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janeyseymour · 27 days

Note

Love Thy Neighbor one shot where ellie calls mel mom for the first time in front of all the abbott family, maybe she gets sick at school and calls for her mom and when reader and mel show up she refuses to got with reader and they realize it’s mel she’s talking about

bestie. i got you.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Title Change

WC: ~2.65k

Every year, right around the holidays, Ellie gets sick with whatever is running rampant through the school. And every year, you absolutely dread that time. It could be just the stereotypical, run of the mill fever, but it could also be the flu, a stomach bug, strep throat, pneumonia, pink eye… the worst was right before you moved out of Utah and she ended up with croup and in the hospital overnight. You’re pretty sure you’ll never be able to get the images or sounds from that experience out of your head. Seeing your little girl down for the count is so hard for you, and it doesn’t get any easier as she gets older- she’s still the same little love bug that you remember fussing over when her temperature ran a bit too high for your liking and she would fall asleep at a moment’s notice on your chest.

This year, she gets sick without fail, although you hate to admit that neither you nor your girlfriend had picked up on it when you brought her with you to school today. Her cheeks were a bit rosy this morning as you walked into Abbott, yes- but this December has been particularly cold so far and she had insisted on running around in her t-shirt and shorts this morning despite the fact that the living room was a crisp 65 degrees this morning when you woke up. And then on top of that, you were running a bit late and didn’t get your usual parking spot close to the front of the school.

Your little girl had been adamant that she stay attached to Melissa’s hip while the three of you sat in the staff lounge before everyone else comes in, which is not an uncommon occurrence. It’s warm and peaceful until Janine comes in with cookies for her students, and inevitably one for your daughter. Ellie begs you to let her have it, and you chuckle before relenting. It turns out that was the last think she needs because she’s running circles around the shorter second grade teacher within five minutes. Thankfully though, the time comes where the child high on sugar is no longer you’re problem- she’s now her teachers problem. The two of you walk her down to her first grade classroom before the rest of the kiddos trickle in.

“Be a good girl today, little miss,” you crouch down and open your arms.

Ellie’s arms are around your neck and squeezing you tight. “I always am, Momma.”

“I know, but I’m just reminding you,” you chuckle as you kiss her forehead. It’s a bit warm, but nothing that is too alarming. You release her, and it’s your girlfriend’s turn.

“Love you, kiddo,” Melissa embraces your daughter.

“I love you too,” the seven year old sighs as she rests her head on the second grade teacher’s shoulder for a few seconds. And then she’s bouncing into her classroom and greeting her teacher with the gusto that only a little girl who had a cookie at seven in the morning could have. You and the redhead chuckle as you watch before you loop an arm around your girlfriend and walk down to your little corner of the hallway.

“Did she feel a little warm to you?” Melissa asks you quietly.

You shrug. “A little, but she was also running circles around Janine not five minutes ago.”

“I guess,” she says softly. “I just know you said she always gets sick right before the holidays, and with everything going around…”

“God,” you groan. “I’ve had five kids out at the minimum everyday this week. I’m praying to God Ellie doesn’t get sick for break.”

“Knock on wood,” Melissa sighs as she knocks against her door. “But if she does get sick, we’ll be here for her.”

“Until I get sick with it too because she insists on laying on me,” you quip quietly.

The redhead kisses your temple. “And I’ll be here to take care of you.”

“It’s still insane to me that you haven’t been sick in over ten years.”

“It’s one of the few benefits I get for being in this germ breeding ground for so long,” Melissa chuckles.

Your kiddos come in and start on their morning work, and all is fine and normal until your classroom phone starts to ring. That’s unusual. Nobody ever uses the classroom phones because your crew will just call or text your personal phone, or they’ll just make the trip down to your end of the hallway. Honestly, the only people who really use the classroom phones are… the nurses.

“Hello?” you answer, and you pray to God it’s the nurse calling about the student that you had just sent down to the nurse’s office five minutes ago. But June comes walking back into the classroom right on time to confirm that this phone call isn’t about her.

“Hey.” It’s Ellie’s teacher.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to call and ask if Ellie was feeling okay when you brought her into school today?”

You exhale a heavy breath. “She was running around the apartment this morning singing Frozen and ran circles around Janine in the lounge this morning, so I would say so. Why?”

“Poor thing’s been shivering at her desk for the last twenty minutes while we’ve been doing word work,” your coworker says quietly. “I asked her if she had a sweater with her, but she said she left it with you.”

“Send her down,” you tell the woman.

“Will do,” the first grade teacher nods into the phone. “Thanks.”

Ellie appears in your doorway a few minutes later. Your third graders immediately start cooing over how adorable she is.

“Hey, baby girl,” you smile at her from your place at the front of the room. “Come to get your sweater?”

She nods before coughing a bit. You frown a bit, the lines in your forehead etching their way into your face. You tell your students to work through the next math problem while you attend to your little girl.

As you help her pull on her sweater, you whisper to her, “You feeling okay?” You press your hand against her forehead, and then her cheeks, and then her neck. She does feel warmer than she had earlier this morning.

“Jus’ cold,” Ellie mumbles.

“Okay, baby,” you sigh softly. “Well, you tell your teacher if you aren’t feeling well, and I can always take you home, yeah?”

“I’ll be okay, Momma,” your daughter tells you. “I’m tough like… like Mel.”

You chuckle a bit before kissing her head. “Okay, sweetness. But still, if you aren’t feeling well, that’s okay.”

“M’kay, Momma,” you little girl sighs as she holds her arms out to hug you. “I love you.”

“I love you too, little one,” you whisper as you kiss her still somewhat chubby cheek. “Head on back to class, and I’ll see you at the end of the school day, okay?”

She scampers out of the room, happy to have that extra layer on. Ellie really is going back to her classroom, but as she passes Melissa’s door, she can’t help but stop in the open doorway.

Your girlfriend raises her brows at the sight of your little girl. “Hey, El. What’s going on?”

“I had to get my sweater from Momma, but then I was passing your room and I wanted to say hi,” Ellie smiles bashfully from the door. “Can I come in and give you a hug?”

“One quick one,” the redhead sighs dramatically as she opens her eyes wide. Your daughter knows she isn’t one bit annoyed with the big grin that your girlfriend is wearing. “But then you have to get back to your room.”

“I know,” the first grader says as she runs into the room and into Melissa’s arms. “Quick snuggle, and then back to Miss Smith.”

“Right. Good girl,” Melissa praises your daughter before releasing her from the hug. “I’ll see you at the end of the day, okay?”

Ellie hums her response before stretching on her toes and kissing the second grade teacher’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you too, El.”

“I know!” your little girl grins as she skips out of the room and heads back for her own classroom.

By the time lunch rolls around, you still haven’t heard anything from your daughter’s first grade teacher or the nurses, so you assume that Ellie really is just toughing it out until you all get home for the night.

“Hey,” you greet your girlfriend sitting her place with a kiss to the temple. “How’s your day going so far?”

“I had a little visitor today,” Melissa chuckles. “Oh?”

“Ellie came in wanting a hug after she got her sweater from you,” your girlfriend smiles. “She’s lucky she’s cute.”

“Did she feel warm to you?” you ask her the same question she asked you this morning.

“I asked you that this morning,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “But yes, why?”

“Smith called asking if El was feeling well while I was teaching math and told me that she was shivering for the entirety of their word work time.”

“Poor thing’s probably getting sick,” the redhead sighs as she brings a forkful up to her mouth.

You hang your head. “Great.”

“At least it isn’t during break that she’s going to be sick,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

You nod. “I guess, but I hate seeing her like-”

“I want Mommy!” you can hear your little girl before you can see her. You raise a brow at that though- she never calls you ‘Mommy’. You’ve always been ‘Momma’, from the time that she was born. The staff room door whips open, and there is a wailing Ellie with snot running down her face as she clings to her first grade teacher’s hand. “I want Mommy!”

“Y/N, I��m so-” Miss Smith tries to get out.

You shake your head, refusing her apology- you know how your daughter can get when she’s not feeling well, and it’s quite clear to you now that Ellie is under the weather. You rush over to her and crouch down in front of her.

Melissa raises her brow, and she contemplates making her way over. But you’re always so good with your daughter, and you she figures that you have this one handled.

The rest of the Abbott crew makes their way in, sidestepping around you to get to their own spots. But of course, Ava stops in her tracks.

“Why’s your kid so snotty?”

“Ava,” you scold.

The principal shrugs and bypasses you to get to the coffee machine.

“I want Mommy!” Ellie continues to wail.

You open your arms for your sick little girl to fall into. “Momma’s right here, baby. I’m right here.”

“I want Mommy!” the child refuses and goes so far as to stomp her foot in frustration. That action is not something you would usually condone, but you let it slide just this one time. God, is she so sick she’s delirious and doesn’t realize that you’re right in front of her?

“Sweetheart, I’m right here,” you whisper and you reach out a hand to brush away a few of the hairs that are in her face. You pull your sleeve over your hand and wipe the snot away from her face. “Momma’s right here.”

“I want Mommy!” Ellie shrieks again as the tears pour down her face.

You run a hand over your face before pulling her into your arms. You lift her onto your hip and hold her as she cries, offering the rest of the staff an apologetic look for the commotion your daughter is causing.

“Mommy’s here, baby,” you sigh softly. You take your seat back next to your girlfriend as you try to soothe your daughter enough to be able to take her through the halls to gather her things to head home for the day.

Melissa reaches a hand over and starts rubbing circles on Ellie’s back in hopes of helping to calm her down. At her touch, your little girl’s head pops up from its place on your shoulder, and she immediately reaches for the redhead.

Your girlfriend pulls Ellie into her lap and holds her, rocking her gently.

“Mommy,” the little girl whimpers as her cries and wails turn into soft sniffles.

Everyone’s eyes in the room, including your own, go wide. Melissa’s jaw drops, and she looks to you.

“What was that, baby?” you ask softly.

“I telled you and Miss Smith that I wanted Mommy,” Ellie mumbles as your girlfriend’s warm touch and gentle rocking starts to lull her to sleep. She starts to lazily play with the red curls that are within her reach as her eyes flutter shut. She’s snoring softly against Melissa’s shoulder within minutes.

The silence that has washed over the staff lounge at Ellie’s words is finally broken when the redhead asks softly, “Did she- did she call me ‘Mommy’? Am I ‘Mommy’?”

“I think she did,” Barbara smiles from her place.

“Wow,” Melissa whispers as she looks down at the little girl in her lap. “Wow.”

You also whisper your shock and surprise.

Those green eyes that you’ve fallen in love with look into yours seriously. “Are you- how do you feel about that?”

“Honestly?” you ask quietly.

She nods.

You smile softly, a bit sadly. “I wish it didn’t take her being ridiculously sick for her to call you that… but it feels so right.”

The second grade teacher takes one hand off of Ellie’s back to take your own. She squeezes it gently with tears in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she chuckles as she wipes at her eyes. “I didn’t think I would get so emotional over this.”

You chuckle softly, as does Barbara.

“Well,” the kindergarten teacher looks to the two of you expectantly. “Little Ellie needs her Mommy and her Momma to take her home and look after her.”

You glance to your girlfriend, and she nods without hesitation.

“Even if Ava and Mr. J are our subs?” you double check.

“El needs us,” Melissa tells you firmly. “I don’t care who is with our kids as long as we’re with Ellie.”

“I’ll get everything together if you want to stay here with her?” you ask.

She nods. “You know where my sub plans are?”

“Of course I do,” you laugh softly as you stand. “Just give me like fifteen minutes, and then we can head out.”

When you return back to the staff lounge, Melissa is still holding your little girl close to her heart and humming softly while glaring at everyone else, daring them to make noise and wake the Ellie.

“Hey,” you lug your bags, your girlfriend’s bags, and your little girl’s backpack in as quietly as you can. “We’re good to go.”

She stands from her place, still managing to keep Ellie asleep on her. You’re both able to get her in the car and back into the apartment while she naps, and once the little girl is settled on the couch and still asleep, you take Melissa into the kitchen. You wrap your arms around her neck and look her in the eyes.

“I love you,” you whisper as you press your foreheads together.

“I love you too,” she tells you quietly. “And El.”

“You’re so good with her,” you tell Melissa softly. “So good.”

She hums before kissing you gently.

“How do you feel about being ‘Mommy’?” you ask your girlfriend.

Your girlfriend’s eyes well with tears again. “Like I’m on top of the world… that little girl of yours… wow.”

“That little girl of ours,” you correct her. “Ours.”

As if Ellie knows the two of you are talking about her, she whines out from her place on the couch. “Mommy! Momma!”

Motherhood never stops, and the two of you head into the living room to hold your daughter together.

TAGS (and lmk if you wanna be added!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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peachdues · 8 months

Note

Heyy, so I was wondering if you could do the "I'm gonna fuck all memory of him out of your head" nsfw for Sanemi? ty and have a great day lovely 🥰

ONLY YOU

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA (NSFW)

PEACH'S 2.K MILESTONE EVENT

CW: explicit sexual content • MDNI • FWB (maybe toxic?? Idk) • titty slapping • slightly mean Sanemi • creampies • mentions of toxic cheating ex-bf • getting folded in half like a lawn chair • I think I blacked out while writing this • not proofread in the slightest

“I told you when we started this not to expect anything from me,” you were surprised at the way your voice remained calm and steady, even though internally, you felt anything but. “You’ve no right to get jealous over me going to see him.”

Him being your ex-boyfriend, whose apartment you’d just left after spending the night. You knew it was a mistake; you’d known it the second you let the asshole lay you down on his couch and felt the hard press of his cock against your upper thigh as he kissed you with those lips that were so warm and familiar.

Your intentions had been pure when you’d gone over there to collect the last few of your belongings that neither of you had realized he’d still had until a good three months after your breakup. But then he’d offered you a glass of wine, and the two of you sat on his soft, plush sofa — the sofa that used to be yours, just like that apartment; just like him — and got to reminiscing about old times. And then he’d looked at you with those eyes, so sad and so full of regret at the way he’d thrown a three-year long relationship out the window like garbage for the sake of some one-night stand on a work trip with a woman whose name he couldn’t even remember, and you’d caved.

Because really, it felt nice to pretend like nothing had changed, and that he would rock your world and then order Chinese food so the two of you could cuddle and watch some dumb movie while you ate; just like old times.

But everything had changed, and that apparently included your post-sex ritual of takeout and TV, because the moment he’d finished spurting his pleasure onto the curve of your ass, he’d tossed you your discarded shirt and said he’d see you around.

You tried to pretend like the fact he’d used you for a quick fuck hadn’t stung, but you’d walked out of your old apartment still feeling a little bruised.

But you sure as fuck weren’t about to let the quietly fuming, white haired, abrasive, jackass standing in your new living room make you feel worse than you already did; no chance in hell.

Said jackass was really your long-time friend, Sanemi, who, for the past three months, had been at your disposal as you sought to satisfy your urge to be fucked absolutely senseless on a regular basis. The two of you had been friends since college, and had spent the better part of your adulthood ignoring the sexual tension which mounted between you the more time you spent together, huddled away in the dingy corners of your university’s library to study, or late night dining hall runs when neither of you could sleep.

You’d kept in touch for a time, even after you started dating your ex, but admittedly, you hadn’t been the most exemplary friend to the hothead with the heart of gold.

But then, you’d found yourself single and alone in a brand new apartment with nothing but a pile of moving boxes full of memories youndidnt want to revisit and a mattress on the floor. So instead of unpacking, you choose to reach for your phone to shoot a text to your old college friend.

Sanemi agreed to meet up for coffee within minutes of you messaging him. Within a matter of hours, you found yourself back at your new home, face pressed down into your mattress and your ass in the air as you let yourself forget that there was a world beyond the feeling of Sanemi’s cock ramming into your desperate, sopping core.

Only after you’d been thoroughly filled by his cock and cum were you able to form a coherent thought, and so, you’d propositioned him with an offer for a friends with benefits situation — on the sole condition that no one caught feelings.

Sanemi hadn’t hesitated in agreeing, sealing the deal with a rough yet intoxicating kiss as he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders and took you again until you passed out from exhaustion.

Things had been running smoothly, with both of you holding up your end of the bargain — until a few weeks ago, when you’d casually mentioned that you were texting your ex again and Sanemi’s mood had soured considerably.

Not that his apparent jealousy had tempered him when it came time to reduce you to a sobbing, trembling mess beneath him — if anything, he seemed more committed to blowing your mind and back each time the two of you met up.

But you’d blown him off in favor of going to your ex’s only to end up leaving feeling emptier than ever. Only now, you somehow felt lower because beneath the judgmental irritation in his pretty, lavender eyes, Sanemi looked hurt.

“I don’t,” he said tightly, his arms folded tightly across his chest, those mouthwatering biceps rippling slightly. “I just don’t like getting ghosted without so much as a courtesy text.”

You winced, realizing that, in your haste to see your ex, you’d indeed forgotten to tell Sanemi not to bother stopping by. But you were feeling vulnerable and truthfully, you just wanted him to stop looking at you like a kicked puppy. Because, though it pained you to admit it, it broke your heart a little.

Perhaps Sanemi wasn’t the only one who was catching feelings.

But you weren’t about to admit any of that, and so you only mirrored his stance, crossing your arms and jutting your hip out, cocking your head at him. “Oh yeah? Then you won’t mind if your services aren’t needed tonight?” Guilt settled heavy in your gut like a stone as Sanemi deflated slightly at your jab.

That guilt wasn’t enough for you to resist taunting him a bit. “Because I’ve had all about I can handle for the day,”

Sanemi took the bait.

“I find that hard to believe,” he scoffed, his eyes running sensually over you as you stood there, defiantly glaring at him. “‘Cuz you’re not satisfied until you’re damn near passed out,”

He sauntered over to you until the heat rippling off his body threatened to burn you, too. A jolt of electricity shot down your spine as he leaned in close, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, “And babydoll, you’re still standing.”

Without warning, Sanemi’s arm shot out and wound around your waist, hauling you flush against him, your noses nearly bumping together. Your eyes fluttered shut at the gentle caress of his warm breath against your lips, awaiting one of his needy, bruising kisses of which you often found yourself daydreaming about.

But a kiss did not come; rather, Sanemi only spoke a promise that sent chills rippling over your skin and unleashed a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

“I’m going to fuck all memory of him right outta your pretty little head.”

Unsurprisingly, Sanemi made good on his word; for not twenty minutes later, you found yourself draped over the back of your sofa, the silvery-blonde fucking you so deeply, you weren’t sure you even remembered your own name, even if you somehow still knew his.

