasted on her tongue. She hooked her arms around your thighs, keeping you in place while she ate you out.

Her tongue was driving you crazy, you were a moaning mess, and felt you wear already close to the edge. But all of a sudden, she stopped.

You let out a frustrated whine at the sudden loss of contact and pleasure, before she placed her index on your lips.

"Shhh... Don't worry, I'm not done with you"

She quickly replaced her index with her middle and ring finger, which she pushed into your mouth gently.

"Now be a good girl and get my fingers wet"

You complied, and once she was satisfied, pulled her fingers out of your mouth to slide them into your pussy, eliciting another moan from you, before starting to thrust in and out at a fast pace.

If you thought her tongue was skilled, her fingers were even more. She hit all the right spots and curled her fingers just right.

You were so overwhelmed with the pleasure that you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. But she didn't need you to say it to know you were close; she could feel you tighten around her fingers in the most pleasant way possible.

She stopped marking your soft skin and brought her other hand to your throat, squeezing slightly, while her thumb was circling your clit in rhythm with her thrusts.

"Cum all over my fingers, don't hold back"

You came hard, in a white blur, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed in.

Amber continued to fuck you through your high, watching you with a lustful look in her eyes. She had waited so long for that. She had dreamt of it so many times, and now you were truly hers, looking oh so pretty coming undone under her.

When she pulled away, you had recovered enough to see her shove her fingers in her mouth and lick them clean, before leaning in to kiss you lovingly and untying your hands.

"Ready for round 2?" she asked with a smirk

"Fuck yeah" you replied, already taking off her shirt

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

It had been almost a year since Amber and you were together, and only a few months since Stab 8 was released. Let's just say that you were thrilled to go to the movies together, and that you were terribly disappointed.

You both thought the movie was terrible.

"What are you doing?" you asked gently as you rolled over to your girlfriend, who was scribbling on a paper at the other end of her bed

"I was thinking... Maybe we could do our own Stab movie? Or at least do things to give the producers better ideas. What do you think?"

"What do you have in mind?"

She gave you a slight smirk as she turned to you and exposed her plan.

"So let me get this straight; you want to kill your friend to force her sister -the daughter of Billy Loomis- to come back here, and then kill everybody and blame it on her?"

"That's the idea" she replied, visibly excited "Are you in?"

You sighed and shook your head.

"What wouldn't I do for you, huh?" you smiled and cupped her cheeks to place a soft kiss on her lips "Are you sure we have to kill Tara though? She's my favorite out of all your friends... And if she dies her sister won't necessarily come back"

"You're right! So we just attack her then. Or I just attack her, I don't want to force you into hurting/killing people. I'll do the killing, and you'll make the calls if you want" she offered

"I don't want to let you do all the dirty stuff..."

"Don't worry about that, baby"

She smiled and kissed you again, this time pushing you into the mattress, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping a hand into your underwear with a smirk.

"I don't mind doing the dirty stuff"

Surprisingly, so far, everything went as planned; Amber attacked Tara, her sister cam back to Woodsboro, and the killing spree was continuing. The only thing that wasn't planned on was Sam's boyfriend, but he was just another pawn to kill.

"You ready babe?" Amber asked, adjusting her mask "I kill Judy and Wes, and then I'll go to the hospital to attack Tara and you"

"Don't forget to slash my arm -not too hard if possible!"

You helped her, and pressed your lips at the top of the black mouth of the Ghostface mask as a good luck kiss.

Once again, nothing went wrong. Until the moment where Amber was supposed to slash your arm.

When Tara saw Ghostface behind you, you turned around, just as planned, and lifted your arms up to 'protect' yourself. But instead of feeling the blade on your arm, you felt it sink in your stomach.

Your eyes widened, and you tried to kick her away, a hand on your wound to stop the bleeding.

Why did she do that? you thought, grabbing Tara's wheelchair to head to the elevator. That's not the plan!

Before you could reach it, you got thrown into the nearest wall, hitting your head hard against it.

The shock had the world spinning around you; you struggled to stand properly.

Ghostface took that opportunity to make Tara fall of her wheelchair and was ready to stab her when Sam and Dewey arrived.

You were waiting for Amber to come to the hospital after a nurse called her to warn her you had been hurt. You had so many questions.

When she finally arrived, she looked concerned, worried. She wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug.

"What happened?" she asked

"I don't know, you tell me. You were supposed to slash my arm, not stab me in the stomach...!" you whisper-shouted

"It wasn't me, Y/n..."

You blinked, and pulled away to look at her, confused.

"Fuck you mean it wasn't you...?"

"I couldn't make it to the hospital in time, my car broke down... I never would've hurt you baby..."

She hugged you tighter after saying this.

"If it wasn't you... there's another Ghostface in town..." you whispered

"That's a bad thing for our plan..."

"Not necessarily... If they get caught, we can get away with the previous killings. The police will think they did it too... And we'll be out of suspicions!"

"Yeah but what about our big finale...?"

"Well have to pass on that, I'm sorry my love... But think about it, we'll be the first Ghostface to have survived!"

"You're right baby, both of us living is better than having our ending"

She smile and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Who do you think it is?"

"Hm... It can't be Tara, that's for sure. I don't it's Sam either, or Chad"

"So that leaves Mindy and Liv..."

"And Sam's boyfriend, don't forget about him"

"You’re right, I don’t like him. He didn’t give me a good vibe"

You nod at her words.

"What do we do now? Do we still throw the party?"

"Yeah. If the other Ghostface is a Stab fan too, he’d never miss the occasion to recreate the og party in Stu Macher’s house"

Amber drove you to her house and you both got ready for the party. You had already stolen Tara's spare inhaler when you were in her room before being attacked, so you were sure she would come to Amber's.

And as expected, half an hour after the party begun, Sam, Richie and her came. Your girlfriend dismissed everyone else, and led Tara upstairs to look for her inhaler, leaving you with Sam and Richie.

Mindy was in the living-room, you heard her talk to Liv a few minutes ago, and Chad should be near too.

Sam received a phone call, and Richie walked towards the living-room. You decided to follow him, pretexting you had to rest.

"I'm gonna get some beer, anyone wanna come with me?" he asked after you sat next to Mindy

"No, but you were right to ask!" she replied, her eyes not leaving the tv screen

So he went to the basement alone while you stayed with Mindy watching Stab. When the scene of Randy being attacked arrived, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

While Mindy was busy screaming at Randy to turn around, you looked behind you, just in case.

Ghostface was behind Mindy, ready to stab her. You pulled her away from the knife right before she could get hurt badly, but her shoulder got slashed anyways.

You both screamed, hoping to get the others' attention while you tried to fight the killer. He managed to corner Mindy. You grabbed the lamp next to the sofa and slammed it on his head.

He didn't seem to like it, and punched you in the stomach, reopening your wound. You grunted in pain and pressed a hand on your bleeding stomach.

You were about to come at him again when Sam entered the room, scaring him away. You looked at each other and rush to Mindy, to make sure she was okay. She lost a lot of blood and passed out in Sam's arms.

A scream behind you made you jump. Amber and Tara just came downstairs. Sam opened her mouth to say something but got cut off by a sound of glass breaking; Richie was back, and just dropped his beers.

"Oh my god!" he said

"Where were you?" Sam asked him

"I was getting mor beer!"

"You went to the basement alone?" you girlfriend asked

"I asked them to come with me and they said no!" he replied, gesturing toward Mindy and you

"I was with Tara, and Y/n was with Mindy but the rest of you were wondering around. One of you is the fucking killer!" Amber spat

Liv suddenly barged into the room, looking panicked, hands covered in blood.

"Why is there blood on your hands?" Sam asked her

Liv looked down at her hands and seemed even more panicked.

"I- I found Chad..."

"Chad?"

"He's... he's..."

"You're the killer...!" Richie said

"No I-"

She looked at everyone in the room, seeking support, but neither of you knew if you could trust her.

"I'm not the fucking killer!" she finally yelled

"I know."

You all turned to Richie as he pulled out a gun and shot Liv in the head.

You felt someone grab your hand and drag you away as another gunshot resonated in the room. Amber pulled you upstairs, to her parents' room.

"Are you okay? God, you're bleeding again..."

She started looking for something to bandage you up with, but you stopped her.

"We don't have time, we need to kill him before he can do his speech about his motive, or he'll say that he didn't do the first killings..."

"But-"

"I'm okay, I promise" you reassured her "Let's just make it quick and I'll be fine"

She looked at you hesitantly for a second, before nodding and coming back next to you to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"What do we do now?" she asked

"Do you know where your dad hides his gun?"

Fortunately for the two of you, Sam stabbed Richie to death before he could say anything about another killer, after Amber shot him in the chest.

You made it to act 4, just like Jill Roberts 11 years ago. But you weren't going to screw everything up like she did, no.

And that's how you became the first Ghostface to get away with it, to make it to act 5.

#scream #scream 5 #amber freeman #amber freeman x fem reader #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman smut #amber freeman x reader smut

[nessgasm]

"Just a naïve one arent ya?"

=HOSHINA SOSHIRO

Ive had brainrot of this man for the whole days.. also some karasu brainrot.

18+ NSFW. EXPLICT.

MARKING/BITING, OVERSTIMULATION,P IN V, SLIGHT BONDAGE? BLOOD,INJURY! ,W/PLOT,RAW!,HAIR PULLING, FEM READER!,BOTH PRAISE?, DEGRADE?,RIDING

the vice captain of the third division of the defense force, hoshina soshiro.

Or hoshina fuku taichō.

You were just a normal officer, serving also for the defense force and also in the third division.

You've always admired the vice captain from afar, well he has only greeted you once.... maybe thrice? We dont know.

The kaiju alarm has rang, waking the others up and moving quickly getting ready.

All of you moved fast to reach the vehicle in time. Others are now inside the vehicle, to reach where the kaiju is now attacking. You, also inside the vehicle and took a deep breath and exhale it, You look around inside the vehicle and it stops into the destination on where the kaiju is close, but not close enough to injure all of you inside the vehicle. All of you went outside the vehicle, readying you're guns

Pew pew.

There he was, wearing his armour, and also his double swords noticable,his closed eyes and the mask covering his mouth.

You grip ur gun tighter as the ground rumbles a little bit, due to the kaiju being hella big...

You prepare too shoot incoming kaijus, reloading freezing rounds to slow some of them up.

It was untill one attacked you from behind. As it attacked you, you managed to shoot it off and run away, hiding in a building gripping your bleeding shoulder.

Shit, those kaijus we're fast as fuck.

Your eyes slowly close due too the exhaustion from the blood lost.

But, you suddenly randomly woke up in a bed blah blah blah..

"Oh? Yer' awake! Didnt notice that." hoshina says with his signature smile and closed eyes of course...

Wait did you say hoshina?

ITS HOSHINA.

He sits on the chair beside you as you look at him.

"Uhm.." you say letting out a sound, well not entirely a sound but you dont know if its a word.

He flicks your forehead

"Ow.." you rub the place where he flicked you're forehead

"You're just a naïve one arent ya?" He says, looking at you while laughing " we found you bleeding inside of a random crumbled building, Ya coulda' been injured more!" He says while crossing his hands.

"Im.. sorry vice captain i had no where to go.." you say while sighing and also sweat dropping

"No, no its fine! You could repay me because i saved yer' life." He says while smirking at you.

"What.. kind of repayment..?" You say, swallowing the saliva thats been building up inside ur mouth.

"You'll see." He says while smiling, striking you with his signature smile.

NSFW AHEAD.

And thats how you ended up having your hands tied to ur back while riding your vice captain.. raw

"Yer' doing so well hm? Riding my cock like a fucking slut." He says, gripping your waist like hes holding on for dear life.

"Ah - ah- yes vice captain!" You say, tears welling up in you're eyes as the overstimulation consumes your body.

How many orgasms has it been? Two or three? Maybe even four.

You were slowly turning dizzy from the pleasure, no his pleasure That you were giving him.

He slowly makes his way into ur neck, feeling his warm breath.

He bites down a mark and it makes you arch your back and moan, he was still bouncing you up and down, like a fucking cocksleeve.

"I bet ya like this hm? Sugar?" He says, licking the mark, blood seeping from the mark.

"Y-yes Vice captai- AH!" you say, he moves ur body faster on his cock, there was a ring of white forming on it, due to the past orgasms.

Goddamn this man had a lot of stamina...

Well of course? What would you expect from the vice captain?

He pulls ur hair for a kiss, intertwining your tongues together, he was kissing you like a starved man.

While he was kissing you, his hands slowly made it into your clit, rubbing it in tight cirlces.

He breaks the kiss and opens his eyes. You saw his red eyes staring at yours.

"C-cant do it haaah..." you say feeling exhausted from bouncing on his cock.

"You can do it, just one more... one more.." he still kept rubbing circles on ur core, he was feeling you tightening on his shaft.

He felt good from all of this.

"C-coming!" You say.

"Come. Now." he says making you bounce more faster on him.

"Ngh- aahha!" You came, oh so deliciously on him,he soon followed after you.

You were both panting and huffing.

"Who said we were done yet?"

Hes so ooc for me.. AGGGHHHHH

#hoshina smut #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #soshiro hoshina #kn8 smut #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no. 8 smut #kn8 x reader #<miyakiwi> #hoshina soshiro smut #soshiro smut

[riniworld]

How about a yandere villain (that’s lowkey a little dumb) x reader sidekick (who always eats it up)

✨Y.E.S✨

I'm not a native english speaker so i search about "eats it up" meaning and from what i understand is like loving/enjoying something, is that right?

warnings// obsession,yandere themes,mentionof blood at the end,the part where you're young there wasn't any romantic feelings!!,not proofread

refrence//you.my precious.

gener//headcanon just 'couse.

a/n//i put a backstory for them because...yeah.

•you met when you was young,two lost children in the street.

•because you two living the same you start following him around like a lost puppy.

•he was annoyed at the start,but soom start to soften.

•you're younger than him So he make you his responsibility.

•he was stealing to bring you two food,most of the time he get caught but he such a good runner.

•now you're older and still together

•known as the "villains" of the city.

•you don't really care what people will call you,You owe him your life,he saved and took care of you.

•and he still do.

•you two were dreaming of a peaceful life when you were younger.

•but your boss,aka the villain,grew hatred toward who call themselves "heros".

•if they were heros,they would have known about you two and helped you to get somewhere to live at atleast.

•they're just a money dogs.

•he didn't force you into anything,He gave you the freedom to make decisions,and you stayed.

•that made him feel strange,for the first time someone really care about him.(not like you didn't in the past it's just different when you're adults)

•his feelings start to grew every year, month, week, hour, minute, second.

•oh god,where you always that beautiful?

•or when you patch his wounds,it take everything in him to not just kiss you right right here.

•Oh, someone hurt you? dead.

•someone said something bad about you? dead.(he knows don't ask how)

•he also has such a pure soul...yeah he kill but he still has SUCH A PURE SOUL.

*calls the hero*

"now listen to me hero I've"

beep

*stunned* "did they hang up on me just now?!"

"look darling i just figured out how to make the hero beg under me"

"hm?"

"I'm gonna steal thier dog"

"..."

•and you love that about him,of course if he was too dumb and put himself in danger you'll step in.

•otherwise it's fun to watch.

• he sometimes tries to flirt with you but end up ruining it all,or you flip it on him and he'll just be a tomato mess.

