#i want to melt into the ground i want to stop existing i don't want a single person to talk to me because i hate everything right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alessiasfreckles · 3 months

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chocolate chip cookies (alessia russo x depressed!reader)

when you quit the team, feeling lost, no one knows what to do, including you. you spend days curled up in bed, alone, until you meet alessia, your replacement, who brings you out of your shell and helps you find yourself again.

warnings: depression is a big topic in this one! no mention of s/h or suicidal thoughts, just overall depression. if you're feeling depressed, don't hesitate to reach out.

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When you tell the team that you’re quitting, the room goes silent. Then someone bursts out laughing. You’re not sure who, you’re staring at the ground, not wanting to look into the faces of your now former teammates. They think it’s a joke. It’s only when you turn around and leave without another word that they realise you’re being serious.

And you are. You've already spoken to Jonas - he tried to convince you to stay, but you’d made up your mind. He told you that whilst he couldn’t guarantee there would always be a spot for you on the team, there’d always be a spot for you at the club. You nodded, thanking him quietly. You won’t be going back, you know that, but it seems unnecessary to make this harder for everyone else.

You don’t go back to the training ground after you tell everyone. You’ve already packed all your things in your car, wanting to make your departure quick and easy. On the drive home, your phone keeps buzzing with messages and calls from your former teammates. When you’re at a red light, you turn your phone off.

You decided to leave a while ago. You’ve lost any passion for the game, and when you realised that you were just going through the movements, you decided it would be best for the team if you left. You were dead weight, taking up a spot that could be used by someone else. Someone better. Someone who cares.

When you get home, you leave everything in the car, even your phone. You go inside and go straight to your room, getting into bed. you’re just so tired. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, feeling slightly more peaceful now that you don’t have the prospect of quitting looming ahead.

You wake up to the sound of someone banging on your front door. Most of the day has passed, it’s getting dark outside. You lie there for a minute, waiting to see if the banging will stop, but it just gets more insistent. You sigh, dragging yourself out of bed and to the front door. When it opens, you see the faces of your teammates. Beth, Viv, Leah, Kim, Katie. The core five. They ask what’s going on, say that they’ve been trying to call you and message you all day. You walk past them to your car, get your phone out, shrug.

“I left my phone in the car,” you say. You watch them exchange glances.

Still, you don’t want to be a bad host. Or a bad friend - if they still consider you a friend. You decide that it’s understandable if they don’t. You invite them in, and they pile onto your sofa. Leah pulls a stool in front of the sofa, telling you to sit down. You sit. Five faces stare at you, expressions ranging from confused to worried to something like anger.

You didn’t mean to make anyone angry.

“What’s going on?” Kim asks, her captain voice on.

You shrug.

“Why would you quit?” Katie asks, frowning.

I’m not good enough, I'm bringing the team down, I don’t care about playing, the team deserves better, you all deserve better, runs through your head.

You shrug.

“Y/n, is something going on?” Viv asks, her voice gentle.

I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore, I just want to sleep, I wish I didn’t exist, life would be easier if I didn’t exist, I don’t understand why any of you are here, why do you care about me, I don’t care about me, I’m not worth caring about.

You shrug, then shake your head.

“I just don’t want to play anymore,” you finally say. You’re not sure if it’s the truth or not. You loved playing, once. You loved the feeling that you got when you were on the pitch, the way it made everything else melt away. But you haven’t had that feeling in a while. When you’re on the pitch, the voice telling you you’re not good enough follows you.

Your former teammates frown. They’re not convinced, and honestly, neither are you. You say that you’re tired, you want to sleep. They get the hint and leave, but not before each hugging you tightly, telling you to call them if you need anything. Beth and Viv promise to bring Myle around at the weekend, and Leah says she’ll come and see you tomorrow.

They keep it up for a few weeks, but the season is starting, and you know they’re busy. You spend your days at home, curled up in bed, cocooned in a blanket. You watch tv and scroll on your phone for hours. You order the food shopping to be delivered so you don’t even have to leave the house. Someone usually visits you on their day off, and the girls message you. You go over to Beth and Viv’s place, cuddle the dogs, watch tv there instead of in bed at home. It's okay. You’re fine. You don’t feel any better, really, but it’s fine.

It starts when you’re forced to go to a movie night. Leah promises it’s just a small group of the girls, she knows you don’t want to be faced with the whole team. She tells you that there’s one new girl there, the new signing, but that she’s really nice. On the day, you think about ways to get out of it - surely Leah can’t just force you to go?

She can and she does. She shows up at your house, tells you that she will pick you up and put you in the car if she has to. You crack a smile at the image. It’s the first time you’ve smiled in a while. Leah notices.

The movie night is at hers. She's picked you up early, and when you get back to her place she sets you to work, chopping fruits and veggies for a snack board. The doorbell rings, the first person arriving. You expect it to be maybe Beth and Viv, who are usually pretty punctual, but it’s the new girl. Alessia. You've seen her in person a couple of times, when the team played against Manchester United last season, but you were already feeling out of it and hadn’t paid much attention to her then.

She comes in, hugs Leah and smiles at you. You smile back. She asks if there’s anything she can do to help, and Leah directs her to some meat and cheese she’s put out that needs slicing. She's been seeing charcuterie boards on instagram a lot lately and wanted to try making one.

“You mean, you wanted to get us to make one for you,” Alessia teases, and you let out a small laugh. It surprises you, and Leah, whose mouth drops open slightly. Alessia doesn’t think twice of it - why would she, she’s never really met you before. She wouldn’t know that it’s the first time anyone has made you laugh in, well, months.

The evening goes well. It's nice to be around the girls. You don’t pay much attention to the movie, your brain feels too foggy to keep up with it. The mean voice returns, telling you that you’re just there because they feel sorry for you. You start picking at your nails.

“I like your nail polish,” Alessia leans over and says to you quietly. She’s sat next to you on the sofa.

“Oh, thanks,” you reply, taken aback. The nail polish is chipped and worn, remnants from Katie coming over and painting your nails a few weeks ago.

“It's a great colour. I like having my nails done but I'm terrible at leaving them alone. I fidget too much and I'm clumsy so I usually end up breaking at least one,” she tells you, looking at her own nails.

You nod, not saying anything. You wrack your brain, trying to think of what to say or how to act. It's been so long since you talked to anyone new that you feel like you’ve forgotten how to be normal.

“Um, you can borrow it, if you want,” you say. “The colour, I mean. I can give it to one of the girls to give to you.”

“Really? That’d be great!” she looks at you with a big smile. You feel an odd sensation in your stomach, like you’ve just had a hot drink and the warmth is trying to spread throughout your body.

You nod shyly, giving her a small smile.

After that night, she starts messaging you. The first message you write off as being about the nail polish. After all, why else would she message you? She keeps going, though. After she sends you a message thanking you for the nail polish, she mentions a book she’s reading. You’ve read it too, so you figure the polite thing to do is to ask her what she thinks of it so far. Then she asks you for recommendations. You’ve been reading a lot, lately, now that you have time. You send her a detailed list, then realise that maybe that’s too much, but you’ve sent it now. She replies with heart eyes and exclamation marks, so you think that maybe it was okay after all.

She asks if she can come over to borrow a book you’ve told her about. After a moment of hesitation, you say yes, she can come over tomorrow afternoon, if that works. You spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying. The next morning you find a chocolate chip cookie recipe. You used to bake a lot, but you didn’t really have time for it anymore after becoming a professional footballer, and you weren’t meant to be eating that kind of thing anyway. The thought crosses your mind as you mix the ingredients that maybe Alessia won’t want any, since most of the team eat pretty healthily. You keep mixing. It’s too late now, you might as well finish making them.

You’re nervous, waiting for her to arrive. You’re not sure why, probably just because you haven’t interacted with her alone before. You’ve put some cookies out on a plate in case she wants any, and you’ve already got the book she wants to borrow lying on the table.

When the doorbell rings, it makes you jump. You open the door and she steps inside, immediately giving you a hug, then quickly stepping back.

“Sorry, is hugging okay? I need to get better at checking with people before I hug them,” she says apologetically.

“Hugging is okay,” you nod, and she grins and pulls you into a hug.

“Oh my god, it smells amazing in here!” she exclaims, looking around.

“I made chocolate chip cookies,” you explain, and brace yourself for rejection. “Do you want one?”

“Absolutely!” she says, and you try to hide the surprise on your face. You offer her the plate and she takes one. When she bites into it, she lets out a moan that has you blushing. “Holy shit, y/n, these are incredible! You really made these yourself?”

You feel that warmth pooling in your stomach again. You nod, smiling shyly.

“You should be a professional baker or something, these are so so good!” she tells you, polishing off the cookie. You can’t help but smile. There are crumbs on the corners of her mouth and a smear of chocolate on her chin.

“You’ve, um, got something,” you say, pointing to your chin. “Right there. A bit of chocolate, I think.”

“Whoops,” she blushes, wiping the chocolate away with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, I have the book you wanted,” you say, figuring that she probably has things to do.

“Trying to get rid of me so quickly?” she asks.

A pit opens up in your stomach. “No, no!” you quickly insist, but she laughs and waves you off.

“I’m just teasing,” she tells you, smiling.

You smile back, but it’s forced. It doesn’t seem like Alessia notices, though.

“You have a lot of books,” she says, eyeing the large bookshelf in your living room. “Have you always read a lot?”

“I used to, when I was little. I didn’t really have time to read as much when I joined the team,” you say, and wince at the mention of your leaving. She’s never brought up the fact that she essentially replaced you, and you don’t want her to.

“I’m guessing leaving the team has given you a lot more time for things like reading?” she asks, and you nod.

“And baking,” you add, not wanting it to seem like you’ve just been sitting at home not doing anything since you left. Even if that is the truth. She doesn’t need to know that today is the first time you’ve baked in, well, years.

“True, that one is very important!” she says, taking another cookie from the plate. “Seriously, y/n, these are amazing.”

She keeps asking you things, about yourself, about books, about your life, and you don’t realise how much time has passed until you look outside to see that it’s gotten dark. She follows your gaze out of the window and jumps up.

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it was! I really should get going,” she says apologetically.

You hold out the plate of cookies. “Want one for the road?”

The two of you message more after that. It’s weird, how easy it is to talk to her. You chalk it up to the fact that she never met you before you left. This is the only version of you she knows. She doesn’t expect anything from you.

A couple weeks later, she asks if she can borrow another book. This time she wants you to recommend something for her, and you pore over your bookshelf for hours, trying to find the perfect book for her. Once you’ve decided on one, the next task you’re faced with is what to bake this time. She didn’t mention anything about it, but after she enjoyed your cookies so much, it feels like it’d only be right to bake something again.

This time you make pumpkin spice cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. You carefully mould little pumpkins out of marzipan to decorate the cupcakes, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride at the look of astonishment on her face when she eats one and lets out a moan at how good it is. She keeps commenting on the little pumpkins, in awe at the fact that you made them by hand, and the warm feeling spreads throughout your body, making your fingers tingle. After she leaves, armed with a new book and two more cupcakes, you get a message from Leah, inquiring about where her cupcake is, and how come Alessia gets cupcakes but you’ve never baked anything for her, and you smile to yourself.

The days in between visits are not as good. You still spend a lot of time curled up in bed. Sometimes, you think about the future, and you usually end up falling asleep trying not to think about it, brain spiralling.

This goes on for a few months. Every couple of weeks, Alessia visits you for a new book and some new baked goods, and every time the two of you spend a little longer talking. You both avoid the topic of you leaving the team and what you’re going to do next. You have enough money in savings that it’s not something you have to worry about, for a while at least, and thinking about it makes you want to cry, or sleep, or just not exist anymore.