The edge of your couch dug uncomfortably into the small of your back, and idly you wondered whether the force with which Sanemi was pounding into you would cause your spine to snap clean in half. If it did, you probably wouldn’t care; not when Sanemi had one of your legs lay flush against his torso, and the other wrapped tightly around his hips to desperately clinging on for dear life as his cock bullied in and out of your dripping cunt.

A warm, calloused hand teasingly traced up your stomach until it came to your breast, squeezing harshly as Sanemi savored how it jiggled beneath his palm with every bruising thrust of his hips against yours. Your eyes rolled back as Sanemi slapped the plush mound lightly around your nipple, a breathy moan falling from your lips as your walls clenched tighter around him.

“Fuck baby, you like that?” Sanemi’s gravelly voice called you back down to earth as his hand repeated the action on your other tit, a whine tearing from your throat. He chuckled at the way your cunt grew sloppier with every repeated smack against your chest. “Naughty girl.”

Sanemi’s lips latched around your stiffened nipple as his hand rose to pinch and roll the other between his fingers, the pace of his hips never faltering. “Tell me — fuck — sweetheart,” he ground out against your skin. “Did he make your pussy this fucking sloppy?”

As though to emphasize his point, Sanemi swiveled his hips harshly against yours, repeating the move over and over until your living room was filled with nothing but the sounds of your whimpers and the lewd squelching of your cunt.

“N-no,” you managed to stammer out, fingers digging harshly into his hair as Sanemi’s mouth sloppily danced to the valley between your breasts. He seemed please with this answer, as his other hand worked between your sweat-slicked bodies to work furiously at your clit.

“That’s right,” he growled. Sanemi pulled off you in favor of standing up, his cock reaching a spot even deeper within you as his thrusts grew sloppy. His grunts began to be tempered by a slight whine as he drew closer and closer to his climax, his thumb rubbing steady circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs.

With a slight graze of his nail against your clit, you came apart around him with a scream, back arching impossibly higher as you howled his name. Sanemi rode you through the waves of your pleasure, the heavy smack of his balls against the underside of your ass guiding you back down to reality as you realized you still weren’t satisfied — you wouldn’t be, not until you felt him spill inside you only for him to fuck his seed right back into you.

“Sanemi,” you whined, your hands grabbing blindly for him, desperate to bring him closer.

Sanemi chuckled under his breath. “I know what you need, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you.”

His hands were surprisingly gentle as it lowered the leg you had hooked over his shoulder and unlatched the other from around his waist. He tugged you forward slightly over the edge of the couch, bending your legs at the knees and pressing them back against your sides.

He was buried deep within you now, the new angle allowing the blunt tip of his cock to press against that one spot that made your toes curl, again and again. As your whimpers devolved into cries of overstimulated pleasure, Sanemi leaned down close to your face, his lips teasingly grazing yours as his pace quickened.

“And did you let him cum in your sweet little pussy, baby?” The look in his eyes almost would have been cruel, but it was undercut by the faintest trace of insecurity. “Do I have to fuck that out of you, too?”

But you were so lost in the post-orgasm haze that you did not answer; at least, not until Sanemi slowed the relentless pistoning of his cock into your spent cunt, and the resulting friction became intolerable.

“I asked you a question, princess.” Sanemi said mockingly, ducking his head to graze your throat with his lips, before giving a mighty thrust of his hips, as you cried out. “Answer me. Did he cum in you?”

“N-no!” Your answer was choked off with a hitched gasp as Sanemi resumed his previous pace, intent on reaching his end and giving you what you both wanted — your cunt, stuffed to the brim with him.

“Only you, Sanemi,” you blubbered, tears of pleasure and pain gathering in your eyes as your arms tightened around his shoulders, clinging onto him like he was salvation’s incarnate. “Only you get to cum in this pussy!”

Sanemi’s groans turned to low growls as his hips snapped against yours, the coil in his gut tightening as you continued to babble, only you only you only you only -

#🍑’s 2k milestone event #demon slayer #sanemi shinazugawa #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kny smut #demon slayer smut #hashira au #hashira fic #kny fic #demon slayer fic

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cupiddivinearrow · 4 months

Text

What Should You Focus on in the Year of the Dragon?

According to Chinese Astrology, 2024 is the Year of the 🐉 Dragon 🐉!!! Meaning, this year is all about growth and development. This year is all about focusing on what will bring you happiness! What will bring you closer to your dreams. So, with that said…

Close your eyes and take a breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Keep doing this until all the tension leaves your body. Then, ask yourself the question of what you should focus on this year. Once you feel ready, open your eyes and allow yourself to be pulled to your card by your energy (it’s the one that you can’t stop going towards or looking at).

Pile 1

PILE 1

Your Card

Wisdom

Key Identifiers:

• Blue, White, and Gold may hold a significance

• Intuitive, Spiritually Awareness

• Purity, Innocence, Peace

• Communication

• Happiness after some difficulties

• Balance

• Harmony

• Possibly a LP 2

• Sagittarius, Libra, & Virgo Energies

If you’re feeling drawn to 2, you might want to give that a look-see too 😅🥰

May see the numbers: 222 and 444 a lot

This group may be the High Priestesses of this reading. You may focus on the future a lot, or read tarot cards or get help through tarot readings often.

I kind of get the feeling that this pile is having a lot of things come to light from the past, which is bringing you closer to peace and harmony, if you’re not in that energy yet.

I’m getting that maybe this group will be focusing on learning to look deeper within to figure out solutions to difficult situations or concerns that may look strange or confusing at first.

Pile 1, maybe you should consider taking some time out for self. So you can learn yourself better and get a healthier mindset to tackle any issues that come your way. You can’t close your eyes to the things you don’t want to deal with from your past, it’d only cause more confusion and delays for you in the long run. It’s time to figure out who and what you want and put forth the effort to change what you didn’t like from the past.

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

PILE 2

Your Card

Adversity

Key Identifiers:

• Material possessions, Earthly things

• Grounding

• Confusion

• Communication

• Masculine Energy

• Healing

• Secrets/ Lies coming to Light

• Possibly a LP 7

• Growth

• Water signs (esp. Cancer), Capricorn, Virgo energy

• Moving On, Change

• Colors of Significance: Green and Blue, Brown

• Healers, Teachers, & Spiritual Gurus

Pile 2, y’all are giving me… Chariot energy. Have y’all been feeling confused about life or about a certain situation, people, place, or thing? Are you feeling an urgent pull to move forwards on your journey but may be having some fears or anxiety?

Y’all may be going through a lot of changes this year. Things may come to light (secrets and/or lies) and you may feel the need to cut some people off this year. I feel that your ultimate goal this year would be growing and find balance within one’s life.

This pile may be focusing on security this year and on healing from addictions or unhealthy past ways or people that block us from opening oneself up to new experiences and connections. This pile will be focusing on cutting off things and people that do not serve you, and/or maybe some of you have already started this process. If so, congratulations. You’re already doing what you need to do to move forward in life. Keep it up!

Also, one last tidbit, I feel like y’all will be working on healing the heart chakra and abundance. This pile may have some money coming in. So stay focused and keep growing!

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

PILE 3

Your Card

The Firmament

Key Identifiers:

• Colors of Significance: Blue, Purple, Black, & White

• Purity, Innocence, Truth, Clarity

• Communication

• Intuitive, Enlightened

• Epiphanies, Sudden Realizations; etc

• Recognition, Star Energy

• Aquarius, Uranus, Scorpio, Moon energy

• Creative

• Manifesting

• Impulsiveness/ Eager

• Strong faith/ Spirituality

May be seeing 9s (999) and 3s (333)

Pile 3, the energy for this pile!!! I’m loving it! This pile is giving me Star energy, which is also Aquarius energy. This pile is full of hope and faith. I feel that y’all are pretty balanced in your spirituality and the materialistic world. Or at least, that’s what you’re gonna be focusing on this year.

I can see that maybe some of you in this pile may have had a hard time getting motivated or staying inspired. Maybe some of you were frustrated in the past, and it caused you to feel stagnant or creatively blocked? Well, this year, that’s gonna change.

This pile will be focusing on expanding their mindset to a more hopeful one. You will be coming to the realization that “The World Is Your Oyster.” You can do whatever you put your mind to. You may feel or see that you have many opportunities available to you or coming to you. The goal for this pile is to work on staying hopeful while finding and keeping the balance between the spiritual and material world. Pile 3, you will be setting yourself free of limiting mindsets so you can truly be free. And who knows, maybe keeping the hope/faith will help manifest a wish that you’ve been looking forward to.

🕊️ Blessings 🕊️

Discord Server:

🕊️🥰 I offer tarot/ oracle/ fortune telling readings and reiki healings, aura cleansing, and energy shields for those that are interested 🥰 I hope to be able to offer more than just those services soon, such as rune readings, planetary seals, herbs, rituals, etc. Bless! 🫶🏽🕊️

Shop Website coming soon 🥰

#tarot reading #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #spiritual #tarot #intuitive readings #pick a photo #discord server #spirtuality #free tarot readings #tarotcommunity #Cupid’s Divine Arrow #CDA #blessed

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scoobydoodean · 5 months

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Okay so in 1.03 Dead In The Water, there's this exchange Sam and Dean have at one point in regards to Lucas—the little boy who watched his dad drown, who Dean connects with during the episode:

DEAN Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died. SAM There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies. DEAN Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.

And the last time I watched this episode, I went "Oh cool! A little Psychic!Sam Easter Egg." Right? Sam goes through the traumatic experience of losing Jess, and he's tapped into "whatever's out there" (the yellow eyed demon) and he's having premonitions about what he's going to do next. Which definitely makes a lot of sense.

But when I was gif-ing stuff from 1.03 today, I realized that... funnily enough, within the context of this episode we also have some fun stuff relating to the "slightly psychic Dean" posts that have gone around this year... Or if you prefer, Cassandra!Dean. Cassandra, in reference to the prophet in Greek myth, cursed by Apollo to utter true prophecies but never be believed.

Dean often knows when bad things are going to happen in Supernatural. He doesn't have visions—but he has "bad feelings" and makes predictions that turn out to be scarily accurate at times. Of course we can infer that Dean is just good at 1) reading people and 2) understanding how sequences of events tumble one by one in a row like so many dominoes. It's another sign of his incredible intelligence. But it IS fun to think about Dead In The Water as the first indication of Cassandra!Dean.

First, because Lucas has premonitions, and Lucas and Dean are paralleled and connect on an emotional level.

Dean and Lucas have similar traumatic childhood experiences. Both watched a parent die and both lost the ability to speak afterwards:

DEAN You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Dean is able to connect with Lucas through their shared traumatic experience. He's the only one who's able to get through to him—and after a short conversation and just drawing together for a while—much to his mom's shock. Dean is able to understand what Lucas is feeling without Lucas saying it.

Second, because Lucas has bad feelings that tell him the locations where the spirit will strike next, but no one listens to/believes him.

...Kind of like people usually don't listen to/believe Dean's bad feelings.

DEAN Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.

Of course, this line is just Dean paralleling Lucas with himself and his own reasons for not speaking, but it must hit home, because Lucas begins communicating with Dean through drawings.

Further, despite Sam also knowing Lucas is having premonitions, when Lucas reacts with extreme distress to the idea of going home and clings to Dean desperately, Sam still... doesn't think it means anything. He thinks the case is over.

Third, Dean has a bad feeling that the case isn't over, and Sam doesn't believe him.

The sheriff had just threatened to arrest them if they stayed in town, so of course going back to town is a big deal. When Dean turns around based on a bad feeling, Sam thinks he's just being paranoid.

SAM But Dean, this job, I think it's over. DEAN I'm not so sure. SAM If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest. DEAN All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt? SAM But why would you think that? DEAN Because Lucas was really scared. SAM That's what this is about?

Dean sticks to his guns, and they arrive just in time to save Lucas's mother from drowning in a bathtub.

#1.03 #he is literally cassandra #pk rewatches spn number ?#parallels #season 1

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magicalqueennightmare · 3 months

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Little Witch (Pt 2/5)

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

You begin trying to piece memories of what happened to you and Elijah together. Will it be enough to make Klaus believe the two of you did not betray his trust

The day had long since given way to night, letting shadows creep over the buildings and alleyways as you walked the streets of New Orleans. You'd gotten a hotel room but couldn't sit inside the four walls attempting to push against the heavy barrier within your mind blocking you from remembering just what exactly happened between you and Elijah.

You couldn't go back to the compound so you'd been forced to buy a few changes of clothes. Once you'd gotten the room you'd showered three times and threw away all the clothes you'd been wearing. You felt dirty, something had happened. You knew it to your very being that nothing on earth would have driven you and Elijah to hurt the very people that meant the most to you both.

You needed help but was unsure where to turn. Davina was with Kol, she may very well turn you away. Freya was a laughable option even if she'd been on the same continent. It had been years since you felt so damn alone.

You hadn't realized how blindly you'd been wandering until you slammed into a hard chest. Arms caught you before you could fall and only then did you realize it was Marcel. “I haven't seen you in ages without Klaus attached to your hip” he teased with a smile. Maybe Rebekah didn't know yet? Or maybe she'd kept it from him?

You forced a smile onto your face “He's at home with Hope. I was just out doing some shopping” his eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief “Alone? Normally Rebekah or Hayley would be with you” you shrugged “Maybe I'm shopping for them” he seemed to either buy it or chose to let it go. He nodded and squeezed your shoulder closest to him gently “Well do us all a favor and pay a little better attention. I'd hate to see something happen to you beyond the fact that New Orleans may not survive his wrath if something happened to Klaus’ little witch”

You promised him to be more intune with your surroundings before walking away. You took a breath, uncurling that string inside of you that held the spark of your magic just below the surface. You needed to calm down. You let it seep out just enough to make you aware should a threat be nearby but even then it felt heavier than usual. Like it took effort to touch the spark when it should've been as natural as breathing.

Maybe you just needed some sleep? You decided to head back to the hotel.

After a sleepless night you were up early the following day. Another round of showers and you'd changed into fresh clothes. You needed to chase down answers even if you were alone in it.

You were just heading to the door when a knock on it pulled your attention. You slowly walked across to it, as your hand hit the knob you heard Rebekah's voice “Just open the bloody door. We need to talk”

Great, was she simply going to snap your neck to save one brother from daggering the other or worse? You opened the door, feeling every muscle inside of you tense. She let her eyes track over you then shook her head “Calm down and tone down your magic. I'm truly just here to talk”

You stepped back and let her into the room before you closed the door then turned to lean against it “Rebekah you've got to know I love Klaus” she nodded before a smile slipped onto her face “No one knows why exactly but yes the love you have for my brother is clear. I just want to know what happened. Klaus is raging, Hayley won't look at Elijah and he's not exactly being chatty either. I've caught the basics but I'm still confused. You have never been more than friends with Elijah, how the hell did you two wind up in bed with each other?”

You shrugged, feeling yourself deflate “I have no idea. The last thing I remember was the two of us walking out of an antique shop. I'd gotten the owner to track down something for me. The next thing I know I hear Klaus calling my name and it was like his voice broke through a dark wall around me. When it burst Elijah was on top of me looking just as confused as I felt”

That barrier inside your head seemed to double in weight when you once again tried to remember what happened. “Sounds like someone messed with your heads. I mean I'm not well versed in magic but it's almost as if you were compelled but your magic prevents that and Elijah is an original. No one could compel him”

You met her eyes with a small smile “Do you believe me?” She nodded “Of course. I've questioned the why of you loving my brother not the fact of it. If you need help I'm here” you nodded slowly feeling a tiny bit lighter than moments before just to be believed “Do you think Hayley will talk to me?”

She shook her head “No but I could get Elijah to meet me at one of Marcel's places. Neutral ground. The two of you can compare memories and see where that takes you” you felt a flicker of your magic swirl up without you calling it. It slammed violently against that barrier in your head blocking your memories from you. Your magic demanded answers as much as you did. “I can't thank you enough” she waved her hand “Please don't take this personally but me intervening is selfish on my part. I can't stand dealing with Klaus’ tantrum for long”

You walked into the bar Marcel had secured for this meeting and froze when you saw Rebekah sitting at the bar drinking a glass of wine while it appeared the glass in Elijah's hand was barely withstanding the pressure from his fingertips while he stood on her other side.

They both glanced up at your arrival but you noticed how quickly Elijah dropped his gaze. Rebekah plucked another glass from behind the bar and poured it halfway with wine and slid it towards you. You sat next to her and stared down into the glass. After a moment she sighed heavily “I'm moving now to give you two the illusion of privacy to talk”

She stood and walked across the bar to a table. You took a sip of the wine before Elijah spoke your name gently. You turned to look at him as he said “I apologize for whatever happened”

Did he think you blamed him? Whatever occurred you were both victims of it. “I don't blame you, hell I truly don't think either of us was to blame” he tilted his head to signal you to go on with the explanation so you explained how it felt inside your head trying to remember and even told him how sluggish your magic was being. He listened intently then nodded “If what you're thinking is correct what is the reasoning?”

You shrugged “I'm not sure yet but I feel like maybe you were used as a weapon to hurt Klaus. He loves you, no matter what's happened between you two you are his big brother. I was being challenged by a lot of witches for taking the side of your family in the fight when Hayley was pregnant before Klaus invited me to move in. I can protect myself but the original hybrid saying I was his? That sent a message. I thought I'd killed all of my old coven but if someone survived this could be revenge. Rip me away from the man I love, the family that claimed me. The safety of having reinforces to back me up should it come to a fight. I took on the strongest spell they had and I'm still standing. They couldn't take me down as a witch so now they're aiming to take me down as a woman. Make heartbreak heavy on my mind so I don't see it coming”

Elijah was quiet for a moment and you could see him thinking of what you'd said then he nodded “They used me to hurt you, to hurt Niklaus. When you find them you have my word you won't be alone to face them”

You smiled slightly “Thank you Elijah and I hope this doesn't affect our friendship because you mean a lot to me” He finally gave you a small smile “It won't simply because we won't let it. I'll get Rebekah to help me speak to Hayley. Perhaps she'll see logic but as for Niklaus..” you cut him off by saying “I'll talk to him”

You started to stand up but Elijah caught your arm and when he met his eyes once again he gave you a gentle smile before slipping a dagger into your hand. “I know you love him and I want to trust in the love I know he still has for you but he is angry”

“I can't dagger Klaus” you whispered and Rebekah spoke up “The dagger is reversible but if he kills you in a fit of rage to discover later that all of this wasn't yours or Elijah's fault the guilt will never leave him”

The dagger felt heavy where it laid in the inner pocket of your jacket as you walked into the Mikaelson compound. Klaus didn't know you were coming, Rebekah had called him with the pretense that she thought he'd killed a couple wolves and he'd told her he was at home.