•but when he serious and extremely possessive he might be a bit..bit scary

•he was going to a dangerous mission/battle and you wanted to go along

•there was a cold,demanding gaze you see for the first time when he told you won't go.

•or when you disguised as a civilians for a "secret mission"(actually he just took you on a date-) and someone creepy start saying such things to you...no one has seen him again:D

•also he loves spoiling you,it's his way of making up for your deprived childhood.

•he don't want anything in return but to see your smile.

poor guy just wanted a house to live in together:(

BONUS

blood and dead bodies all over the place,your plan has success! you defeated six heroes atleast, and you two don't have that dangerous injuries too.

what a lucky day,you thought.

the villain pulled you by your wrist,taking you out your thoughts,and slide his hand on your waist to make you as close to him as possible.

he looks deep in your eyes,with this loving gaze.

"how about we dance,my precious?" he said in a husky voice. God,you're making him drunk.

before you can answer he start swaying you right and left softly.

maybe he'll go and live with you a peaceful life without the "villain" title.

I TRIED TO MAKE THIS HAS A BIT CRACK BUT I COULDN'T SORRY

istg i know this isn't what you want but that's how it turned out with me

have a nice day/night♡

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x y/n

[peakyltd]

New Endings - Part 6

A/N: I know it's been a while but I promise I haven't abandoned this story (although it might seem like that since I started on this chapter in december already). I want to thank every single one of you who have supported this serie and I hope you still will... because it's not done yet 👀 Little note: there are a few lines from an earlier chapter, these are marked like this. There's also a little flashback that has not been in any of the chapters, these lines are marked like this.

Warnings: Angst, abuse/domestic violence, threatening, mentions of a gun, swearing, injuries.

Word count: 3.7k

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

The cold morning rain hit harshly against her face without any mercy while the hard wind made it almost difficult to breath. The storm reflected the one of insecurity and doubt that was raging inside her.

It would only take a few more minutes until she’d reach the house that once held so much joy. She pressed her quickly gathered belongings closer to her soaked coat while thinking about what would happen the moment she would knock on the door.

None of her thoughts held anything positive.

As the house came in sight she noticed it was eerie quiet. Maybe he was still asleep, it was very early after all. She took a deep breath before passing trough the small gate and making her way to the door. Hesitation made her hand stop mid air, her knuckles inches away from touching the wooden door.

She felt the water drip down her face into the puddles that had formed on the tiles, slowly shaking her out of her thoughts. There was no way back, she had said her last goodbyes to Tommy and now had to face David.

Her knuckles hit the door a few times, awaiting the answer from the other side. A few seconds turned into a few minutes before she knocked again. Her trembling body waited for an answer once again, one that didn’t came.

Maybe he wasn’t home.

She decided to make her way to the back of the house until all of sudden she heard the door creak. The beating of her heart sped up as she watched the door open, standing eye to eye with the man who she feared.

“David-“

“Are you here to tell me that you succeeded already?” The confused look in his eyes quickly turned into an intimidating one as his eyes scanned her thoroughly.

“I-“

“Or did he kick you out? I mean what else did you expect to happen?” He spoke calmly but his words were laced with venom. He stepped aside, making room for her to enter. “Come in, before you get sick.”

He caught the insecure look in her eyes as she hesitated to set her feet inside, his demeanor softening in an instant. “Go get changed, you’re soaked.” His words sounded genuine but scared her more than any threat that had came her way. She walked past him into the house, the warmth of it welcoming her. She carefully put her belongings down on the table before taking off her coat. She watched David as he stood on the other side of the table.

“Well? How is Thomas Shelby?” He asked while crossed his arms. “I didn’t do it.” She answered the first questioned he had asked her at the door. He slowly shook his head as he approached her, his hand cupping her cheek. “What is it with you and all your bad decisions lately, hm?”

She swallowed harshly. “I don’t want to get involved.” David chuckled humorlessly. “It’s a bit late for that now, don’t you think?”

“Please I-“

His hand left her face, her eyes focusing on his, begging him to leave her alone. “Go upstairs and get rid of those wet clothes.” He ordered while taking a step back. “I’ll make you a bath.” Noticing her hesitation he spoke up once again. “Go on.” She nodded slowly before making her way upstairs.

A couple of documents were slammed on Tommy’s desk with a loud bang, his aunt’s hand still resting on top of them. He looked up at her, an unbothered look on his face as far as being unbothered went. “I gathered everything you need, don’t you dare telling me I was wrong.” Her brown eyes were laced with anger and annoyance, staring directly into her nephew’s eyes before taking her hand off the papers. He kept her gaze, a burning cigarette in his hand, not saying a single word. “I’ve told you from the beginning that it was a bad idea.” Harsh words were thrown his way. “Where do you think that she is now, hm? All of sudden going back to the man that was being terrible to her, who the bloody hell would do that?”

After keeping her gaze for a few more seconds, Tommy let his eyes move down to the papers before sliding them to the side of his desk. “It’s her decision. Turns out she’s not mine to love.” The uninterested tone of his voice sparked something within in Polly that caused the fire to lash out even more. “I said it before and I’ll say it again, she makes you blind! I’m not going to sit here and wait until this family is wiped from their existence.” She pulled one of the papers from the pile and slammed it down in front of him. “They’re after you, Thomas and she knew. She fucking knew!” The frustration in her voice made him wary. He took another look at the letters that were infused on the paper, the words connecting with the dots in his mind.

“Where did you get this?” He wondered while eagerly grabbing the other papers, his cigarette still firmly sat between his fingers. “I actually did something with the information you gathered. Something you should’ve done before letting her back into your life.” She sneered as she grabbed a picture from between the documents, putting it down in front of him and pointing at two particular men standing smiling next to a group of people. “Do you recognize them?”

He looked at the picture, immediately recognizing the man who had become a rather important topic in his life. “David Wright.” He looked up at his aunt. “How did you get this?” Her answer didn’t came, instead she pointed at the other man on the photograph. “Did she tell you about him?” She asked, her eyes boring into him. “No.”

“Of course not.” Polly clenched her jaw. “Luca Changretta.” She spat. “The italian maffia, Thomas.” He looked up at her, remembering something (Y/N) had told him and creating the missing link he was looking for since the first night they had spend time together.

How did you meet him?" Tommy asked while he leaned his arms on the chair. "At a party, in a club. Also in London." She took a sip of her wine. "A friend invited me. He was there with a group of his friends and he came to the rescue when some Italian was bothering me."

He should’ve known, her nervous behavior should’ve been a sign.

"We hit it off pretty well and it turned out the Italian was a friend of his who had a few too many drinks."

“They’re after you.” Polly warned again while she watched him read the remaining of the papers. “She’s in on it too, she’s the one that knows everything about you after all.” He shook his head. “It’s been years, Pol. She wouldn’t.” The words left his mouth before he could think and before realizing who was in front of him. “She would and I’m not going to wait until they hunt us down! You’re too blind. Once again you’re way too fucking blind!” The loud voice of his aunt boomed trough his office, repeating the words she had told him before.

“They’re after you and she went back to him once she had you wrapped around her finger, what more do I have to tell you?!”

A deep sigh left her mouth as she made her way down the stairs. The warm bath David drew for her and the dry clothes made her body feel more at ease after a stressful morning. When she entered the livingroom, she found David sitting at the table. The gun he gave her was right in front of him with six bullets neatly lined up next to each other.

“Must be better, right?” David mentioned, referring to her dry clothes while leaning back in his chair. She nodded as her eyes didn’t leave the gun. “It is.”

“You can sit down, sweetheart.” The pet name disgusted her but she obeyed him anyways. “Let’s adress the elephant in the room, shall we?” He started. “As you can see I made it a little easier for you.” He rested his finger on top of one of the bullets. “Since Thomas Shelby seems a little too hard to start off with, why don’t we start with someone else first?” He pushed the bullet her way, she noticed a name that was carefully carved into the ammunition. “John Shelby. Must be an easy target, not the smartest one and doesn’t think before he acts. Something you two seem to have in common.” He sighed as he pushed another bullet her way. “After you’re done with him, we have Polly. Way too nosy.”

The blood in her veins was racing trough her body, the thumping of her heart filled her ears while the panic was clawing onto every single piece of her body. She watched as David shoved the other bullets her way one by one, the names of Arthur, Ada and Finn neatly carved into them. “And last but certainly not least, Tommy Shelby himself. Must be much easier since you’ve had a bit of practice.” He coldly told her, adding a wink.

Tears filled her eyes at the disgusting words that fell off his lips. “No.” She shook her head while rapidly blinking away the tears that threatened to spill, this was not the time to look weak in front of him. “No, I refuse. I fucking refuse.” Her words came out harsh as her fear lashed out into anger. “You refuse? You have no fucking choice.” David’s loud voice boomed trough the room as he slammed his fist on the table, the sound of the bullets rattling against the wood. “You crossed a fucking line and you’re going to make up for it!” He pointed his finger in her direction. “Or do you want to tell Luca that it isn’t going to happen? That his whole fucking plan is going down the drain because one pathetic bitch is too scared to pull the trigger? Do you think he’ll be understanding and tell you that it’ll be alright?!” The sudden movement of him standing made his chair fall backwards with a loud bang.

“I don’t fucking care!” She shouted back at him. “I never wanted to be a part of this!” Her eyes widened when she saw him come closer. Her breath stocked in her throat, making it hard to breath. “Was that before or after your woke up his bed like the fucking whore you are?! You had no problem coming all the way to Small Heath to tell us where we could find him!”

“You fucking forced me to! You fucking framed me with all of your fake promises!” She stood up, trying not to let him intimidate her. “And I did not sleep with him!” She felt his hands grab her wrists tightly, pushing her hands above her head and pushing her until her harshly back hit the wall, a soft cry left her mouth. His face was only inches away from hers as she struggled to get out of his strong grip. “You’re going out there, finishing what we started! You know I’m within reach of your loved ones and unlike you, I’m not a fucking coward!”

His booming voice made her ears ring, the words getting to her loud and clear, knowing he wouldn’t throw empty threats her way. “Fuck you.” She hissed as she felt the grip on her wrist tighten even more. “It’s obvious you’ve surrounded yourself with that Shelby scum again, look at the way you’re talking to me.” He harshly grabbed her cheeks after releasing her wrists, feeling his fingers painfully dig into her skin. “You should remember that you don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

As soon as he released her, she spat in his face. A stinging pain in her left cheek was followed immediately after. “Fucking bitch!” As she tried to lash out at him, another hit struck her.

Tears pricked in her eyes as she carefully touched her cheek and eye, trying to sooth the pain somehow. David turned around to take the gun from the table, her eyes widened as he put the bullets back into it. Fear took over her and she turned away as quickly as possible to flee the room. The firm grip of his hand yanked her back by her arm and harshly pushed her back against the wall. The feeling of the cold metal resting against her forehead made her freeze. “I could also end it all right here, right now.” David calmly explained, his finger resting on the trigger. “It’s your choice.”

Her chest was heaving up and down, her breathing becoming heavier each second. “Please do. I’d rather be death than that I have to spend one more minute with you.” Her determined voice was soft but clear, a sudden confidence taking over. A life full of abuse and taking a toll on her.

“Is that what you want, yeah?” He pressed the gun deeper into her skin. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. “I fucking asked you something!” He shouted at her, making her body tremble. Rethinking her decision she spoke up one more time. “Yes.”

Without hesitation he pulled the trigger back. She heard a loud click followed by deafening silence.

The metal was still brutally pressed against her skin, providing a painful friction. It took a moment before she carefully opened her eyes, only to find David with a bullet between his fingers.

“Thomas Shelby saved you once again.” He spat as he put the gun down. “But this will be the last time.” He continued while putting the last bullet with Tommy’s name on it in the chamber. “Now get the fuck out.”

Tears ran down her cheeks as she felt her heart banging against her ribs, suddenly realizing what kind of fate she had accepted in just a few seconds. “Did you not hear me? Get the fuck out!” He pushed her out of the hall to the front door. “Let me get my coat, please.” She chocked out. “Shut the fuck up.” He opened the front door and pushed her out in the pouring rain, pressing the gun into her hands. “David-“

“You’d rather be death than spending one more minute with me, hm? Won’t let you have that.” He slammed the door shut behind her, leaving her numb on the front lawn with the gun as a burden she couldn’t get rid of.

She stared at the house in front of her, the one she always dreamt of, the one that was supposed to be the center of happiness. The promising words of David replaying in her mind.

“We can leave London when business is done, move to the town you grew up in.” He told her when gently stroking her hair. “Really?” She beamed at him, thinking of how, even after everything, she had been missing Birmingham. “But you love London.”

“I’d do it for you.” He smiled at her. The corners of her mouth curled into an even bigger smile before pressing a kiss against his cheek. “You know, I actually got you something.” David took a set of keys out of his pocket and handed it to her.

She gave him a confused look. “What’s is this?” She chuckled. “Remember you told me that house you always loved as a kid?” He asked her as he watched her nodding. “It’s ours.”

“What?” She gasped. “Are you serious? Why?” He smiled and nodded. “To promise that I’ll treat you better. We can use it for the weekends and once I got my business rolling here, we can move there. Would you like that?” She nodded eagerly, making him chuckle. “Thank you so much David, I don’t know what to say.” She smiled. He pressed a kiss against her lips. “You don’t have to say something, sweetheart. Just imagine our future, hm? Just the two of us, being happy. Maybe a little family a few years in.” He told her while kissing her again.

How her life had turned into the worst. She should have known the moment he used the house as a bait to make her stay. Promises to do better, only became lies to make things worse.

As she turned to leave, the front door opened again revealing David with her coat and a suitcase with other personal possesions. “Get that shit out of here.” He threw her coat on the lawn before opening the suitcase and emptying it all over. She watched her clothes and precious jewelry scatter all over the tiling and grass before the suitcase was tossed her way, hitting her in the process. “Remember that I’ll always find you.”

The door slammed shut as she got on her knees to retrieve her belongings and stuffed them into her suitcase. She picked up her coat and draped it over her arm as it was way too wet to provide her the warmth she needed.

She made her way down the street, with no idea where to go.

The evening had covered the sky with a blanket of darkness, giving the world a sign it was time for their well deserved rest. The same rest she finally could give her feet, after carrying her the whole day, as she sat down on the stairs in front of the entrance of a building. Her body shivered from the cold wind that was blowing against her wet clothes.

She was desperate to find a place to stay but there wasn’t. She had no money and the only one she could turn to was no option any longer. There was no way Tommy would let her come back after she told him that she was going back to David.

She couldn’t stay out either, it was cold and most of all dangerous to wander the streets at night to find any kind of shelter.

The only thing that came to mind was the Garrison, even if it was only to warm up, maybe she’d find someone who could help her out. She leant her back against the wall, steadying her suitcase between her feet, as she let the events of the day run trough her mind.

How did she let it get this far?

Bad decision after bad decision was made, the wrong people were trusted and it felt like a downfall, except for the fact that she was still falling deeper and deeper and there was no way to stop.

Maybe London was the biggest mistake, in retrospect Birmingham gave her everything she needed but she might’ve realised it way too late. She wanted more but it brought her less.

“Fucking lock.” John tried to turn the key but failed once again. Maybe it was the lack of light or the amount of alcohol he had that night but it seemed like it was much harder than usual. A cigarette hung loosely on his lip as he mumbled out some more curse words.