One day, though, Alessia is sitting on your sofa, eating a slice of lemon cake, when she asks gently, “What are you doing, y/n?”.

The question is enough to make you burst into tears, tears that you didn’t know you’d been holding in.

“I don’t- I don’t know,” you sob helplessly as she rushes to your side, pulling you into a hug.

“Well, what do you want to do?” she asks after you’ve calmed down a little.

The question makes you stop. You haven’t thought about that in forever.

“All I’ve ever wanted to do is play football,” you shrug.

“But… not anymore?” she prompts you. You can understand why she’d think that. You quit, after all.

“I don’t know. I think I do still want to play, just… not at that level. It was too much. I feel like I-” you trail off, sighing. “I feel like I lost myself. And I still don’t know where I am, or who I am. Everything just feels so hard, like it’s all so much effort, and like there’s nothing I can do to stop it all from happening, like it’s a huge wave and I’m just getting tossed around under the water, barely able to come up for air.”

She nods, not saying anything, and you feel a sudden rush of embarrassment for opening up like that.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I said all that, I-” you say, but she cuts you off.

“No, it’s okay! I asked, I want to know. And it makes sense. A friend of mine struggled with depression a lot when we were teenagers, and-”

“Wait, depression? You think I’m depressed?” you ask, confused. Alessia laughs gently, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Oh, I’m 99% sure you’re depressed,” she says.

“Wha- I’m not depressed,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s not like I want to hurt myself or anything.”

“Okay, but do you ever feel like it would be easier if you didn’t exist?” she asks, and you frown. “Or, like, have you lost interest in things you were previously passionate about? Do you feel tired all the time?”

“Okay,” you say, slowly. “So, maybe I’m a little depressed.”

The mean voice at the back of your mind laughs.

“What if I’m just being dramatic, though?” you ask. “Plus, I have no reason to be depressed. I have a good life, I have nothing to worry about.”

“Look, what if you go and see someone? A doctor, or a therapist?” she suggests, and your cheeks burn at the thought of burdening someone else with your problems.

“No, it’s fine, it’s not that serious,” you say, waving a hand. “There’s definitely more important stuff they have to deal with. I’m fine, seriously.”

She raises an eyebrow but drops the topic. She brings it up the next time she comes over though, and the next, and the next. You think about it a lot.You look stuff up online, look at social media accounts talking about people’s experiences, buy books dealing with the subject.

The next time she comes over, you tell her you’ve made an appointment with a therapist, and she hugs you tightly.

You start seeing each other weekly, after that. Sometimes she’ll go to yours, sometimes you’ll go to hers. She’s on a mission to help you figure out what you want, and nothing is going to stop her. She buys you baking books and equipment, goes to galleries and museums with you, watches documentaries on pretty much everything and anything the two of you can find. When you mention that you’ve been thinking about learning how to play the piano, she helps you find a teacher nearby.

Things are looking up. You still don’t know what you want to do, but you’re feeling better. Your therapist is good, and you thank your lucky stars that you’re in a position to be able to pay for private therapy.

When Alessia rings your doorbell, you don’t think anything of it. You’d planned for her to come over to watch a documentary she’d found about llamas (you weren’t sure what revelation you were going to have about your future from watching something about llamas, but who were you to deny her?). When you open the door, she’s smiling from ear to ear and holding a box.

“I have a surprise for you,” she says, closing the door behind her gently as she comes in.

She carefully sets the box down and opens it to reveal a small ginger kitten. It looks up at you with wide eyes and lets out a small meow, then puts its paws up on the edge of the box, looking out curiously.

“Alessia, what is this? Whose kitten is this?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yours?” she asks, smiling sheepishly.

“What do you mean, mine?”

“I mean, she’s your kitten. If you want her? Oh god, please say you want her. It’s just, you talked about having a cat when you were younger, and how much you’d like to have one again, and I figured they’re a lot lower maintenance than dogs, and-” she’s cut off by you hugging her tightly. Tears prick the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them away fiercely, still hugging Alessia.

A small mew alerts you to the kitten, who has jumped out of the box and is rubbing her head against your leg.

“I have her stuff in the car,” Alessia says, nodding towards the door. “I’ll just go get it?”

You nod, unable to look at anything but the tiny kitten now trying to clamber up your leg.

You’ve been seeing your therapist for about 6 months when Alessia asks you to be her girlfriend. It’s a couple months after she got you Dorothea - Dory for short (or Dorito, occasionally), as you’d named the ginger kitten. You’re stunned, but quickly nod yes as she starts to bite her lip, looking worried at your lack of answer. You hug her, feeling her breathe a sigh of relief against you, and when she kisses you she tastes like the chocolate chip cookies you’d made earlier that day, the same recipe as the first time she’d come over.

Your therapist has been helping you figure out what you want, now that you’re slowly regaining some of the passion you’d lost. You decide that you do still want to do something with football, just, as you’d told Alessia, not professional football. You hadn’t realised how much you’d missed having time to yourself, having other hobbies outside of your work.

You get in contact with Jonas, who puts you in contact with some other people, and before you know it you’re back at the club. Not on the team, you've made it pretty clear that that’s not what you want. Instead, you’re spending the day at the youth program. You already know by lunch time that this is what you want to do.

Before you know it, you’re settled in as a coach for the Academy. Your days consist of working with kids, young people who have the whole world ahead of them. You still have bad days sometimes, where it feels like you can’t get out of bed. On days like that Dory cuddles up next to you in bed, and Alessia holds you close. She moves in after you get the job, claiming it makes sense, since you’re always either at her place or she’s at your place anyway. She insists that she’s still very much a dog person, but you catch her asleep on the sofa one evening, with Dory curled up on her lap, and you smile.

#alessia russo #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo fanfic #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #awfc #also i know this is a pretty 'good' image of depression #and that it's usually much messier than this #but for the sake of the fic i left it fairly 'mild'#tw: depression #hannah writes fics

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peachesofteal · 5 months

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Girl- 😭😭

The soap fic is making me feel things that are new to me. I recently found you and been following you for a whole two days and read every single series you got on here, you’re truly amazing and so talented peachy<3

If you ever decide to continue the soap little Drabble please do tell

-🍅

🖤

18+ mdni / mild dark and twisty / dom/sub dynamic

It’s 0200.

Johnny frowns when he sees the northwest corner window still lit. It's 0200, why are you still in the tech building? Are you working?

It's easy to slip inside. The computer jockeys don't pay attention to their security, they think their key cards are the end all be all. Good thing his works for every door that exists on this base.

He stops to watch you, before making himself known. Watches how your shoulders slump with your posture melted, forehead in your hands. You blink at one of the screens, just barely squinting, quick fingers across the keys in a record time. He knows from your file that you're a bit of a marvel, procured for intelligence from a backwater town in the United States, impressed the brass all the way to the acting director of the CIA. You can do things with computers that would make a civilian's head spin. And yet... you can't get to class on time. Can't remember to eat. Can't sleep through the night. Can't communicate with your peers or superiors effectively. Can't hold still.

He can fix that.

"What's my wee genius up in the middle o' the night?" You shriek at the sound of his voice, whirling in a panic, eyes darting to every dark corner while your hands stick out in front of you. He sighs.

"S-Sergeant." you stammer, and it's so cute, the way you get so twisted up, the way you tremble when he looks at you. He could eat you up. But not tonight. Stepping closer, he can see the stress on your face as clear as day, and it twists like a knife in his gut. He wants to see your other face, the sweet one, the submissive, teary, dreamy, floating face, the one you made after he took the paddle across your ass fifteen times and made you squirm. The face you made when you were out of your body. The face after you cried out your last count, half lost to the pain.

"Ye're done for the evening."

"What? No, no- I... I have to get this done. It's for tomorrow and if it's not done, Chief Laswell will-"

"Do we need another lesson? Maybe one on following orders?" He lets his tone go sharper, rougher, and when you react, eyes widening before they're cast downward, pleasure moves through his body at lightning speed. There it is.

"No, sir."

"Do ye need me to accompany you back to your quarters to ensure ye follow my instruction?"

"No." You glare, and then immediately look away with defeat. "Sir." He motions for you to get up, pulling your backpack from the ground and tucking the thermos and folder from the desk inside, zipping it up and ensuring it's not too heavy before handing it off to you.

"Good girl. Off ye get."

#peaches writes #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #I'm getting too invested in this #johnny soap mctavish x reader #🍅 anon #soap x cypher

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lilacmingi · 11 days

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OPPOSITES ATTRACT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with ne ir any of my works.

Pairing: Gryffindor!Jongho x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 4,408

Note: Final installment in the Hogwarts AU series! If you don’t know, the Hogwarts imagines for the other members are linked at the end! Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

Jongho wizzed through the air, holding the Quaffle close to him as he zoomed towards the opposing team's hoops, successfully tossing the ball through the goal, scoring yet again for Gryffindor.

"Yes!" You cheered only to quickly clamp your hand over your mouth afterwards, your outburst earning you some glances from your fellow housemates.

Maybe next time you should sit with the Gryffindors—then again, you'd stand out like a sore thumb. It was hard not to cheer for Jongho. He's the best quidditch player on the whole team, watching him is enough to put you on the edge of your seat. Yes, you two are from opposing houses, but you're the best of friends and you don't let old rivalries stop you from hanging out together.

The game came to a close and Gryffindor took the victory as expected. You had to keep your excitement at bay as you exited the stands to meet with your friend on the ground, holding it in long enough to part ways with the rest of your house.

Jongho approached you looking oh-so-handsome as usual, a thin layer of sweat on his face giving him a post-victory glow.

"That was awesome!" You squeaked.

"It was nothing." He huffed.

"Nothing? Every time I watch you play I'm on the edge of my seat. Honestly, there was a couple times I wasn't sure you'd score, but you pulled through every time."

His warm laughter filled the air as his cheeks turned pink, though that could have just been from all the activity out on the field.

"You act like I'm the best player on the team."

"You are!" You said enthusiastically, giving him a light punch on the arm. "We should celebrate your victory."

"By doing what?"

"We could go to Hogsmeade and grab a butterbeer." You suggested. "My treat."

Jongho's eyes lit up.

He loved butterbeer. You could remember the first time he tried it, the fond memory replaying in your head.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

That heart-melting gummy smile of his broke out on his face as he nodded.

"Sounds good."

You and Jongho had been friends from day one, literally. You met on the train to Hogwarts and he was nervous as ever. He had only just recently found out there was magic in his family lineage and wasn't sure what to expect at Hogwarts as he had only found out it's existence a few weeks prior to the start of he school year.

"I don't know anything about this place and I'm nervous to be away from home for so long."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. You'll have fun, trust me." You told him. "I've been looking forward to this for a whole year. My older cousin told me they have entire feasts at Hogwarts. There's all sorts of food lined up on these really long tables that stretch across almost the entirety of the room."

"Wow. That sounds much better than instant ramen."

"Instant? Muggles have instant ramen?" You asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. It's not instant, it's just made in a shorter amount of time. We don't have magic so we have meals that can be made easily."

"Ooh. How long does it take?"

"Usually about three minutes unless you want to add extra stuff or cook your noodles longer."

"Three minutes is still really quick." You responded. "That's amazing."

"I guess it is." He chuckled.

Jongho thought so-called "muggle" things weren't special. After all, it's just how he goes about daily life, but seeing your reaction was amusing to him.

The both of you became friends very quickly during the duration of the train ride. You even sat together at the sorting hat ceremony, where you briefly explained what would occur.

"I hope we get into the same house together." You remember Jongho saying.