You knew this could possibly be a death sentence but something wasn't right. Both yours and Elijah's memories were spotty at best. The last thing sticking out to both of you was walking out of that antique store but hours passed between then and the moment Klaus and Hayley found you two together. What exactly had gone down in that time frame?

You froze the moment you felt him. "Klaus" you turned to see him standing not far from you leaning against the very doorway you'd just crossed through into the sitting room "I told you to not come back here or have you come to ensure I don't kill your lover?" You felt a surge of anger at his words. You loved him as did Elijah, neither of you would've hurt him or Hayley intentionally. "I've come to talk to you Klaus”

He took a step towards you and it took everything for you to not step back. You could sense the anger and betrayal rolling off of him in waves. "About what exactly, love? About how I trusted you despite you being a witch? About how Hayley trusted you? About how our daughter keeps asking for you and neither of us can give her an answer as to where you are? About how it felt to find the woman I love, MY little witch, spread out beneath my brother?”

So many emotions hit you at once. The love you had for the man in front of you, the indignation at knowing someone managed to get in yours and Elijah's head, the worry about if something else had occurred between the two of you, the guilt at knowing you'd hurt Klaus and Hayley and now the added guilt of Hope asking for you and not being able to go to her.

“Yes, if that's what it takes for you to talk to me then by all means yes” you could see the surprise in his eyes at you answering like that even if he'd swallowed the emotion the moment he felt it. He took another step forward causing you to unintentionally take a step back.

A flicker of a smile passed his face “What's wrong love? Scared of me now?” Despite his calm demeanor you could see the anger rolling off him. Betrayal and pain stained his aura as he spoke. “I don't want you to do anything that you'll regret later” he laughed and took another step forward and it wasn't until your back hit the wall that you realized he'd done it on purpose. He wanted you pinned between him and the hard wall.

He braced his palms on either side of your head before leaning down where you could feel the warmth of his breath on your ear. Your mind was working to remind you of the bigger picture at hand but damn your body it was reacting to Klaus’ close proximity. A whimper all but tumbled from your mouth when you left the warm flick of his tongue over your pulse “You're breathing hard and your heart has sped up. What's wrong little witch?”

You swallowed hard trying to find your voice but what he said next reignited that anger in your belly “Or are you wishing I was someone else” you reached down for your magic, using it to aid in the process as you shoved both hands hard against his chest. He backed up but kept a smirk firmly in place. You shook yourself to clear your head, feeling the weight of the dagger against your side.

“I want to talk” he waved a hand “Go ahead then. Tell me how it wasn't what it looked like. How Elijah somehow knew where on your neck you like to be kissed and how you were moaning his name but you somehow say it wasn't leading to you sleeping with him”

You forced the tears down that wanted to spill at his words “We can't remember Klaus. Neither of us have any recollection for about a three hour span. The last memory was us walking out of an antique shop together”

“Such convenient amnesia” he gasped and you had the urge to slap him. You never should've come here without proof. You shook your head “Forget it. You're not wanting to talk rationally or to see logic”

You took a few steps towards the door but the reality of the fact that if you were fighting someone strong enough to get into yours and Elijah's head you may not survive it this time. You paused with your hand on the door then looked back at him. He was frozen where you'd left him but this time he was looking at you at least “Rebekah knows which hotel I'm staying at. When I find who's responsible I'm tearing them apart. If something happens to me… she has a letter for you and one for Hope. Know I love you Niklaus Mikaelson and that I will until I draw my last breath”

When he didn't make a move to come closer you shook your head, feeling tears form in your eyes before walking out.

@snowtargaryen

#klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson fic #klaus mikaelson fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #tvd fanfiction

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feelbokkie · 1 year

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괜찮아 잡아줄게 (It's okay, I'll catch you)

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

**Requested**

If it’s not too much to ask, can I request a Jisung one shot with prompts 8, 12, and 16? Maybe the reader is having a bad panic attack and her bf Jisung is the only one who can calm her down? Love your writing 💕

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, a smidge of fluff at the end as a treat

pov: 2nd person

description: You're having a panic attack and the only only one who can calm you down is your boyfriend Jisung. (title is a lyric from Grow Up) (not proof read)

pairing: bf!jisung x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, reader is having a panic attack (DNI if you might get triggered)

word count: 2,950

You were sitting at the dining room table in the dorm ,that you share with your boyfriend Jisung and three of his group mates, typing furiously on your laptop. You had several assignment deadlines all due within the next couple of days, including your 2 year long thesis. After 4 long years of university, you were finally graduating, if you managed ro get all your assignments in on time and your thesis submitted.

You’re not sure how or why you’re so behind on your studies. Sure, you weren’t the most organized person, but you you always did a little bit of work that way when you inevitably had to sit down and work on whatever assignment you procrastinated, you were ready to go. You pride yourself on “working well under pressure” despite it giving you major anxiety and a few minor panic attacks. Your thesis, despited being the culmination of your entire university experience, was no exception to that. You had done your research for your topic. Most of the first year you started working in it was spent collecting articles and data and saving it for later when you would actually start writing. You were supposed to start writing in January. But you kept pushing it off since the submission deadline wasn’t until April.

That’s how most of the semester went when you realized that none of your professors cared about when you got your assignments in. As long as you turned something in, and it looked like you put effort, you got an A. Unlike your assignments, your thesis had to be read and approved by academic readers before you could submit it and you had only emailed them twice the whole semester with 2 half asses drafts. You decided to pull several all nighters last week to get a complete 60 paged draft roughly two weeks before the deadline so you would have time for revisions. You managed to email it to them exactly a week ago today, now you were anxiously waiting for your feedback. The problem is, they were taking too long and the thesis is due Monday. Normally, they would email you back 1-2 days after you email them a draft, even with your longer papers. It scared you to think that they’re taking 7 whole days this time, leaving you roughly 5ish days to work on revisions, not counting the turn around time for them to send you more feedback. While waiting, you pulled even more all-nighters to catch up on your other assignments that got neglected of the past few weeks.

Jisung had been good with leaving you alone the past few weeks while you worked. All of your roommates were. Hyunjin mostly stayed in his room like normal, only coming out every few hours to eat and socialize before returning to his room. Changbin is gone most of the day, either working out or exploring the out world. The few time’s he’s been home he tried to stay quiet and out of your way. Chan also spends a lot of time either in his room or at the studio. He even offered to let you use his room to do your homework in while he’s at the studio so the others were less likely to bug you. Jisung, being a bit more needy than the other three men, stayed near you most of the time. Like reading manga at the table while you worked or watching something on his computer either at the table next to you on the floor. He also makes sure you eat and get some sort of snack. He often would have to come beg you to get some sleep, promising to wake you up at a certain time so you could get back to work. Right now, he’s at the convenience store getting lunch for the two of you.

Taking a break from writing, you check your email for the 15th time today. Seeing an email from your academic advisor at the top makes your heart drop. You waste no time opening the email, eyes quickly scanning the words. Making sure you were reading everything properly, you re-read the email.

“Hey, how are you doing with your homework?” Hyunjin pats your head as he walks by, finally leaving his room for the second time today.

“Everything is okay,” You mutter back, finally opening the comments that your readers left on your paper.

Hyunjin stares at you for a second. He knows that you definitely didn’t answer the question he asked. He debated if he should press you or continue on like nothing happened. He knew you were stressed, all of your roommates did. So he brushed it off as you being too engrossed in your assignments and continued on to the kitchen to make himself something to eat.

“Everything is okay,” You mumble to yourself.

Everything is not okay. Your advisors had completely torn your paper apart. You knew there were issues with it, it was only natural that you hadn’t written a perfect complete draft after multiple sleepless nights. You expected it. What you hadn’t expected was being told that your paper was so bad that there would be no way for you to fix it in time for the Monday submission deadline and you would instead have to work on it over the summer. It’s not good enough. You’re not good enough.

“Everything is okay,”

“Did you say something?” Hyunjin calls from the kitchen. He was debating if he should just give up on the idea of making something to eat and just order food.

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster at the notion that everything not being okay, like it would beat out of your chest at any second. You can feel your hands becoming cold and clammy. You slowly wipe your hands on you pant legs, trying to calm yourself down. If you don’t do something—anything to calm down, you’re going to have a panic attack. You need cold water. You quickly stand up, legs feeling like jelly, and make your way to the kitchen.

You walk straight past Hyunjin, who was now finishing ordering himself food, and grab a cup from the cabinet. He pays little attention to you as he focuses on the menu, debating if he should just order dinner as well. He doesn’t see your hands shaking as you take the cup to the sink and fill it with ice and cold water. He doesn’t even look up at you until the combination of your sweaty, shaking hands and the heaviness of the cup makes you drop it, shattering it across the floor.

“Everything is okay,” You can’t even get a cup of water.

Hyunjin rushes to get the broom while you drop to the floor and start picking up the shards of glass. Your heart is beating even faster now, you can feel it in your ribcage, and now you’re breathing quickly.

“Y/n, I got it, move,” Hyunjin playfully pushes you away with the broom except, you don’t budge. Instead your chest tightens and your breathing quickens even more.

“Y/n? Chan hyung!” Hyunjin drops the broom and come next to you as he watched you cut yourself on a piece of glass and still try to clean, finally understanding that everything is not okay.

Chan rushes out of his room at the sound of panic in Hyunjin’s voice. He stops when he sees you sitting on the floor, hyperventilating and holding glass in your bloodied hands while Hyunjin slowly rubs circles on your back. He kneels down on the other side of you and carefully pulls the glass shards you are holding out of your hands.

“What happened?” Chan doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“I don’t know! She dropped the cup and started having a panic attack.” Hyunjin says, standing up.

“Where’s Han?” Hyunjin hands Chan a towel for your hand. The cut isn’t bad enough for you need stitches, but it is still bleeding.

“He went out not too long ago.”

“Call him, now. Y/n, hey, let try to take a deep breathe…” Chan now focuses all of his attention of calming you down.

The boys know you’re prone to panic attack, especially when you're stressed. They also know that Jisung is the only one who is able to properly calm you down if you weren’t able to stop the attack from happening in the first place.

“…Don’t panic, but you need to come home right now…It’s Y/n, she having a panic attack…Chan hyung is with her right now but it seems really bad this time…Yeah, okay see you soon. Hyung, Han said to try that 333 thing.” Hyunjin slides his phone back in his pocket before picking up the broom again and trying to clean up the broken glass.

“Yeah, right, okay, um… Y/n, can you tell me three things you see?” Chan was now sitting right in front of you, hands on your wrists stroking a finger back and forth trying to calm you down a bit.

“Everything…is…okay,” You choke out, tears now falling down your face. Chan starts to worry more now. In all the times he’s seen you have a panic attack, he’s never see you reduced to tears. He quickly shares a look with Hyunjin who was now done cleaning the glass and getting a mop for the water.

“Yeah, you’re right everything is okay. Why don’t you just tell me three things you can hear instead?”

“Can’t breathe,” Your breathes become shorter as the pounding in your chest gets even stronger, practically blocking out all outside sounds.

“Let’s just take one deep breathe. Can you do that for me? I’ll do it with you, c’mon,” You try to follow Chan’s lead and take a deep but choke instead and start crying harder.

“Hyung…” Hyunjin softly calls out. He’s one of your best friends and he hates seeing you in distress like this.

“Yeah, I know. Just go wait by the door so you can let Han in when he gets here. Y/n, it’s okay. Let’s try that again but slowly this time.” Chan was no longer concerned that you were having a panic attack, but that you might actually make yourself pass out this time. He slight moves his body so that he could catch you if you went down.

A few minutes later, Jisung runs into the dorm out of breathe. Hyunjin points to the kitchen and takes the bag that was in his hands. Jisung quickly kicks off his shoes and rushes into the kitchen where you were now full on sobbing on the floor. He wastes no time sitting in front of you and cupping your face.

“Sungie?” Your tearful eyes meet his concerned ones.

“Hey princess, what’s going on?” His thumb swipes over your cheek, briefly breaking the flow of tears. Chan finally gets up from the floor and leaves the two of you in the kitchen alone. He sits with Hyunjin in the living room, making sure to keep an ear out in case he was needed again.

“Everything is okay,” You repeat. At this point, you weren’t sure if you had been telling everyone else that everything was fine or if you were trying to calm yourself down.

“Everything is okay, let’s try to focus on your breathing so that everything can be even more okay.”

“I—I can’t, it hurts. Like my chest is going to explode. I think it actually might this time.” Jisung’s left hand leaves your face and gently lands on your chest with slight pressure. The fact that he could feel how hard your heart was working worried him. He quietly decided that if he couldn’t calm you down in 20 minutes, he’d call for an ambulance.

“You’re safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He reassures you. Your eyes start to wander around the kitchen, remembering everything you had to get done today.

“I broke a glass…and I still have so much homework to get done.” Your breathing quickens yet again and you cry even harder.

“Hey, just look at me. Forget everything else. The glass is already taken care of and we can worry about your homework a little later. Right now, I just need you to touch my hand. Can you do that for me?” His right hand leaves your face. He holds up next to him, like he’s awkwardly waving hi, and waits for you to touch it.

“Ji, I can’t,” You whimper.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. Just listen to my voice. Take a deep breathe in and when you touch my hand, let that breathe out. Okay?” He slowly takes a deep breathe in and you follow suite. Your shaky hand meets his steady one and you let out the air you were holding in.

“Good girl,” He moves his hand to a new position, “let’s do that again.”

You repeat your actions, taking a deep breathe in and letting it out once you touch Jisung’s, until your breathing becomes less labored. His left hand never leaves your chest, acting like a weight blanket with the amount of pressure he was adding. He was afraid to actually put a real weighted blanket on you in your current state.

“Feel a little better?” Jisung asks, still continuing to have you follow his hand. You just quietly shake your head yes. Your breathing had regulated and your heart had slowed down to a normal pace.

“Can you get up?” You shake your head yes again.

“Okay, let’s get you up so we can take care of that hand.” Jisung gets up first and helps pull you up. He leaves out a hand for you to take. Instead you grab his sleeve and allow him to lead you out of the kitchen.

The two of you walk past Chan and Hyunjin who were quietly talking on the couch. Jisung quietly gives them a look of appreciation and that everything is good before taking you to the bathroom. Once inside he helps you sit on the counter, careful to make sure you don’t see yourself in the mirror. Worried that if you saw the state of yourself, you might start panicking again. You had calmed down significantly, but you were still crying and that worried him.

“Do…do you want to talk about what made you panic? It’s okay if you don’t.” He pulls out the first-aid kit and starts cleaning your cut.

“I”m not good enough,” You simply choke out.

“What makes you say that?” That’a one of the things you love about Jisung. He never jumps to reassure you when you doubt yourself, he tries to understand why you’re feeling a certain way first.

“My thesis is shit and my readers say there is no way for me to fix it in time for submission on Monday so I’ll have to do it during the summer. And I don’t know what that means for graduation next month because we’ve already booked the venue for the dinner and my family already bought their tickets and booked their hotel rooms and if I tell them I can’t graduate anymore then they’ll be disappointed and I’ll be proving them right about every decision I’ve ever made—”

“Breathe, Y/n, just breathe…” He doesn’t even look up as he wraps your hand with a bandage.

“Everything is falling apart, Ji.” He cleans up the first-aid kit and then grabs a clean wash cloth from under the cabinet, wetting it with water from the sink.

“Let’s just take everything one step at a time, okay? You already caught up with all your late work, right?”

“Yeah,”

“And you were just trying to get ahead on your last few assignment?”

“Yeah,”

“I’m sure they’ll still let you walk at graduation and just hold onto your degree until you turn in your thesis. Tomorrow, I will help you contact your school to figure that out. Today, let’s just focus on getting you better. You haven’t been sleeping much the past couple of weeks. Let’s just take the rest of the day to rest.” Jisung takes the washcloth and wipes your face, cleaning the tears.

“But Jisung, I can’t—”

“How about we take a small break and you take a nap? And then we can go from there? I know how much it drains you when you have a panic attack.”

“Okay, just a nap.”

“And lunch, you also need to eat too. We can eat in our room if you want. I got some gimbap and ramyeon.”

“Okay, food and a nap.” Jisung takes you back to your shared room and sits you on the bed. He wraps you in the weight blanket that you two use when one of you are feeling anxious. He kisses your forehead before leaving the room for a little bit.

When he comes back he’s carrying two bowls and the bag he had earlier. He carefully sets the food on the table that you bought so you could work while in bed before sitting down in front of you. He watches as your still shaky hands grab the chops sticks and fail to get any noodles before he slowly offers to feed you.

“Do you want me to help you with your homework? I know I’m not the best with school stuff but I’ll try to help you any way I can.” He says, taking a bite of his own food.

“I think I’ll be fine after some rest, but can you just sit with me later while I work maybe?”

“Of course, anything for you, jagi.”

—

Buy me a coffee?

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mywritingonlyfans · 6 months

Text

Teacher's pet. // Prof! Alex Turner X Stud! Reader (Smut) Part 2 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9K.

a/n: I'll need to add one more part, I hope you still feel like reading them! Thank you for waiting all this time! (I'll try my best to finish the last part soon)

HERE'S PART1

Alex promptly notified campus authorities about the boys. Although he didn't know their names, his detailed description enabled other professors to identify them. He ultimately concluded that they weren't a real threat, just a bunch of troublemakers. Nevertheless, he did his part, unwilling to let the situation slide and subject himself to any torment for having overlooked their inappropriate behavior. In the same way, he'd be watching you just as closely, not only because he wanted you to be okay but also because of the intensity that had built up inside him (thoughts and a tiny bit of obsession) after the last time he saw you.

…

His messy and crooked handwriting on the napkin somehow lingered in your mind. Not as much as the possibility of him being someone other than yours, but it persistently surrounded your aura. Your idealization of Professor Turner did not fit with him being a traitor, so yes, the way you portrayed him in your mind did not allow for such a possibility unless he proved otherwise. And that hurts, from deep within your core to the bitterness in your mouth and the burning in your throat. It was frustrating, yet you still wanted him around. What continued to motivate you to read the book he had given you and delve into his notes was the feeling of having him by your side, reading every word with you. Sometimes you were certain that if you closed your eyes, you could hear his rough, accentuated voice blending with the characters.

Perhaps, if you were his age and already held a degree, maybe even a professor specializing in romantic literature, there might have been something between you two. Picture it: a rainy afternoon, your head resting on his chest, his warm lips near your ear as he read to you. You hadn't openly acknowledged it yet, but you felt a certain compatibility despite the numbers of years difference. It took you a while to realize, but his demeanor softened whenever he saw you, his gaze growing more serene, and even the beloved wrinkle between his eyebrows had time to relax. His voice became gentler. You weren't completely oblivious to these cues, though you did have your doubts.