“Are you closing?” A familiar voice made him look up, finding the silhouette of a woman next to him. “Y/N? Is that you?” He watched her as she came closer, surprising him. “What are you doing ‘ere? You’re fuckin’ soaked.”

She sighed, feeling embarrassed to ask for help. “Well, I-“ She paused her sentence to think about her next words. John’s eyes fell on the suitcase she was carrying. “Oh, I’m sorry (Y/N).” She shrugged. “I got kicked out. Again.” She jokingly said. It was followed by a soft chuckle as she tried to lighten up the situation in someway.

“Doesn’t sound very funny to me.” He seriously said as he looked at her, his eyes falling on her swollen cheek, the light bruising of her eye and a few marks left on her skin. "Did that fuckin' bastard hit you again?" She shook her head. "No-" John interrupted her. "(Y/N), I can see it. I might be drunk but I'm not fuckin' blind. This is not from falling or bumping into something.”

"It's nothing, I promise." She smiled kindly at him while he shook his head. Silence followed as he kept his eyes on her. “I think I-I’ll go.” She mumbled, his gaze making her uncomfortable.

“Where are you going to stay?” He slurred out the last words of his sentence. “I don’t know. I hoped to warm up in the Garrison but I think I’m a bit too late.”

He sighed softly. “Yeah sorry, love. Was just closin’ up.” He tried the key once more, finally being able to lock the pub. “You know, I’d let you stay on Watery Lane but I have to talk to Tom and Pol about it”

“No it’s fine.” She smiled at him. “But where will you stay then?” He wondered again.

“I honestly don’t know.” She fumbled with her suitcase. “I have no space at home. Y’know with the kids and all but you’re welcome for breakfast.” He offered. “I appreciate it John, thank you.”

He let his gaze wander over her again. “For how long have you been out?” He wondered. “Since this morning.”

“This morning? Are you mad? You’ll get sick.” Worry laced in his words. “Look I can bring you to Watery Lane, yeah? I'll talk to Tom and Pol tomorrow.”

“No, no, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” She waved her hand dismissively as she declined his offer. “Then what? It’s too dangerous for you to stay out here in the dark.” John tried to convince her. “I’ll find something.” She watched John as he was fumbling with his suitjacket.

“ ‘ere.” He put the keys of his childhood home in her hands. “No, no, you really don’t have to. I’ll find something else. I don’t want to be a bother.” She tried to protest against his offer, the idea of running into Tommy making her anxious. He took her chin gently between his thumb and finger, immediately apologizing when she flinched at his touch. “Oh… sorry.” He trailed off for a second before speaking up again. “Listen, it’s fine. Wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you, eh? Now I’ll get you there safely, yeah? And then you thank me and wish me a goodnight because I can’t wait to go see me wife.” He winked at her before carefully letting go of her face, earning a small smile from her.

“Thank you, John.” She softly answered as she felt the pressure of the gun burning against her skin.

Taglist: @cyphah @kissforvoid @graciesbow @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee

@casa-boiardi @brummiereader @call-sign-shark @zablife @mommahwa1117

#New endings #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby blurb #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine

[heeheesang]

ₕᵢgₕ ₛcₕₒₒₗ cᵣᵤₛₕ! ₗₑₑ ₕₑₑ ₛₑᵤₙg.

nine -> problems. ( written + text )

“and that was out last topic for the day! you did such a great job learning today, pretty girl. i’m proud of you!” jay smiles sweetly at me as he helps me sort out my items in my bag. “thank you for teaching me, jay! i had a great time learning with you, see you next session?” he nods and packs his items too.

“are you going home alone?” jay asks as we walk out of the library together, he was close to my shoulder, almost zero space between us as we walk side by side. “ah no.. heeseung’s walking back with me. he always waits for me.” i said and moved a little further away to create some space between us.

“alright then, i’ll see you in class tomorrow! goodbye ynnie, get home safely.” jay waved at me and i waved back as i sat on the swing in school. weird that heeseung wasn’t here, he would usually wait here or he would at least place his bag here to let me know he was there. a few minutes went past and it was getting cold, not long later it started pouring and i was drenched in rainwater.

ring ring… ring ring…

heeseung? i picked up the call.

“heeseung?”

“ynnie, where are you?”

“i was at the swing then i moved to the cafeteria, where are you?”

“i was getting my motor bike, it started raining so we can’t walk home today, i’m sorry princess.”

“hey it’s fine.. i’ll come up to you right now, i’ll see you at the gates?”

“i’ll be right here princess.”

i hung up the phone as blush tinted my cheeks, i could never get tired of him calling me princess. something about him just calling me princess makes my heart flutter and have a ride or a themepark in my heart. once i saw heeseung from afar, his arms were wide open and i ran towards him, almost slipping at the end but he caught me and we both hugged each other tightly.

“careful there, princess. wouldn’t want you to miss your performance because of an injury.” heeseung giggled as he lifted me off the floor and hugged me even tighter, “we haven’t seen each other for a day yet you’re acting like we haven’t met in years.” i giggled and blushed as he placed a soft peck on my forehead, “still, you’ll love me either way. now c’mon, let’s get you home before hoon yells at me hm?”

as soon as he started his bike, he reminded me, “hold on tight princess,” taking my arms and wrapping his around his body, which i obviously complied to and hugged his back the whole ride home.

the ride home was very smoothing, with rain, with wind, with heeseung. i like heeseung, the way he acts towards me, they way he helps me with everything, the way he would do anything for me, the way he’s so caring, friendly, loving and kind. he was really the perfect guy, all in one package if you ask me.

“anddd we have arrived!” heeseung said, parking his bike and taking his helmet off, “are you asleep, princess?” i quickly closed my eyes, pretending to sleep as he giggled, “how cute.”

he was very cautious in moving so he wouldn’t ‘wake’ me up, he took off my helmet and carried me bridal style into the house. “we’re home, sunghoon!” heeseung yelled as i felt him sitting down, maybe on the couch?

“heeseung! where’s yn— aw she’s asleep?” “yeah.. and she’s soaking wet from the rain. i’ll put her in her room so she won’t wet the couch, i don’t wanna trouble you, hoon.”

not a minute later, i was picked up again and placed on a soft, fluffy, bouncy matress. a blanket was put over the lower half of my body as my hair was oushed off my face, “sleep well my little princess. i love you,”

masterlist | back | next

taglist! @haechansbbg @saranghaohoshi @rosas-in-the-garden @yourssincerely-mimi @dimplewonie @jwnghyuns

hhs’ notes! i’m sorry if it seems confusing😭 so we have jealous hee and emo yn entering the story👀, i promise it’ll all work out in the end!! as always, thankyou for reading and supporting this smau~ i love you all, here’s a rose! 🌷💘

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen texts #enhypen smau #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung smau #enha heeseung #heeseung texts #lee heesung x reader #heeheesang #lee heeseung smau #heeseung x reader #enha #en #enha smau #enha reactions #enha x reader #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha fluff

[jiyansthesis]

oooo can I request angst w keith? Maybe unrequited love ? Like reader and keith are childhood friends or sthm.

I ACTUALLY HATE WRITING ANGST. but it has to be done. i'm finishing writing a smut for him so 🙏I'LL TAKE THIS ONE. hint of klance?? really implied klance??. tbh i might make a second part if enough people want it

not proofread/really short because im ass at anything other than romance and smut

today was the day.

you straightened up from where you were sitting on your bed, holding a little letter in your hand. a letter you would give to keith if you were too scared to even say it straight to his face.

"i like you." it read. you slightly cringed at how it sounded like a middle schooler's confession letter.

but it was straightforward and got the point across. if it backfired, you could always make up some crazy backstory to the note, but you were sure it wasn't going to get to that point.

you were hoping it wouldn't.

you and keith have been basically tied together for as long as you could remember. you went through elementary school, middle school, and even the garrison academy, until he eventually dropped out.

somehow you had managed to follow him into space. a chance of fate, that one night you managed to follow lance and hunk and pidge.

now basically a medic, since you weren't meant to be a paladin and this was the best job you could fit into. and so far, you've been having the time of your life for the past few months.

of course, that didn't mean you were entirely relaxed all the time. it seemed way too often that one of the paladins have to come to you to fix up an injury they had received, either on a mission or even just practicing. keith was your most normal visitor, and you definitely weren't complaining. (but you were always worried for him.)

letting out a huge sigh, you stand up from your bed and make your way to the door, it sliding open once you were in close proximity. you began sweating as thoughts raced through your mind.

what if he genuinely doesn't like you like that?

what if this ruins what you guys have been building up for years?

what if this disgusts him and he never talks to you again?

what if he does something worse than him saying "no"?

you shook your head. you weren't too confident, but you also weren't going to dampen your mood. all you have to do is go up to him, hand him the note, and wait.

you were about to go search for keith, when it turns out you didn't have to move at all. he was making it down the hallway, and he perked up a little when he saw you standing there.

"hey, i have a question," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck when he had finished jogging towards you.

he noticed the envelope in your hands, but paid no mind to it as you gestured for him to come inside your room.

"so, what do you want to talk about?" you held off on confessing, opting to hear him out first since he did come looking for you, and you were curious. you placed the envelope on the drawer, right next to a picture of you and keith as kids that you had always kept on you.

he slumped onto your bed, letting out a big sigh as you could see he was struggling to find words for what he wanted to say.

"i don't know what to tell lance."

"tell lance?" you questioned. maybe he needed your advice to just talk to lance about something important.

"well. . ." he hesitated.

"you can tell me anything, keith," you made your way over to him and sat next to him.

"i don't know how to tell lance i like him."

you sure as fuck weren't expecting that.

your jaw dropped, and keith watched as you turned away from, not wanting him to see your glossy eyes.

"w-well." your voice cracked, you quickly covering it up with a cough. "sorry, allergies."

when you finally faced him again, you saw him looking at you questioningly. "you alright?"

"yeah, yeah." you rubbed your eyes as if they were itchy, playing into the 'allergies' cover-up. at least he won't ask why your eyes were red and teary.

(but you knew he was smarter than that.)

"hm, well." you tried not to think about it too hard, lest you start tearing up again. "just be bold and do it. you miss all the shots you don't take."

very ironic.

he grunted as he sat up. "as if i haven't been telling myself that for months.

months?

you've been pinning for a man who's liked someone else for months. all those years of childish infatuation down the drain. all the years of thinking about a future with him.

you wished you never met him.

quickly standing up so he wouldn't see the tears threatening to fall, you excused yourself.

"i have to use the bathroom. sorry keith, i'll see you later." right before you left, you turned your head at an angle so you could see him from the corner of your eyes.

"and remember, what could go wrong?" everything went wrong for you.

but you couldn't be mad at him. you were mad you didn't see the signs. it's not his fault he wasn't in love with you, and there was nothing you could do to change that. the most you could do out of love for him is hope that him and lance get together.

the door shut behind you, leaving a very confused keith on your bed.

he also made his way to the door, trying to build up confidence to ask lance out. his eyes trailed to the picture of you and him, and he smiled. he loved you like a sister, and couldn't imagine losing you, although you did seem a bit more distant after he. . .

he realized.

looking at the letter you left on the drawer, he saw that it was addressed to him.

he didn't bother opening it, because he already knew what was in it.

"fuck," he ran a hand through his hair. you were the last person he should've asked for advice. rushing, he went looking for you.

you on the other hand were in a random hallway, rubbing your wet face to make it look as presentable as possible before you went to the training deck to work out all your feelings. is it a healthy coping mechanism? probably not. but you didn't care.

how did you not see the way the two of them interacted? they were obviously a lot closer than with the other paladins. you were stupid.

never would you ever be blinded by hopeless love ever agai-

"something wrong?" you lifted your head to see shiro gazing at you worriedly.

part 2 with shiro!?!?!?

#I HATE THIS SO MUCH UGHHHHH #x reader #voltron mtl #keith voltron #voltron keith #voltron x reader #voltron #vld #vld fanfic #keith x reader #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #angst

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Intrigued With You

i ii iii iiii

Yandere! Pinocchio x Fem! Mechanic! Reader

Warnings: physical violence (towards reader & Howard), mentioned past stalking & threats, blood, very slight mental breakdown, mention of injuries (broken limps & burns & cuts), inaccurate portal of the game demo, when the full release comes out, this work may be completely different from the actual game. Please tell me if I missed any.

This blog contains/creates/interacts with dark content, so if you are uncomfortable with that, don’t interact.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the toxic and harmful behaviors/thoughts that take place in this piece of fiction. None of this should be romanticized or considered normal as it is extremely toxic and dangerous.

Dead dove don’t eat.

Minors/ageless blogs that are blank/barely have anything, dni or you will be blocked.

Over all story summary: Your uncle’s puppet takes a too much of an interest in you.

Wc: 1992k

---

There are flyers everywhere.

Being handed out, scattered across the street, plastered onto windows – just everywhere. From a butler model bowing to a woman in one, to The Parade Master grinning in another. Advertisements, protests, novels of forbidden love, nearly everything was concerning the puppets. And nearly everything was making you sick, bile rising as you try to pretend that this is okay.

Like the world wasn’t about to be set on fire, Krat getting the worse of it.

You look to your left, Howard walking by your side. Unlike you, he’s smiling sweetly at the view, waving, and taking the handouts. It makes you envious. When he notices your gaze, you swore there was a hint of pink on his cheeks. You almost feel bad, but there was a sense of irritation, too. You should have said ‘no’.

“Is there something on my face?” He finally turns his head, trying to suppress a grin. He fails, miserably so. “If so, please tell. I don’t want to distract you,” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair. You scoff.

“Nothing can distract me, not even you,” turning your head away, looking forward, you resist the urge to laugh. Because if you react nicely, in a way that he’ll like, then he’ll get false hope. False hope that even he knew was nonexistent, but to be delusional, even if for a minute, was better to live in the reality that does nothing but burns. You swallow down the anxiety and guilt. It’s getting harder to stay.

“Hm, our little (name) is all grown up – too important to laugh with us peasants,” he teases, reaching out to ruffle your hair. He stops when you lean your head away. “So cold!”

Rolling your eyes, you ignore him, coat starting to feel stuffy. You’re sweating more than you should. “How far is this place anyway?” You adjust your coat, undoing the buttons, letting the front flutter. It feels like heaven, letting the cool wind cool down your overheating body – maybe you’re coming down sick.

Howard doesn’t answer.

You ask again, twice, before looking to your left, finding that he’s not there – you quickly turn around, only to spot him looking intensely at a particular poster. “Oh, come on…,” you make way towards him, both embarrassed and annoyed. You call out again, this time only a few steps away from him. He finally notices you.

“Hey,” he doesn’t give you room to talk, “just how well-known are you?” You’re taken aback by how his expression hardens; eyebrows furrowed as he jabs a thumb towards the poster.

“I’m… not sure?” walking until you’re directly in front of the poster, all you do is let out a giggle – you knew it was going to happen someday. And it scares you. It seems that the city is going to burn, soon.

The poster was a protest against the puppets. And your uncle is mentioned in it.

--

You were being stared at in the café. Not by many, but a select few, eyes glued to you, and you try your best to ignore it. Howard does too, pretending that he was unaware of the hostile atmosphere. Like he wasn’t about to become a target just from talking to you.

“– and then, my mother sent her to her room. Really, all my sister had to do was tell her who she was seeing; mother wasn’t planning on telling my father, anyway.” He carries on with his story, and you nod your head along, taking sips from your drink here and there. His shoulders and jaw are tense.