Unfortunately, you got sorted into different houses, you in Slytherin and him in Gryffindor, but that didn't bother you, nor did it stop the both of you from spending time together.

You and Jongho signed up to take a muggle appreciation class together where you paired up with each other since the professor wanted muggles or half-bloods to pair with purebloods. That was one of your favorite classes. You enjoyed learning about how muggles got through everyday life without magic as well as some of the things they had that you didn't, like pens, you found those to be quite fascinating. Your professor had a few and allowed everyone to try them out to see what they thought. You loved the pen and wondered why the school never used them instead of quills.

"You did so good at the game yesterday." You told Jongho.

He smiled, looking down bashfully. "Thanks."

"You're the best quidditch player at Hogwarts." You continued praising him.

Jongho was visibly holding back a bright grin, doing his best to keep it concealed as he fiddled with the packaging of his chocolate frog he purchased from the candy trolley.

"I get so caught up in the game. I'm sure my housemates want to kick me out." You chuckled.

He had seen you cheering him on many times before, even when Slytherin was against Gryffindor. It warmed his heart that you always cheered for him despite being in opposing houses and seeing you in the stands always gave him an energy boost during quidditch games, but he would never say it aloud.

Once you arrived at Hogsmeade, you couldn't contain your excitement, rushing Jongho off the train. He was fairly excited as well, but he wanted to keep his cool, putting on a calm exterior as he followed behind you through the metal archway with the town name on it.

Jongho's eyes glimmered in wonderment as he gazed at all the shops like it was his first time seeing them.

"Here we are." You announced, looking up at the sign for The Three Broomsticks.

Jongho was quick to step ahead of you and hold the door open. It was a small gesture but it made your heart flutter. Stepping inside the tavern, the both of you made your way to the bar, seating yourselves on the wooden stools that lined it. Someone came around shortly and took your orders before grabbing a couple glass steins, filling them with the sweet amber liquid you and Jongho came for.

"Two butterbeers." The barkeep said, setting the glasses down.

You rummaged in your bag and placed enough coins on the tabletop to pay for the beverages.

"Hey." Jongho frowned in disappointment, his hand halfway shoved in his pocket from trying to dig out money to pay himself.

"It's my treat." You smiled, lifting your stein up. "We're celebrating your big win, after all."

Jongho raised his large mug as well, clinking it with yours before taking a few large gulps of the butterscotch-flavored beverage.

Jongho let out an ahh sound, setting his glass down on the bar top. You chuckled softly at the foam that clung to his upper lip which made him look even more adorable than usual.

"What?" He inquired.

"You've got a little something here." You gestured on your own face.

"Oh." He laughed, his ears turning a light shade of pink as he grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"You got hit pretty hard by that one chaser on Slytherin. I thought you were going to get knocked off your broom. Are you alright?"

Jongho instinctively rubbed his shoulder while thinking back on the moment he got rammed in the side by one of Slytherin's chasers the day before.

"Yeah I'm fine. A little sore, but he didn't hit me that hard. It's nothing I can't handle."

You shook your head and stifled a laugh.

Jongho was a tough cookie and a strong person both mentally and physically, but that didn't stop you from checking up on him.

"So, should we shop while we're here?" You inquired before taking another drink of your butterbeer.

You could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at Jongho's lips. He loved Hogsmeade and always seemed so entranced by what it had to offer. Even after all these years you can still see how mesmerized he is by everything.

"We could... you know since we're in town." He responded.

"Alright. We can go wherever you want."

His face lit up at your offer.

Once your glasses had been emptied and your craving for butterbeer had been satiated, you and Jongho set off into Hogsmeade to browse the shops and see what grabbed your attention.

"Could we go into Spintwitches?" He asked you in an almost unsure manner, but you could tell by the gleam in his eye that he really wanted to go.

"Of course. Like I said, we'll go wherever you want."

As soon as you stepped foot in the sporting goods shop, you could see Jongho's face brighten, his eyes darting to all the different displays inside.

"Check it out." He marveled, scurrying over to one of the brooms on display.

Your eyes moved to the card set up with the name written across it.

"Hogwarts House Broom." You read aloud.

"It's enchanted to display the house colors of the owner." Jongho informed.

"Woah."

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome, isn't it?"

You nodded.

Though you were a pureblood wizard and Jongho was muggle-born, he seemed to have much more knowledge on quidditch than you. He knew anything and everything about types of brooms and what they do, whereas you didn't.

"This one can go up to seventy miles per hour." He pointed. "It's called the Silver Arrow. You see how the broom itself is made to look like an arrow?"

You nodded.

Honestly, you could listen to Jongho talk about brooms all day just to be able to see the enthusiastic expression on his face. Often times you find yourself thinking back on the day you first met him and how nervous he was to be attending Hogwarts. Now, he fits right in.

Jongho continued spouting off facts about each broom while you both perused the store for a few more minutes before deciding to move on.

"Where to next?" He inquired.

"How about Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop?"

He nodded and you both made your way in that direction.

Upon entering the quaint shop, the scent of parchment and ink reached your senses, a content smile settling onto your features. Displayed on the shelves were different quills that ranged in appearance. Some had fluffy, white feathers while others were flat with patterns on them. Your attention was drawn to a stunning peacock quill, the vibrant array of colors piquing your interest.

You had always been drawn to the captivating quill ever since you enrolled at Hogwarts years ago. Though with its flamboyant appearance, you had passed on buying one, not wanting to cause a distraction during class.

"I never really cared for quills." Jongho commented. "They're difficult to use and you have to keep dipping it in ink."

"Yeah, I can't understand why the school would still want to use them when there are things like pens."

"Ah." He chuckled, thinking back on when your professor for muggle appreciation class allowed everyone to try one out. "You were mesmerized by those things."

"How could I not be? They're much more convenient than a quill. You don't have to constantly dip it in ink."

"Stopping to dip your quill in ink seems like a waste of time if you think about how many times you have to do it during one class period." Jongho mentioned.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I didn't even think about that."

A small laugh of amusement slipped out of Jongho as he shook his head. Seeing you getting fired up about pens versus quills was entertaining to him.

Moving right along, you started browsing the parchment and notebooks stacked on a shelf. One in particular had caught your eye and had you walking over to it, picking it up from the stack. You ran the pads of your fingers over the intricate embossed design in the leather of the notebook, tracing the swirls and curls on the cover. You enjoyed journaling and writing down good and exciting things that have happened to you, even sometimes writing down bad things just to vent your emotions. The pages in the current notebook you owned were only halfway filled, so there was no need to purchase the one you held in your hands, but it sure was pretty. Maybe you'd come back for it later when you needed a new journal.

You proceeded to the next display, perusing the items for a few moments before noticing Jongho's absence. He was standing with you when you first entered the store, but now you weren't sure where he had wandered off to.

After searching the shop for about a minute, you found Jongho looking at an inkwell filled with rainbow ink, turning the small glass jar around in his hand with a confused pout on his pretty lips that had your heart doing front flips.

"Do people actually use this?" He asked once you were close enough to hear him.

"Only for fun or pranks. It's not really suitable for classwork."

"Ah." He placed it back on the shelf. "People here seem to love their jokes. Prank quills, prank socks, a prank shop."

"Yeah." You chuckled. "Some people do. You'd be surprised how good business is at Zonko's."

"Are you ready to go?" Jongho asked, looking to see that you didn't have anything in your hands.

"Yeah. I didn't find anything."

"Alright. Moving on, then."

Your day at Hogsmeade was a lot of fun. You had stayed in town so long that you decided to grab lunch. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough and Jongho had paid for your meal, which you shyly thanked him for. At the end of the day, you each left town with a bag of sweet treats from Honeydukes and a new piece of clothing from Gladrags. Jongho found a nice jacket and you managed to snag a pair of pants you had your eye on for a while.

"Thanks for taking me out today." Jongho told you on your walk back to the school.

"It was nothing. I wanted to celebrate your big win, plus I needed a day out. Can't be focused on studies all the time."

"Right." He chuckled.

Once inside the castle, the both of you parted ways to head to your respective dormitories, Jongho standing in the hallway for a moment, watching you walk away.

I should have said something. He thought to himself. It would have been the perfect opportunity. He let out a short huff of disappointment.

Maybe next time.

Jongho took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He had gone over everything at least a hundred times.

"Just say what you need to say. It's no big deal."

Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous and brave, but Jongho was currently lacking that trait. He wanted so badly to confess his feelings to you, but all he could think about was the many ways you'd reject him:

"I only see you as a friend."

"I like someone else."

"I'm sorry. I don't feel the same."

"I don't date muggles."

He groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. It shouldn't be this big of a deal.

If only he had something that could help him out, give him that little boost of courage he needed.

Then, suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. A bravery potion. That's it! He knew how to make that. He just learned it a few weeks ago in potions class. Pulling out his cauldron, he went through the ingredients he remembered were used in the concoction, pulling them out and lining them along the desk.

Less than an hour later, he held a glass bottle in his hands, swirling the liquid around inside while examining it. He had never taken a potion before and was a little nervous, but he needed this. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to confess properly unless he had just a little bit of courage.

"I hope this works." He murmured before downing the potion.

You were walking down the hallway when Jongho came around the corner with a little pep in his step. It was evening and classes were over for the day, so you assumed that's why he appeared so chipper.

"There you are, pretty."

Your body stiffened, your heart leaping at the unexpected nickname.

"Pretty?" You whispered under your breath.

As soon as you were within reach, Jongho took hold of your hand and rubbed his thumb affectionately across your knuckles.

"I'm glad I found you. We need to talk."

"We do?" You questioned. "About what?"

"Follow me."

Jongho led you down the stone corridors of the castle until you arrived at a somewhat secluded area of the school that was, for the moment, free of any students or teachers.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, mildly concerned that he needed to discuss something serious with you.

"You're so beautiful." He sighed out, ignoring your question. "Have I ever told you that?"

Your eyes widened as a faint warmth touched your cheeks. "No."

"You are. Y/n, you are so stunning."

What's with the sudden compliments?

Jongho gazed at you dreamily. "You make my heart race every time I'm near you and when I see you in the crowd at quidditch games cheering for me, it makes me feel so giddy I can't even explain it. Sometimes I wish I could run up to you after a successful game and kiss you. I'd lift you off your feet and spin you around just like in the movies."

"Jongho." You uttered in disbelief.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

You could see the look in his eyes and tell by the way he was sputtering all of these confessions that something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I'm fine." He giggled. "Better than ever."

You pressed your lips together in concern, cupping his cheeks to examine him.

"Please kiss me, Y/n."

You gasped softly at the request, your cheeks set ablaze. Oh how you wanted to give in. You wanted so badly to lock lips with him right then and there, but this wasn't right.

"What did you do, Jongho?" You asked.

"My name sounds so nice coming from your mouth, pretty." He sighed out.

"Jongho."

He giggled in response.

"What did you take?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an empty bottle, handing it to you. You brought it to your nose, sniffing it, the scent of bubblegum reaching your senses.

Babbling Beverage.

"Jongho." You groaned. "What have you done?"

"It's a bravery potion, Y/n. No need to worry." He smiled almost drunkenly.

"This isn't a bravery potion, this is a Babbling Beverage. It makes you speak nonsense."

He scoffed in offense. "I'm not speaking nonsense."

"Come here." You brought him over to the corner of the secluded hallway, so you'd have a little more privacy.

"Are you mad at me?" Jongho asked.

"No, but why did you do it?"

"I wanted to confess to you but I was too scared. Isn't that silly? You told me Gryffindors are brave, and I usually am, but not today." He rested his head against the wall. "I needed something to help me so I brewed a bravery potion—or at least I thought it was."