It all traced back to that one night when he had come to your aid, opening your eyes to the possibility that he could belong to someone. The faint, woody scent of his blazer had found its way to your home. He had even apologized for pulling back from a kiss, not wanting to be rude, and left his phone number in your belongings with a simple message: "Call me if you need me, lil’ one." He left no room for doubt; your mind still spun, and you felt helpless, uncertain about what steps to take. But your desire to do something about it burned brightly.

"I can hear your breathing," his tone was relaxed. Just as you hoped it would be with you, and then you wondered if he could recognize you by your breathing alone.

You remained silent, there was no plausible reason or emergency that had made you call. It wasn't strange, just unusual. He laughed, which made you imagine him with a cigarette between his fingers, taking a breath on the balcony with his mouth slightly open to blow out the smoke. Maybe he just smoked too much, and you weren't obsessed.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence." He laughed, in a way that filled your lungs, and the little wrinkles around his eyes appeared for contemplation. At least in your mind, just for you.

You exhaled, your eyes filling with tears. It wasn't exactly a desire to cry, but you felt genuinely sad knowing that you weren't and wouldn't be his.

"How do you know it's me, Mr. Turner?" You wanted to sound playful, but your voice came out so shaky that it made calling him that seem inappropriate.

"It was a guess. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would call me at this hour and stay in deep silence. And, well," there was a pause, his guttural and muffled breathing making you take a deep breath. Enough time for a drag, you thought. "You know, I was ‘oping you’d call." He was sincere, typical of him. He always seemed too clear when he wanted to be. Everyone said he was strict, but you couldn't think of a time when he had made his students confused or uncertain about something he demanded. Demanded, that was a word that suited him in the classroom.

"Waited?" And you saw him nod with a sweet look for you, as if he were by your side. In fact, he just mumbled. "Expected me to be in trouble?" You tried to sound more cheerful.

There was a pause; you lay down, staring at the walls until you buried your nose in the pillow in a hug. He was close to his phone; you could hear him wet his lips and breathe lightly. You wanted to run your fingers over his face and hair again, but you couldn't deny that this was as magnificent as it got.

"Not at all, but I wouldn't hesitate to save you." His eyes closed tightly. The silence grew deeper, still comfortable, it was cute. If you had the chance, you would kiss him before that, before it got too cute. "I'm sorry," he said, not sounding regretful, just reluctant due to your brief absence.

You laughed, not saying anything, but it was enough for him to understand that everything was okay.

"Are you sad?"

Then you felt the pillow get a little damp.

"Am I really that transparent?"

He let out a breath through his nose, his lips curving. If he closed his eyes just right, just like you did, he would also be able to feel your fingers dancing around him.

"Only when you write, but I blame myself for watchin’ you too much during this time." You sounded the same way as when he pushed you a little too hard with his pragmatic comments, and although he found it adorable, over the phone, without being able to do anything about it, it made him a little uncomfortable. His words took brief seconds to be spoken; he wondered if you noticed how nervous he was that he needed to formulate sentences before speaking. And even then, he regretted some of them, not that they were bad, but he didn't want to hurt you.

"I guess I am,"

"Guess?" The air caught in your throat, the back of your nose starting to burn, and you feared it would be difficult to keep tears from flowing.

You didn't want to comment on the woman in the photo, at least not at that moment; you wanted to enjoy being with him as much as possible. Taking a deep breath, you decided to omit the reason but still let him know that you were genuinely upset. Maybe it was because he had helped you; you didn't know why, but you trusted him to a moderate extent that included your feelings. You believed and knew that talking to him would make you feel better.

"I think I'm just stressed," it wasn't a lie. His body shivered, unable to hold you close to comfort you. You felt a little pathetic making such a confession to a 37-year-old man who didn't have the same problems as you.

"I feel like I'm trying so hard for nothing, the days of writing have been a burden, and everything I write is so thought out and time-consuming that I feel like no one would want to read it, I'm almost certain I'm a fraud. I'm just waiting for the day they'll realize." Your throat was already scratchy enough to be closed from the middle to the end; your face was wet, and your head pounded in pulses. This was a recurring thought of yours; you had never verbalized it to anyone.

He listened, his steady breathing becoming slightly faster, and in a way, it calmed you over the phone. The whimsical feeling that he was there for you, even if it was a situation made up in your head, put you at ease.

Alex had noticed that you were insecure about your writing; it was clear how you reacted to his notes and negative feedback. But that was one of the things that made you good, the persistence in wanting to recognize your mistakes, listen, and do things differently. He wished all his students were like that. Although you had a special place in his mind and heart. Alex found you talented and determined; weakness didn't align with your gentle and loving personality. He wanted to make you see yourself through his eyes and free you from that feeling.

"I don't think you are, lil’ one; I know you're not," the pet name brought a smile to your face, and Alex noticed, his chest warming with the satisfaction of successfully soothing your worries. "You'll reach your goals. You write well, pay great attention to detail, and I love every touch of romance in your writing. I mean it now, and I'll mean it even more in the near future. You’re quite meant for this." He settled into his bed, clearing his mind as he imagined you lying beside him. Alex could almost see your gaze darting away from his, just as you often did during his lectures, as if you hoped he wouldn't notice.

You wouldn't admit it, and he wouldn't discover it, but you felt more confident and better in this emotional aspect after his classes. You recognized that you felt even worse about this in the months before you even knew Alex. Now it was different, and you liked that.

"Do you really think so?" It didn't sound like you wanted to hear him repeat the same words. It was more like you still had traces of doubt. He could even see your nose wrinkling, a habit of yours when you were uncertain, which he found endearing. Just like hearing your weak voice like that, no matter how wrong it may be.

"Sometimes I'm certain that I'm not worth the opportunity that someone needs to give me so I can succeed in something, something that hasn't even happened yet and might never," Alex didn't let you linger on that and hushed you until your voice diminished. If he found it painful to hear you talk about yourself this way, he couldn't imagine how you were dealing with it inside your head. "I don't want you to talk ‘bout yourself like that." His voice was firmer, and you shrunk back; it was good to hear above all. "You'll make it. You're worried ‘bout a future you can't control. You're still young, and you haven't even finished your degree. Give things time. Like I said, you're talented, and you'll have good opportunities. And I'd help you in any way possible." Inside his head, he concluded, and in the impossible too. He wished he could hug you, have your body close, and be sure that you were comforted and that your voice was no longer filled with tears, but all he had were words.

Even without a turn of phrase, he noticed you calming down, and he could feel your exaggerated heartbeat through the call. Or maybe that was just his worries. You were a mess. And even though you were frustrated, he didn't want to be anywhere else that night but on the phone with you (even though he preferred you in person next to him).

"Do you think it gets better with time, Mr. Turner?" You smiled; it was forced, he knew that, but he was relieved that you were trying. Then he scratched his nose with a funny look, the way you called him still sending shivers through his body, but he also found it cute how the sound came from your lips.

"The insecurity you're feeling?" You nodded in a mumble. "It doesn't get better, but we learn to deal with it better, I think." You laughed again, with more enthusiasm, and Alex felt accomplished, feeling his own cheeks blush.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." You said softly, closing your eyes, the phone pressed against your cheek, still hugging your pillow even tighter. His breath truly acted as a calming agent on you.

"Little one?" He noticed you were tired. "You can call me Alex if you want; there's no reason to be so formal." He felt awkward asking for that, even though the whole situation was awkward.

"Okay," you said softly, not quite able to bring yourself to say his name. The way you sounded thoughtful even with such a small word made Alex chuckle quietly in a discreet way. You were so adorable in his eyes.

Silence took over, in the same warm and familiar tone as throughout the call. You began to smell his scent on your sheets and remembered lying there with his blazer before, although for now, it was likely just a figment of your imagination. But it felt so real; you were really drowsy from sleep.

"Turner?" He murmured to let you know he was still there, finding the evolution of you avoiding "mister" quite sweet, as it made him feel less old compared to you than he actually was.

"I've been writing different works; I'd like you to take a look. I like it when you assist me without taking away my freedom." He ran his hand over his abdomen, his body warm, and he felt guilty once again for pulling you into this with him, even if that was your will too.

"I'd love to. I'm free tomorrow if you want to come over." It sounded subtle and right. Neither of you could tell if it was the effect of sleep, but he liked the idea of having you at his house again and being able to talk to you outside the academic environment. You took a while to respond, and he almost took back his earlier words.

"Is it not a problem?" Your mind went back to how he could have someone who was his person.

"No," he said, not sounding pensive, but he was wondering if someone important at the university found out it could give you problems. He knew it wasn't right for him, but he didn't care as much about what could happen to him; you had more to lose than he did, you were at the beginning of your academic career, and he wouldn't do that to you. "Do you think it could be a problem for you?"

You denied it, realizing you needed to speak for him to know the answer. "No, I think it's a good idea," you concluded, deciding that you would make the most of it, whatever it was. It was the first time you felt attracted - you liked him, you were a bit obsessed, you were afraid - and you were almost certain he felt the same way, and you didn't want to waste it.

After a few short minutes, you continued, "I love the way you write about being in love, as if there's only room for that one person in your head, and nothing else matters. I hope that if someone ever falls in love with me, it's at least 10% of how you describe that feeling." He knew you read his publications, yet he felt a delightful warmth, like receiving a handwritten note from your middle school crush confessing the same feelings. He appreciated your work, and your appreciation of his made him feel great. "Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new? I won't settle for anything less." Although Alex had written this a while ago, he found himself contemplating how well it matched what he felt for you.

You couldn't find more words, but both of you could sense each other's presence, the subtle laughter, and the soft breaths. Words weren't the sole means of communication; you both comprehended the situation and willingly let things progress at their own tempo. With this feeling of ease, you slipped into a peaceful and rejuvenating slumber, so unaware of it.

A few before this, he commented about needing to dispose of the ashes and the ashtray, and your face brightened in the darkness upon realizing you were right. He was smoking this whole time. Once you drifted off to sleep, Alex allowed himself to do the same, filled with the assurance that you were safe.

…

Your gaze appeared distant, and your fingers, on the verge of digging into your arm's skin due to impatience, twitched nervously. You leaned against the wall, seeking to evade the curious glances of passersby, well aware that your tension was conspicuously written across your features.

"Hey, what happened?" His voice carried deep concern, and as his gaze met yours, you couldn't help but fear that someone had issued a threat you were blissfully unaware of. He didn't hesitate, closing the gap between you, his proximity sending shivers down your spine. He was clearly worried.

It took a moment for you to find yourself as you briskly navigated the corridor leading to the reception desk, anxiety clutching at your chest.

"They're having issues with my documents, for dear God. I need them to apply to some campus. I did everything correctly, notified them of my need for these documents, and I'm still well within the deadline…" Your voice trailed off, caught in the charged atmosphere, your mind aflame.

His gaze remained steady upon you, his countenance markedly soothed now that your anxiety had heightened the stakes of the situation. He adjusted the bag slung over his shoulder and extended a reassuring touch, his fingertips coming to rest gently upon your hand.

Moistening his lips and making that soft, almost playful sound one uses to capture a cat's attention, you couldn't help but release a small, albeit apprehensive chuckle, providing relief to both you and Mr Turner; he was doing well.

His presence, grounding and reassuring, helped to temper your nerves. He remained with you until your breathing found its way back to the present.

Glancing around, his eyes found no one in close proximity. He dipped his head slightly to align himself with your level, a tremor of emotion causing your cheeks to twitch. His face and the tip of his nose were red.

Running his fingers softly across your cheek, he offered you a warm smile despite your obvious reluctance stemming from the absence of his hand in yours.

"It's alright. Everything's going to be just fine, little one." His voice gradually dissolved your anxiety and the gripping sensation in your chest. He brought his fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them before tracing their path back to your face.

First, he lightly pressed against your forehead, then your nose, and finally your cheek before his hands slid back into his pockets.

Unbidden, the thought crossed your mind that he would've kissed your tears away, a gesture of comfort he was undoubtedly willing to extend, if only the circumstances allowed. And then your mind ached at the brief reminder that you had woken up in the double bed in his room that night.

His laughter filled the space, eyes glistening with warmth, and the wrinkles around them adding to his features. In that moment, you fervently wished he could be yours, even as your self-awareness acknowledged the depth of your feelings.

"Where do you intend to apply?" Your gaze descended to his chest, buttons undone, and a gleaming chain vying for your touch.

"Huh, I... I plan to apply to a university in California. That's the crucial one, although I'll be submitting applications to others as well. Missing this deadline is simply not an option."

He nodded in understanding, skillfully alleviating the awkwardness you felt over your hesitant words. You remained unaccustomed to the unwavering attention he directed your way, where your words and actions seemed to bear a significant weight. He made you feel noticed and appreciated, you liked that.

"Give me a few minutes, and I'll be right back."

That said, he didn't take long to re-enter the room you had left about 40 minutes earlier and resolve your issue. He emerged with a furrowed brow, the self-assured smile gradually returning to his lips as he made his way back to you. It almost felt unfair how swiftly he had solved the problem, but then you remembered that he wasn't known for his friendliness to everyone. You imagined the firmness in his voice and expression as he demanded to know the whereabouts of your documents from whomever happened to be present. A sense of relief washed over you as he asked if this was what you needed and handed you the envelope. With a quick glance inside, you confirmed that your documents were indeed there.

He seemed genuinely pleased to have been able to help, but you didn't quite notice. Your reaction was instinctual as you rose on your tiptoes and let your body collapse onto his, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. He took a deep breath, unprepared for this, but he managed to keep his bag from slipping off his shoulder and circled his arm securely around you. His nose brushed against your hair, and he hoped your scent would linger on his clothes for at least a few more minutes.

It was brief, both aware of the potential consequences of this closeness. You apologized, although a smile remained on your face. He could have frozen that moment in reality, gazing at you for hours, your short shirt rumpled from your previous touch, knee socks slightly disheveled inside your tall boots, while you clung to the documents he had just retrieved. The silence wasn't uncomfortable; it was evident how you found comfort in each other's presence. And he easily concluded that you suited California.

"I need to go," he said, his thoughts consumed with the image of you sitting in his classroom in a few hours and potentially at his home later if you hadn't changed your mind. He didn't want to bring it up, wanting the decision to be entirely yours. If you decided not to show up, he'd understand, and you knew that. You appreciated the pressure he removed from you. His desires were quite evident, and even though you still needed to address the matter of the photo in his room, his intentions were anything but unclear.

…

On that day, you sat a few desks behind due to the front-row seat's creaking issue. Every time he entered the room, your attention soared. You enjoyed admiring how he placed his brown bag on the desk, neatly rolled up his sleeves to the elbows, and adjusted his blazer before starting the class. However, you noticed how his eyes searched for you before initiating this ritual, his face stern and composed, his hand tracing his jaw until he reached the spot where he found you, a few desks back. Your radiant smile met his timid one, and your hands fidgeted with your skirt. At that moment, you both knew that neither of you concealed your feelings well. It was evident in the softening of his expression upon finding you and the shy smile that curved his lips; with crooked lower teeth and cute prominent lines. It warmed your heart.

The following minutes went as expected, with your heart racing when he addressed you, and he posed questions that he was confident you could answer or raise thought-provoking ones. You remained addicted to gaining his favor, even though you no longer needed it. There was no doubt you were his favorite one.

"I think that's enough for today," he murmured, dismissing the others, which included you. Yet, you hesitated to pack your things and leave. You wanted to show him that you still intended to meet him later, fearful that he might think otherwise.

Initiating the conversation didn't come naturally. You leaned against the closed door, observing him tidy up the last of his belongings. You felt uneasy, and he sported a self-assured smile. He was yours, soon you'd gradually become aware of it.

"It's okay, little one. We can stay in silence," he offered, approaching you. Your nervousness was palpable, and you couldn't even contemplate forming words. "There's no one on the other side of the door," he reassured, peering through the small glass window. "I wouldn't force or manipulate you into anything you don't want to do." He was cautious, but the idea that he thought you might think of him like that made you shake your head vigorously.

"I know you wouldn't, Professor Turner." His nose wrinkled slightly as you insisted on calling him that. His cheeks gained color, and you loved that.

You pushed your hair back, trying to clear your head. "I just wanted to confirm that you still want to see me tonight, and also to say thank you for helping me after the bar incident. I don't want you to think badly of me. I—" You paused, swallowing hard. Dry throat, just like your eyes, which couldn't stop blinking. His attention was fully on you, and it didn't help. Seeing your struggle, he moved closer, gently removing your hand from your hair. He whispered while still close, "I don't think anything bad 'bout you, and I'll still be waiting for you if you want to be there."

You nodded, your eyes lost in his, feeling as if you could almost touch his skin without making physical contact. Your hand involuntarily touched the collar of his shirt, your palm pressing awkwardly against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the coolness of his necklace. His fingers followed yours, resting on top of your hand with a pleasant size contrast. Your touch affected his body in ways you couldn't fully fathom, but he was better at concealing it. Your mind briefly entertained the idea of his lips brushing against yours, but this thought was soon supplanted by a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your chest met his as in an embrace, and it lasted long enough for you to feel his fingers below your knee, lifting your high socks until they were even with the other. It sent a great burn through your thigh and made you want to keep him close, but then he was stepping away. "I just want you to feel comfortable with me, pet." Your words once again choked in your throat. You wanted to hear him say he wanted you, but you refrained from vocalizing it, and you understood, but you still longed to hear it from him. Just as you wanted to shout that you felt good with him, despite being a novice in matters of the heart.

…

In your imagination, Professor Turner was someone who didn't shy away from the daylight, and you believed he was just that, even though it was amusing to picture a darker side to him that other students described. When you told your roommate that you wouldn't be back that day, and she suspected it might be related to him, you received a playful, "Take care, don't let him pull you to the dark side." It made you laugh and think about how some of your classmates had asked you to talk to Alex about his grading approach because they had noticed his fondness for you and were in desperate need of a miracle. You didn't think your intervention would change anything, but your curiosity would lead you to take the risk.

The air felt trapped in your lungs, and there was still an alert in your mind that being there was wrong. Students were gossips (your friend even more so), if he had someone, you would know, right?

"I thought you might be hungry," he gestured for you to enter. The same calm and gentleness that always characterized his demeanor toward you, as your roommate had reminded you over the phone just minutes ago. Your mouth quivered, and your hands turned cold as he looked at you. His expression was meticulous, as if trying to read every one of your signals. The sensation within you intensified as you adjusted your knee socks, and his attention followed you until he realized how his hands clenched around nothing. This time, it was you who laughed.