“She’s just in her rebellious phase,” you lean back, taking a glance at the table across from you. Three men, one woman, all staring you down like prey. “But surely, she’ll become mature about it,” you stretch your arms over your head before leaning forward, perching your elbows on the table. Hands cupping your cheeks as you grin at him, nervous.

Just pretend.

Howard gets the message, faking a yawn. Too many eyes and ears to start anything. And besides, they’ll be the ones in trouble, if anything. Even if they manage to get in a hit or two on Howard and send you to the hospital. Chills run down your spine at the thought – grabbing the glass and chugging down the rest of your water, food half-finished. You want – need – to leave.

He goes to pay while you stand idly by the door, breath hitching once the group follows. They don’t do anything, yet, but wait in line, and when Howard’s done paying, you tug on his sleeve, basically dragging him out of the café. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t ask questions – just follows. They follow soon after, and you’re not sure if you’re about to cry or laugh. Maybe both.

This is another reason why you hate being involved with the puppets – the protesters that hunt people like you down, clawing at their necks, gorging out their eyes if they could. You understand, you do, but it doesn’t justify when they beat someone black and blue just because they work with the workshop, especially when they’re minding their business. Attacking when the time is right, and you’re trying to flee before they find the opportunity to land a hit, to throw a rock.

“Sheesh, to think they’d so something like this in broad daylight…”

“It’s worse at night. From what I’ve heard, anyway. Guess I’ll have to add chains to the outside of the door, bar the windows up now.”

For both the house and his personal workshop, you mentally added.

Just to be safe.

You take two turns, different street signs, different shops, and apartments – the group still follows. You look back, only for a second, only to be with the sight of them being closer than earlier. Before you turn your head back, you catch the gleam of something under the woman’s sleeve. Is it a knife?

“Keep your eyes forward and just walk. Pretend they aren’t there,” Howard grabs your wrist, keeps moving and the roles are reversed, he’s dragging you as your heart leaps out from your chest. It’s happened once before, but even then, they gave up when you took a different turn than usual. This group doesn’t care. “Keep calm.”

They’re still following you even after you circled around the block for the fourth time; that’s when passerby’s start to notice. Start to care.

Something hits the back of your head.

And then something bigger hits you, making you wince, biting your tongue to keep quiet. Any reaction would be victory to them, and any damage is also trophy worthy. Howard doesn’t notice. The people around don’t say anything, just look on in shock. Shock, disagreement, agreement, happy, horrified – different mindsets and yet, no-one does anything. No-one joins, no-one stops it.

Another rock hits you, this time the nape of your neck, and it’s sharper than the others. You think you feel blood running down. Maybe you’re imaging things.

“Hey!” one of the men finally speak up, and you shut your eyes, still letting Howard drag you like a ragdoll. You want to cry. “Hey! I’m speaking to you!” You can’t see his face, but you’re sure his face is red in anger. Teeth bared and ready to snap at something. Snap at you if he doesn’t decide to go further and bite you.

“Just ignore them.”

You swallow a sob – for once, you’d rather be surrounded by those dreadful puppets you hate so much. No. You’d rather be alone with that puppet in your uncle’s workshop. It can’t even open its eyes. It can’t harm you, unlike this angry mob that makes you bleed and fear for your safety.

You fear pain more than death.

“I don’t think they’re going to leave us alone.”

Howard doesn’t answer, doesn’t comment on how broken and shaky your voice is. He doesn’t do anything, aside from making sure you don’t end up in an isolated area – a dead end street or alleyway. You needed open areas, full of people who are neutral.

It’s when you’re hit by a fifth rock that you finally let out a sob. And it’s by the fifth rock when one of the men finally catch up, practically tearing into you as he takes you by the shoulder, dragging you towards him. You stumble, whining in pain as Howard pulls you back, grip on your wrist more painful than the stranger’s.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yells, shielding you behind him as the man stumbles back. You shut your eyes tight.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you – you’re with her! Don’t you realize she’s going to burn this city to the ground?” You can’t see their expressions, don’t want to, and you take a step back when Howard does. The man screams some more.

“These damn puppets – the protocols don’t work on some. It’s only a matter of time before they all glitch out and decide to kill us – “

“They won’t. They can’t – their systems will literally shut down if they break any.”

He’s not exactly wrong, but he’s not entirely right – some don’t shut down. So, you’re the one who scrapes them. You keep your mouth shut, trembling. It’s suddenly too cold. You want to hide.

“Right, right. Then tell me, will that always be the case? You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you? No, you’ve seen the results – some owners got injured by their own puppets. On purpose. Burns, cuts, broken limbs – it’s happening too often to be a coincidence.”

There’s some more yelling, and it’s only when someone reaches out from behind you, a person from outside their group, grabbing your hair that some finally interjects. You can’t stop the scream that escaped you, nor can you physically open your eyes – it’s only when the small group and the person pulling on your hair get restrained by some outsiders that you can finally breathe. Another rock is thrown from inside the crowd, this time hitting right above your eyebrow. You think they get pinned to the ground.

Blood is running down your face. You just hope the cut isn’t deep.

The entire situation was a mess, especially when the puppet police officers appear – human ones needed to be called in.

Everything goes black after that, only remembering attempts to hold Howard back as he starts to punch the man in front of him into a pulp.

--

“Hold still.”

You’re back in the workshop, too scared to go home – it’s an unassuming little shed, with only a selected few knowing the location. Obviously, Howard was one of the individuals. And it was him who was being patched up, his wrists raw and on the verge of bleeding. He winces every time you press the cotton ball on it, tweezers trembling when you can’t stay calm.

You’re scared.

Guilty.

“… I’m sorry.”

He looks up at you. “For what?” his gaze burns into your skull. Your skin is on fire, and you can’t feel separated from the situation from earlier. It still feels like it’s happening, right now. “You didn’t do anything.” He’s right, but it still feels wrong. He rubs your knuckles with his free hand, already bandaged up.

It does little to calm you.

“I know. I know, but fuck… maybe if I wasn’t so involved with the industry, then maybe – “

“They would still go after you, even if you weren’t involved at all. Because you’re Geppetto’s niece.”

You halt, shutting your eyes. It happens, sometimes. You’ll get yelled at, threatened – but you’ve never been hit. They never went that far. The dam finally broke, and now the water is rushing out. It was only a matter of time, but even so, it still hurts more than it should. Scares you more than expected.

You’re so engrossed in everything that’s drowning you to notice the puppet’s ‘heart’ beating faster than usual, on the table.

Tag list

@connorsoddsock

#yandere #yandere lies of p #yandere pinocchio #yandere Pinnochio x reader #pinocchio x reader #lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p pinocchio

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Secret in your Heart

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories.

Expect grammatical errors. Not 100% accurate. Not proofread.

I was in the infirmary, tending to a minor injury, when I heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Jude: "*coughs* Tch. Hurry."

Roger: "You talk like you're ordering a beer at a pub. Being short-tempered won't do you any good, you know?"

Roger: "Hm? Hey, what's the matter, little lady? Are you hurt?"

Kate: "Yes. Sorry, I borrowed some of your ointment."

Roger took out a syringe and a drug, swiftly injecting it into Jude's arm.

Kate: "W-What's that for?"

I couldn't help but ask, noticing the oddity in the flow of events.

Jude: "An unapproved, dangerous drug that hasn't even been clinically tested."

Kate: ".........."

Roger: "That suspicious look of yours is nice. You're lucky to have someone worry about you, Jude."

Roger: "I've tried everything, and this is the one that worked best for his symptoms."

Kate: "What's wrong with him?"

Jude was so unresponsive that I thought he couldn't hear me.

Roger: "He's almost cured now, but he used to have weak lungs."

Jude: "Hey, you're blabbering patient information carelessly, you quack."

Jude: "Ah, damn it. I still feel dizzy. You probably got the dosage wrong."

Roger: "Even if I make a mistake, I still don't know what the right dosage is because I'm still collecting data."

Kate: "Wouldn't it be fatal to Jude if you injected a lethal dose?"

Roger: "Hahaha! Maybe."

(Maybe, you say?)

I couldn't help but be stunned at the sight of Jude, who looked so unconcerned.

A few days after that exchange, I found Jude smoking in the lounge.

(I think Roger mentioned something about him having respiratory problems.)

Kate: "Should you be smoking?"

Jude: ".........."

He briefly took his gaze from the complicated book he was reading, then completely ignored me.

(Worrying about him seems like a waste of time.)

Kate: "I heard it could be beneficial as a medicine in the past, but now I hear that it can actually be harmful."

Kate: "Maybe you should quit since Roger is taking the trouble to treat you."

Jude: "It's not a treatment but rather an experiment."

(I guess that's true.)

He was reading a book while puffing on a cloud of smoke.

Jude loved money and other people's misfortune and always had sarcastic remarks whenever he opened his mouth.

But for some reason, his usual arrogance was nowhere to be found, and he looked tired, which worried me a little.

Jude: "What's with all the gawking?"

I still felt like his words lacked energy, and he looked out of sorts.

Kate: "Are you that busy with work?"

Victor told me that he was running a trading company and was also dabbling in the financial business.

I also heard that he and Ellis occasionally go out to collect debts in person.

(He also has responsibilities in the Crown, so it's not surprising if he's exhausted.)

Jude: "It's none of yer business."

Kate: "Are you not getting enough sleep?"

Jude: "That's none of yer business, either."

His voice seemed to be slightly hoarse.

Kate: "I still think you should quit smoking."

Jude: "..........."

He pushed his cigarette into the ashtray and lifted my chin.

Jude: "If you're willing to kiss me, then why not?"

Kate: "Ha!?"

I stared at him up close, and he quickly let go as if he had grown tired of playing with a toy.

Jude: "Of course, it's a joke. Why are ya taking it so seriously?"

(And to think that I'm worried about you!)

Jude: "I can't die because of some shitty promise. And I can't do it without smoking cigarettes."

Kate: "Promise?"

Jude: "Tch."

His face contorted as if he had said something unnecessary.

Jude: "It's none of yer fucking business, so forget it."

(Promise to whom?)

(He can't die? Wait, is that what he's living for?)

As I stared at his profile, several questions popped into my head.

These questions lingered in my chest like cigarette smoke, creating a hazy uneasiness.

➟ Collection Event Masterlist

#ikemen villains #ikemen villain #jude jazza #ikevil jude #ikevil translations #ikevil jp

[oswildin]

Caring: Brain & Heart (Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: Letting others care for you was a challenge. In the world you lived in, it was hard to let your guard down… But when you and Joel come into each others lives, those walls begin to come down.

Warnings: Violence, Injury, Age Gap, Swearing

Help me when I'm at a loss for words

Bring up all my memories

Folder please, in the temporal lobe

Knowing Joel Miller was an accident. A mere accident. Something you didn’t expect to happen. Especially not in a world as fucked as the one you lived in. Getting yourself caught up in dangerous shit, just to get by. And here you were, standing in front of your angry boss. Your last deal had gone south, meaning no win for the boss, meaning no win for you.

Standing in your shitty little rundown apartment, you were faced with your boss. He was fuming, you could see it in his eyes. But his face remained calm. And so did his tone, which only frightened you more. FEDRA had a tight grip on ration cards, offering the worst jobs possible in exchange for a days worth of food. Supplies were short, and times were tough. You had to do what you could to survive.

“So…” Your boss, Stanley, spoke as he sat on your sofa that was falling apart. “What happened?” He gave you a sympathetic stare, one you knew he was faking. You tried to hold your ground, clearing your throat as you folded your arms across your chest.

“The guy you sent me to meet, he wasn’t there.” You told him. “But a FEDRA guard was. They didn’t see me, but they must’ve known about the deal.” You offered, sighing as his jaw clenched.

“And how would’ve they have known that?” He pried, leaning forward. “Hm?” He narrowed his eyes. “Unless somebody told them…” His tone was accusatory. You glared at him.

“Stan, I rely on these little jobs you give me to get by. Why the hell would I rat you, let alone myself, to FEDRA?” You snapped as he shook his head.

“People will do anything for a price.” He stood, making his way to stand before you. You didn’t falter.

“Well lucky for you, I ain’t one of them.” You said sternly. “Besides, it was your guy who didn’t show. I don’t suppose you’ve interrogated him?” You pushed. “Maybe he’s the rat. Lord knows you don’t half know how to pick em.” You knew that was a stupid thing to say, but you were always quick with your tongue before thinking. Your boss almost growled as his hand shot out, gripping you tightly by your jaw, holding you in place as he stared down at you.

“You better watch that tongue of yours before I cut it out.” He threatened. “Would be such a shame for a pretty thing like you to lose it.” You tried to struggle. “Never undermine me again, got it?” He shook your head slightly, forcing you to nod at him. He dropped your jaw, as you stumbled slightly, reaching up to gently rub where he had held you. He reached into his jacket pocket, revealing a substantial sized baggy, as he threw it down on a nearby table. You eyed it, seeing a load of pills inside. “Lucky for you, I give second chances.” He smirked. “Drop this off to the address on the paper in the bag.” He began to walk towards the door. “Oh and (Y/N)…” You turned to look at him. “Don’t fuck this up.” And with that he left you.

You swore under your breath, kicking a nearby chair in frustration. Walking over to the baggy, you opened it, taking out the paper he’d mentioned as you looked at the address written down. It was another apartment building, not far from you. But you couldn’t go during the day, it was too risky for a guard to stop and search you. That meant having to find a way to sneak out after dark.

Thankfully, you’d managed it. Staying out of sight, you made it into the building, climbing the stairs to the apartment you were ordered to go to. Knocking on the door, you looked over your shoulder, making sure no one saw you, keeping your hood up. After a brief few seconds, the door opened, as you barged inside, pushing past the figure who stood before you.

Once inside, you took down your hood, as you turned to see a man. One you vaguely recognised from around the QZ. He was rugged, and handsome, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans with greying hair and a beard. You took the baggy out from under your hoodie, throwing it down on the dining table.

“Gift from Stanley.” You told him. “I guess you’re expecting a delivery.” He seemed to analyse you, staring you up and down with a hard glance.

“Ain’t you a bit young to be doing all this?” He finally spoke, his voice monotone. You shrugged.

“Ain’t you a bit old to be doing all this?” You quipped back, causing him to raise a brow in your direction.

“Quite the smart ass aren’t we…” He mumbled, as you folded your arms.

“I’ve been told I have a certain charm.” You gave him a tight smile. You glanced round the dimly lit apartment, your eyes landing on an open can of beans that sat on the table. Without saying a word, you picked the can up, peeking inside before grabbing the spoon that was sat in it and taking a spoonful, shoving it into your mouth. Instantly you pulled a face, realising the taste was awful, guessing it was well past it’s sell by date before putting it back down. You looked back at the stranger, who stared at you with an unimpressed look.

“Do you often barge into peoples home, throw drugs on the table, insult their age and eat their food?” He asked, his own arms folding over his chest.

“Funny enough, this is the first.” You sweetly smiled at him, before pulling out one of the chairs and sitting in it. He stared in slightly disbelief, and irritation. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.” You offered.

“I’m Joel, and you were just leaving.” He nodded towards the door.

“I can’t go back now.” You told him. “Guards everywhere. I took my window of opportunity, shift swapping time.” You explained.

“I don’t care.” He gruffly told you. You stayed silent, still being nosey around the place as he simply stared.