"You... wanted to confess to me?"

"Yes. I like you so much, Y/n. You're so beautiful and funny and kind and you made me feel so welcomed on that very first train ride to Hogwarts. You were the first friend I ever made."

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words. Though he was under the influence of a potion, his words seemed genuine.

Jongho took his bag off, letting it fall to the ground as he stepped closer to you.

"I want to kiss you so badly." He murmured.

"I'm not sure that's a good ide-" Your sentence went unfinished as he gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Staring into his captivating eyes, you found yourself wanting to give in, your gaze darting down to his pouty lips and imagining how soft they probably felt. Having his face so dangerously close to yours had you wanting to throw caution to the wind.

"Can I?" He asked.

The tone of his voice was so soft yet temping at the same time. Without mulling it over any further, you nodded.

Jongho didn't let another second pass before his lips landed on yours—and yes, they were soft. Right away, you reciprocated his actions, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

His fingers released your chin, moving to the back of your neck to pull you even closer, the action also causing your lips to press further into his. You could feel every dip and curve of his mouth, the sensation making your closed eyelids flutter. Your hands, which had been balled into fists at your sides, latched onto his shoulders, staying there for only a few moments before your fingers slid into his hair. Jongho's arm snaked its way around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You gasped at his action, noting how strong he was and how tightly he was holding you against him with just one arm.

It was clear Jongho was starting to get comfortable as his kisses got more heated and somewhat sloppy. He began nipping lightly at your bottom lip, letting out quiet sighs when your nails grazed the nape of his neck.

"Keep doing that, pretty." He exhaled against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine and a rush of butterflies to your abdomen.

You boldly grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it an experimental tug, a quiet groan from him vibrating against your lips immediately after. His hand that was cupping the back of your neck dropped to your waist, squeezing your hip tightly. He then took a step forward, backing you against the stone wall behind you.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamt of this." He murmured, placing a kiss on your jawline

Heavy breaths escaped your lips, your chest heaving up and down while attempting to catch your breath. You had no idea Jongho could kiss so passionately... or boldly, and you were pleasantly surprised by this discovery.

"You're not the only one." You confessed.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze.

"I'm not?"

"No."

Jongho knew when you kissed back that it more than likely meant you felt the same about him as he does you, but hearing you practically confess had him reeling. He wanted to hear more.

"It's probably obvious at this point, but I'm head over heels for you, Jongho."

Still under the influence of the potion, Jongho blurted the first thought in his head.

"I love the way you say my name."

His lips were on yours again, hot and heavy. His kisses were desperate and fast-paced, making you weak in the knees. The Babbling Beverage made one speak nonsense and didn't have an effect on how they kissed, so this was all Jongho.

Your fingers curled around the collar of his robes, fisting the fabric in desperation while he practically devoured you.

It was at that moment, your foot bumped something on the floor which caused you to part ways. Glancing down, you found Jongho's bag that had been discarded only a few moments earlier lying on its side with something sticking out of it.

"What's this?" You asked, reaching for the object that had fallen out of his bag. It was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around the it, a sprig of lavender tucked into the bow knotted neatly in the middle.

"Oh." The look on his face told you that it was something you weren't supposed to see.

The effects of the potion seemed to be wearing off as he dropped his head into his hands, letting out a groan of frustration.

"I was supposed to give that to you first, before I confessed." He grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.

When he lifted his head, he saw that you were smiling.

"You got me something?"

"Yeah, but I messed it all up. I had a plan. Give you the gift, then confess. That stupid potion." He muttered the last part.

He only wanted something to give him a tiny boost of courage and instead he made the wrong thing and made himself babble like a fool. Then again, he did have an incredible makeout session with you, so did everything really go wrong?

"Here." He picked up the item and handed it to you.

You carefully took the gift from him, running your fingertips over the lavender.

"You wrapped it yourself?"

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

Plucking the sprig of lavender out of the twine, you undid the knot and pulled back the wrapping. Inside was the leather-bound journal you were admiring at Scrivenshaft's��just a day ago.

A quiet gasp left your lips. "How did you know?"

As far as you were aware, Jongho had been looking at inkwells when you were perusing the journals.

"I saw you eyeing it in the shop." He responded, holding back a grin, clearly proud of himself.

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

"Thank you." You embraced him in a one-armed hug. "Also, don't worry about how things went today. I think everything turned out perfect. And if I'm being honest, I really enjoyed that little kiss we shared."

"Little?" He raised a brow.

"Okay, not so little."

"I'd be happy to do it again." He grinned, leaning forward only for you to press your finger to his lips, halting his actions.

"Maybe later. I heard some voices down the hall a few seconds ago. Don't wanna get caught."

He pouted, his pillowy lips pressing against your index finger. Unable to resist his puffed out cheeks and pleading eyes, you let out a short sigh, caving immediately.

"We can go to the library. We're less likely to get caught there."

Jongho nodded vigorously in agreement, taking your hand and pulling you down the corridors towards the library, eager to lock lips with you once again.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny

#jongho x reader #choi jongho x reader #jongho x you #choi jongho x you #jongho x y/n #choi jongho x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez hogwarts au #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios

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jayden-writes · 5 months

Text

respite

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

wordcount: ~0.8k

genre: fluff

cw: none!

summary: a serene evening with Lucifer

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // based on this drawing I commissioned from @stulili // AO3 // thanks again to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

“Come on now. Don't be shy,” Lucifer said, his hand stretched out towards you expectantly, a soft melody filling his bedroom. It was rather late in the evening and you had spent most of the day with him, taking advantage of the fact that he had taken a day off - for the first time in who knows how long; he was wearing those sweatpants you had gotten him once half as a joke, even if only in the privacy of his room.

“You know I can't dance and I don't want to step on you,” you rebuffed him, but he refused to be deterred by that.

“I am perfectly capable of leading you. Besides, I assure you that I can handle a few missteps here and there,” he pointed out while he watched you, his expression and posture relaxed. A satisfied smile tugged on the corners of his lips when you eventually relented, and he guided your palm up to press a kiss on your skin, causing your cheeks to heat up. He settled his free hand possessively on your waist, and you rested yours on his upper arm, keeping a small, yet comfortable distance. Both of your socked feet were moving silently, and your eyes were fixed on the wooden floor as you struggled to keep up and at the same time not step on him.

“My eyes are up here, dear,” he teased you after a few minutes of silence and slow movements - his were practiced and cadenced, yours were clumsy.

“Well, I don’t want to step on you”, you reiterated, feeling embarrassed by the obvious difference in skill between you and him.

“You won’t,” he reassured you softly, “at least try not to look down so much and relax, just exist in this moment and let go. You will do fine, I promise.”

You huffed quietly and kept staring at the ground, your brow furrowed with the effort of not misstepping. Without a warning, he snaked his arm around your waist until his palm came to rest on your lower back and he carefully, but assertively, pulled you closer to him. For a second, your already unpracticed steps faltered, though miraculously, you didn’t tread on his feet. Out of instinct, you wrapped an arm around his torso to steady yourself and he continued to guide you, unperturbed by your blunder.

“H-Hey!” you stammered. At that, he chuckled affectionately, thoroughly enjoying having caught you off guard. He nuzzled your hair with his nose, his breaths gently tickling the top of your head and you shuddered a little, goosebumps forming on your skin. Being pressed flush against Lucifer allowed you to feel the rise and fall of his chest, the familiar heat of his body seeping into you. With your ear resting right above his steadily beating heart, you finally let yourself relax a bit more and trust in him.

He led you a bit longer until gradually, he became slower, coming to a stop, and the two of you simply stood in the room, holding each other. Lucifer let go of your hand and cupped your cheek instead, tipping your face upward to meet his gaze.

“I love you,” he whispered into the small space between you, his garnet-red eyes brimming with warmth as he regarded you tenderly and you felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach. No matter how many times you had heard these words from him, it still made your pulse race and your knees weak.

“And I love you,” you muttered in response, closing the remaining distance. When his warm lips met yours, he tightened his grip on you marginally, pressing you even closer as if he never wanted to let you go and you let him, melting into Lucifer’s all-encompassing embrace.

After a few moments you pulled away, needing to catch your breath, and he used the opportunity to press light kisses on the corner of your mouth, cheek and temple, making you giggle. He laughed faintly, placing his lips on your forehead, then he withdrew, taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles as well. The flush on your face grew more pronounced and you sheepishly averted your gaze.

“Now, now, none of that,” he murmured, tilting your head back towards him with a delicate grasp on your jaw. “There you go, that’s better.”

Lucifer looked at you, his eyes crinkling as he smiled fondly, pecking your heated cheek once again before pulling you with him to his bed. Lying on the mattress, he tugged on your hand until you laid down next to him, and almost like it was second nature to him, he wrapped his arms around you to draw your body closer to his. You nestled your face into the crook of his neck, the skin cool against your blush.

He hummed contentedly, tucking your head underneath his chin while he held you securely, tangling his legs with yours; there was no way you could move away, even if you wanted to.

There was nowhere else you’d rather be.

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scatorcciogf · 1 month

Text

let the light in

¬ summary: spider!lottie saves you from a criminal. established relationship but reader doesn't know she's spidey yet :) ¬ warnings: cursing, gun mentions (nothing happens), slight violence + injury. gn!reader ¬ word count: 2.5k.... i swear this was supposed to be a drabble

it’s a quiet night tonight.

well. as quiet as it can get in the city that never sleeps. but you’re not necessarily in the city — you’re on the outskirts, waiting for a bus back home — so it's way calmer. you were visiting a friend, got a little carried away (see: watching three bad horror movies instead of just one), and now you're definitely gonna have to wait a while until you can catch a ride to the city.

you sigh, sitting down on the bench. you wish you had lottie there to keep you company, but she had to stay behind and study for an upcoming biochem test. you curse her for being such a responsible student and you curse nyu for existing, and then you take out your phone because you should probably shoot her a text.

at the bus stop now :) see u soon, you write.

you don’t expect her to reply quickly, considering that she usually leaves her phone in the other room when she wants to focus on something. you’re surprised to see her read it immediately, type for a few seconds, then disappear again. you’re about to ask her about it when she calls you instead.

“hard at work, i see.” you say in lieu of a greeting, and you can almost hear her eyes roll.

“i’m taking a break. don’t be a brat.”

“why’d you call?”

“i wanted to hear your voice. i miss you.”

you chuckle. “it’s been, like, six hours. you’re ridiculous.”

despite your teasing, you think it’s cute — and she knows that. she knows how easily you melt at her sweet words and soft smiles.

“well, i also wanted to talk with you while you wait. you know, make sure you’re safe. i don’t like the idea of you being out alone so late at night.” she argues.

“and that’s very sweet of you,” you say, smiling. “but there’s literally nobody here. you don’t have to worry about me, you should go study.”

she groans. “but this lesson is so boring. and i’m only revising now, anyway. it’s not that important.”

“lottie.”

“fine… but if you get kidnapped, don’t blame me.”

“as if you could do anything about it all the way from our apartment!”

“i would think of something.”

and you open your mouth to tell her to just go already, but your words die in your throat as you feel something hard and cold pressed against your back. the next voice you hear comes from behind you, not from the phone, and it's much deeper and rougher than your girlfriend's.

“hang up. right now.”

fuck. did you accidentally manifest getting kidnapped? you're frozen in both fear and indecision, bar your shaking hand. was that a gun or a knife? you want to tell lottie to call the police, but you're also afraid of what the man would do to you if you did. what if he kills you anyway? fuck, fuck, fuck.