"I wish I could say you don't have to pay for things for me, but honestly, I wouldn't have had the money to come here," you explained, with more than a hint that you might be less financially stable than him. The age difference still nagged at your mind, but you had promised yourself to make the most of this situation. He had covered the Uber ride, just like last time, and now you felt guilty about him spending money on your meal, even though you found it adorable.

He was flushed, certainly not from embarrassment. "It's okay, I don't mind. I want you 'ere." It sounded so formal and yet so natural of him, it made you wonder if he did this often; seduce their own students. It was quite a torment for you to add to your worries, had he ever done that before? And why were you bothered by that? Why did you want to be the only one who had ever gone through this with him?

You only realized that you were standing there staring at him when you felt his hand lightly press your back and guide you to the living room. There were sheets and pillows on the wooden floor rug and the light was dim. He had thought about that and it made your cheeks hot, you were unable to contain a smile. Before sitting down, he took your bag off your shoulders and murmured, "Your thoughts are quite noisy, little one."

He sat next to you, his shoulders pressed against yours. Your legs stretched out and your uncontrollable fingers played with the hem of your socks. You kept your eyes on the orange colored juice and some bread, your belly emptying and your head becoming fuller. “I just,” you looked at him, his messy hair and tired look but still giving you all the appreciation. "I'm not used to it, I guess."

"I'm not sure if it helps you either, but, I'm not, I'm not in the habit of bringing students to my house. You're the first one." You smiled, the weight of your body joining him. Alex noticed you becoming more comfortable and brought his hand closer to yours, then you rested your palm in his; bringing your fingers over the veins and calluses on his fingertips. You bit your lip at the thought of him actually playing the guitars in his room. And then you felt heavy once again at the thought that you wouldn't be able to be present in the moment with him if you didn't know if he had someone else.

You were careful to pull your hands away from his, stealing a piece of bread and pouring yourself some juice. His gaze on you was unmistakable, hard to ignore. Even though you enjoyed it, you felt like you were caught doing something bad.

"You can talk to me," he said, nothing but reassuring. "The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable." And he didn't, it was in your head, and deep down you knew it.

As the orange, viscous liquid touched your lips, you noticed his flushed cheeks going harder, even though he remained confident. It was the same Mango and Passion Fruit blend you had at the campus bar. Your face lit up with a smile, and he wished it could always be like this. "This is almost an obsession." He laughed too, relieved that you didn't think he was crazy for it.

He had indeed asked in the following days what that drink was, and he had learned that you always ordered that, he was just trying to make you comfortable around him. Little did he know that it didn't take much. "I swear my intentions were for the best," he concluded to have succeeded as he held your gaze for a little longer, and then your head rested on his shoulder. Your arm was lazy at first but within minutes, it was around his waist, brushing the top of his pants and then pulling your body closer. You felt the scents mingling, and your head grew lighter. He kissed your forehead, and you closed your eyes, savoring the feeling. Silence was indeed a great friend of yours, something you both cherished.

"Do you have someone?" You weren't as confident as you'd like to be, though you thought the answer was no, you still feared the response. He held your chin close to his, so near that you could see the scar near his eye and the more expressive fine lines. A tear threatened to escape as he appeared puzzled. You didn't like letting him think that you thought ill of him, but you couldn't move forward without answers. "Please, say you don't." Your voice faltered.

He ran his fingers over your face, letting his forehead rest against yours. He definitely didn't like seeing you upset. "I don't have anyone romantically," he chuckled softly, finding it attractive how you nestled into his touch. Even though you were uncertain, you wanted to hear it from him first, and he found that so mature of you. He felt guilty for thinking of it that way, as a warning that this wasn't entirely right.

You nodded, your heavy gaze fixed on him, and yet he stayed with you. "But what 'bout the girl in the photo in your room and the double bed..." Your body tensed, your face pliable in his hands.

Alex felt the weight of it and wanted the words to sound painless for you. It wasn't your fault, and there was an easy explanation; it was a concrete and unchangeable situation, only painful. He held you close when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, with just the right amount of strength, and his chest ached as his own vision welled up. "I don't have her anymore, not anymore," and with that, you understood. His gaze and his voice, the tone of affection, you didn't feel jealous, and in a way, you understood.

Your response was to cradle his cheeks and kiss his face, not liking to see him sad gave you the courage you'd been seeking all along. His arms enveloped you, a subtle embrace, his nose brushing against your thin top, your bodies aligning inch by inch. It felt right, and it didn't seem so wrong anymore.

He chuckled against your neck, lacking much humor. "It's been a while, I'm not trying to replace her or anything." His hand traced his eyes, and you nodded in understanding. You didn't sense that from him. "It's okay, I just didn't expect that and got scared." You whispered, letting your nose touch his while his forehead sweet bangs tickled you. Soon, your fingers were lightly tugging at the nape of his neck, and he didn't avoid your gaze; he only seemed upset about worrying you. Your lips brushed his eyes, tasting the saltiness, making you feel compassionate.

Nevertheless, you let your lips touch his, soft and warm, drawing out a lingering sigh. His grip tightened around you, and with that, your hands went from entwining his collar to pulling him closer, as if you could make it better; you wanted to make him feel great.

He solemnly withdrew from you, keeping you close while planting kisses on your face as he did so. As he pulled back, you realized that your senses were more attuned to him than to yourself. You couldn't pinpoint at what moment during all this you ended up in his lap. You didn't feel bad about it, but you still felt like you should.

"I'm sorry," you began, but he didn't let you pull away from him. He didn't need to explain, but he did it anyway. "I stay 'ere to teach, not because of her. I loved her, and I probably still would, but I'm not bound to her in any way, or sustained by being in love with someone I won't see anymore. I just don't see myself forgetting her entirely after years as if nothing had happened, just as I don't want to make you think this distances me from you or makes you believe I'm trying to replace her with someone else." He was precise, his voice trembling like never before. The coherence as something he had planned to say before hurt you; he wanted to say it but avoided it, and you didn't blame him. "I just want you to know these things." Your response was to hug him, craving the ability to merge with his body. It was dramatic, but you wanted to take some of that weight off him. His broader back, along with the embrace, covered you entirely, and you could feel his breathing calming as your thighs and arms clung to him.

With your head feeling lighter, your face nestled deeper into his chest. Your nose brushed against his neck, his warmth matching yours. The roughness of his baby beard made you smile into nothing. You could swear you felt him shiver. He kissed your face, his lips finding every space from your mouth to your neck, and your jolly reaction was to pull him closer by his t-shirt's collar. Your body burned, in a comforting way, and before falling asleep with him enveloped in you, you thought about how you should have done more or even asked for more. You no longer felt hesitant towards him.

…

Your eyes slowly opened, the lighting still cozy, just like the feeling of his chest. He held you tightly, his chin nestled on the top of your head, making you feel whole as one. As you shifted in his lap, you wanted to squeeze him, feel the flesh of his waist, and unbutton more of his shirt to accommodate your hand. You needed to take a deep breath, unable to avoid the initial sweat on your forehead. He let out a sigh, his fingers tracing your back and holding you as you bit your lip to hide a smile. His dark circles were more pronounced, his skin softer, although his eyes slightly puffy. You snuggled back into him, and he accommodated you, sealing the moment with more kisses.

"I'm sorry, Turner," the muffled laughter left you happy too, not that you weren't already. You ran your wrist over his mouth, he was still fixated on every part of you. In truth, you might not have known what you were doing, or you were just nervous. You didn't want to disappoint him.

"It's okay," he ran his fingers in circles on your waist. Your skirt crept up, and the position improved as he leaned against the wall. You could feel him better, every inch of him, and the thought that you were arousing him made you tense up a bit, even though it was good. He noticed and held your face, his lips touching where you had just tried to dry because you forgot you needed to breathe through your nose when kissing someone, "Hey, it's okay, lil' one. We don't have to do anything you don't want. I like you being with you."

You took his neck, your lips soft and moist, albeit timid against his skin, making him release adorable sounds that made you want more. This caused you to grip onto him, your hips moving closer to his, and you wished he would touch you, even if just for the mere thrill of feeling him.

"Please," you sighed, his face pressed against yours. Your fingers toyed with the closed buttons of his t-shirt as you shifted your gaze to your hands. Alex understood that you weren't entirely sure about what you were asking for, and this sweetly confirmed how much he considered you nothing but a good girl. It was evident that you wanted to be wonderful for him, and it was adorable to see in your eyes how you were eagerly waiting for him to lead the way in this dance of desire.

"I'm all yours, princess." He concluded with a mixture of pet names that both disconcerted and melted you into him. You took a deep breath as the pressure of his large hands adjusted your hips, your knees slightly burning, but you couldn't help but create the necessary friction to feel him better. You could indeed feel all of him, from the light fabric of his dress pants to the zipper, hitting you perfectly. "I know, little one, you're doing so great," he praised, mesmerized by how you lightly closed your eyes and then opened them to him, and he nodded in agreement, acknowledging your success. It was attractive to see you feeling secure and knowing how to make yourself feel good. With your hands still held against him, he intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the remaining buttons to be undone, and then your palm found its place into his flesh.

He held you tighter, your body against his. "Don't move both together, use your legs or just grind against me, or you'll get tired quickly," he sounded precise, his deep and raspy voice filling you up. You obeyed. "That's my good girl," he said in a husky growl. This effectively worked to keep you going with him. His fingers gripped your nape, pulling your head to look at him, gazing down at your sleepy and pleading look. He clenched his jaw, sure that he could surrender for so little. His lips landed on your neck, his nose burying into your skin, so soon his teeth were pulling you into a light and pleasurable bite.

And then you were his, his hands working on you better than your legs were trying but failing to reach that level. Soon, he removed your top with the same gentleness and urgency with which he pulled you to him just to devour your breasts. His grip traveled to your waist, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin, encircling how hard they were and sucking them into his mouth as if it was genuinely pleasurable for him. The tip of his nose brushed against your skin, and he caused pain by nibbling on the flesh ready for him to take. You found yourself liking how every sound you made was heard by him, and he understood every nuance to repeat or intensify whatever he was doing to you.

You fit him well; being with him and having him wrapped around you made you feel confident. You had been embarrassed to be so spontaneous with someone before, but with him, it was different. His calm presence over you, the tranquility and affection, as well as the satisfaction in his eyes and touch when he saw you well, made you want more and more of him and to surrender yourself to him even more.

"You're so delicious," and he meant it. He squeezed you tightly, and you were worried you might have marks afterward. In a way, you liked it; you wanted to see him sprawled over you when it was all over.

And at all times he paid attention to your high socks, fixing them in the right place and smoothing them so they wouldn't move from where they were; keeping them pretty on yourself.

To soothe your whimper, he nestled his thumb against your clit, adjusting his movements until it felt like it was working for you. Alex was flushed, and you wanted to capture the look he was giving you. He didn't feel entirely guilty, but something weighed on him, as if he were corrupting you; the sensation wasn't bad at all. He pulled the flimsy fabric upwards, giving you more traction, lightly laughing at the pastel color and the central bow, knowing that it would haunt his mind for many days to come when he was feeling drowsy. It was magnificent, every detail of you, and he marveled at having your tired and prolonged sighs and teary eyes, just as he always thought they would be when your weak body collapsed onto his in such adorable spasms.

…

Your body ached, but the electricity in you felt good. Your hands ran clumsily through the pleasurable haze. He placed his lips on your forehead, lingering there until your body melded to his like a magnet. "I need to go, but I don't mind if you stay 'ere, lil' one," he sounded even better after waking up, husky and lazy, yet strong. Gradually, you became aware of the fact that you were in his bed, wearing the button-up shirt that you admired on his body. You smelled like him. You remembered him covering you with it, draping your figure while he kissed your collarbone gently. You were so drowsy that you were so certain it had been a dream.

"Go where?" You asked absently, looking around. He pulled up your socks, your legs entwining with his beneath the sheets. He loved this, wanted to have you there forever. You slept so serenely, comforted by his touch, and he thought about leaving you there. But he remembered how scared you had been at the idea of him leaving without notice the night he took you from the bar. He didn't want to cause that in you again, especially knowing he wouldn't be there when you woke up. "I have to teach in the morning, but I'll be back in the afternoon. I don't mind if you stay 'ere if you want."

"And do you want me to stay?" Your lips quivered; you understood his careful approach to your desires, but you wanted to hear it from him without reservations.

"I want you to stay, very much. I still need to read your new work, and I want to hear more from you." Your smile widened, and your face met his neck. He stroked your hair, keeping you close. You had almost forgotten that you had tucked prints of your writings into your bag to leave with him, or to have him read while you waited for his shrewd criticisms. You didn't care as much anymore; you wanted to hear him. You wanted to hear everything he had to say about you, whatever it may be. This thought, combined with the reminder that he preferred printed works over email submissions, made you beam more against him. He pulled you close, looking at you curiously.

"Okay, I can stay here, old man. It's good that I can finish reading the book you gave me." His cheeks flushed, and he got up, making you laugh more and grumble in disapproval. Alex didn't make a fuss and went to the wardrobe, putting on a clean t-shirt and taking off the pants he had worn earlier. He was serene, and he didn't mind you watching, your calm eyes on him, unraveling with each visible patch of skin. You wanted to scream about how everything in you wished this could be your routine. When you looked around, the photo was no longer there, and it didn't seem strange. In fact, you didn't feel jealous of it. However, knowing that he had put it away in another place made you feel good. You thought you might ask him more about it soon; she was important to Alex, and you understood and respected that. You thought it was only fair for him to know you didn't think badly of it.

"Promise you won't be too harsh when reading my stuff?" The buttons were still opened when he turned to you, his eyebrow arched, and his chocolate-colored eyes sparkling.

"I'm not cruel," you huffed, making him suppress a sly smile. "At least not with you." Your cheeks burned. He went into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he grabbed his toothbrush. You followed, sitting beside him on the large sink, attentive to him.

"You know, they told me to ask you to go easier on the students, at least in my class. They all seem to think you're pretty tough," you mentioned.

He chuckled. You liked this, it was intimate and comfortable. His hair was messy, and his shirt was slightly wrinkled; he was perfect. He wiped his mouth and kept his brows tense, "I'm not; the world is just not as perfect as most of you believe, and not everyone is as good as you." He was such a cute old bastard. You arched your brows, mimicking the expression he often made, and he laughed, softening for you. "I won't harm anyone; I just think lower grades make you all work harder." He clarified, placing himself between your legs, and you soon enclosed him in your embrace.

"That's cruel and unfair, Professor Turner." He kissed your face, seeing that it bothered you more than you pretended it did. "You don't have to agree with me, pet."

"And I don't." You sounded more irritated, and he liked that. "It's not very fair."

He laughed, nodding. "Well, know that I'm not going to change." You shook your head but stayed there. You pulled him closer, buttoning up the shirt just as he did, and then folding the cuffs as you had noticed he liked to leave them. He enjoyed that with a great goofy smile.

Briefly, his mind wandered to how he didn't have another place besides there. He might have already renewed the campus contract and then planned for another season in Europe. But for the first time in a long time, he found himself questioning that decision. He could go to other places if he wanted; his qualifications allowed him to move beyond where he was. Basically, all it took was his own mind. So he thought about postponing the decision of whether to renew or not. Things might change.

"Turner, aren't you going to be late?" He snapped back to reality, kissing your lips before he actually heard everything you said. His fingers played with the elastic of your knee socks, tugging gently and then letting go, causing you to gasp in pain against his mouth. "It's funny how you want to punish your students but don't even care about arriving on time." You narrowed your eyes, trying to sound intimidating, but your breath gave you away quite well. "You look beautiful like this." He ignored the irony and felt your legs tighten around him. "In my shirt, princess," he whispered between lip nibbles, amused at how easy it was to leave you speechless. He lifted your hips from the sink, aligning your body better with his.

"I want to feel you, taste you on tongue, princess, is that okay?" His nose brushed your face, trying to soothe you as his hands roamed around you, feeling you tense with nervousness. He loved that. Your lips touched his, with wetter and more intense kisses, and you felt silly when you realized from the way he was smiling that he wasn't talking about that. You swallowed hard and nodded. "I just won't know what to do," you said, feeling dizzy as you held your breath. "Don't do anything," his hands comforted your body, and you leaned in so that he could remove the damp fabric from under his (yours) shirt. "Just relax, don't think 'bout it for now." You agreed, eagerly watching him kneel in front of you.

You did as he said, settling in more comfortably and following his eyes as he spread your legs, playing slowly with your socks before slipping your legs over his shoulders. He kissed the inside of your thigh, his nose diving into the area, and then his teeth nibbled the skin as you gasped. He chuckled with delight. "Are you going to teach me how to make you feel good too, Mr. Turner?" He couldn't resist your sweet voice. He nodded, giving a kiss to your center, your flesh glistening in anticipation. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, princess." And then that new, wet, and firm sensation invaded you, your eyes closed, your lips parted in a brief, silent sigh. Your breasts were highlighted in the white t-shirt, so hard that they were attractive to Alex's gaze from time to time.

Your fingers clutched his dark hair, while his eyes remained closed right after taking a great look at you, and he released such a beautiful prolonged, satisfied groan. The taste made him a little dizzy, but he loved every second of it. "You're divine, did you know that?" You couldn't respond anymore; his nose caressed you, and his fingertips marked your delicate skin. He liked the time he was taking; it was nothing more than his tongue, and he relished the sensation of exploring you slowly. You also liked it, and that was enough for him. He could feel his chin wet and his breath falter, but he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "Don't stop, please." And all you heard was the hum of his confident laughter against you, along with the recent texture of the beard growing, while you only thought about making it easier for him as you spread yourself further and fully surrendered to him. You just knew you would feel the same way tasting him on your lips and tongue.

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams @alexshotelandcasino @tbhclove @rostarblog @babieswiftie @yourstartreatment @atticssmellgood @aacheinthejaw @mingods

tagged only for teacher's pet (the one who asked for and people who asked for the part2) : @thenightslikeawhiirlwind @missbabyjay @kayla1717 @ladydraculasthings @tyatthiapoewy @depthhell @hvncae @raven-ql @kittyrob0t @jakethsims @mayaawesome10 @michelleisheres-blog @love-me-until-ilove-myself @est3va @viviannagiorgini

google forms!¡ (taglist)

Let me know if something is wrong or if you're not comfortable!

Also, I'm taking thoughts/ideas for part3 (it'll be the last one, I promise!)