“Has anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” You teasingly asked, causing the man to scoff, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at you.

“You’re one to talk.”

False lovin', when I was illogical

Didn't know they held each other's hands 'cause they made one whole

Brain stem, yells temperature

Arise now, sweat, raindrops down my silky flesh

And that was how you met Joel. It was how you came into his life. Joel was grumpy, hard, and occasionally cold. You could see the walls he’d built up. Walls that most people had built up. Either due to losing a loved one, shielding themselves from reality, looking out for themselves or just the simple fact it was easier to act like they didn’t care than admit they cared more than most. Your hunch told you Joel was all of them. You didn’t know much about his past. He never would open up. The only things you knew about the man was that he was from Austin, he had a brother called Tommy and he had his fingers in a lot of pies. You don’t know what drew you to Joel. Whether it was the mystery that surrounded him, his ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude or whether he just made you feel safe. Something you hadn’t felt in years. Even living in the QZ didn’t ease the feeling of fear and dread, especially when you dealt with the guys you did.

You’d often show up at Joel’s after dark, usually unannounced at the same time every evening. It became routine. Hell, Joel seemed to even begin to somewhat enjoy the company, although he’d never admit that to you. Often you’d both just sit around listening to old cassettes he’d collected, him laying on the sofa with his eyes closed as you nosied around the place. You’d also often have little back and forth comments at each other. It became almost endearing.

“Old man.”

“Smartass.”

“Grumpy.”

“Pain in the ass.”

Those were some of the little comments you’d throw around at each other.

But doing up my consciousness

Good, good, good now

Ability to sleep sound

Throughout the star times

An illusion, if you just remove it

Joel sat at the dining table, furrowing his brows as he glanced at the clock.

8:15PM.

You were late.

He took the last sip of his whiskey, gulping it down as he placed the glass down on the table. You were never late. He almost began to worry. Almost. He didn’t care what happened. Whether you got caught by the guards, or got hurt in the crossfire by fireflies, or if your boss had paid you a visit… He didn’t care.

He paced round the apartment, pouring himself another glass of whiskey, letting the liquor create a smooth burn down his throat. Dragging a hand down over his face, he swore under his breath. He quickly grabbed his jacket as he threw it on, exiting his apartment.

He didn’t care.

Standing outside your apartment door, he frowned as he saw the door open a crack. It was unlike you to be naive enough to leave the door open. However, after hearing a man’s voice the hairs on his neck became raised, his body becoming alert as he realised who it was in there.

“I did what you asked.” You told Stanley, watching anxiously as he looked angry. “I delivered the pills, I smoothed it over with that guard, I didn’t mention you or your guys-“ You tried, but his fist came down fast on the table in front of you, causing you to jump.

“And yet three of my guys got taken into custody!” Stanley exclaimed. “I’m down 3 men, and I’ve got people to keep happy.” Before you could do or say anything, he’d lunged towards you, grabbing your hair causing you to yelp as he dragged you round, his usual calm demeanour gone, replaced with a man who was capable of anything. He roughly threw you down, your body landing with a crash to the hard floor as you groaned. However, before anything else could happen, you heard another voice.

“Hey!”

Stanley turned, seeing Joel stood in the doorway, fire in his eyes as he stared down the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin?” Joel growled, as Stanley looked him up and down.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Stanley snarled. “Run home Joel. Go get your fix elsewhere.” You stayed put, watching the two men anxiously. You knew this wasn’t going to end well. As Stanley went to turn back his focus to you, Joel charged towards him, grabbing his shoulder to turn him back round as his fist met with your boss’ cheek, causing him to stumble back. You stared wide eyed at Joel, shocked he had even shown up in the first place. Stanley reached a hand up to touch his cheek, seeing blood on his fingers as Joel looked at him, a small smug glint in his eye.

“How about-“ Joel stepped towards him, eyes narrowed. “You run home, Stan.” He warned, causing the man to clench his jaw, anger visible in his face. Stanley turned to look down at you, sending you a sharp glare before pushing past Joel, bumping his shoulder deliberately as he waltzed out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him. You finally pushed yourself up from the floor, wincing a little as you stretched your back. Joel’s gaze finally fell on you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, slowly walking towards your dining table, pulling out a chair as you sat down.

“Well, your annoying ass didn’t show up-“ He began, eyes following you. “So I thought I’d show up at yours and steal your food for once.” You let out a small laugh, reaching out for the bottle of liquor that sat on the table, popping off the lid as you lifted it up for a swig.

“Seems fair.” You heard Joel come take a seat beside you, as you held out the bottle. He took it from your hand, taking his own swig, pulling a face after swallowing the liquid.

“Where the hell did you get this stuff?” He grimaced as you smirked.

“Yeah sorry, should’ve said-“ You took the bottle back. “It’s an acquired taste.” After a moment of silence, Joel frowned as he looked at your disheveled state.

He didn’t care.

“What did he want?” He asked, leaning back in his seat. You cleared your throat.

“He thinks I’m a rat.” You scoffed. “Me.” You shook your head. “Asshole.” Taking another swig. “He fucks up and he thinks he can just blame me.”

“You need to be careful dealing with people like him.” Joel told you as you rolled your eyes.

“Yes, thank you old man, I am aware.” You sarcastically spoke.

“I’m serious, (Y/N).” He leant forward, resting his arms on the table. “These people don’t give a shit about you. You’re a chess piece to them, a pawn in their operation.”

“You think I don’t know that Joel?!” You raised your voice slightly, tired of the lecture already. “Jesus.” You sighed. “Look, I appreciate the concern, but you know what it’s like in here. You can spend your day shovelling dead bodies and get barely enough rations to have one meal.” You ran a hand through your hair. “It ain’t enough. So you have to do what you have to do.” It was only then that Joel looked at you, fully, properly. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the exhaustion clear on your face, the specks of dirt that painted your skin and the slight shake in your hand from hunger. He sighed, standing up from his seat, grabbing the bottle from your hand as he placed it down, causing you to stare at him in confusion.

“Come on.” He huffed out, seeing your jacket on the arm of the sofa, grabbing it as he threw it in your direction. “You can’t stay here.” You frowned, going to argue but he sent you a look that said ‘you’re coming whether you like it or not’.

When did humans start to separate

Brain and heart as if they could stay alive alone?

Flip it around the other way

If they were apart and you had no power start or no database

Only a shell remains

What fun is it, to be so calculated

Or be taken advantage of, 'cause your heart's too trusting

Silent expressed push my head into my chest

Bind them up, forever wed

"Don't drift too far, " they said

Ah, warm water. Oh how you missed it. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around yourself to dry off, enjoying the feeling of warmth and cleanliness. Changing into some clean clothes Joel had given you, you finally stepped out of the bathroom, a pleasant smell of food hitting your nose as you turned to see Joel sat at the dining table with two plates of food set down.

“Thought I was gonna have to send a search party for you in there.” He commented as you walked towards him. “Not exactly 5 star, but it does the job.” He nodded down to the food as you took a seat, feeling your stomach rumble at the sight. It looked like some stew of some sort, no doubt from a can, but you didn’t care, it was food.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You told him sincerely as he shrugged, beginning to dig into his own meal. “I appreciate it.” You gave a small smile, and Joel almost choked at the sincerity in it.

“Don’t do that.” He said through chewing.

“What?” You looked confused, finally picking up your own cutlery to dig in.

“Your face.” He waved his spoon at you.

“So I can’t smile at you now?” You raised a brow.

“No.” He spooned another mouthful of good into his mouth. “Not unless you say something vaguely rude beforehand.”

“Okay, fine.” You rolled your eyes, putting a mouthful of stew in your mouth. “Your food tastes shit and you look weird.” Swallowing your food, you forced a smile onto your lips as he nodded.

“Better.” You fought the urge to laugh. He fought the urge to smile.

He didn’t care.

After eating, you found yourself getting sleepy. Washing down the meal with some whiskey didn’t help that. Sat on the sofa, Joel noticed your eyes beginning to close as you leant your head on the arm of the seat, your body curling up as you laid on your side, your feet just gently touching his thigh as your breathing deepened. His lips fell into a tight line, as he slowly got up, careful not to disturb you. Walking to his bed, he grabbed a spare blanket as he went back to you, crying not to make too much noise on the loud floorboards. Gently, he placed the blanket over you sleeping form, allowing you to be comfortable and warm. He stepped back, watching you for a moment before he decided to retreat to bed himself. As he laid down, he reached over into his bedside table draw, pulling out his own small baggy as he popped one of the pills into his mouth, washing it down with a half drunk glass of whiskey.

Maybe having someone else in the apartment could help ease him to sleep.

Help me when I'm too detached and cold

Give me the vitality that I need to trust love more

Joel woke with a start, feeling his skin wet with sweat as he glanced over, seeing you still peacefully asleep. Sighing, he lifted an arm behind his head as he stared out the window. It was beginning to get light. The day was going to have to start soon.

Yawning as you cracked open your eyes, you saw beams of the sun coming in from the bedroom window. Pushing yourself up, you heard the shower running as you realised Joel must’ve been getting ready. Not too long later, the bathroom door opened, revealing a shirtless Joel as your eyes widened, feeling warmth flush to your face as you pulled your gaze away, pretending to find something fascinating on the wall ahead.

As much as you tease Joel, you couldn’t deny he was an attractive man. In a way, you picking at him was your way of being friendly. Whilst also possibly fighting off any feelings you were beginning to develop for the man.

“Mornin’.” Joel’s voice brought you back to reality as you snapped your head his direction, seeing him leant against the wall, now wearing one of his signature plaid shirts. “Sleep well?”

“Surprisingly well.” You told him. “Considering it was a sofa.” You commented.

“Yeah, I could tell.” He raised a brow, a mischievous look in his eye. “Could hear your snoring’ all night.” He teased as you flipped him off.

“I don’t snore.” You told him adamantly, finally getting off the sofa.

“Wanna go next door and ask?” He moved into the kitchen to brew himself a coffee. “Pretty sure they heard you through the walls.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You scowled at him playfully. “What you on today?” You asked, changing the subject.

“Bodies.” He replied as you solemnly nodded. “You?”

“I’m er, going to stay clear today of work.” You told him, not letting your anxiety creep into your tone. You didn’t want him to question you. “Go home, sort some things.” He narrowed his eyes at your words, before pouring his coffee.

“Want me to walk you?” He asked, as you shook your head.

“I think I can handle walking to my building.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“Good.” You folded your arms. “Joel, I appreciate what you did for me, but I’m not some damsel in distress.” You sounded more irritated than you had meant to. You were so used to being on your own. Handling things alone. It felt wrong having someone else try and help. “I don’t need someone watching over me or coming to my rescue.”

“Hang on-“ Joel frowned, turning to face you.

“Just drop it.” You pleaded.

“For the record, I don’t think you need savin’ or any of that bullshit.” He continued. “And I’m not some knight in shining armour who’s going to be there at your every beck and call.” He was laying ground rules.

“I never asked you to.” You moved round to grab your jacket from the back of one of the chairs.

“Good.” He copied your words from earlier.

“Right, well then.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll see you later.” You marched out the door, leaving Joel alone as he sighed, placing his cup down on the side before gripping the counter.

He didn’t care.

Blood to the water, neither can fuel us alone

Fervency in my arteries, passion bloomin' through my bones

Heartstrings trigger emotion streams

You’d yet to change out of the shirt Joel had lent you. Something about it was comforting. Sighing to yourself, you mentally scolded yourself for your sharp tone with the man. You hadn’t meant to come across as… well.. Bitchy. You’d gotten so used to fending for yourself it was a hard habit to drop. To let anyone in. You hoped he understood. He’d gotten snappy with you times before…

“What’s with the watch?” You inquired, nodding at the jewellery that decorated his wrist. “It’s broken. Why keep it on?” Joel seemed to freeze at your words, instantly becoming tense.

“Sentimental value.” He simply answered, voice short as he clearly didn’t want to elaborate. However, you being you chose to make a snarky comment.

“Oh I get it.” You nodded slowly, causing him to turn to look at you, almost in shock at your words. “Sentimental value…” You repeated. “So you mean an ex lover gave it to you. She broke your heart.” You dramatically spoke, obviously trying to tease him. “You kept it for keepsakes and it just so happened it broke at the exact time she left you.” You raised a hand to your chest over your heart to add drama. However, when you saw Joel’s face you instantly dropped the act. “Joel?” You asked softly, realising you may have taken your playful teasing too far.

“Leave it.”

Stood in the kitchen of your apartment, you began to hear commotion outside. Frowning, you walked over to your window, looking out as you looked down below, only a few floors up. Looking out, you saw FEDRA guards and trucks surrounding the area you lived as you frowned. What on Earth was going on? However, before you could even think about doing anything, you were knocked to the ground, a massive bang filling your ears as the window smashed, glass falling onto your body which laid on the floor. Smoke began to rise from outside, flooding in through the now open window. Pushing yourself up, you winced, looking down at your legs as you realised amongst the bang, your building had shaken, causing a nearby shelving unit to fall down on top of you. How didn’t you feel it?

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself, trying to pull your legs from under the unit, causing pain to radiate through your body as you let out a yell. “Fuck, shit-“ You hissed.

Agape loves a journey, red rivers connect all of me

But, but be it steadfast, don't you disappoint me

Sometimes I think you're all I need, wise beyond belief

Joel threw another poor soul into the fire, being void of emotion as he kept himself detached from the job. It was cruel, but necessary. He was already in a bad mood. The incident with you before he left for work was not how he wanted to start his day. But it shouldn’t matter. No it didn’t. It couldn’t matter. He couldn’t allow himself to feel anything. Not even for you. His thoughts were disrupted, as a loud bang erupted, echoing through the walls and buildings as he frowned, turning to see rising smoke in the near distance.

“Everyone needs to get inside!” A nearby FEDRA guard exclaimed, beginning to usher workers off the streets. “There’s been a firefly attack a few streets over! Get inside!” Joel’s brows furrowed at the guards words. Something felt wrong. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. Wiping his hands on the rag, he walked over to one of the guards he knew.

“Wheres the trouble?” Joel asked, voice low as the guard checked round for anyone listening.

“Building got hit.” The guard started. “Apartments.”

“Which ones?” Joel almost urged.

“The ones next to the old barbers place.”

Joels heart sunk. That was your building.

“Shit-“ He muttered under his breath before taking off in the direction of the commotion. The guard tried shouting after him, but it was too late. Joel was off.

You’d tried multiple times to pull at your legs, to lift the unit, but it was no use. You dreaded to think what your trapped legs looked like. But you weren’t going to give up. Coughing, you forced yourself to sit up, clenching your teeth from the pain.

“Fucking asshole fireflies!” You grunted out, feeling anger towards the group at that moment in time. Looking round, you spotted your bat you kept under the bed in case of emergencies. It was a little bit out of reach, but if you just… Reaching out you tried your best to grip the bat, your fingers brushing it as you tried to ignore the pain. After a few minutes of trying, you finally managed to grab it, letting out a yell. Thankfully for you, the unit was made of wood. There was two options… smash it… or try and lift it using the bat. Grabbing some of the books that had come off the shelves, you stacked them, before wedging the top of the bat under the unit where your legs were keeping it from touching the floor, setting the middle of it on the books to allow the end of the bat to hang off it, enough for you to grip and push down on, using it as a makeshift aid to lift the shelves.