“baby?” you hear her confused voice at the same time as he shouts: “i said now!”

you want to tell her you love her before you end the call, fearing that you might never get another chance, but you find yourself too paralyzed to speak. instead, you press the button and drop the phone, hearing it shatter as it hits the ground. you know she knows anyway.

the man speaks again, and you realize his voice is muffled by what must be a ski mask. “give me all your money. come on.”

you shake your head, eyes welling up. “i don't have anything on me, i swear.”

“don't make me hurt you. just give me your fucking wallet.”

“please,” you somehow manage to say as you show him your pockets are empty. “i already told you, i don't have my wallet with me.”

“and i don't believe you. what about your bag?”

you feel your heart rate picking up as he gets more aggressive in both his tone and actions — you're going to have a bruise with how strongly he's pressing his gun to you. if he doesn't actually pull the trigger, that is.

you slowly reach for your bag. you really don't have anything valuable in there, besides headphones and a water bottle. maybe he'll be satisfied with just that if he's particularly thirsty.

you open it up and shift it vaguely towards where he's standing. “see? no money. please just—”

you're interrupted by a sudden thwip sound behind you. weird sound for a gun to make, you think, before you realize it's not the gun that you heard, but rather what grabbed it. a thin, but seemingly firm, spiderweb-like fluid, swiftly tugging it towards—

spider-woman. holy shit.

“have you ever considered getting a job? it's this thing where you contribute to society and get paid, instead of mugging innocent people at night.” she says, tossing the gun aside.

your mind is still racing, but you have the common sense to step away from the guy. it's only when you turn to look at him for the first time that you realize he doesn't need a weapon to be able to hurt you — he's massive. and now, it seems, pretty angry too.

“not you again,” he growls. “mind your fucking business.”

she jumps down from the tree she was in, elegantly landing a few feet away from you. her gaze doesn't leave him, however.

“the safety of people who live here is my business.”

he scoffs. “what are you gonna do, then? arrest me?”

“something like that.”

he lunges towards her before she can make the first move, looking ready to strangle her. she's too quick for someone like him, though, and she dodges every punch he tries to throw her way. you assumed she'd immobilize him with the web or something, but then again, what do you know. maybe she's just too busy trying not to get beat up.

they spar for a minute or two, the guy holding up better than you thought he would. you should probably run away or call the police (scratch that, she just stepped on your phone and you swear you heard a crack! in between all the grunts and hits), but you're so captivated by the whole situation that you can't look away. it's not every day you get to see spider-woman up close.

she kicks his side and manages to shoot the web into his eyes while he's catching his breath. he winces and swears loudly, stumbling back. he's scratching at it, and you can tell it's very tough to get it off.

“oh, fuck this!” he exclaims before she can do anything else.

still functionally blind, he starts running away, slamming against you in the process. he's clearly not impacted by it because he just continues running off, but you are. it was too forceful for you to stay on your feet, and in a flash, you're on the ground, dull pain in your head from hitting the bench.

“ow…” you mumble, reaching to touch the back of your head.

you feel blood under your fingers. great. you think about telling spider-woman to call the ambulance before she goes to catch the bad guy, but she's hurrying towards you before you even have to ask. you can't see her face, but you can tell by her voice that she's worried.

“are you okay?” she asks. “oh, god, is that blood?”

you hum in response, starting to feel a little dizzy. your eyelids suddenly feel heavier, too.

“no, no, don't pass out. talk to me. what do you feel?”

you blink a few times, trying to stay awake. “i don't know… i feel dizzy. and in shock. and it hurts.”

she sighs. “i know, but you can't fall asleep, okay? please. you'll be okay, i just have to get you to a hospital.”

“aren't you going to run after him?”

“that guy? no, i'll just find him later,” she turns to look at your bag. “do you have any tissues or something? we should apply pressure to— you know.”

“no,” you shake your head. “it's fine, i'll just…”

you try to get up, but you soon realize you didn't just hurt your head. you feel sharp pain in your ankle, too. you're not entirely sure you could stand up if you tried.

spider-woman notices, and she seems even more concerned. “it's not fine. i'll carry you.”

“you can't exactly swing around if your hands are occupied.”

“then i'll walk,” she retorts, inching closer so she can look at your head. “are you sure you don't have anything we can use for that?”

“positive.”

she looks back into your eyes. “you're bleeding a lot.”

she's still for a few seconds. you wonder if she's finally considering the logistical nightmare that would be carrying you to a hospital. you wonder if she's just going to give up leave you there, bleeding and unable to move.

then, she takes a deep breath and removes her mask, pressing it firmly to your wound, and you wonder if you've gone insane, because the eyes you make contact with are lottie's, and there's no way that isn't a hallucination, right?

you don't get the privilege of processing this information, though, because the pressure is painful and makes you feel lightheaded again, and soon enough, you pass out.

— 🕷 —

your eyes sting when you finally open them. it's too bright in the room, both because of the sunlight and because of how… white and clean everything is.

so she did get you to a hospital.

you sit up, beginning to register the dull pain that's still present in the back of your head. you look around, and there she is — curled up on a chair beside your bed, blissfully asleep. you smile at how cute she looks, but then you remember last night, and your smile is replaced by a tight feeling in your chest.

she can't actually be spider-woman… right?

you clear your throat, not really willing to wait to find out. you hope the conversation you're about to have will be less confusing than the thoughts floating around in your head.

“lottie?” you call out.

her eyes immediately snap open, then widen when she realizes you're up. she shifts in the chair, clearly nervous.

“oh my god, you're awake. how are you feeling?”

“i'm fine.” you pause. “how are you feeling?”

she seems to stiffen. she just looks at you, as if she's trying to think of what to say.

“you know, since that guy got in quite a few punches.” you add.

she sighs, looking away. “i thought you were already passed out when i… when i took off the mask. your eyes were already closing.”

it's a confirmation, and you're almost surprised that she didn't try to act confused or change the subject. but it's lottie, and she's never been good at lying to you.

(despite the fact that she hid her superhero identity from you for the whole duration of your relationship. although, in hindsight, there were a couple of times where it was your own fault you didn't connect the dots.)

you shake your head. “no, i saw you.”

you can’t really read her; the look on her face — is it shame or relief? maybe it’d be easier to tell if she just looked at you, or said something. anything but the uncomfortable silence filling the room right now.

“i’m also fine,” she says after a few moments, “knuckles were a little bruised but i heal pretty quickly.”

you nod, relieved to hear that, ignoring how surreal everything about this is. you’re not sure which is harder to process — the fact that you had a gun to your back or the fact that the person who saved you from getting shot was spider-woman, who is actually your girlfriend. your chest feels heavy again. she finally looks at you, and you open your mouth to ask her something, but you both speak at the same time.

“how did—”

“i’m sorry for—”

“you can go first.” you say, offering a small smile.

“i’m sorry i never told you. i wanted to, but it’s just… difficult to get the words out. i didn’t want you to worry, either, that’s the main reason. you already have enough on your plate.” a beat. “but now that you know… it’s fine if you want to break up. i lied to you, and i know it’d be stressful knowing this, so.”

your eyes widen. “what? lottie, i’m not gonna break up with you.”

and, well, you’re pretty sure the look on her face is relief now.

“no?” she asks quietly, and your heart breaks a little as you realize she fully believed what she said.

“no, of course not. oh my god. come here.”

you shift a little to the side so she can sit next to you, and she does, albeit a little hesitantly. you pull her closer, enjoying the warmth as her body presses into yours. you slide an arm around her waist and pull her in for a gentle kiss, before putting your head on her shoulder.

“are you sure you’re not mad?” she asks.

“i guess i’m more in shock than anything else.”

she tenses a little. “i can’t believe this happened to you. i’m so sorry, i should have stopped him, i…”

“lottie.” you look up at her. “you did what you could. which, speaking of, how did you get there so quickly?”

she grins. “i have my ways.”

you roll your eyes, then close them again, burying your face in her shoulder. a few moments pass where you’re just holding each other in silence, and if you hadn’t just woken up from a coma, you would fall asleep on the spot. as it is, though, you just sit there, breathing in her perfume.

“does anyone else know?” you ask after a while.

“not really, no. i didn’t want anyone to get wrapped up in this.”

“really? i figured you’d have laura lee as your sidekick or something. you know, have her pray for you every time you go out to do your thing.”

she laughs. “i didn’t think of that. it’s not an entirely bad idea.”

you weakly slap her on the arm. “hey, no. i’m helping you now. i won’t tolerate competition.”

“helping me? you don’t plan on getting a costume of your own, do you?”

“mmm, i was thinking more along the lines of patching you up when you get home. i like seeing you shirtless.”

she grins and pulls you in for another kiss, a little less gentle this time. she slides her arms down to your waist and you let her press your bodies together as tightly as physics allow, melting into her. you still have a lot of questions — both about the life she’s been leading behind your back and the life you two are going to have from now on — but they can wait. for now, you’re content with just getting to kiss her senseless until a nurse comes for a check up.

#💐 — fluff #🩹 — angst #lottie matthews x reader #charlotte matthews x reader #yellowjackets #spiderlottie au :D #if u want any sort of continuation of this pls lmk!!!! it's a really fun au

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louissatturi · 7 months

Text

For the new ordem fans that are scared for saturday, this clip is from the last death we had in ordem paranormal, in a season considered a comedy

Enjoy and also spoilers for sinais do outro lado

[TRANSLATION]

[Cellbit]:"rip out the oral muscular organ" and roll for damage right away, two d6

[Guaxi/xande]:Seven of damage and... i don't know how i will rip out my tongue, i dont know

[Cellbit]:You can narrate however you want

[Guaxi/xande]:Alright is just that i dont have any knifes can i rip out pushing it out?

[Cellbit]:You can use your theeth

[Guaxi/xande]:Alright, that's it, i put my tongue out and i Bite it

[Cellbit]:Just one (bite) isn't enough and you start to chew your own tongue

[Guaxi/xande]:And crying a fuck ton

[Cellbit]:And groaning in pain it's terrible

[Guaxi/xande]:Alright

[Cellbit]:"kneel"

[Guaxi/xande]:I fall (in my knees) like this

[Cellbit]:Describe for me the whole scene, how do you do all of this things? And how is xande is feeling with witch of them?

[Guaxi/xande]:I'm- I, fuck, in this moment i... fuck, im thinking about them men, the image of them is in my head and all the time i'm thinking "for them, for them" and then i start to hit myself and comes some memory of us together having fun

[Cellbit]:Describe to me the exact memories that are passing thru your mind right now

[Guaxi/xande]:Oh of us having fun on the tents, me and lírio and guizo together, us in other missions gettint to know each other.. AAH stop doing this with me bro, so humiliating and.... dara a lot of dara, looking at dara and imagining her well and stuff and missing that

[Cellbit]:"Attack yourself"

[Guaxi/xande]:Alright, one more atacck (roll)?

[Cellbit]:Yes and discribe that to me

[Guaxi/xande]:I-I'm not even caring about the pain, of course it is happening but-

[Cellbit]:Is gushing blood (out of xande's mouth)

[Guaxi/xande]:Yeah but bro, i keep hitting(myself) and the symbol- can i make that your little pin falls on the ground? And i look at your team's pin again and.... nine (of damage) and thinking about them still and looking at it fixedly

[Cellbit]:Discribe one espesific scene that is going thru your head now

[Guaxi/xande]:Us in the Van listinting to some music all of us together

[Cellbit]:"Forget It" you don’t remenber of that anymore

[Guaxi/xande]:Alright...