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner smut #alex turner x y/n #arctic monkeys #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner imagine #fanfic

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ethical-cain-vinnel · 6 months

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NO NUT NOVEMBER WITH RORY CHARACTERS

Pairing(s): Gabriel (2014) x GN! reader, Euronymous x GN! reader, and Jack Thurlow x GN! reader

Tags/Warnings: Pure smut, penetrated reader but no mentions of which hole (so it works for anyone), sub reader for euro and jack but soft dom reader for gabe, slight varg vikernes slander cause as fine as emory is i hate the actual varg, kinda boring sorry :(

Notes: This is a collab with @icarus-star who is absolutely amazing! He’s writing for Danny Cooper, Chris Kenton, and Possum and you can find his fic here! Also, for the Euronymous part I am STRICTLY going off of Rory’s portrayal in the movie Lords of Chaos. I hope they’re not too ooc i really tried to make them accurate

GABRIEL

Okay so I have always felt that Gabe is on the asexual spectrum, specifically demisexual and/or aceflux

In other words, I think that he has little to no sexual attraction to someone he hasn’t formed a bond with. For the aceflux part, I think that he has some periods of times where he feels no sexual attraction at all and has a very low sex drive and other times where he has to go at it at least 3 times a day (and obviously times where he’s in between the two)

So, some years are easier than others and sometimes he can go for months without having to jerk off or have sex but I’m going to be talking about a month where he has a pretty high sex drive

I feel like he doesn’t often participate, but one year, you wanted to try it with him and he agreed

It is TORTURE FOR HIM

Poor boy is so pent up because in the last few weeks of October, his sex drive started to get higher again :(

Within the first few days, he’s so whiney and pent up and all he wants to do is hold your hand and kiss you as you two make love

I think for this year’s no nut november, he lasts a week MAYBE two before hes whining and telling you that you won

He’s so teary when he finally gets inside you and he cums almost as soon as you start moving

He needs you to take control because he gets fucked dumb so quickly

Overall, he doesn’t last long but the sex afterward makes it worth it

EURONYMOUS/ØYSTEIN AARSETH

He usually doesn’t care about no nut november, but stupid varg brought it up to the rest of the inner circle so now they’re all doing it.

On Halloween, he fucks you until you’re both overstimulated and passed out to hopefully make this easier for you both

He goes into it pretty cocky, thinking he’ll win the prize that the inner circle decided on

And he does pretty well

Until midway into week 2

Euro has a VERY high sex drive. Like at least 5-6 times a week but thats on a bad week

He could barely sleep in the same bed as you, your scent instantly making him pop a boner

He NEEDED to feel you again and by tuesday of the 3rd week, hes shoving you on the bed and tearing your clothes off

He fucks you so hard that you can’t walk for a few days and he has to either carry you everywhere or bring it to you

He’s pounding into you and saying the nastiest shit

He’s so mean about it but the aftercare is way better than normal

JACK THURLOW

I know that his fans (me included tbh) loves to make him out as a sex fiend but honestly, I think he has a pretty average sex drive

Out of the three characters I picked, he’s the one making it to the end

He’s only doing this cause he’s curious to see if it does anything (cough cough make him more emotional so he can write kick ass poems cough cough)

He lets you cock warm him on the last night of november

“Quit moving. Only an hour left. Be good”

Once it’s December first, you know you’ll need to call out for work in the morning.

He fucks you at his desk before taking you to the bed

He fucks you until he’s shooting blanks, and even then, he keeps going for 1-2 more rounds

The last week was really hard on him but he didn’t realize until he was back inside you

I genuinely think that he became more insufferable and aggravated without realizing it at the 2 ½ week mark

He takes care of you reaaallll well for the next couple days hehe

#rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader smut #jack thurlow #jack thurlow x reader #jack thurlow x reader smut #gabriel x reader #gabriel #gabriel (2014)#gabriel (2014) x reader #no nut november #euronymous x reader #euronymous x reader smut #euronymous #øystein aarseth #oystein aarseth #øystein aarseth x reader #lords of chaos #lords of chaos smut

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holylulusworld · 2 months

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Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader; Arthur Ketch x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, implied break-up, time jumps, strong reader, Dean being a douche (implied), unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Three months later, London

London in spring was less exciting than you thought. If you explored most of the well-known tourist attractions, it was a place like all the ones you lived in before.

Well, it was a little more British, and they had better tea. Okay, they had the best tea you ever drank outside of Japan. But you couldn’t feel more than resentment against London.

It wasn’t its fault. If you had come here before Dean broke your heart, you would’ve fallen in love with the non-touristic places you discovered on your walks through town.

Like the sweet little bakery called the Dusty Knuckle. You chuckled at the name and were about to call Dean to tell him about it. He would’ve laughed and you would’ve laughed…together soon enough.

That was until you realized that you forgot about reality and the situation you are in.

Well, he would laugh getting to know you signed up for one of their bread-making classes to distract yourself from your messed up feelings.

“How do you like your new office?” Arthur brings you out of your thoughts. Over the last months, he became a confidant. He helped you find the perfect home for you and your baby and made sure that you at least forget about your heartbreak for a while.

Having a man not trying to get into your pants around was refreshing. Arthur tried to be a friend, not your boss. “It’s perfect,” you smile up at him before you turn your attention back toward the newest design. “I like the new design of the car.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Arthur chuckles. “Just like I knew you’d be perfect for this position. I wanted someone with the same passion for cars I share.”

You focus on your laptop and try not to cringe. Dean was the one waking the passion for cars deep within you. You still prefer classic cars, but you want to help build cars for the future.

“Thank you, for everything, Arthur,” you drop your eyes to your middle, wincing as you think about Dean again. He doesn’t deserve one single thought, but it isn’t easy to forget about the love of your life.

“I told you before, there is no need to thank me for hiring you,” Arthur pats your shoulder. “We work together like a well-oiled machine. I have to thank you.”

At the same time, Dean’s office, …

“Dean, I don’t get why you won’t try to find Y/N. She just upped and left that night. I heard her crying in your shared room, but she wouldn’t open the door.”

“She just upped and left, that’s right,” Dean snaps at his younger brother. “He rises from his seat to glare at Sam. “She left her ring on the bed! No note, no reason why. This told me everything I needed to know.”

“Just saying, that’s not her. Y/N would never do such a thing,” Sam interjects. “You know her better than me, but Y/N once told me that she hates unfinished business. She would’ve talked things out if you only gave her a chance!”

“Why are you so interested in my love life?” Dean snaps at his brother. “Y/N left and that’s that. Whatever we had is over.”

“Whatever you had?” Sam huffs and shakes his head. “You wanted to marry her, Dean. Dean Winchester wanted to settle down and have a family. If not for your mishap at the party, you’d be happy with her.”

“Mishap?” Dean splutters. “I don’t remember much of that night. I got a little drunk to find the guts to tell Mom and Dad about my engagement. Maybe I talked a little bit too long with Lisa. That’s all!”

“You ignored your fiancé for your ex-girlfriend, Dean,” Sam makes a face. He can’t fathom that his brother believes he wasn’t in the wrong that night. “You could’ve been happy with Y/N if not for your self-manipulative behavior. We both know you did this on purpose to make Y/N leave you.”

“What?” Dean gasps.

“Y/N was the best thing ever happening to you and you got scared again. So, you allowed Lisa Braeden to be all over you. No woman will stay by your side if she feels unwanted.”

“Leave me alone,” Dean grunts. “It’s over for good. I wouldn’t know where to look for her either way.”

“I can call a friend. He’s a private investigator and could easily find Y/N,” Sam tries one last time to make his brother see that he should do anything to get you back. “Dean don’t lose her out of stubbornness. You were in the wrong.”

“She could’ve stayed and talked to me. Just give up,” Dean drops his eyes to the little black box on his desk. “I did when I woke up to an empty bed, her ring in my hand.”

“I hope Mother is happy now,” Sam snaps at his brother. “She always wanted you to settle for Lisa Braeden, the woman breaking your heart.”

“Sammy,” Dean swallows thickly. “She was my fiancé, not yours. Stay out of my business.” He says instead of asking Sam to help him. Dean is too proud to admit that he’s missing you like hell.

If only he knew why you didn’t even leave a note…

Part 3

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #angst #dean winchester x you

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ilylovelyz · 9 months

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slow burn kiyoomi x reader 🥹

⍣ ೋ what is love?

˚ · . sakusa x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ slowburn, angst w happy ending, heartbreak/rejection, mutual pining, denial is a river in egypt sakusa, slight jealousy and possessiveness, none of these are in order btw, sakusa is such an asshole, this is kinda all over the place </3, literally my longest story ever, my terrible attempt at my first actual slow burn, this is split into two parts because my phone cant handle it, prt 2.

we met for a reason. i'm still trying to figure that part out.

romance is something that sakusa didn't think was necessary in life.

he didn't deem it a serious issue, nor did he want that issue of "falling in love". whenever he heard his friends talking about their girlfriends or just romance in general, he had to hold back an aggressive eye-roll because he didn't see the hype of it all.

too busy with volleyball, he could barely make time for his own friends and family. he was okay with that, he didn't want to be distracted anyways. he didn't need that dumb "romance", he didn't need someone to hold his hand while he cried or whatever.

he didn't need to have someone to love, all he needed was himself, and himself only.

but, he couldn't help those vast, deep feelings late at night. the clock would read a wee time in the morning, but he couldn't sleep. his mind was purged with thoughts, questions, and curiosity.

what is love?

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

he didn't expect his question to be answered so soon.

he remembers it in extreme detail, the day he met you. the air was getting colder, the trees getting more bare and leaves falling with every slight breeze. it was the beginning of his third year of high-school, his last year of high-school. he wanted to savor his last year before he finally graduated into adulthood, often admiring the crunch the orange-brown leaves underneath his feet.

he would find himself taking a different route home, walking through a park with many trees and plants. he thought the view was nice. the park was very popular when he was younger, but now, it was considered unordinary to even see a stray dog walking nearby.

the once beloved park was all but forgotten, giving a nostalgic yet liminal feeling. but it seemed it wasn't forgotten by all.

he was near almost exiting the park when he saw a bench ahead, with a figure sitting on it. the closer he got, did he realize it was a girl around maybe his age. when he was maybe 10 feet away from the bench, did he see that the girl was wearing his school uniform.

he was going to just leave the park, but of course, you heard his footsteps and acknowledged his presence, causing him to halt his steps. "hello! i didn't know that anyone was still visiting this place. you're wearing my school's uniform too! what's your name?" you eagerly said, almost blinding him with your energetic and bright energy.

he wonders how differently life would've been if he hadn't given you his name and engaged in small talk with you. although the conversation was short and almost awkward, he found an odd pleasure talking with you.

from the way he was so standoffish and cold, he, for some reason, thought you wouldn't be there the next day, maybe scaring you off from coming there again. and of course, the next day, you were there. you were sitting up on the bench, almost like you were awaiting him.

once you saw him, you harassed him with more questions and excited small talk, asking him little things and what grade he was in, etc. he was, like always, stiff and almost resistant, but that didn't seem to stop you from trying to make a conversation with him.

it was like that for the next few days, just you engaging random conversations with him as soon as he within 5 feet of you. at the beginning, it was almost exhausting because you were persistent and almost pushing information and communication with him. at some point, he would resist the urge to run away or telling you to simply shut up and leave him alone, or even just wondering if he should go back to his old walking route.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

within a few weeks it was like talking and seeing you become apart of his routine. the weather was much colder, and the days became shorter. after practice, an unaware komori would ask him if he would like to go with him to convenience stores or karaoke, but sakusa would immediately decline. he didn't even think about it before declining, nor did he think of a reason behind it.

to a logical sakusa, the sun was setting quickly now that it was the cold seasons, and with every minute, the air was getting colder, so he had to be quick and walk home. but, to a subconscious sakusa, he was quick to walk home because he knew you would be waiting for him. it would be rude to keep you waiting.

everything was good like that for a while. he came to accept your persistence and conversations, seeing you as nothing more than the chatty person on the bench, at the forgotten park, who has near 10 keychains on her school bag. he found himself conversing with you without a thought, almost talking with you until sunset, sometimes having to run home because he got carried away in conversation with you.

after he acknowledged your presence, he began to see you everywhere at school. whether it be walking to school (after deciding to take the park route for the mornings as well), at lunch, or even in the hallways. as usual, you would smile at him, bright and welcoming as always.

he remembers the day in great detail he acknowledged maybe you were a little more than "the chatty person on the bench, at the forgotten park, who has near 10 keychains on her school bag". it was in mid-november, when they had a particularly good and hard match held at their school. it felt good to win, and it felt even better that they didn't have to travel for it.

it was when he looked at his phone's time, exiting the locker rooms did he realize that he was forgetting something important. he didn't realize what is was though, but he tried to shrug it off by joining komori to go to a convenience store to get some celebration snacks, particularly umeboshi filled rice balls.

it was when he was paying for the snacks did he see a cute pink bear keychain, did he remember what he forgot about. within a second, and almost scaring his dear cousin, did he quickly pay and practically dash out the store, running down the sidewalk to the way to of the park. he ignored the oncoming rain clouds and sounds of thunder, almost slipping and running into many water puddles, almost falling his way down the stairs of the park.

he only stopped running when he was 10 feet away from the bench, chest heavy and rapidly moving as he tried to regain his breath. the sun was already setting, the sky in a shade of bright red to a solemn cloudy blue. he walked closer to the bench, eyes guilty as he took in your rain-soaked uniform and wet hair.

"why didn't you just go home." he asked, though it didn't sound much like a question, more like a demand. you stayed quiet for a minute, and during that minute, did sakusa's mind be purged with similar questions of why didn't you just go home. he just couldn't understand you.

"because i just wanted to talk with you, is all."

he mentally facepalmed at your response. are you serious? his eyebrows visibly cringed, mouth slightly agape at your nonchalant, almost brain cell-degrading response. no way this is real. no way you are real.

suddenly he found himself coming towards you, grabbing you from the bench with your wrist, forcing you onto your feet as he dragged you along with him to walk home. he didn't know where the hell you lived, but that didn't stop him from dragging you with him. on the way, he scolded you so intensely at some point he was just blabbering about how you piss him off so much, and that he just can't seem to understand how stupid you are.

for what reason did you do all of that for?! just to talk? unbelievable.

his almost insulting words and near-degradation just seemed to go in one ear, and out the other though, as you found yourself giggling and making mischievous remarks to his verbal abuse. your non-serious responses without a care in the word just seemed to make him angrier, the veins in his neck almost prominent because he was just that angry.

after a lot of walking around, he somehow found where you live without your help because you seemed to enjoy his suffering, and after a especially crude and almost bewildering response from you did he just have enough of you. before you could even laugh, he was spinning around to face you, grabbing you roughly by your shoulders, and shaking you intensely. almost as if he was trying to shake some common sense into you.

after condemning you to the hell, he roughly shoved two umeboshi rice balls and the pink bear keychain into your chest before storming off home. you ignored the way he basically assaulted you, only smiling at the fact that he had obviously thought of you when buying two umeboshi rice balls. he said it was his favorite food one of the first few times you had talked with him.

walking into your empty house, where you had no siblings, and two very hard-working parents. sitting down onto the floor's ledge to take off your shoes, you grabbed your school bag, adding the 11th keychain to your collection.

you blushed intensely at the seemingly little detail. how cute of him to note your little obsessions.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

yet another day that left sakusa laying awake at night thinking about the day's nonsense. particularly, your nonsense.

he was closing his damn eyes! he was somehow getting a headache from it. the "useful hack" his mother always told him on school nights when he seemed to have a hard time sleeping wasn't working. he found himself sighing in defeat, eyes wondering to the clock besides his bed every 5 minutes or so.

2:44am. massaging his temple, he laid his palm over his forehead. you're going to be the death of him. for the past few weeks, you've been almost plaguing his life. you've plagued his park, his school, his volleyball, hell, even his dreams.

could he even call them dreams? more like nightmares.

his hand traveled down to his mouth, covering it in denial.

his eyes were low with resistance and exhaustion, softly fluttering as he deeply inhaled, preparing himself as he sought out for reasoning and "maybe"s to explain your stupid actions and the way you've become such a distraction to his once peaceful life.

except, there were no "maybe"s. only one truth, that he doesn't want to accept

he let out the breath he's been holding back for the past minute or so for a sigh of defeat. his other free hand comes to lay against his chest, feeling his heart beat rebelliously against his will.

he finally feels the need for sleep, eyes closing to escape from his thoughts. he's had enough for the day. he's had enough. before he lulls asleep, he thinks back to the question he's only asked himself during the similar times when he wasn't able to fall asleep due to mindlessness curiosity.

what is love?

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

the day after that, sakusa hesitantly makes his way to the park.

it's cold as hell, he might have to start taking the much shorter route home, but he knows he won't.

he's slow with his walk in the park, knowing that towards the end, he'll have to pass by you, and engage with you like always. when he does walk past you, you don't engage with him as quickly as you usually do.

he doesn't know if it's because today, the weather is shit, or if it's because he looked almost disturbed at the sight of you after yesterday, or perhaps.. no. he shakes his head at the "maybe"s, it's best to be logical. he thinks that you're stupid enough to not have connected the dots.

he stands, again, away from you, almost as if he's ready to just walk away from you. but today, unlike his usual 8-10 feet distance sway from you, he's gotten closer. he's instead 5 feet away from you, how cute of him to try to try to be closer today, even after you put him through hell yesterday.

he puts his hands into the pockets of his trousers. you chalk it up to him being cold because he wasn't wearing gloves, for a matter of fact, he hasn't been wearing gloves for a while now. he used to have a pair, black, but he seemingly has lost them.

you stay observing him for a minute, eyebrow raised and mouth in a fine-line. he cowers his head into his black scarf, a little nervous due to your sudden stoicism.

you observe him even closer now that he's physically closer to you. he has nice hair, quite fluid and bouncy curls that move with the sharp wind. he has nice cheekbones, nose tall and great. it's cute how his one pale feature are now twinged with a light redness due to the cold.

you think he looks better in the winter, his dark and mysterious aura blends in with the subliminal background. almost like a model. with his dark coat and scarf, he looks snug and cozy, you're jealous.

suddenly, you're smiling at him mischievously. "'omi.." you coo, arms reaching for your school bag. at first. he used to scold you for addressing him by his first name, heartlessly telling you that you're not his friend, and that it's disrespectful not to use honorifics with someone you barely know. but now, he finds himself somehow softening at the nickname you've given him. somehow. but he's more nervous at the way you're smiling at him, smiling at him the way a teacher with no empathy does after they gave their student detention after being late by one minute.

he's prideful at the way he was able to hide he was about to turn blue from holding his breath as he wrote up your unusual behavior as you point out the newest collection to your keychains. "i really like the keychain you got me." you snide.

he silently nods at your words, not unusual due to his quiet nature. "i think it was really cute." you smirk. his head props up at the praise, "yeah, i got it at the little convenience store near the-", "no, i'm not talking about the keychain. i mean, i am, but i thought it was cute that you bought it for me." you interrupt, eyes crinkled up into a silly smile.