With a huff, you used all your strength to push down on the bat, screaming in agony as you did so, knowing your body was going to be bruised and sore for a while. It lifted the unit slightly, as you felt a bit of relief from your legs, however, it wasn’t enough to push it high enough for you to remove them. Knowing you had to put the unit back down, you felt tears prick at your eyes, carefully allowing it to fall back onto your legs. Where was someone?! Anyone?! A guard… Just someone.

“(Y/N)!”

You held your breath, hearing a familiar voice calling for you as you felt relief fill your mind.

“Joel!” You cried, hearing footsteps rushing towards you. “You know what I said about not being a damsel in distress?” You let out a breathy laugh. “Jokes on me, huh?” You could feel yourself beginning to get lightheaded from exhaustion and pain.

“You’re gonna be okay.” He secretly was more reassuring himself than you. “I’m gonna lift this-“ He appeared before you, standing over you as he eyed the unit. “And when I do, I need you to pull yourself out from under it, okay?” You nodded. “On the count of three…” He bent down, gripping under the unit, his hand skimming your skin as he did. “One… Two…” He began to lift. “Three!” He grunted out, pressure disappearing from your legs as you quickly pulled yourself from under the unit. Once you were in the clear, Joel let the unit hit the floor, immediately turning his attention to you. He knelt down, his hands coming to your face as he held you, searching for signs of any injury to your features. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked, voice a little shaky as you shook your head.

“Just my legs.” You told him, before finally looking down to see your right leg having a gash on it. “Yikes.” You felt your head grow heavy as you fought to keep it upright at the sight of the blood.

“I’m gonna lift you up, okay?” Joel told you, as he moved his hands from your face, placing one under your knees and the other around your waist, trying to be as soft as possible incase he hurt you. Joel hoisted you up, holding you close to his chest as he began to move towards the exit of your apartment. Feeling your body growing more tired, you allowed your eyes to close, feeling safe and protected by Joel’s presence.

When did humans start to separate

Brain and heart as if they could stay alive alone?

Flip it around the other way

If they were apart and you had no power start or database

Only a shell remains

Coming back round, you opened your eyes to reveal Joel’s apartment. You were laid on the sofa, as you peered down to see your injured leg wrapped in bandages. A hand appeared beside you, holding out a glass of water, which you accepted gratefully. Taking a sip of the liquid, your dry throat began to feel better.

“QZ water has never tasted so good.” You commented, taking another sip as Joel kept his lips in a tight line. “Remind me to never put a shelving unit in my apartment again.” You tried to joke as Joel sighed, standing over you.

“It’s not funny.” He huffed out. “You got hurt, and it could’ve been a lot worse.” You looked up at him.

“There’s no point in moping about it.” You shrugged. “May as well try and have a laugh.” He shook his head, disbelief in your words. “I’m fine!” You insisted. “Bit sore, but I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point.” He put his hands on his hips.

“Careful Joel, you’re starting to sound like you care.” You lightly teased, as you stared at up his face, seeing it unmoving, his eyes boring into your own. Clearing your throat, you pulled your gaze away, finishing off the glass of water.

“Damn fireflies.” He muttered under his breath. “They’re getting more and more violent.”

“Violence gets action.” You told him.

“Not when civilians get caught in the crossfire.” He clenched his fist, taking the empty glass from your hand as he placed it down on a nearby table. “Marlene needs to watch herself.” His voice warned.

“I’m sure she’s quaking in her boots.” You quipped, moving your body round to sit, wincing as your feet hit the floor. Joel turned seeing you moving, shaking his head as he approached you.

“No.” He told you. “Keep them elevated.” He ordered as you huffed, rolling your eyes before doing as he said, going back to laying on the sofa. “You’ll thank me later, it will help with the swelling.”

“I forgot you were a doctor.” You joked. “Doctor Miller. Nice ring to it.” You paused. “Although Nurse Miller is sexier.” He rolled his eyes at your jokes.

“Unbelievable.” He scoffed. “You’ve still got a tongue on you even when you’re in pain.” You sent him a big grin, one he couldn’t help but let the corners of his lips turn upwards slightly. Pulling up a chair, he sat in front of your legs. “Better check your legs not fallen off.” He gently began to unwrap the bandages as you watched him. You’d never seen this side of Joel. You sensed he was a caretaker. From the way he would watch those around him to the more obvious actions of looking after you. Even behind the hard facade, it would slip through and be evident in his character. Once the bandages were unwrapped, he checked the wound, as you realised he must’ve also cleaned it whilst you were passed out, the dried blood gone from your skin.

“Will I live?” You asked dramatically.

“Unfortunately.” He quipped back, causing you to fawn a look of shock.

“That’s not very good beside manners Nurse Miller.” You raised a brow. He began to re-wrap the wound.

“Keep it dry and covered for the next few days.” He told you. “Stay off it also.”

“Great.” You groaned, before realising… “My apartment…” You threw your head back. “I need to sort it.”

“No.” Joel finished wrapping your leg, as he sat back in his seat.

“No?” You repeated. “If you haven’t noticed Joel, it was a shit tip already, now it’s a land field.” You shook your head. “And I doubt the fireflies are gonna pop round to help tidy their mess.”

“I mean no, you’re not going back there.” You raised your brows at his words. “Until you’re better, you can stay here.”

“Joel, I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not.” He folded his arms. “You can’t work with your leg, and as I said, you’ve got to stay off it.”

“Joel, I can’t expect or ask you to fend for me as well as yourself…” You softened your tone.

“It will be fine for a few days I’m sure.” He insisted. You both sat in silence for a moment, as you tried to read his expression.

“Why?” You asked. “Why are you doing this?” He pursed his lips.

“You may be a pain in the ass, but…” He sighed. “You’re my pain in the ass.” You felt a smile appear on your lips at his words.

His.

Pain in the ass… But still. This was basically a love letter from Joel.

“I always knew you were a softie deep down.” You lightly teased, as he pointed a finger at you.

“If you tell anyone-“

“You’ll kick my ass, yeah yeah.” You waved him off. “I know. You gotta keep up that tough guy reputation.” He put his finger down, narrowing his eyes.

“Now, what do you want for dinner?” He paused. “Canned fruit that was out of date 3 years ago, or canned beans that taste like shit?”

“Ohhh…” You pursed your lips. “I’m spoilt for choice.”

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to care a little.

What fun is it, to be so calculated

Or be taken advantage of, 'cause your heart's too trusting

Silent expressed push my head into my chest

Bind them up, forever wed

"Don't drift too far, " they said

#Pedro pascal x reader #the last of us fic #tlou hbo #joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us x reader #pedro pascal

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 7: Divinity

Contents | Part 6 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) The aftermath of your confession leads to some unexpected revelations.

Word Count: <6.8K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, adult & sexual themes, adultery, descriptions of mild injury. Readers must be 18+

You found yourself back at the pub, wedged between your father and his wife Nicola, the scent of ale on his breath and her flowery perfume mingling in the air in front of your face. You always felt so small in their presence, so weedy and meek in comparison to their large, proud frames. 

He said something and she laughed, nudging you gently in the arm as though his words had been meant for you. But you hadn't been listening, resorting to breathing out an absentminded chuckle that never quite made a sound. 

You'd gone into the toilets as soon as you returned from the church, sitting alone in the cubicle furthest from the door with your head in your hands. You'd listened as two of your cousins came in, chatting and laughing as they peed and washed their hands. It was the first time you'd felt truly sinful; looking down at the damp patch in your underwear, the red fingertip marks on your thighs as the girls you used to play house with as children stood touching up their makeup on the other side of the door. 

They would always make you the postman, have you knock on the door to their playhouse with pretend letters and parcels. You would wander around your aunt and uncle's house looking for scrap paper and cardboard boxes to bring to them, stick old stamps on the front to make them look real. You never understood why the adults told them off for leaving you out; you never felt left out, always perfectly happy on the other side of the door. 

You'd waited until they left to finally emerge from your cubicle, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the nude sheen of lipstick smudged around your mouth. You scrubbed at it with a paper towel until your skin turned raw, as though if you wiped hard enough, you could erase the kiss altogether. 

But you weren't sure you wanted to erase it. You didn't even know if you could; the moment his hands grabbed your face replaying on a loop in your head as your father continued to talk beside you. 

"Where's the boyfriend?" he asked after downing the dregs of his pint. 

He never called him Alfie, always 'the boyfriend'. 

"He went home," you replied apathetically. 

"Were you arguing with him earlier or am I making that up?" 

"Hm? Oh, over there? No, I was er, I had a bit of a... thing with Gina." 

"Ah." 

He didn't pry. Neither did Nicola. You appreciated it, but the quiet lull that followed made you squirm, adjusting the straps of your dress and twiddling your necklace as Superman by Black Lace thumped through the speakers. They started doing the actions to the song, dancing in their seats either side of you and throwing their thumbs over their shoulders like they were hitchhiking. 

"And that's my cue to leave," you said, standing up and shimmying past your father's legs to escape. 

"What? Not embarrassed of your old man are you?" He laughed. 

You turned and smiled down at him. "Aren't daughters supposed to be?" 

He never danced when you were little, wouldn't have been caught dead bopping in his seat, pretending to comb his hair like Danny from Grease. But he wasn't with Nicola back then, and maybe that was why. Maybe all it really took was the right person to make a man behave outside of himself.

You wandered over to a table on the other side of the room; your mother, aunt, grandmother and Mara sitting around it in silence.

"Thought this was a christening, not a funeral," you said as you pulled up a chair. 

Mara glared up at you, cheek resting on her fist as she stirred her drink with the tip of her finger, clearly exasperated by whatever they'd been talking about before you arrived. 

"Where've you been?" your mother asked.

"I was just sitting with Dad and-"

"No, before that. I was looking for you, I wanted to get a nice picture under the banner." 

"Oh, I went outside." 

"What for?" 

"Nothing in particular." 

You felt yourself unconsciously pulling down the skirt of your dress, eyes shifting across to your sister, just long enough for her interest to pique. 

"So, a godmother, ey?" said your aunt. "That'll be good practice for when you have your own." 

You resisted the urge to groan. It seemed like all the women in your family ever wanted to talk about was marriage, babies, settling down, like there was a clock inside your uterus that only they could hear ticking.

"Oh that's- That's a... long way off," you replied with a tight smile. 

"Not too long, I hope," said your mother. "I'm telling you, Ellis, you don't want to end up like Mara, in your late thirties and only just starting a family-"

"Excuse me?" Mara interrupted. 

"I'm not criticising, love, I'm just saying as someone who's experienced being both a younger mum and an older mum, I much preferred raising you and your brother than I did Ellis." 

"Wow, burning bridges with all your kids today, are you?" you said plainly. "Why don't we go three for three; head down to Cain's plot and tell him he was a shit driver." 

"Oh Ellis, for Christ's sake, must you say things like that!?" 

"Fucking hell," Mara grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb. 

"It was just a joke." You shrugged. 

"A distasteful one," said your mother.

You could have sworn you spotted a slight giggle behind Mara's hand. She never had any sense of humour when it came to Cain, could barely even listen to people talk about him without growing agitated. But in this moment, her disdain for your mother seemed to outweigh her grief, allowing the corners of her mouth to curl at the sound of offended scoffs around the table. 

"He'd have laughed at that," you said. 

Your mother, aunt and grandmother shook their heads in accidental unison. You rolled your shoulders, trying to release the tension in your neck. 

"What's got into you today?" your mother asked.

A priest, almost. 

"Nothing. Sorry, I'm just... Not in the right frame of mind to be talking about babies and..." you trailed off, blowing out a puff of air through puckered lips before rising to your feet. "Sorry."

You walked away, weaving through a group of small children playing musical statues in the middle of the room. 

There was a tap on the back of your arm, a gentle tug at your waist. You turned to find Mara behind you, slightly out of breath and sighing as she began to speak. 

"Hey, listen, don't let her get under your skin. You know what she's like, she's just abrasive without even meaning to be-"

"No it's- It's fine, it's not that," you replied. 

"Then what is it?" 

"Nothing." 

"Has Alfie done something?" 

"No. Well I mean, he left which was a bit annoying, but no, he's... I'm..." 

"Is it the priest?" 

"What?" 

"He came to say goodbye, then ten minutes later I watched you leave through the same door. Now you're back, you're annoyed about something, and your lipstick's gone..." 

"Mara." 

She shrugged, raising her hands in surrender. "Fine, I'm mistaken."

"You are." 

"Fine." 

"Look, I'm going to go. It's not because of that, I just... You know parties aren't really my thing." 

"I know." She glanced over her shoulder, then back to you. "Nathan's not been drinking. I'll get him to drive you home." 

"He doesn't have to-"

"Wait there." 

Nathan smelled good. Clean and expensive, the kind of smell you'd notice on your clothes hours after he hugged you and find yourself pressing your nose to the material. He dressed well, nice suits and neat hair, thick platinum wedding ring glinting as he gripped the steering wheel. You'd always liked him, liked how easy he found people; able to know what they needed from him without ever having to ask.

You were staring out the passenger window, distracted by thoughts of Father Benedict, running the tip of your index finger over your lips and wondering if he might be somewhere doing the same. 

"She worries about you, you know," said Nathan. "Mara, I mean." 

You turned to look at him. "I've told her I'm fine." 

"No, I don't just mean lately. I mean all the time."

"She barely speaks to me. We've seen more of each other in the last few weeks than we have in years."

"Yeah and you know what? She's happier."

"You say that like I'm the reason we don't-"

"No, I know you're not the reason." He turned a corner, glancing in his rearview mirror before continuing. "She just... I don't think she knows how to love you up close. So instead she just worries from afar." 

"But there's nothing to worry about. I'm a grown woman. It's not like I'm out doing drugs or jumping out of planes or-"

"I mean she worries about you. Worries if you're happy, if you're doing okay, if you need to talk but don't feel like you can reach out because you think she's going to be critical or judgemental or snappy." 

You didn't answer, returning your attention to the window.

"You can talk to her, Ellis." 

A laugh escaped you in a breath. "She just wants the gossip on the priest," you said jokingly. 

He laughed too. "She thinks something's going on between you." 

"I don't know why." 

"She knows you better than you think." 

You watched as a traffic light turned green moments before you got to it, allowing him to keep driving without having to slow down. 

"Do you believe in signs?" you asked. 

"Like fate? The universe?" 

"Like... a higher being." 

"I think if it helps people to think they're being sent signs from above, then who am I to stop them?" 

"But would you follow the signs? Do as they seem to tell you?" 

"It depends." 

"On what?" 

"If they aligned with what I already wanted to do." 

You laughed softly. 

It was still light outside when you arrived home, but the air was cooler, the setting sun turning the clouds a watercolour of pinks and golds. You climbed out of the car, bending forward to wave through the tinted window before turning around and heading down the path towards your front door. You heard the smooth whoosh of the engine behind you, tyres crunching over loose stones and gravel as he drove away.

"Oh, fuck," you whispered to yourself, suddenly realising you didn't have your bag. Your phone, keys and purse still sitting on the floor of the church where you'd thrown it in frustration.

You knocked and waited a while, but when no one came, you made your way around the back instead. You slipped through a broken slat in the wooden fence, your dress catching on an exposed nail, a soft tearing sound making you stop and let out a groan. You freed yourself carefully and continued into the back garden, sighing with relief when you saw the patio door ajar, Gina's ashtray balanced on the windowsill beside it. 