[Cellbit]:"Attack yourself"

[Guaxi/xande]:I reseted it (His HP)

[Cellbit]:You see the creature, flooting imposingling in front of you, you are kneeled bleeding, you can't speak you are only groaning of pain the blood runing down your chin, It raises it's fingers and touches your head, everything (inside) you starts to destroying itself, fadding, from the inside, you forget everybody that one day you ever knew,all of whom you loved one day, all the places you ever saw, all the tastes you ever feelt, all the songs, the faces all of it is burning around you, you forget yourself, your name, your soul, you are empty, you are nobody. Your skin starts to heat and you feel your blood boil and transforming from the inside, your sking gets a greenish tone and your blood is pumping acid, melting your flesh from the inside, your bones start to dissolve and not-exist, you can't feel anything, you are anything you are empty, you aren't even understanding what is heppening with you the only thing that passes thru your mind is that whoever you might have been before forgeting,must have been a horrible person because that's the worst punishiment that somebody could ever recive, your empty remains finish fadding away on the floor into a pound of flesh, acid and forgotten memories, you are dead xande

#this is was the most dificult thing to translate fuck #he was only 18 #Jesus #ordem paranormal #ordem paranormal quarentena #ordem paranormal sinais do outro lado #sinais do outro lado #aop #sdol #opq #cellbit #guaxinim gamer #guaxinim #xande #xande sdol #sdol xande #alexandre

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writing-house-of-m · 8 months

Text

Late Night Confession

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: You are happy to see Natasha before she leaves again

A/N: I really did try for comfort but I don't think I executed it well. For those who look at it - here is the request. Comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated!

Prompt: "You wanting me tonight, feels impossible."

It feels as though it has been years since you have seen her.

Natasha's hands are all over you, in your hair, pulling you impossibly close as her desperate lips devour yours. The familiar taste of vodka is prevalent on her tongue, it all feels too good to be true.

You sigh and catch your breath, feeling so overwhelmed after not being touched in so long, as Natasha moves to your neck giggling at the effect she has on you.

Hiding away from Tony's party with Natasha pressed against a wall is not how you expected this night to go. Not that you were complaining, it was just very unexpected.

The vibrations coming from your throat tell Natasha you are speaking but she doesn't stop until your words register in her mind.

She looks at you concerned, "What did you say?"

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should make something up, just so you could feel her lips on you again.

Sighing, your gaze falls to the ground. You know telling the truth is easier because she will know you are lying, "You wanting me tonight, feels impossible."

Natasha raises your head so she can look you in the eye, "I don't know where this is coming from Y/n, but I will always want you."

She says it in a way that makes the rest of the world melt away. No one else exists except the two of you in this huge building. All your worries and doubts fade away along with the music being played in the distance.

'I love yous' are exchanged and Natasha kisses you again but this time slower and longer. Pouring all the emotion she can to show just how much she loves you.

So you enjoy the time you have with her before she disappears again.

…

You startle awake, gasping for air. You feel around your bed for your anchor to hold but all you are met with are cold sheets.

Tears fill your eyes when your brain catches up to the reality you have been so cruelly thrust back into. All the memories rushing to the forefront of your mind.

Dreams with her occur often. It is usually the wide-eyed look she gave you before she descended and disappeared from your sight down the side of that mountain.

It haunts you, not just at night, but everyday since she has been gone. Almost ten months of life without her but still when you are doing the most mundane of tasks it creeps up on you.

Your throat constricts when the image stays stuck in your mind. You press your hands to your eyes which does nothing to stop your tears from falling as a sob escapes your lips.

Even though there is no one there to hear you, your voice croaks out into the dark room, "How do I do this without you, Nat?"

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff angst #black widow x reader #black widow fanfic #black widow imagine #black widow angst #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu reader insert #self insert fanfiction #fic #1 year celebration #late night confession

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circyexistforcontent · 1 year

Text

DRUNK SNUGGLES WITH GOD READER

❀ synopsis- Diluc watches behind the bar counter as their Millenia old lover drinks liquor like they're going to die tomorrow. Basically a Diluc x Reader.

❀ pronouns- none specified

Diluc wonders if Gods have some sort of special connection with wine, or any sort of alcoholic drink that exists. Have the archons maybe inherited their drinking habits from you? He sighs as he hands you another glass of dandelion wine, watching as you giggle at the sight of melting ice.

It was a few years ago when you descended back to Teyvat, festivals have been a regular occurrence when you so much as step foot in another nation. Your acolytes have been trailing you with their tails tucked between their legs, and panic when you disappear from their line of sight. Their behavior was suffocating, so you would sometimes sneak away from your chambers and shapeshift into a civilian.

That was how he met you, when you had too many drinks you accidentally shifted back to your original form when Diluc was going to kick you out of the bar. He let you sleep in his room that night and the morning after he was on his knees begging for your forgiveness. These meet-ups soon became a routine, when Zhongli wasn't looking you would teleport to a secluded area and shapeshift to a civilian and visit Diluc at the dawn winery.

He knows he should stop you soon, he wouldn't want another accident to happen because you drank a little too much. He didn't want Dawns Winery to teleport in the middle of the ocean again just because he left you unsupervised. It was a long process to make you sober enough to fix the problem and you'll try not to cause more accidents. So when you were in your 20th bottle he approached you.

"Your grace, you are drinking too much again," Diluc said as he gently took the bottle from your grasp. You just continued giggling, doodling smiley faces with the puddle of wine on the counter.

"No, I'm not~ I only drank a few glasses." You said as you try to sit up from your chair, only to fall face-first on the ground. Diluc immediately helped you up from the floor, slinging your arm over his shoulder as you continue to laugh through the pain.

Diluc could feel his heart quicken its pace when you lean into him for support, he could feel your hot breath brush at the back of his neck. All his childhood, he has been taught that you are the divine creator, a god above all gods. But seeing you in this state almost makes him believe you are just another drunk yard.

But he knows better, he had the privilege to talk to you casually every time you visit the winery. You were eloquent with your wording, each word that came out of your mouth was spoken with grace. He could feel the kindness seeping out of your form whenever you talked about the people of Teyvat.

He was taking more than he should from you, from talking freely with you to touching you and leading him to sleep in his room. He knows this would be heinous in the eyes of your other followers, goodness knows what your acolytes will do once they discover this. But he allows himself to indulge in his selfishness.

He gently lays you down in his bed, placing some blankets on your form. He was about to leave before your weak voice was heard across the room.

"Love? Is that you?" You tumorously ask.

"Where are you going?" Diluc was confused. Love? Did you think he was your lover? Did you use to have a lover?

"Love, please stay with me. We don't spend as much time together..." You weakly said, trying to get out of bed. Diluc quickly made his way towards you, stopping you from leaving.

"Your grace please don't stand up, you'll fall over again."

"I already told you not to call me that Love." There you go again, calling him that pet name.

"I'm not your lover, your grace." He simply said. You wrap your arms around his own, pulling him as close to you as possible.

"Don't be like that Love, I know it's you. I can tell it's you with the way you look." You twirl his hair with your fingers.

"The way you talk." Your fingers brush against his lips.

"The way you breathe." He can feel your breath brush on his ear, sending a shiver through his spine. He can feel his mind get drunk at the sensation, his vision feeling hazy.

"Sleep beside me Love, it's been a while." He snapped out of his trance as he looked at you like you just grew several limbs.

"Your grace you know I can't-"

"Why not?" You ask innocently, tilting your head. How can he explain to a drunk god that he can't sleep beside them? He knows he's indulging in his selfish desires, but to sleep beside the divine creator would be blasphemy. He wouldn't dare to do such an act.

"You're being too tense, it's not like we're gonna do anything." Before he can refuse you toss him over your shoulder as he fell to the soft cushions of his mattress. You snuggle next to him before he can quickly leave, burying your face on his shoulder.

He can feel his cheeks bloom a shade of pink as he struggles to escape your grip. All you did was giggle as you start to pepper his face with chaste kisses. After a few attempts of leaving he submits to you, deciding that this was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

He leans into you until both your foreheads were touching, he can smell the familiar scent of dandelion wine coming from your lips. Without realizing you slowly shifted back to your original form, and your [H/C] locks slowly appeared back. His breath hitched, you were beautiful. Seeing you like this feels illegal.

But then again, he broke the law before. What's the difference now?

"I miss being here with you..." You said breathlessly, playing with his red hair as he hums in response. He closes his eyes to relax, enjoying the tranquility of the moment. You closed your eyes as well, letting the familiar sensation of rest engulf you.

#🍒sagau #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin self aware #genshin cult au #sagau diluc #diluc x reader #sagau headcanons #genshin sagau #sagau diluc x reader #sagau #genshin impact

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 7 months

Note

Hii I loved your Alec fan fic sm any more Alec x f reader smut coming ?😭

Come As You Are

A/N: of course more Alec is coming, I just need time love. This one is for my midsize girlies ❤️

Summary: The Reader is feeling insecure about herself and Alec wants to help

Tags: 18+ minors dni, insecurity and mentions of body dysmorphia and self hatred, praise kink, body worship, consensual possessive language, and some fluff :)

The woman in front of her was thin and tall, with a beautiful head of curls and dark skin. Her eyes were shrewd as they took in DS Y/N Warner, standing in her frumpy suit with a notepad at the ready. Yet she certainly didn't look poorly on DI Alec Hardy, not that he would have noticed her little flirts. She angled her hips one way, answered his questions primarily, and smiled widely at his words, always looking right at him. If Y/N wasn't careful and reminding herself that she was on the clock, she had half a mind to kiss Alec right there and claim him. But she didn't.

DI Alec Hardy went to the car, and Y/N lingered for just a moment to clarify one of the points that got fuzzy.

"Right, and you work for Joan Topper Model Agency? Not to be confused with Topper Jane's Agency?" Y/N asked, checking the reference she had from the lady who'd referred them to this woman.

The woman nodded, her lips close to a sneer, "it's a very elite agency, Joan Topper."

"I'm sure."

The woman cocked her head to the side, "are you?"

DS Warner swallowed hard. She did not like not liking other women, it made her feel like a bad feminist. She should overthrow the ideas of women hurting other women and focus on the more particular idea that men made it up to make women dislike one another. And while that was very likely, it wasn't impossible for two things to exist at once. Men try to make women hate each other, and some women are just bitches. Not because they're women but because they're people.

And this woman, who couldn't possibly be over 21, with her gorgeous figure and curly hair, just happened to be one of those special humans. And it irked Y/N.

"You can't be over a size 4," the woman pressed. It was unclear if she meant you couldn't be over a size 4 in the agency, or in life. Her eyes lingered at Hardy's retreating form. "Men don't like it much."

DS Warner smiled tightly and nodded, walking back to the car and quickly getting in so she wouldn't have to see that woman again. Alec didn't notice the change in Y/N's mood, he wasn't always the best at that.

Instead of going to the station, they went back to Y/N's house. Alec hadn't actually moved in, but that was more of a title really. He stayed there nearly every night, had a section of the closet, and referred to it as home. They both knew that once they wrapped up this case, they would set aside a weekend and officially move in, but when cases got busy neither felt they could take even a day off. Work got in the way like that.

"Right, I'm going to pop in the shower then I'll be down to help," Y/N said, toeing off her shoes at the door.

"M'kay," Hardy answered with a wave of his hand, files in his arms.

She went up to the loo, started the shower and made quick work of her uniform. Her image in the mirror made her stop.

Normally, people described the moment before a shower as some of the most attractive. Moments when all of a sudden insecurities melt away and you could spend ages doing dance battles with yourself. This was not one of those days for Y/N. Maybe it was the insecurities she already had buried beneath the surface, maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the woman who had subtly insulted her appearance, but whatever the cause she found she hated what she saw.