"were you thinking of me?" you say, covering your mouth in feigned surprise. his once stoic features turned almost annoyed. he finds that his face heats up, but chalks it up to the cold temperature.

his eyes blink a few times as you randomly start looking through the messy-ness that you call the contents of your bag, rummaging through crinkled up papers and candy wrappers before you seemingly find what you're looking for. with speeds that he swears he's never seen your lazy ass travel at, you whip out a pair of knit thick black gloves, holding it close to your face as you show it off to him before holding it them out for him.

"i made them for you. i noticed you haven't worn your black gloves in awhile, did you lose them?" with that, his annoyed expression soon softens with defeat.

usually due to the short daylight timing now, he would be heading home. the sun is close to setting, and the temperature is only getting lower. but, he finds sighing to himself slowing making his way closer to the bench before sitting down on it for the first time ever in the history of the past four months of talking with him.

you grin at this, mouth opening to start yet another mindless conversation with him.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

"yo, kiyoomi. do you have any plans for this saturday?" komori asks, "me and the team are going to go for karaoke and then something to eat. you should come." sakusa finishes wrapping up a knit black scarf around his neck before responding. "no, sorry, i have plans for this saturday. maybe another time."

komori is disappointed, but not surprised. "what do you have planned?" he asks, curious to as what his introvert cousin has planned. he takes note of the new scarf kiyoomi has, it's quite thick and warm looking. it's then does he connect the dots.

"are you going on a date with y/l/n-san?!" he teases, bringing a hand up to tug on the end of the scarf that was most-likely made by you, as, according to what sakusa said about you during the last family function after his mother pointed out sakusa has been seen "nonchalantly" texting with a girl and was all the sudden curt and annoyed.

it was during then that sakusa had admitted it was a girl, but refused the fact that it was in that way of texting, y'know, talking. but following that statement, he proceeded to privately talk to komori about you after he pressed him more on the matter.

one of the only few things sakusa said about it was him hesitantly muttering "she likes to knit, she's a grandma." before he refused to say anything more. it was only until a week later when komori finally met you after he spotted you and sakusa talking in the hallway.

he slapped his hand away from the scarf defensively. "it's not a date! it's just a casual hang-out." he scoffed coldly, hands trying to fight off his cousin's teasing hands, almost turning into a full-on wrestling match.

"congrats on getting a date!" one of his teammates said as he left the locker room, curly hair distressed from the assault he had just endured. he didn't have anymore energy to reply. he was slightly annoyed at his teammates making a big deal out of nothing. but why was he being so defensive about it? even to himself it was weird. overall, as he said, it's just a hang-out. not a date. nothing serious.

his hands fumbled around in his pockets, clad with the gloves you made him as waited at the intersection. his eyes stared at the road lights, counting down the seconds he could cross before eventually the light that was the pedestrian symbol lit up. he crossed with haste, overtaking those also making their way across. "mama, i'm cold," he heard a child say, clinging to their mother's warmth.

it is cold today. very cold, one of the coldest days so far this winter. he's lucky that you were kind enough to make him gloves and eventually a scarf, thick enough that it might as well be considered some type of cold resistant armor. his gloved hand mindlessly comes up to play with the ends of the scarf, it's become like a destresser for him when in large crowds like these.

he finds his anxiety dissipating as he gets closer towards the park, the crowds becoming more scarce before there's only one or two wondering souls walking around. he eventually comes to the main entrance, to the stairs of the sidewalk that leads into the low elevated park's grass. he makes sure to grab onto the metal handrail as he slowly steps down the now frozen-over steps before eventually stepping into the snow clad grass.

it's now december. almost 5 months of meeting you, and 5 months filled with meeting you after-school at this park. he makes his way towards the meeting spot, thick slow crunching underneath his feet with every step.

he sighs deeply as he sees you from across the field. you're just a tiny dot in the horizon, but he knows it's you. . the serene gentle snowfall and almost all-white background seems to be almost unreal as you sit back on the bench, eyes low and face the calmest he's seen as you wait for him.

you haven't seemed to have notice him yet, you have bad senses after-all. he takes this opportunity to just stand there and watch you, wondering if you'll do anything weird or unusual. but you don't, you just sit there, calm, awaiting him. it's not until the breeze picks up and his time of usual arrival has long passed do you start to look around.

much to your surprise, and for some reason, his surprise, do you finally see him standing 15 feet behind you, watching you.

you fluster and babble out obscenities as you connect the dots and realize he's been there all along, watching you. "you watching me this entire time? that's so rude y'know." you pout, arms crossing with feigned annoyance as he takes his place on the bench next to you.

he softly sighs at your whining, "i wanted to see if you would notice. you're not the brightest bulb out there y'know?" he says for-a-matter-of-fact. you proceed to give him the cold shoulder.. for two minutes before you're switching up your attitude and giving him a bright smile, turning your body towards him.

you ask him a question that you've been asking him for the past few days now.

"let's go to the plaza saturday!" you chatter, eyes wide with excitement as you tell him all the "benefits" of him going to the mall with you. "y'know, we can walk around, look at all the stuff, maybe buy some stuff, eat some stuff, and even go see the big christmas tree they put up!" he's quiet after, eyes looking to the side with feigned boredom.

you whine out defeatedly. "c'mon, omi.." the cry of his name has him softening once again. he was going to say yes eventually, just to torture you the way you love to torture him, but with the saying of his once-annoying nickname you chose for him, he gave in, slumping with a sigh.

"gee, fine. i'll go." he said, eyes rolling at your gleeful shouts. he tunes out your excited talks about what the two of you could do at the plaza when he realized that it's getting dark quicker than usual.

you stop talking when he abruptly stands up. "omi? you're leaving already..?" you cry out, eyebrows arching with disappointment. hands patting the snowfall off his coat, he turns to you. he's for some reason quick to soothe you. "we should start getting home, it's already getting dark. i don't want you walking home alone while it's dark."

you blush at his invitation, "you're walking me home..?" his eyebrow arches as he gives you a questioning look. "did i not say i don't want you walking home alone at night? it's dangerous."

"no, you've said enough, let's go!" you say, a hop in your step as you get up and start walking alongside him.

the walk home was unusually quiet yet peaceful. he walked a few steps behind you, whilst you were peacefully unaware, he was paying close attention to any shadow that moved.

at some point, a guy with a large black hood walked past the two of you, thus sparking a large spike of anxiety within sakusa. suddenly, the lazy walk turned into one of haste as his hands became glued to your back, forcing you to practically speed walk.

"kiyoomi! not everyone is an enemy!" you cried out, almost tripping over your own feet after a particular harsh shove when sakusa decided you weren't going fast enough for his liking.

much faster than to your liking, the two of you made it to your home. "better safe than sorry." he said stoically, opening your front gate for you while his eyes were still wandering around for anymore "suspicious" people. you pouted at this lame attempt of walking home together for the first time. "geez, you're such a scaredy cat." you mumbled.

he found himself lightly chuckling at your words. "goodnight, y/n-san," closing your front gate, making sure it was secure and locked, though, he didn't have much faith in it, as it was a simple stake bed latch. you yelled back a farewell goodnight, looking back to look at him as you unlocked your door before giving him a final smile and stepping into your house and closing your front door.

he stood at your gate for a minute before noticing your bedroom light come on, seeing you peek out the window. "what a creep," he hypocritically said to himself before finally walking back the way to his own house, once again passing by the same hooded guy, watching him with cold eyes.

except this time, the hood wasn't on. sakusa's eyes widened with embarrassment as he saw it was a simple, old frail man, almost old looking enough to be someone's great grandma.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

sakusa stayed close to you as the two of you walked around the crowds of people, making sure not to get too close to them for the sake of sakusa's sanity.

it was saturday, and here the two of you were, at the plaza.

sakusa was not big on fashion, but he did make it a point to not be lazy and at least try to look good. but since it was an outing, he made sure to try especially hard to look good. for some reason, he found himself wondering your opinion on some of his clothes as he picked out what to wear.

he sported a black oversized jacket a grey hoodie underneath and black trousers with white shoes. he made sure his curls looked extra tight and bouncy today as well. he also wore the scarf and gloves you made for him

he was relieved when his efforts didn't go unnoticed. "you really outdid yourself today. this is like, my first time seeing you without sweatpants, haha. oh, you smell nice too! did you get a new cologne?" you praised, hand coming to playfully punch at his shoulder.

"no, i wear this cologne, 'like', all the time, you look.. okay today too." he sarcastically said, pausing mid-sentence to eye you with feigned disgust. while you were whining and insulting him back, he took note of your outfit. you were wearing a beige wrap coat and large fluffy pink scar, with cream pants and white boots. he looked away quickly, looking everywhere but you. for some reason you're hard to look at today.

"so do you wanna eat first or-", before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by a call of sakusa's first name. you turned to see who called, eyes landing on the familiar face of sakusa's cousin, the rest being what you could only guess as sakusa's volleyball team.

"we didn't expect to see you here! what a coincidence?!" one of his teammates loudly boasted. before either of you could realize it, his teammates had practically surrounded him, separating the two of you. he could only quiver and shake with embarrassment as one of his worst fears could ever come to be. you stood there off to the side as you watched as they basically kidnapped sakusa and at the same time, pampered him like some baby.

you didn't know if you should laugh or just walk away. you know how it was for a guy and his friends. go big or go home.

you were deciding whether or not to fake an emergency before komori had suddenly called your name, catching the attention of his teammates. suddenly, you were the one who was kidnapped and pampered as you were bombarded with questions and introductions. you swear you even heard one of sakusa's teammates scold him for keeping a "big secret" away from them.

sakusa was about to proclaim his innocence and state it was a simple hang-out, not a date, before he literally almost snapped his neck at one of his unaware teammates calling you cute. that was his breaking point, as he found himself forcing a barrier between you and his teammates, practically condemning them to hell.

suddenly one of his teammates had the bright idea to bring what he probably thought was the best suggestion ever. "since we are now all here, let's hang out!" like unison, they all agreed as one, excluding a regretful komori and sakusa. he turned to you with a frightful face as you even agreed.

his worst nightmare, come true.

the next few hours were spent dreadfully as his you and his teammates practically dragged him alongside random places. arcades, shops, entertainment, food stalls, you name it, if it existed, it was visited.

"hey! let's go into this souvenir shop!" komori yelled, taking interest in a specific aesthetically-pleasing souvenir shop. "but we aren't even, like, foreigners.. we live here-", he said, trying to disagree before he was yet again dragged in.

he felt himself at wit's end. he just wanted this to be a relaxing day, with no distractions nor faults. he wasn't even able to talk with you that much, as this entire fucking time, his teammates were treating you like some damn celebrity. he somberly walked around the souvenir shop, nothing particularly special or eye-catching.

he was walking with a limp in his step before he suddenly nearly bumped into you. all the sudden, he had no limp and he wasn't dying of boredom. "aren't these cute?" you purred, eyes glued to silver keychains of various designs. he took note of the keychains, some of them gold, some of religious designs, some of animals, some mixed with stars and hearts.

he nodded to your question. "yes, they are." the sweet, finally quiet moment between the two of you was suddenly interrupted by a loud, grating voice of the same seemingly still unaware teammate from earlier addressing you by your first name. "hey y/n, what you lookin' at?" he cheerfully said, clearly not having a speck of awareness.

sakusa felt weird for some reason. almost a bit embarrassed. no, thats not it. he can't quite bit his finger on it. "oh, so suddenly you're on a first name basis with y/n-san? she's your senior, and you just met her didn't you?" he snided, almost growling at his blissfully unaware teammate.

his teammate frowned at sakusa's harsh words, "she doesn't have a problem with it. why do you care?" sakusa found himself almost fuming at that, only calming down komori finally stepped in, overhearing their conversation from nearby.

"hey, kiyoomi, y/l/n, we are gonna go back to the arcade, do you wanna come?" he asked, trying to diffuse the situation. thankfully, you declined his invitation, too fixated in the many keychains in front of you. sakusa happily declined, bidding farewell to his teammates.

as he watched them leave, he couldn't help but be so bothered by the whole situation. hand in his pocket, he frowned at the experience. he tuned everything out, only replying to your questions with short responses.

why is this so difficult? why is he even so mad? he can't just be mad at his teammate like that. but he is. but why? it was just small talk between the two of you. but then again, his teammate doesn't know you like that enough to be referring and talking to you like you're a good friend of his or something.

sakusa himself doesn't even refer your first name without honorifics, and he definitely didn't call you by your first name within three hours of meeting you too. his teammate doesn't know the way you have an obsession with keychains. his teammate doesn't know you like knitting. his teammate doesn't know the first 5 things about you like sakusa does, so he needs to stop with being all buddy-buddy with you.

mid-mental rant, he oddly found his hand coming up to his scarf, intertwining his fingers with the ends of the loose yarn. his eyebrows are furrowed intensely with thought as he tried to figure out whats bothering him.

he's distressed as his fingers fumble with the yarn, mind working as he tries to figure out a solution to this new issue of his.

"omi?" you coo out.

he's quick to look up at you, voice alluring and gentle. "omi, aren't these cute?" he takes a second as he regains himself to look at whatever you're cooing over.

two silver keychains. both imprinted of with a weasel, molded of exact shapes to fit together like puzzle pieces when forced together. little stars and hearts surrounding the weasels in question. two silver matching keychains of weasels that seem to be in love, meant for couples.

"omi?" you say once again, awaiting a response from him. he's yet to respond, eyes slightly wide as he realizes he's found the issue. he takes a minute before he's asking you a question that he's been longing to be answered.

"y/n-san," he hesitantly calls out. you finally look at him, acknowledging the odd tone within his voice. you tilt your head at him, plump lips tilted upwards in a pout.

"y/n-sa-.. y/n.. what is love to you?"

your eyes widen at his unexpected question. you stammer and awkwardly giggle at his question, "w-what?" he's quick to remind you of his question, "what is love, to you."

you blink a few times before your eyes soften and you turn back to look at the matching keychains. "to me.. love is when you just.." you mumble. sakusa cranks his head at that, still quite confused at your answer.

you take his obvious confusion to elaborate further. "..w-well, love can be different for many people. for some, y'know, it could be love-at-first-sight, like they just make eye contact with someone and just fall in love with them.." you check to see if he's still confused and listening before you continue on.

"..then there's unrequited love, which is kinda one sided.. theres platonic love, y'know the love you give to your family. compassionate is when you not only feel love, but also sexual desire. there's obviously self-love. there's also love where it's obsessive, which is less about love and more about control-," mid-blabbering sakusa had interrupted you. "but what is love, to you."

ah. you finally took the keychains off their rack, holding the cold silver within your palms, smiling down at them warmly. "to me, love is when you just adore someone so much.. like you wanna be with them all the time, wanna talk to them all the time. you'll try your best for them, even if they try to push you away. you can't help but think of them constantly, you get reminded of them by the tiniest things ever.." you paused for a second, cheeks a twinge of red.

"some call that unconditional love. when you love them no matter what. 'n omi.. y'know.." you took a deep inhale, preparing to face him. "i really don't know, it's a little too early to say.. but.. i really like you.." you confessed, voice growing meek towards the end, finally shifting your whole body towards him.

only, he wasn't where he was standing a literal five minutes ago. no, you looked around the store, occasionally calling out his name, still holding the two matching keychains within your clenched, nervous hands.

he was gone.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

he was glad it was during winter break did he last see you. he wouldn't be able to face you if he had to see you so soon.

he couldn't sleep, it was now the day of new year's eve. he glanced up at the clock. 2:09AM

for the past week or so, he had you on mute, stomach dropping with guilt every time he saw the many unopened messages you sent him, the last one being sent earlier during the evening.

he brushed a hand through his distressed curls, hoping to alleviate his stress. komori and his teammates has also sent him messages as well, many of which along the lines of "hey, what happened? where did you go?" or even "where are you? y/l/n is all alone."

what made him even more stressed was when the very same teammate from saturday had texted sakusa asking for your number. sakusa didn't even respond to that dumb message.

sakusa sat up in his bed, giving up on sleeping. eventually, he'll have to face you, he can't hide from you forever. forehead crinkling at the obnoxious light of his phone, he pressed a hesitant think to your contact, heart regretting immediately when he saw your texts.

6:54PM omi where did u go?

7:00PM u okay? did u leave?

7:11PM i found komori and the others

7:15PM did i make you uncomfortable?

7:15PM im really sorry if i did

7:34PM ur teammate is offering to walk me home

7:36PM komori is walking me home too

7:36PM ur cousin is so nice! ur teammate is rllly funny too haha ヾ(^ ^ゞ

7:50PM just made it home

7:52PM kinda wouldve preferred if it was u who walked me home haha (≖͞_≖̥)

9:03PM goodnight kiyoomi ´･ᴗ･`

he couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows in distaste at the mention of his teammate, although slightly relieved at komori making so you wouldn't be alone with him. you texted him the day after a few more times after before you stopped texting all together.

the last text you sent this evening was you wishing sakusa a happy new year with a bunch of happy emojis. his felt swelled with what he now knows what he's been feeling these couple months of knowing you. the tender fondness he has for you has him chewing on his lip with anxiety.

before he could stop himself, his fingers began to tap against the screen.

2:20AM y/n let's talk.

with a regretful sigh, he lowered his elbow over his eyes in shame. he relaxed his body, heart steady. only, his heart once calm started to beat intensely once he saw the familiar light up of his phone.

2:22AM let's meet at the park for new years?

this is the longest fic ive ever written and it's only half of it i dont expect it to get a whole lot attention cuz its quite shit my phone is lagging as i write this im splitting it into two parts because my phone cant handle this PLEAE leave a like and repost 😭 prt 2.

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duchess7878 · 8 months

Text

Part 1/2

I saw this request from tumblr user lelandswife and wanted to deliver for you! I hope it’s to your liking :) If it’s too short let me know and I’ll try and write you a longer version :)

Warnings: murder, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome

The family could only watch as Johnny tore apart the house-shouting and screaming about you. When Johnny had gone to go fetch you for supper, you were nowhere to be found. Not in the house, the barn, the shed, the car graveyard. Anywhere. Johnny at first tried to think rationally, but it didn’t last long. Within 10 minutes of searching, it didn’t take much to piece together what has happened. You left. No-you left him. The rage Johnny felt was like no other. People had gotten away before and it only ever excites him, especially for the chase, but this time was different. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

“Nobody escapes me.” He growled and immediately headed out the door in search of you. To Johnny, you were weak and he figured that you wouldn’t make it far before you’d had enough.

Johnny checked around the property for any sign of your footprints. Out by the front driveway, Johnny spotted a small indent in the dirt; one he knew wasn’t there before. He bent down to the print, swiping two fingers across the tracks before smelling it and standing back up.