Sean and Sam were stood in the kitchen, chatting and laughing as they rummaged through the cupboards, the sound of clattering glass almost drowning out their voices. Sean turned around with a litre of vodka in one hand, a bottle of grenadine in the other. He startled when he saw you, his body stiffening, gasping in fright. 

"See what I mean," he said breathlessly. "Always creeping up on me." 

"I did knock," you replied. 

"Sorry, we mustn't have heard," said Sam. 

"It's okay." You wandered across the kitchen towards the hall, fiddling with the small rip on your dress. 

"Do you want a drink?" Sam called out to you. "Sean closed on a house so we're making shit cocktails to celebrate." 

You smiled. "No, that's okay. Congratulations though." You paused as you reached the door. "Is Alfie home?" 

Sean shrugged. "Not sure, we've only just got back." 

You made your way slowly up the stairs, running your hand over the banister; the dark, scuffed wood reminding you of the confessional booth, bringing back the smells, the heat, the heart-pounding tension. It felt weird knowing your relationship was over before actually saying the words out loud; like this space between the kitchen and the bedroom was some strange realm where you were together and apart at the same time - schrödigner's staircase. 

You arrived at his bedroom door, taking a deep breath before knocking gently. But when he didn't answer, you let yourself in, finding the room empty, a sinking feeling in your gut at the realisation that he must be waiting for you in yours. It made you feel even worse, somehow, the thought of him sitting on your bed twiddling his thumbs while you were out kissing another man. 

You closed the door softly and walked towards your room, stopping as your hand reached for the doorknob when a shuffling sound stole your attention. 

It was coming from the other end of the landing, making you glance over your shoulder to listen. But after a moment, you shook away the curiosity and went inside, brow furrowing when you found yourself alone; the room quiet, empty, everything just as you'd left it. 

You turned around and made your way back, passing Alfie's room, then Sean's, then Sam's, until eventually you came to Gina's. It was the biggest room in the house; best view, closest to the bathroom. The door stood near the top of the stairs, looking down the length of the landing like a boss' chair at the head of a long table. 

You pressed your ear to it, another shuffling sound coming from the other side. Then you opened it. 

You weren't sure why you didn't walk back out, why you didn't gasp or shriek or cover your eyes. Instead you stood there, head tilted slightly to one side with a strange calmness as you took in the sight of her on her hands and knees at the bottom of the bed, breasts swaying pendulously to the rhythm of your boyfriend's listless thrusts. 

They stopped the moment they saw you; Gina scarpering with a panicked yelp to hide beneath the duvet, Alfie backing himself awkwardly into the corner of the room, dick shrivelling like a punctured balloon until it was practically microscopic. 

"Oh my god, Ellis," said Gina, panting to catch her breath. "I'm so-"

"You- You weren't supposed to be back-" Alfie began to stammer, cupping himself to protect what little dignity he had left. "Look it's not- It's not... Fuck!"

They continued to talk over each other, a mess of half-finished excuses and apologies that you didn't care to listen to. You remained quiet, eyes trailing slowly over both of them; his sweaty forehead, the mascara smudged beneath her eyes. 

"Ellis..." she sniffled. "Ellis, please say something." 

You glanced down at their clothes in a heap on the floor, a discarded foil wrapper beside them. You crouched down and picked it up - Mutual Climax Delay Textured Condoms - and out of nowhere, a giggle began to take root at the base of your throat. 

They stared at you in shock as the sound bloomed into a much heartier laugh, your shoulders shaking, hand covering your mouth. 

"Wh-" Alfie muttered in confusion, still frozen in the corner of the room. 

Gina hugged the duvet tighter to her chest, brows coming together over watery eyes. "Why are you laughing?" 

You calmed yourself with a breath, letting your head fall back to gaze up at the ceiling. "Now this is a sign," you said. 

"A sign?" she replied. 

"A sign for what? Ellis, please just- Can we all talk about-"

You let go of the wrapper, watching it flutter to the ground, before turning and walking out of the room without another word.

You weren't sure how long you'd been walking. But it was dark now, so it must have been a while. You'd taken off your shoes, holding them by the straps as you wandered barefoot through the quiet streets. 

When it began to rain, you'd stopped for a moment, tipping your face up to the sky and closing your eyes with a smile, welcoming the cool shower across your warm skin. But after a while, you found yourself wishing it would stop; shivering, teeth chattering, the fabric of your dress clinging uncomfortably to your body. 

You didn't have a phone, nor your purse, though it wasn't like you had money in there anyway. A bus drove past and you considered stopping it, wondered if the driver would take pity on you, let you ride for free. But by the time the thought came to you, it had already disappeared around a corner. 

There was a sharp sting in the ball of your foot, making you stumble slightly, hissing in pain. You sat down on a nearby wall to inspect it, prising a small shard of thick, dark green glass from your skin and watching as blood began to ooze from the fresh cut.

"Wonderful," you muttered, throwing the glass into a bush and standing up with a sigh. 

If there really was a god, you thought, how could they justify this? Alfie and Gina, safe and warm together in the house you'd caught them fucking in. Yet here you were, barefoot, soaking wet, limping down the same street where a creepy stranger had stalked you just a few months ago. 

Had your sins really been worse than theirs?

As you grew closer to your destination, you began to question why you hadn't just walked to your mother's, or Mara's, even Dawn the receptionist from work lived nearer than this. You thought about turning around; maybe by the time you got home you'd be dry, calm, you could sneak into your room and lock the door, sleep until the sun rose and set again. 

But you kept going, hobbling across the road and making your way down the dark, winding path you'd grown far too familiar with. You swore under your breath as the soles of your feet pressed into the rough stone, making you wince as you hurried over it, like running across hot coals. 

You knocked gently on the front door of the rectory, leaning back to regard the house as you waited; windows draped in darkness, so quiet and still, it was as if no one resided there at all. You realised this was the first time you'd seen it so close; the weathered stone and ivy climbing the walls, the quaint front door and doormat he'd thrown down without taking off the price tag. 

You smiled to yourself and crouched down, picking at the edge of the sticker with your nail until it began to peel away. Then you heard footsteps. But they weren't coming from inside the house. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes following the sound of crunching gravel behind you. 

Father Benedict was walking slowly, apprehensively, eyes narrowed in confusion through strands of curly, wet hair sticking to his brow. The rain was falling heavily, turning his shirt and trousers a glossy black as they clung to his body, but he didn't seem fazed, too consumed by the sight of a stranger hunched over in his porch. 

You rose to your feet and he stopped approaching, no less concerned when he realised it was you standing there. 

"Ellis?" he whispered in bewilderment. 

"Oh, hi." 

"What are you doing here?" 

"I er..." 

Why were you there? You'd relied so much on the idea that you'd know once you arrived; that the words would just come naturally, that everything would fall into place without you having to think about it.

"I left my bag in the church," you said. 

His brow furrowed and he scratched the back of his head. "Well I've- sorry I've literally just got back from locking the place up, I didn't..." 

"It's okay, never mind." You emerged from beneath the shelter of the porch, taking off back towards the path. 

"Wait, did you... Did you walk here?" he called out. 

You glanced back at him, noticing his eyes falling to the shoes in your hand, your sopping dress, then up at the rain falling from the pitch black sky. 

"Mhm," you replied nonchalantly, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. 

"Y-you- Hold on, you walked all the way here? In this weather? Just to get your bag?" 

"Well it's got my phone and... stuff." 

He let out a huff through his nose, resting his weight on one leg. "Why are you really here?" 

"For my bag." 

"Ellis."

"What?" 

"Please don't lie to me." 

"I'm not." 

"Right. So now you're just going to walk home?" 

You shrugged. "Yeah." 

He glared at you for a moment before dropping his head with a sigh. "Come inside." 

"No, it's fine, I'll just come back when the church is open tomorrow." 

"In. Now." 

His voice made your stomach flutter; the firmness of it, how it wasn't a request, but a demand. You followed him back towards the front door as he unlocked it, moving aside to let you in first. 

You stepped into the house, water dripping from the hem of your dress onto the doormat beneath you, the soft material like heaven on your sore feet. He closed the door, switched on a lamp and took a step back to take in the sight of you, hands resting on his slender hips. 

He was just as drenched as you were, but it still felt like he was judging you, like he couldn't believe you'd be stupid enough to get caught in such a heavy downpour. 

You returned his gaze, allowing your eyes to scan him up and down quickly, just once. 

"Have you only just got back?" you asked. 

"From the church?" he replied. "Yeah, why?" 

"You've been there all this time?" 

He pressed his lips together and relaxed his posture, dropping his hands from his hips as he began to walk across the small living room. 

"Turns out there was quite a... lengthy conversation to be had," he said. 

You glanced up towards the sky, shifting awkwardly on your feet. "And what's he been saying?" 

"Mm, nothing much." He disappeared through a door, returning moments later with two towels, throwing one over to you. "He's not the most talkative of entities; the chats are often quite one-sided." 

"What's your side been saying?" 

"Mostly 'sorry'. And 'please don't smite me'," he replied dryly. 

You dropped your head and laughed softly.

He smiled reluctantly, as though he couldn't help it. Your eyes locked for a moment, the air turning heavy and close. You shivered, though you weren't sure if it was because of him, or the raindrops trickling down your back as they dripped from your hair.  

You wrapped the towel around your shoulders like a cloak, watching as he ruffled his through his hair. 

"I'll get you some clothes," he said. "You can't stay in that."

"I'm alright." 

"Don't be silly, look at-" he stopped, eyes falling to your feet. "You're bleeding." 

"Hm?" You looked down, noticing the small red smudge you'd left on the mat. "Oh, that's nothing. I just- I stepped on a piece of glass and-"

"Sit down." 

"Really, I'm-"

"Sit," he said, that same stern tone making your insides go funny as he gestured to the couch. 

You lay your towel down and sat on it, listening as he rummaged around in the other room. You assumed it was the kitchen; the sound of cupboards opening and closing, ceramic clinking together. 

He came back with a small plastic tub, walking around to you and kneeling at your feet. You bit the inside of your cheek at the sight of him knelt on the floor in front of you; such an innocent act, yet the thoughts it ignited were anything but pure. 

You sat quietly as you watched him open the tub, his long fingers sifting around until he finally found what he was looking for. He glanced up at you before taking your ankle in his hand, raising it slightly to look at the cut on the bottom of your foot. 

There was a grumble deep in the back of his throat. He reached down and picked up a small packet, tearing it open with his teeth and spitting out the paper.

Oh, you know exactly what you're doing, you thought. 

He slid out an alcohol wipe and looked up at you. "This is going to sting like a bitch." 

"Go for it," you replied quietly. 

You sucked the air through your teeth with a hiss, closing your eyes as he began to clean the cut.

"You okay?" he asked. 

"Mm. I'm one of those weird people who sort of likes the pain." 

He paused. "Sucker for punishment, ey?" 

"Maybe." 

"Is that why you seem to have such a problem staying away from me?" 

You shrugged. "That's what happens when you make yourself a sanctuary for people, Father. They tend to seek you out when they need it." 

"Why are you in need of sanctuary?" 

"Well." You pretended to ponder for a moment, tapping your lips with your index finger. "I almost fucked a priest today... on an altar." 

"It was a credence table," he muttered. 

You stuck your tongue into your cheek and laughed quietly. "Is it not understandable that I might want to talk to you about that?"

He stopped what he was doing, still holding your ankle as he looked up at you. "Ellis, you walked here. In the dark, in the rain, no coat, no phone, nothing. Because you wanted to talk about something that could've waited until tomorrow?" 

"Well I got a sign telling me to come now."

"Piss off." He rummaged through the tub and pulled out a box of plasters. 

"What? I thought you were a big believer in signs?"

He rolled his eyes, peeling open a large, square plaster and sticking it gently over your cut. "What was this sign, then?" 

"Oh, nothing, just walked in on my boyfriend fucking my best friend." 

He stopped, staring up at you in disbelief. "Are you messing with me?" 

"No." 

"Jesus Christ." 

"It's actually fine," you said with a sigh. "I'd made up my mind on the way home that I was going to end it anyway. Now I get to break up with him and be the victim in the situation. Worked out great."

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be."

"So I take it that's why you were wandering the streets with no shoes on." 

"I'm not usually one for dramatics. But I'd already stormed out when I realised I didn't have anything with me and I was too stubborn to go back." 

"Not one for dramatics... Hm." 

"I'm not." 

He finished mending your foot, lowering it gently to the ground and scooping everything back into the tub. It closed with a click and you watched as he took a moment to examine his handiwork, pressing his thumb along the edges of the dressing to make sure it was flush to your skin. 

You looked around the room, all cluttered and mismatched, outdated wallpaper and modest appliances. There was a small television in the corner, an old radio just like the one your parents had when you were a child. You could tell he'd done his best to make himself comfortable in the space; blankets draped over the back of the couch, a games console wired up to the TV, framed pictures on the coffee table and mantelpiece. 

"Does it get lonely here?" you asked. 

"Not really. I spend so much time around other people, it's nice having a place to be alone. Out there I'm Father Benedict, in here I'm just... Ben." 

"Ben," you repeated quietly, taking pleasure in how ordinary it sounded, how soft and human it made him.

He glanced up at you with a burning intensity, like he hadn't expected the way hearing his name on your tongue would make him feel; the intimacy of it catching him off guard, making him hesitate, fighting to maintain his composure. He stood up and cleared his throat. 

"I think I'm going to... Go and have a cigarette," he said. "Not had one all day, I'm gasping."

"Okay," you replied faintly.

He began to walk away but halted suddenly, turning on his heels. You sat quietly as he approached again, stopping in front of you. 

"Look," he said. "Everything that happened earlier in the church, the things I said to you... I'm not going to try and say I didn't mean them because clearly I did. But that doesn't... I- I shouldn't have-" He let out a defeated exhale. "I can't act on it, Ellis." 

You stayed silent, gazing up at him through your lashes as he paced slightly before you. 

"Stop looking at me like that," he growled.

"If you were strong in your convictions it wouldn't matter how I was looking at you." 

"I'm not strong. That's the problem."

"Then why do you expect me to be?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. You watched as he made his way back into the kitchen, listening to the sound of a drawer sliding open and shut again, his shoes clacking on the tiles. 

You stood up, resting your weight on your injured foot, testing how much pressure you could apply before it began to ache. 

There was a crucifix hanging on the far wall, a small table laden with trinkets and tools you assumed were important.  There was a cushion on the floor in front of it all, you pictured him knelt there, palms clasped in prayer. You limped over to it, running your fingers over an intricately decorated candle, a string of rosary beads in a metal dish, you fanned your thumb across the pages of a leather bound bible, wondering what prayers he'd made here.

He was such a contradiction; so normal and funny and grounded, yet he would kneel before a cross and speak to something he had no proof was even listening. There must be a reason, you thought, some benefit to it all. You knelt on the cushion, clasping your fingers together in front of you and closing your eyes with a cynical exhale.

After a little while, you heard the creak of the door, Father Benedict stepping back into the room. 

"What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Praying," you replied, eyes still closed. 

He scoffed. "Sure." 

"I am." 

"What about?" 

"I thought you weren't supposed to ask what people are praying for?" 

"That's wishes."

"Oh." 

You listened to his footsteps as they grew closer, suddenly feeling his presence at your side. You opened your eyes and turned your head, looking up to find him standing over you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite place.

"What are you praying for?" he asked again, his voice low and quiet. 