Y/N always felt a little trapped when she expressed her insecurities to friends. She couldn't say she was thin, because she wasn't. But she couldn't say she was fat, because she wasn't. She was an awkward middle ground that certainly didn't feel sexy. Her thighs touched when she stood, covered in little stretch marks and led to a small bush she tried to trim but it always looked wrong. Along her boobs there were stretch marks like purple tiger stripes, and she had small red bumps she couldn't explain. Of course in between the two lied the worst of the worst, a belly just bloated enough to look pregnant when she very much wasn't. Nope, Y/N was not a fan of this body.

Her cheeks flushed with emotion and the heat of the shower, and she tried to ignore it as she got in and scrubbed off the day. Her hair was clean so she left it up and tried to calm herself when she noticed her efforts were too harsh. God damn it, this was not what she had intended.

Not long after she joined Hardy at the kitchen table, sipping her hot chocolate he'd made, and pouring over the case files. Her mind began to wander but she was intent on stopping it.

"You alright?" Alec's thick Scottish accent broke her from the bank's reports, and it was among the first words he'd spoken all evening.

"Y-yeah," she said, not quite knowing what he was referring to. "Why?"

"You don't seem right."

Y/N didn't know how to respond, so she shrugged her shoulders, "I'm ... fine?"

He narrowed his eyes. Alec Hardy felt like he was in a bit of a limbo at the moment. His instinct was telling him that something was bothering Y/N, she seemed sad and distant. However, Alec was not known for having the best instinct with people and their feelings. He couldn't tell if he should leave it or press on. But it was DI Alec Hardy and he wasn't a fan of lying. "After that last interview you've gone funky."

If Y/N wasn't so uncomfortable trying to think of how to not expose this lame part of herself to Alec, she'd have focused on him using the word funky. "I didn't like her much."

"Did she say something?"

"More or less."

"Warner stop evading the question and tell me what's wrong." His voice was intense as he spoke, chocolate eyes imploring.

"I don’t like my body, I'm ugly," she said quickly, as though it would take away everything else.

Alec blinked, "wot?"

"I'm ugly and fat, Alec."

DI Alec Hardy did not know a lot of things. He was shit at expressing emotions and understanding others, he did not understand social media, thought scotch eggs were gross, had a temper, and was shit at accepting help. But he knew one thing. His Y/N was not ugly.

"No you're not." She laughed bitterly and looked away. He said it louder, his tone more stern. "Y/N you are not ugly and you're not fat."

Y/N's throat was tight as she said, "thanks Alec." She didn't mean it, they both knew she didn't mean it.

"Y/N-"

"It's fine, can just get on with it?" She snapped, her voice a hair away from a yell. Alec saw her retreat further into herself. "Sorry."

He sighed, closing his eyes to try and make his thinking clearer. Alec was proper rubbish at dealing with any of this. But then he had any idea, an idea she probably didn't expect. The detective stood up and walked towards the stairs.

His ever inquisitive Y/N craned her neck to watch as he went up the steps. He was impressed she managed to last a full minute without following after him, in which time he removed his jacket and shoes, before she appeared in the bedroom door frame with a questioning look on her face.

"C'mhere."

She did, though her steps were slow as she watched him with a shrewd eye. He took her hands in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. Alec's hands were always calloused and he never knew why, as he didn't do much physical labor. She liked how they felt.

Alec brought her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss on each of them, "I love your hands."

He could see the little flush on her cheeks start up, but she didn't say anything else. Alec went to the edge of the bed, bringing her to sit between his legs, his chest up against her back. His hands ran up her arms, "I love that when I do that you get goose flesh."

"Alec what're you doing?"

"You've got lovely arms, lovely shoulders." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin of both. Then Alec pointed a finger in front of them, towards the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. They painted a lovely picture, a woman held by her man as he lavished soft touches on her. He planned to make the picture prettier. Though he wasn't always confident in sex, he was confident that he loved Y/N and that her self image was wrong. And that confidence overrode all other feelings of inadequacy.

"Alec..." she didn't know what to say. She had a feeling she knew what he was up to and she didn't know if she could handle it. He was being awfully sweet. And the scratch of his beard made her sigh. His fingers came to the straps of her flimsy, pajama tank top, pulling them until they snapped back on her skin.

In the mirror, Alec glanced up and made eye contact with her. His face was kind, tired but not of her. His hair was dark and mused, his eyes so chocolate it hurt to look at. And his freckles, the most wonderful part of the man was the freckles that ran along his face as though he never left the sun as a child. She nodded slightly, knowing that he was asking for permission.

The straps fell down, and Alec pushed the top down until her breasts fell from them, heavy and heaving against her chest. Almost instantly she felt a growing hardness against her bum, and she flushed incredulously. His hands came round and held her breasts, letting them overflow in his touch.

Throughout their entire relationship, Alec was not one who would just speak. He was the silent brooding type. The kind of guy who grunted when he asked if he fancied a pint - the answer was always no, he didn't drink. But Alec knew Y/N loved his voice, she called it sexy and he'd caught her getting off to a voicemail of his once. Whenever he got loud in the office, had to yell at someone, he noticed the way her thighs would clench and her cheeks flush. So while he was most certainly clunky at it, he tried his best to speak through his thoughts for her, hoping it could help her get to him.

"They’re one of my favorite bits of you," he murmured, his voice suddenly throaty as though he was struggling to speak with the sight of your breasts out and about.

He pressed them together, showing the deep line of her cleavage. "Don't get that on just anyone, now do ya?"

Y/N wanted to believe him, to look in the mirror and see a creature that was as attractive and he believed, but she just couldn't. Her words were soft but they were there as she said, "I have stretch marks and bumps."

Alec's brow furrowed and he held her chest tighter before letting them fall back. He was fully hard now and didn't shy away from letting her feel the affect she had on him.

"No one can expect your skin to remain the same your whole life. Doesn’t make it ugly." He said, kiss the junction between her neck and shoulder. She leaned her head back into him, letting herself feeling those beautifully calloused hands as they teased at her nipples, those soft lips kissing her skin.

He slowly dragged the tank top down until it met the waistband of her shorts. She did not look down to see the image in the mirror, this was not the body part she wanted to see. His hands were featherlight as they travelled down her abdomen, running his fingers along the rolls of her skin. The thought alone made her want to cry. Alec let out a breath, "you're so fucking soft."

That was not quite what she wanted to hear, soft wasn’t a word she felt was a good thing. Though that hadn't been his intention, Alec thought soft was one of the best things a body could be. He tried again, bringing his hands to her hips, "I love your belly. It's cute."

"It's not sexy."

"Fuck yeah it is," he argued. Alec pulled away from her and went to kneel in front of the bed. He spread her legs and went on his knees, putting his face right at her chest, which he noticed right away. Hardy brought his hand to her face and made her look at him, and he blew out a breath. She was a vision, leaned back, heavy breasts on full display and legs spread like a goddess.

He pressed a kiss in between her breasts, letting his tongue nip out to taste her skin. She giggled and said, "Alec!"

He brought his mouth down to her stomach, kissing each roll and holding her tightly. His beard itched and cause a pink rash to form, but she didn't have the urge to fight it. All along her abdomen, DI Alec Hardy peppered hot, wet kisses with nips of teeth. Then he growled softly, turning to see the mirror and force her to see what he saw. A stomach with small little love bites. "I decide what I find sexy. And that's sexy."

She hadn't even realized that she had started crying until it dripped down her face. It wasn't a sad tear, not really. It was more an overwhelming realization that Alec wasn't messing about, he wasn't saying this because he loved her. As his hands ran up her legs, prickly from unshaven hairs, he kissed and growled against her skin with the kindest love she'd felt. And she gladly let him remove her panties and shorts until she was bare, spread for him.

"I love your breasts and I love your belly, but these are some of my favorites," Alec said and he moved her thighs to sit on his shoulders. He bit at her thighs, lowering his kiss with each moment. Then he was there at the apex of her legs, with her slightly hairy, fully glistening cunt. His hot breath hit her as he murmured, "hey darling."

She shuddered, her body involuntarily moving to the sound of his voice. She had to stop the yelp that tried to escape when he extended his tongue and licked her bottom to top.

“I love that you’re so responsive down here,” Alec said between peppered kisses, letting his teeth ever so softly graze across her clit before sliding his tongue into her opening. Her muscles clenched, thighs beginning to shake as he lavished her. “I love the taste of you.”

He moved up, letting his beard scratch along her inner thighs in the way he knew she liked. Alec brought a careful finger to her opening, sliding it in with ease. She started to grind against it, hips bucking to meet his tongue as he began proper work on her clit. His fingers were long as they pumped in and out, curling i side her in the way that made her gasp. He laughed against her, he fucking laughed. A deep chuckle that radiated through her body, sending her arousal through the roof until her thighs were clamped round his head.

“Such a good girl for me,” he whispered against her. But she heard it, and practically shoved him into her. Then Alec said, “you look so beautiful, you’re doing so good love. I’m so proud of my girl.”

Y/N cried out as she came, her body convulsing with each wave. It was positively impossible to describe, a kind of hazy pleasure that takes you from this world until you’re left panting on a bed, wondering how your antisocial detective boyfriend learned to do all of that. Her legs spasmed, squeezing against him in the way he adored.

Alec eased her through it, his kisses soft and messy. Her juices covered his face, were in his beard, but he seemed to proudly display her. Her thighs were going to be red from beard rash and covered in little love bites, some more possessive than others and she relished them all.

“Such a beautiful darling,” Alec said, rising slowly as he moved up her body. “I love your body, it’s bloody sexy is what it is. But my favorite part, yes even more than your breasts, is your face.”

Then he leaned in and kissed her, he kissed her with everything he had. It was rhat desperate, dizzying sort of kiss where words went unspoken but understood. She sighed, crying but now it wasn’t a hatred. Just like she realized earlier, and now it seemed to sink, Alec loved her regardless. He didn’t just put up with insecurities, he fought to fight them with her and show her what he saw. She might not see it yet, but to know that someone like him had eyes like that was comforting.

He tasted of her, of her musk and sweat and sex, and she found it embarrassingly arousing to know it was her wetness that did this to him.

Alec came up to the bed quickly, getting in the same position from earlier. Him behind her with her body in between his legs. Alex brought her to lean on him so her neck was ready for biting, “I fucking love your neck.”

“Bloody vampire!” She laughed.

Alec chuckled, bring his hands down her sides to grip her thighs. “That so?” With a strong yet gentle touch, he spread her thighs wide enough to rest on his, locking her in place.

“Alec I need you…”

“Oh what a pretty picture you make,” Alec whispered along her skin as he removed his cock from his trousers, going under her arse to tease at her opening. “Oh look at you, you’re gorgeous. My beautiful angel grinding against my cock, spread for the world to see. Perhaps another day. Shall I show you just how lovely you are, darling?”

Fuck. For someone who’d not done much dirty talk, he was damn good at it. She whined for him to take her, and he happily obliged, sinking into her with a slow thrust.

He let out a hiss at the feeling of her taut muscles clenching around him, holding him in place as though she couldn’t hear to lose him. She gasped the fullness, relishing in it and grinding just enough to cause Alec to make a guttural sound.

“You keep goin like that Angel and I won’t last much longer.”

“I don’t want you to,” she said, moving her hips again.

That movement broke Alec. He kept one hand tight on her hip, the other snaking down her body to start desperate ministrations on her clit. He thrust into her with a fury, bucking his hips to get as deep as he can. Y/N groaned, shocked at how quickly he was bringing her to climax.

“Come in me,” she said between breathy sighs. “Make me yours.”