“I know you’re close my little bunny.” He grinned, bloodlust and lust filling his body simultaneously.

“Why don’t you just come on out and we’ll forget this ever happened?” He lied, but hoping it would work anyway.

He wasn’t going to let you forget. When he got a hold of you, he would make sure that you knew who you belong to and you don’t get to leave. He would tie you down and fuck you for hours until you were begging for him to stop and then he’d fuck you some more. Once he was done, he planned on where he’d be carving his name onto you. Your chest? Your stomach? Leg? Arm? Neck maybe if he was careful? Either way, you’d never forget. Ever. He would make sure of that.

You were crouched down in the shed about 30 feet from where Johnny was standing. You didn’t even make it off of the property before Johnny realized you were gone. You should’ve known better, but you had fallen for him like a complete idiot. He kidnapped you and originally meant to kill you.

This wasn’t a normal relationship by any means. Johnny is dangerous and deadly, but for some reason-you didn’t care. You fell for Johnny not long into your disappearance and for the longest, you didn’t even think about leaving. You were so badly wrapped up in the fantasy world in your head, you didn’t realize you had been gone for almost a year. But it was hard to ignore that part of Johnny when he had come home the night before carrying a corpse, drenched in blood, and wearing the most sadistic smile you had ever seen. The corpse he was holding was another girl your age and it immediately hit you like a train. That was going to be you at first, but something about you was different. However, it didn’t change the fact of what Johnny was-a killer and that’s it. The year that you had spent with him shouldn’t have happened.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts you hadn’t even noticed the jean-clad legs that had planted themselves in front of you.

“Aw, you leaving’ so soon?” He asked, leaning down and grabbing your hair, yanking you to your feet.

“Johnny wait, please.” You begged, tears streaming down my face in fear of what he had planned.

“Oh no sweet pea, we’re going back home right now.” He ordered and continued to pull you by your hair back to the house. Once there, he dragged you inside and up to his room. He wasted no time and shoved you towards the bed and you stumbled back falling onto it. He stalked towards you and crawled on top of you looking down and studying your face.

“You’re gonna be taught a lesson, one that you’ll never forget.” He leaned down and kissed me harshly biting my lip and panting heavily. You felt his hands viciously roaming your torso, touching and squeezing anything he could reach. You heard his bedside drawer open before you felt something heavy and cold being put around your wrists. He brought your hands above your head and chained you to the bed post.

“Get comfortable darlin’. It’s going to be a long night.” He warned, sitting up to begin disrobing.

Here’s part two if you’re interested :)

#johnny slaughter x reader #johnny slaughter #johnny tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw game

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theres-a-body-here · 9 months

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Ghostface with Creep!reader

A new killer has been snatched by the Entity. Something about their cheap Halloween werewolf mask and casual clothing made some of the realms residents uneasy

Was drawn to you from the beginning

Not in the way you'd expect

He was offended

He saw you as a cheap imitation. A copycat

A masked killer that stalks their victims and records their last moments?

You were basically begging to be stabbed

The Entity shut that down real quick before he could push his blade into your liver

He made sure to downright ignore you after that event

That was until he spectated your trials

As the Entity's favorite, he had many "perks". Being able to spectate matches as they happened was one of them

You weren't bad, but you weren't great

He'd grit his teeth whenever you'd prioritize filming the survivors with your video camera instead of injuring them

He'd facepalm whenever you'd swing at a vaulting survivor, only to hit the wall

He needed to intervene

Don't get it wrong. Not for your sake, but for his

Danny hates copycats, but he hates it even more when said copycat is shit at it

Makes him look bad

After your trial, he grabs you by your arm and pulls you deep into the forest

The Entity hasn't stopped him yet, so you guess he isn't trying to kill you again. You let yourself get dragged along

Get ready for a long rant followed by an even longer lesson in stalking

"What the fuck was that? You didn't even bring one slowdown perk. Come on now. If you're going to imitate me, at least do it with finesse." Behind his mask, Danny's lips twisted into a snarl.

You occupied a spot on a toppled tree trunk, engrossed in reviewing recordings on your video camcorder. Evidently, his lecture failed to captivate your attention.

"The Entity seems to be pleased with my performance. If I was doing bad she would've let it be known. Get off my back"

Your voice retained an air of calmness, though the underlying hint of a threat was unmistakable.

Despite how it appeared, you and Danny have started to "hang out" more after that

It usually goes like this: you exit a trial and Ghostface begins to hound you over your mistakes. However, he always gives a few pointers before he leaves for his own trials

He would never admit it, but he slowly started warming up to you

Not even 2 months later, Danny shares his perks with you

"Here you faker. Maybe now you'll finally get more than one kill per trial"

He still criticizes and taunts you as you both sit near the fire with the other killers within hearing range

But it's more friendly than malicious

Amidst the silence around the campfire, Danny couldn't resist taking a playful jab at your looping skills, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, I've seen toddlers with better footwork when it comes to catching survivors."

You shot him a mock glare. "Hey, not all of us can be stealthy killers with years of practice."

A chuckle escaped from Danny's masked lips, but before the moment could settle, Frank chimed in with a taunt of his own. "Yeah, Danny's right. I've seen snails with better chasing skills."

The campfire's atmosphere shifted instantaneously. Danny's chuckles ceased, replaced by a tense stillness. His masked gaze settled on Frank with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those around.

Danny's voice was low and controlled, his anger barely contained. "You've got a death wish, asshole?"

Frank seemed to realize his mistake too late, his face paling behind his own mask under the weight of Danny's glare. He stammered, trying to backtrack, "I... I didn't mean..."

But Danny's patience had worn thin. He stood abruptly, the menace radiating from him unmistakable. "You listen, and you listen well. You don't get to insult them. Only I do."

Frank swallowed hard, his bravado evaporating. "I... I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean anything by it."

Danny's gaze didn't waver, his message conveyed without a need for further words. Frank nodded frantically, looking as though he'd just escaped a close encounter with the Entity itself.

Danny's shoulders visibly relaxed as he resumed his seat by the fire, his attention returning to you. His voice regained its familiar tone of teasing, but there was an undertone of possessiveness. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, talking about how you managed to lose a survivor while they were practically walking backward."

You and Danny didn't exactly exemplify the poster image of a perfect and conventional friendship dynamic, but it worked out well enough

Masterlist here

#dbd x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #slasher x reader #dead by daylight x reader #killer!reader #dbd imagines #platonic or romantic

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stxrvel · 9 months

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calmly, remember: masterlist

welcome to my calmly remember masterlist! i hope you enjoy your ride and if you want to take a look at my other works this is my principal masterlist. thank u all for your support <3.

summary.

you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapters.

welcome home (1)

after a year of you waking up from your coma and spending months in recovery, Bucky had to start dealing with the fact that his wife had forgotten that they were married and even that they'd ever dated, and that the last memory she had of him was the time he'd "accidentally" abandoned her in a remote town because he thought she was already inside the Quinjet.

loneliness is not my thing (2)

you thought you could get used to having Bucky around if he was always going to be this kind and attentive. besides, that part of your muscle memory that remembered him always played tricks on you and you couldn't stop thinking about whether you should ask him out.

greatest fear (3)

Bucky didn't get a moment's taste of what his life was like before the accident with you, when one incident, one question (who are you) and his worst fear turned his world upside down.

and still (3.5)

behind closed doors and within four silent walls, the rest of the team has a rather curious discussion…

isn't it strange? (4)

with your head completely erased of any memory, you're trying to create your life and your identity from scratch when a strange encounter with a man starts an unfortunate chain of events that will possibly end your sense of sanity and reality.

we need to talk (5)

Bucky had woken up that day without it crossing his mind that he would have two talks that would lead him to discover the truth behind the worst day of his entire life. and maybe you were close to finding out too.

what is it with all these secrets? (6)

when it seemed that everyone in the Complex had disappeared, you took some time to discover yourself and discover some electrifying secrets surrounding your misnamed home.

the voices in my head (7)

after a batch of vivid dreams, you entered your own nightmare with an unknown man in an unknown plane/dimension. that voice in your head finally had a face and seemed to have much more secrets to tell you about the people around you than just saying hi...

more to come...

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #calmly remember

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mads198-9 · 3 months

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The Alcott

POV: the WIP made it out of the google drive

Summary: “If he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that could happen to a girl that’s already hurt?” - Lana Del Rey

Warnings: None really, some explicit language though. Just some fluffy angsty dialogue to either help you sleep or keep you up at night. This is my first time writing for Joel (and practically ever) so I apologize if it isn’t Hemingway-esque. This is not edited but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I’m debating a smutty pt. 2 😗

@amydunnewithmen (where the delulus run wild)

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3 minutes.

It had taken Joel all of 3 minutes to set fire to a year of your life. A year of longing, patience, resentment, guilt and every ounce of shame that Joel had clutched to his chest since September 26th, 2003.

It took you over two decades to find an ounce of peace. A place to, finally, let yourself breathe. To close your eyes out of comfort rather than necessity. You’d barely crawled out of the last city you scavenged. A metropolis that fell into a desolate isle. All you’d ever known of people was the way they’d looked with fungi crawling through their veins and seeping out of their orifices. Never a true person. The closest you’d come to other conscious humans were those who had already abandoned their humanity for the sake of surviving. What they didn't realize was that for them to live, they had to give up everything they’d ever lived for. You didn’t consider these men to be ‘people’.

Looking at your facilities it was nothing short of a miracle, it was a miracle that you’d found Jackson. A single woman dragging her depleted muscles through feats of snow, a trail of blood broadcasting your vulnerability to anything within a mile’s radius.

You don’t remember how you’d found it but you remember your pleas. Your claw marks on Jackson’s fortifying wall. You fell to the ground the moment they’d opened the gates. Almost relieved to have had a gun pointed at your head, because at least it was a person. Someone to end your suffering. You didn’t care in what way. A saviour in the form of a man nonetheless, one you’d come to know as Tommy. Tommy Miller.

He was how you’d found Joel. How Joel found you.

It was Tommy who’d found what was left of you, Maria who had housed you, but Joel who’d really saved you.

It started pure. For you at least.

The first you saw of Jackson’s newest constituent was his and Tommy’s embrace. Maybe that’s why you were never scared. Not of him, not of what he'd done, because you saw the best of what he could do. His reason for all that he had done. Family.

You hadn’t felt your heart stop in ages. Up until him, fear was the only thing that had the power to constrict your chest.

No words were spoken between the two of you for months. As the Tipsy Bison’s bartender you were the loosener of lips. An observer by nature, a listener by force, a tolerator of none. His drink order spoke for him those first few months.

Whiskey. Neat. No ice to dull its sting. A welcomed burn to the back of his throat but he sipped it like water. Years of practice of not only enduring pain, but learning to think he’d deserved it.

It was the first thing of substance you’d ever said to him. Your words numbing him like the whiskey in his glass. It took two minutes of silence for him to scrape the floor of the bison with his barstool and drag his ass out of the bar.

You blew it. Or so you’d thought. If anything, you had initiated what would be the most painful and pleasurable experience of your life. One that brought you to your knees in more ways than one. It felt stronger than any romantic pull you’d experienced. Every pace further from him began to hurt. A religion.

From that moment on Joel thought about more than just the glances you’d given. Your perception of him wasn’t wrong in the slightest but it gave him something new to think about. To dwell on and give his fist motivation when the house was silent and his needs too great.

Months of simmering tension and lenghtneing conversations that tugged the corner of his lips up led you to what would become your favourite place. The eventual route of all your pain.

His arms.

Before the age of 25 you’d experienced every horror the world had to offer. You’d spent your life running, burning the memories of your old life with every fire you’d lit to warm your skin. All while everything within you froze with time. You’d never had a moment to explore your thoughts let alone your body.

Joel was the first. In every way imaginable.

Even in heartbreak.

In all of Jackson, Tommy was the one to know Joel best. He’d seen the colour come to his brother’s cheeks at the mere mention of your name and he’d seen the way his eyes bored holes into those who gave the two of you suggestive looks in public.

The jealousy of the men who thought they had a right to fuck you and the envy of the women you ‘stole’ Joel from. The looks of outrage that painted the churchgoers faces chipped away at his resolve every time the two of you were together and only reinforced his shame.

Echoed his anxieties of whether or not he was ‘too old’ for you. Too destructive to be around such innocence. Too hardened by his years alone. How your presumed father issues were the only thing that drew you to him.

The hunter’s voices won out in the end because he lost you, at the alcott.

The last thing he wanted, he’d done to you.

You’d once loved it here. The Alcott. A space delegated to the books that once littered the halls of the ravaged homes across Wyoming. A place that Maria saw as a solution to your lack of a purpose.

Even after everything, you can’t imagine leaving.

You hadn’t left in the weeks since Joel drove a knife through your chest. Weeks you spent curled up in the back of the shop, surrounded by books, their pages riddled with love stories and sonnets, ridiculing you with their happy endings.

Draped in the flannel he’d long left, finding yourself relating to it. At first glance, an abandoned piece of cloth, but you saw it as much more. It was something he no longer had use for. Something he chose to leave. A landmine of memories. Its scent sending you into a spiral with every inhale.

It took less than a day for his resolve to crack and less than twelve hours for Ellie to tell him that he’d been a dick and only six for Tommy to see the change in him. For once in his life Joel Miller was cold. The left side of his bed that once held you now held the weight of your pain, his loss. The shattered look in your eyes as he’d told you to move on painted itself to the backs of his eyelids. His own voice haunting him, telling you to find yourself outside of who you are with him. That he’s too old for you. That you were only a kid and no matter how bad the world had gotten he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

What he didn’t know was that the time spent with him made you feel like a woman, not the solitary girl everyone else saw you for. The days spent with his lips against you were the only times in which you’d believed that your skin was your own.

But he didn’t realize that, or did not let himself because he was bad. For all intensive purposes Joel Miller was a serial killer. A lethal weapon. Nothing that could provide you with the warmth you sought. The warmth he knew you deserved. And god did he want to be the one to give it to you. Joel had spent the last twenty years of his life preserving life, not experiencing it. Hell he still was, patrolling the outskirts of Jackson four times a week. This time taking the long way home just to pass by your house. It was as he expected, as much as he’d kicked himself he knew you, craved you, understood you. So it was no surprise to see no light coming from your house. No noise either. At first he panicked. His mind his own greatest enemy in how it conjured up a thousand scenarios of you leaving Jackson, all ending with your heart stopped and skin blue.

Where on god’s green earth could you have gone. Where you’d never left.

The Alcott.

You hadn’t heard him come in.

“You're still here.”

Questioning you in his thick southern drawl, draping across his words like honey. Damn it. Damn him for still making you blush.

His presence isn’t what startled you, it was the fact that it was Joel. Your Joel, now just Joel.

“I never left.”

He regretted everything he’d ever done to you the second he saw your wide eyes boring into his own. Glossed over in every shade of pain.

He didn’t have to ask why, he was sure he knew, but he asked anyway. Never a man to stumble over his words he could barely get two syllables out.

Looking down to his shifting feet then back to you he asked you what he already knew.

“Why?”

“Because I love this place. What used to feel like our house. Even if it’s cursed now.”

He thought his heart would start screaming with the way it was beating.

“I, uh” clears his throat “I didn't want to darken y’doorstep. Anymore than I already have I’spose.”

“Funny. I’ve had the lights off since you left.”

You practically slurred your words. What was left of you both had been draining you emotionally, in only the 2 minutes he’d been here.

“So… I, uh. I was g’nna ask ya, how’ve ya been?”

Your laugh was as dry as the Texas heat Joel had come from. But less familiar.

“Why are you really here Joel? You’ve always been shit at small talk, didn’t suppose that changed in the last week.”

“Jesus” A week? “Feels like a lifetime since the last time I saw ya.”

“Funny how a ‘lifetime’ is what seemed to be between us. Different generations and all that bull shit.”

“Look kid -”

“No. Don’t you dare call me ‘kid’. Don’t make me feel smaller than I already am. Those people out there may have beaten you into submission but I am an adult. I’ve been one since I saw my first infected. I’ve been on my own and just fucking fine without anybody since I was a so-called kid so I dont want to hear another god damn word. You and everybody else think I can’t so much as cross the street without holding your hand but I've done more than that with less.

You know I survived on my own.

Before you.

And if it’s up to you, I will after, but I don’t want to.

For the first time in my life I got something I wanted, needed, and I don’t want to give it up.

You.

Ellie.

Tommy, Maria, the baby.

Jackson.

Living.

It’s more than surviving.

But apparently not to you.”

“That is not true.”

You didn’t realise you’d stood up until you could feel the heat radiating off of Joel, his flannel, everything.

“Then what is huh? I was a quick fuck. The first wet thing you’d felt in twenty years or what?”

You were yelling at this point and Joel hadn’t moved an inch. Not giving you anything. Not even a response except for the pinching between his brows. And it was killing you.

“You know it wasn’t like that -”

“Then what the FUCK was it if. not. real?!” Emphasizing each word with a pound to his firm chest.

Nothing you said from then on was comprehensible. Just sobs ripping from your chest as you threw your weight into him. Sinking into the floor, dragging him down with you.

His arms shooting out from his sides to enrapture you the second he felt your knees buckle and tears flow. Pulling you into his lap as your body shuddered. Immediately finding the crook of his neck. Inhaling him again. Finally, you couldn’t tell if it made you cry more or less but all you could notice was Joel. All you could feel, hear and smell was Joel. The smell of firewood dotting his skin mixed with the old spice soap he’d managed to scavenge on last week’s patrol. The feeling of giving into his arms again, coming home, and the sound of him cooing, and sniffling?

He’d lost it. Thought he’d lost you and that was his breaking point. Feeling his own tears seep into your hair you knew it was real. You knew he meant everything he’d said back then. Back before Jackson got to him. Before he’d let his own mind turn on him. And as much as it’d hurt then, it felt good now.

“Shhh, shhh.

I gotcha baby. I know, oh I know. More than you could imagine.”

“Please, please, please.”

Holding your face, and your heart, in his calloused palms he looked you in the eye.

“Please what, baby?”

Looking like a doe at his doorstep, your crumpled frame fitting perfectly within the confines of his lap.

“Please don’t leave. Please stay. I tried, I tried so hard to be good to you, for you.”

“Oh honey, you were, fuck you are baby.

The best I’ll ever get, all I ever want.

I’m not leaving baby girl.

Never.

Even if you ask me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

And this time, he didn’t.

————————————————————————

This sounded so much better in my head -

W o w

I actually wrote something… hot damn.

I’m debating a second part?? of smut??

#Spotify #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal #the alcott #taylor swift #the national #joel tlou #joel the last of us #angst with a happy ending

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