"I actually don't know if it can be classed as a prayer. Feels more like I'm just... thinking." 

"Tell me." 

You inhaled deeply through your nose, letting it out in a quiet sigh. "There are things I want. Things I've always wanted but never realised until I met you." 

He took a slight step closer, towering over you as you knelt at his feet. He was so serious. It changed his entire face, made him more beautiful than handsome, dark and otherworldly like a fallen angel. 

"I want..." you paused, wetting your lips. "I want to have faith in something. I want reason, risk, I want consequences. I want to let go and trust there's someone else pulling the strings, that if I just be a good girl and do as I'm told I can have more in this life than a boring job and strained relationships and a boyfriend who can't even make me come. I want to be vibrant and endearing and sensitive and open. I want to be punished when I do wrong." You paused. "I want to ask for what I want and believe it will be given to me."

He was still looking down at you, features hard and angular, eyes more grey than blue beneath the shadow of his heavy brow. 

"What do you want?" he asked. 

"Why? Are you going to give it to me?" 

He reached out his hand and your body stiffened, a shiver rolling down your back when his fingers brushed a lock of wet hair out of your face. 

"I'm going to get you some dry clothes," he said. 

You felt a sudden loss in your chest, like a candle being snuffed out, only a whisper of smoke to remind you it was once burning. He walked away, leaving you kneeling on the ground in silence.

You grimaced as you peeled the dress from your body, your skin pricking with goosebumps as it made contact with the cold air. The bathroom was small and draughty, old-fashioned tiles doing little to insulate the space. 

You threw the dress aside, the material so heavy with rainwater that it made a splattering sound as it hit the floor. Your bra followed, then your underwear, until you were completely stripped in the middle of the room. 

There was something strange about being naked in this place. The constant reminders of a higher being watching over you making you feel exposed, as though you were being ogled by a set of eyes you couldn't even see. It was also hard to forget who was waiting for you downstairs; only a door separating your unclad body from the man you wished would touch it, kiss it, ruin it completely. 

If you were more like Gina, you might have walked out there like this, lay yourself bare to him in the hopes that he would yield, surrender to his own desires and take you in his arms. But you weren't Gina, you were Ellis. And Ellis didn't like to gamble. So instead you picked up a towel and dried yourself off before inspecting the clothes Father Benedict had given to you. 

You unfolded a soft, heather grey sweatshirt, holding it up by the shoulders to read the university logo embroidered on the front. It must have meant a lot for him to keep it all these years, and now he was letting you wear it, the thought made you smile. There were pyjama bottoms too, a pair of socks and a set of black boxers. It made your cheeks warm, and you immediately rolled your eyes at yourself. 

You slipped on the underwear, adjusting the loose material until it sat comfortably around your waist. Then you pulled on the jumper, taking a moment to bask in the warmth, appreciating how dry and clean you felt. You picked up the pyjama bottoms, looking at them for a moment before putting them back on the side; maybe it was okay to take a small leaf from Gina's book. She owed you this much. 

You made your way back downstairs to find Father Benedict sitting on the couch with one leg crossed over the other. He was still in his wet clothes, hair brushed back out of his face, staring off into space as though he'd forgotten he needed to change too. Or maybe he just didn't care. You stood on the other side of the room, jumper skimming the tops of your bare thighs as he continued to daydream. 

"What are you thinking about?" you asked tentatively. 

He snapped out of his haze, eyes flitting over to you and immediately falling to your legs. "Did you not get the trousers?" 

"I got them."

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, he swallowed and looked down. "I was just wondering about something." 

"What?" 

"I was wondering what was going through your mind when you knelt in front of me at mass."

Your lips were parted but you didn't speak, watching his fingers on the arm of the couch, gripping and releasing in a steady rhythm.

"I just wanted you to look at me," you replied, almost whispering. "You weren't looking at me and I couldn't stand it." 

He nodded, pausing in thought. "I really tried that day. To nip it in the bud." He chuckled. "How fucking stupid of me, thinking I could just avert my eyes, quote a few passages from the bible and this would all go away." 

"I didn't mean to make you-"

"You have a boyfriend-"

"Had."

"And you would complain about him to me; how neglectful he was, how shit he was in bed. But instead of giving you guidance or counsel like I'm supposed to, I- I just found myself wanting to-" He stopped himself, reining in the fury that was beginning to build in his voice. 

"Wanting to...?" 

He looked at you. "Do you know what was going through my mind that day at mass? I was angry. Partly because you shouldn't have been up there, you were making a mockery out of the practice just to get a rise out of me and I was furious with you for it." He paused. "But mostly, I was angry because I knew I'd never be able to stop picturing you on your knees." 

A sudden wave crashed through you, flooding the depths of your core with a tingling heat. He seemed to notice, eyes darting between your face and your body, how you'd crossed your legs at the ankle, bare thighs squeezing together.

"Why couldn't you have just... Stayed away?" he whispered.

"Ouch," you replied plainly. 

There was a long, intense silence, the white noise of rain beating against the window. 

"Is that what you want?" you asked. "For me to stay away?" 

"It's not what I want, but I think it's what I need," he replied. "I'm a shit priest-"

"No you're not." 

"I am. You know why? Because I don't resist, I run." He looked around the living room. "But I can't exactly do that here." 

You shrugged gently, pressing your lips together. "I didn't come here to make things difficult for you." 

"No, you came because you want direction. You want to believe that if you trust in the divine and go where it seems to lead you, you'll be rewarded for your obedience." 

You swallowed, trying to keep your breath steady despite the throbbing between your legs, the flutters in your stomach. 

He sighed and uncrossed his legs. "Come here." 

You did as you were told, ignoring the slight pain in your foot as you made your way across the room. You stopped in front of him, your mind a cloud of confusion and anticipation as you waited for your next instruction.

"Tell me what you thought was going to happen when you decided to come here tonight," he said.

"I don't know. I was just- I was on autopilot-"

"Thou shalt not bear false witness."

You rolled your eyes and blew out an exasperated breath. "I wanted to see you," you said simply. "I felt so guilty about what happened in the church. Then a couple of hours later I walked in on my boyfriend cheating on me and I thought, fuck it." 

"So you're here out of retaliation." 

Your brows came together, the offence clear on your face. You leaned in slightly towards him, speaking clearly, sternly and without shame. "I'm here because every time he fucks me, I imagine it's you." 

He already knew that to be true. But hearing it from you directly, so certain and unabashed, made him shift in his seat. His face was calm, but you knew where to look for the truth; it was in his knuckles, how they'd turned white as they gripped the arm of the couch, the muscle pulsing in his jaw, the bobbing of his throat as he swallowed. 

Your eyes were locked on each other, the familiar heat rising between you. He made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh. 

"This is going to happen, isn't it," he said defeatedly.

"I think it is."

He reached out slowly, hands making contact with the cold flesh of your legs. His touch was searing, pulling you gently towards him. You moved forward, straddling him with your thighs and sitting on his lap, hands snaking over his shoulders as his fingers gripped your hips. 

His clothes were still wet, making you shiver as they dampened the front of your jumper, soaking into the gusset of the boxers. You leaned into him, chest pressing against chest, your fingers finding their way into the back of his hair. 

You pulled his head back slightly, allowing you to lean forward and kiss him. You'd never been one to take charge, much preferring to be handled, guided, but in this moment you knew that if you ever wanted to bask in the flood, you had to be the one to break the dam. 

He growled softly against your lips. "I'm going to hell," he mumbled. 

"I'll probably see you there."

Part 8

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[aiwokure]

Day 1 - Baking

Nico Robin x F!Reader, F!Reader & Sanji

Desc: [y/n] attempts to bake a “Sorry for trying to kill you cake” for Robin with the help of resident Loverboy Sanji - shenanigans ensue.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Possibly OOC Sanji, Attempts at Humor, Sanji is very passionate about his job, slight Perv!Sanji

continuation of this - [click here]

banner by @/cafekitsune

This is so stupid… [y/n] sighs after checking for the umpteenth time that Robin and Nami were asleep before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen. The hallways were dimly lit and the ship rocked gently with the waves, as if to soothe her racing thoughts. When she arrived at the galley, the (now retired) mercenary couldn’t help but to raise an eyebrow at the excessive amount of locks on the fridge and pantry. “Well, so much for that I guess.” [y/n] mumbles to herself, preparing to exit.

The (h/c) woman didn’t even turn around fully before Sanji bursts into the kitchen. His leg was raised with smoke coming off the bottom of his shoes, eyes promising death. “I told you that if I catch you in here again I’d-!” A moment of silence was shared between the two, [y/n]’s was bewildered confusion, and Sanji’s was utter humiliation. Red slowly crept up his neck all the way to his hairline as he quickly put his leg down and motioned towards her.

Every step the blond took forward, [y/n] took two back. “Is threatening medical patients a common thing here or did I miss some memo?” Sanji tugs on the roots of his hair in distress, a garbled noise sneaking past his throat. Upon realizing how foolish he looked from physically displaying his mental state, the chef straightens himself out by fixing his hair and clearing his throat. He then, in a much more composed tone, responds.

“My sincerest apologies m’lady, there’s been a certain pest,” Sanji’s ire was clear as day, his jaw slightly clenched at the mere memory of Luffy attempting to squeeze past the chains, “that loves to pillage through the pantry at night.” [y/n] hums, mildly intrigued but not enough to ask for more details. “How fortunate for you that I’m no pirate then, hm? I do need these unlocked though.” She nods to the locked pantry and fridge.

“Oh! If you’re hungry I can whip you up something, anything that you want! I can’t allow such a beautiful woman like yourself to do labor. Even more so with your injuries.” Sanji moves swiftly, beginning hygienic preparations so he can cook. [y/n] flusters faintly at his eagerness, but even more so at telling him her true intentions.

It was already strange having the crew be so accommodating and kind to her despite her attempt on Robin’s life.

“No, uh, I’m not hungry, thank you.” The blond stills, turning in disarray. There was a secondary moment of silence, [y/n] growing more awkward at watching Sanji try to figure out why she was in the galley. “So...is there anything that I can help you with?” Fiddling with the edge of the counter, [y/n] finally confesses. “I, um, wanted to bake a cake. For Robin. An apology cake for the whole ‘gonna kill you’ thing.”

Sanji’s expression grows comically serious, a hand on his chin as he nods in understanding. “Fear not, [y/n]-san, I’ll be your culinary knight and create a cake that not only apologizes but also conveys the feelings of your heart!” He gestures with flourish, spinning around the kitchen with such fervor while unlocking the chains. “How...lovely.” [y/n] began to regret her decision once she saw smokey hearts floating around the kitchen.

“Have you thought of the design? Maybe something floral? How about multi-tiered? Maybe it should be blue like her eyes.” The more the blond swooned, the more agitated [y/n] felt herself get. "Let's keep it simple, chef. A classic round cake with a neat frosting layer. Nothing too flashy; just a straightforward apology cake."

Sanji hummed with consideration, “Sorry, I’d nearly forgotten it was for that. Keeping it simple. As for you, mon cher, take a seat and watch the magic happen. I work better with a lady audience.” He ushers the [h/c] woman out of the cooking area, much to her displeasure. [y/n] tried to vocalize as such until Sanji – as kindly as possible – reminded her of her injury and how “baking takes a lot of wrist work” along with other excuses.

Watching the chef work efficiently and silently turned out to be quite soothing for the ex-mercenary. His little songs that he would hum and the various shapes his smoke would make was entertaining enough to keep [y/n]’s mind off of Robin’s potential reaction to the cake. “So, you knew Robin when you guys were younger huh? What was that like?” Sanji tentatively breaks the silence after placing the cake in the oven.

He offers the batter bowl as payment for [y/n]’s thoughts, which she took. “I don’t remember all the finer details, but she was definitely a little brat. And she wasn’t nearly as good at disguising herself as she is now – which honestly still isn’t that much better. We explored a lot, experienced lots of different cultures. When we were together, I felt like there wasn’t anything that we couldn’t do. I guess that’s why I was so angry at what she did. And to see that she had moved on only infuriated me more.” “It was as if she didn’t trust me to keep her safe, despite everything that I’ve done…” [y/n] thinks back briefly on the bounty hunter and other unfortunate victims that she came across during her journey with Robin. “Sorry if you were expecting a lighthearted story, but ours ended far from sweet.” Sanji shrugs a shoulder in a carefree manner. “We all have are stories, I understand. Hows the batter?” [y/n] gives a small smirk which gets the blond’s heart racing. “Delicious. This will definitely, what did you say again, ‘convey the feelings of your heart’?”

The chef grows further enamored, having been blessed with seeing parts of [y/n]’s personality sneak out. “I’m, uh, gonna go check on the cake. I-It’s probably done by now!” Legs growing weak at the sight of fluttery [e/c] eyes, and nose tingling with the threat of blood, Sanji wills himself to keep it under control.

(In the very deep crevice of his mind, he couldn’t help but to imagine what it would be like to be sandwiched between both Robin and [y/n]. A perv is a perv after all.)

The following morning [y/n] was so fidgety even Luffy can sense it. She couldn’t figure out how to present the cake. Or how to bring up the apology at all, honestly. Robin had seemed so content with just being in her space again that she hesitates to bring up something so heavy. But Sanji keep looking at the [h/c] woman expectantly, brow raised in curiosity.

Chopper became concerned, convinced that [y/n] was still in discomfort from her injuries and was trying to play nonchalant. He offered pain medication, which she refused, to which he responded by placing her on bed rest. Robin chuckled faintly at the exchange, averting her gaze from the scathing [e/c] glare. Dammit, if I’m stuck in bed all day, I’ll never be able to give her the cake… “Doctor, I feel fine, I was just a little in my head about something.” [y/n] attempted to bargain with the reindeer, who briefly stopped to hear her out.

“About what?” “About this!” Sanji exits the kitchen dramatically, cake in hand as he spins around towards the table Robin is sitting at. “For you, mademoiselle.” He gently places the cake down before her with a professional bow. “Hm? ‘Sorry I tried to kill you, that was very immature of me. - [y/n]’ It even has a little drawing, how cute.” Robin’s blue eyes were glowing with amusement, watching her old friend screech in horror.

“I wasn’t ready you damn chef! And why in hell’s name is there a drawing?! I thought we agreed on simple!” Sanji tuts in disapproval, "Ah, [y/n]-san, a simple cake may convey the message, but a grand cake will etch it into her heart forever. I didn’t just make a cake; I crafted a masterpiece that reflected the depth of your feelings." The ex-mercenary could feel the heat rolling off of her face in waves, her jaw was clenched so tight they nearly creaked from the pressure.

Robin coos at [y/n]’s extremely obvious embarrassment, a teasing smile on her lips. “You didn’t have to do all of this, but I do appreciate the gesture, even if it came at your own detriment.” [y/n] eyes the archaeologist hesitantly, as if she doubted Robin’s words. Surely life endangerment isn’t something that should be forgiven so easily, correct? Surely she should have done more than ask for a damn cake to be made, something like swearing to servitude for the rest of her life.

I guess that shows how much she really does like me, huh? Idiot... [y/n] nearly choked on her spit at the realization, a hand shooting up to cover her face which blatantly advertised her thoughts. Steam puffed off the top of her head in the shape of the same foolish hearts that Sanji made the night prior. “I-I’m glad.”

#one piece x reader #nico robin x reader #op x reader #december writing challenge 2023