Something in that sent the man wild. He stood, quickly helping prop Y/N up doggy style on the bed, and began to truly fuck her the way they both intended. They were so close to climax, his strokes uneven and wild, her clit buzzing with life.

“Say it again, angel. Tell me to make you mine.”

“I’m yours,” she groaned. “Come in me, I need you. I’m yours, make me yours.”

And he did, falling slightly into her and having to support himself on the mattress. He groaned loudly, those freckles flushing. But he knew she hadn’t come again, and he kept himself inside her as he leaned down, “now, any man you ever fuck you’ll know I’m here. You’re mine, angel. My darling.”

With a flick of his wrist, she came undone.

#alec hardy fanfic #alec hardy x reader #alec hardy #binging broadchurch #broadchurch fanfiction #i’m happy the 12 of you who read broadchurch fics will enjoy this #fanfiction #sexy david tennant woo wee #david tenannt is once again sad tired man #we cherish the men with heart conditions #he’s one fuck away from death #and I need him #reader insert #if your name is Becca leave leave leave #I have puns that no one will understand to make her leave #you know things you should not know #but I still love you #but never read this ever

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suengmi · 1 year

Note

haii, i saw that you wanted some ot8 prompts?

maybe skz’s different ways of showing affection? maybe comforting you after a long day? idk if you’ve done any of these yet but im in a soft mood today, had a bit of a shitty day myself and nearly got fired because I overslept so that was fun 🤧

get round to this if you feel like it, if not i totally understand!! keep yourself safe bby <33 -🐶x

I'm so sorry you had a shitty day :( jeez were all human. when one of my employees slept in the other day I was like "get ya hole here where you at" and they're like "IM COMIN MY BIG OLE OVER SLEPT" like damn not the end of the world yeesh ANYWAYS hope this makes u feel better pup ❤️

no warnings (mentions of non sexual nudity???) just FLUFF ACK

○ BANGCHAN

chan always knows you're upset, he senses it almost immediately. whenever you're upset, you need space but need his comfort just as much. kind of mixed messages. you feel guilty sometimes not knowing what you want. but chan is always there, asking you what you need in the end. sometimes you don't know, so it takes it into his own hands, cooking for you, washing your hair when you shower together, giving neck kisses while he does so. "more kisses? i have unlimited for you"

○ CHANGBIN

changbin, ever the fusser. he would try to make jokes after he noticed and tease you a little bit. he'll do anything to make you laugh or smile, but you weren't always in the mood. sometimes, he got a bit confused, trying to read your face. "baby, I'm sorry. what do you need?" with that, you'd melt into his touch, crying into his neck. he'd pick you up, pulling your legs around his waist. "my lil koala" he'd say, pulling his head back to give you a kiss. his kisses would get a bit aggressive in the end, telling you how much he loves you. in the end, you'd be laughing "bin stop!!"

○ FELIX

felix would instantly come to you, hands cradling your face, probably dropping whatever he was holding not caring. "oh don't cry! why are you crying? baby what's wrong?" big cuddles, pushing your face into his chest. "felix i can't breathe." he keeps holding you for a second before he realises "oh sorry" you'd laugh a little bit, him just laughing with you about his overly affectionate way of comforting you. "i sometimes have to breathe you know" kisses all over your face and fingers sitting under your shirt, telling you how proud he is of you. MORE KISSES.

○ JEONGIN

"oh shit" he'd say, seeing you crying on the couch. his bags thudding on the ground as he walked in the door. "baby no," he'd panic a bit, walking to your side to sit next to you. "what's wrong?" you'd just start crying more. "tell me baby please. what do you need?" you'd throw yourself into his arms, mumbling how you just wanted cuddles. he wasn't the quickest to pick these things up, but he knew if you'd just want to cry, letting you do what you needed. his hands soothing along your back as he rested his cheek on your head. "are you hangry? I'll get in the car right now you wanna maccas? chocolate? is it me?? do i stink??" you'd just laugh, knowing he's doing his best.

○ JISUNG

eyes wide and searching your own. you're in the sheets. nothing is said when he slips in behind you, running his hand around your waist to hold you. "you don't have to talk" he'd say, kissing your cheeks and shoulders. reassuring you that he gets overwhelmed sometimes, too, so he understands. you'd turn into his chest, enjoying his smell. it's comforting. in the end, you'd just exist in his arms, not talking about anything. he'd just kiss your head, waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to talk. patient as always

○ HYUNJIN

drops everything that he's doing when he hears you sniffle a little bit. "baby what is it? tell me" you'd just shake your head not wanting to talk. "bad day huh? tell me, please, i wanna know" you'd end up talking about your day, how shitty your work was, he knows you'll feel better after venting just getting it all off your chest. he knows you too well. his hands would be running through your hair and fingers gently wiping away your tears. "I love you" he'd say, all gooby and warm. this would make you cry more mumbling into his chest that you love him too.

○ LEE KNOW

"what you whining about?" he'd laugh when he came home hearing you start spouting off about work and the shit that came with it. this would probably make it a bit worse, frustration of him not listening and turning it into a joke. "oh babe" he'd coo, coming to your side, grabbing your hands in his. he wouldn't realise how bad you feel until he actually sees you. "sorry is it really that bad? i didn't mean to make you cry more" he'd probably feel really bad, pressing little kisses on your puffy lips. "im a dick" he'd pout, kissing you more. you're a mess now, everything setting you off. "i'm here, what do you need? I'll do whatever I can."

○ SEUNGMIN

seungmin says nothing when he notices you crying. the kiss on your forehead would be gentle, saying it all. he'd leaves you for a moment running you a bath and lighting some candles in his bathroom. he'd bring you to the bathroom carefully moving you with his hand in yours, undressing you before him. he'd help you into the bath, sitting in behind you. just rubbing his hands up and down your arms and giving you cuddles whenever you'd cry harder, arms sitting across your chest and face nuzzling into your neck whispering how beautiful you were and how you could get through this.

#felix x reader #stray kids x reader #myfic #stray kids fic #skz fic #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #seungmin x reader #changbin x reader #jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #hyunjin x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz imagines #🐶anon #hehe ty bb <3 #stray kids

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 1 year

Text

Teeth

Part 10

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing much really, some smut, some angst, loads of dumbassery.

I'm waiting for you outside.' Is what he texts you on your first day back to work.

'Why?'

'Isn't it obvious?'

Oh, you hated him.

He looks fucking hot, because of course he does, dressed in his usual, but unbelievably attractive, work attire.

The bane of your existence that he is, gives you a nod of his head in greeting.

"I'm driving you to work."

The audacity.

You stop right in front of him, looking up at him evenly, trying your hardest not to smile, or look away, or look down at his lips-

"What makes you think, I want you to drive me to work?"

He returns your stare easily, and if you were any less angry with him, you would have folded.

"I know you don't feel safe, and I want to help you with that however I can."

"I didn't ask for your help, I'm fine on my own." You say obstinately.

A smile pulls on his face for a second, and you feel yourself get even angrier that he would find humor while you stare him down.

"I know you're fine on your own," he says, leaning into you.

You gulp at the praise, taking a step back, he guides you, corrals you, until your back is pressed against his car.

"I know how strong and how capable you are." He follows up, bracing one hand on the car right beside you, you glance down at it, observing the shine of his watch, feeling your heart vibrate rapidly in response to his closeness.

"I think, you're maybe one of the best in your fields- if not the best and I don't think there's much problems you can't fix."

"Uh-" You try to protest.

His other hand pressing against the car on the other side of you makes you shut up really quickly. You look up at him as he looms over you, the scent of jasmine filling your senses, his eyes are even, and dark, demanding your attention.

"But I know security, and your safety is very important to me. So get in the car, and let me at least drive you to work."

Your eyes drop down to his lips.

God, how you want to kiss him. Just throw caution to the wind and slant your mouth against his until you steal his hot breath with each slide of your tongue on his-

Shit. This was not the way you wanted to interact with him today. You wanted to be casual and indifferent, pull away and keep your distance, not think about jumping him the minute he got too close to you.

You knew how he would play this, gentle and earnest now, and then cold to you later. If whiplash was a person, you'd be staring right at him.

You still couldn't shake the way his words made you feel. The way he believed in you so easily made you want to melt into a hot, sticky puddle at his feet.

So you find some common ground, nodding your head in assent, watching him lean away from you. You turn, pulling the door open, and climbing into the passenger seat of his car without looking back.

It's a lot more torment than you can manage. The whole way there, you're thinking about how easy it would be to fuck him in the back seat, have him drop his pants and you'd lift your skirt and sink right down onto him. You wonder what kind sounds he'd make-

"Do you want to pick the music?" He asks easily, unlocking his phone and leaning it your way.

Your hands shake when you take it, picking a song you like and letting it play.

You study him intently, he keeps a straight face as the song plays.

It burns at you to the point where you have to ask.

"What do you think?" You ask evenly, trying your hardest not to ramble.

Do you like it? Do you hate it? I'm sorry if it's shit.

You don't understand why you need his approval so much. Why did it matter to you?

What was it about him, that made you want every ounce of attention he could give you?

"It's good. It's not my specific taste but I like it." He answers, glancing over at you.

You smile.

"It's really funny. I think I have the best music taste but also I'm so insecure about it too." You try to explain, beating yourself up after you say it.

You watch his mouth twitch in amusement.

"That's very cute."

You turn away to look out the window so that he doesn't see how wide you smile.

"I just noticed- you got your necklace back." Bily comments, as you sit across from him in his office.

You raise a hand, touching the panther.

"Yeah," You say with a smile, "Someone brought it back for me."

"I'm glad to hear it."

You swallow with a nod, eager to get back to discussing work, trying to reduce the amount of time you spend around him, worried that you'll just keep saying stupid shit.

He doesn't like the distance.

The physical chasm between you was hard enough to handle as is, but now you're actively trying to avoid him as much as possible at Anvil.

Sure, the drives to work kept you close, he was able to see you everyday, talk to you, even just a little.

But you'd taken to holding your tongue around him, smiling and nodding, or giving one word answers when necessary.

It was fucking agony.

He wanted that sweet girl back, the one that found difficulty in keeping quiet.

Billy suspected it was in part his fault. He doubted he was the most welcoming face, and he knew sometimes he came across dismissive when he was trying to tamp the beast down, his slipping self control could make him come across as irritable. There was also the guilty feeling in his chest when he got too close. He didn't want to devalue your work in any way.

But keeping you safe had become necessary.

With the robbery happening when he'd been dealing with the full moon, Billy realized that he'd have to be more vigilant.

New York could be so unsafe, and Billy would not let another hurt you.

He swallows angrily when images of the little scratches on your skin materialise in his head.

Killing those men had been necessary. Carving their faces up until they had been barely recognisable, leaving them in a place easily found by the target audience was detrimental.

The predator had been pleased with the shocked faces of those that had observed his work. The message had been clear; tread lightly, there was no criminal organisation out there that could keep anyone safe from him.

Billy wakes up when you say his name.

He blinks, sitting up in bed rubbing his eyes when he catches sight of you.

You're dressed in a satin nightdress, his hands clench into fists, eager to get his hands on the material.

He says your name, watches you smile at him as you get closer.

He's not wearing anything, only the black sheets tucked around his lower half protect you from seeing his hardening cock.

You don't seem to mind his state of undress, crawling into his bed, and not stopping until you're straddling his lap, right atop his covered cock.

He groans, and he watches you smile mischievously.

You lean closer, and Billy tilts his head up, closes his eyes, eager to kiss you.

All you do is press your forehead to his, rubbing your nose against the slant of his.

He says your name, a plea, an ask of desperation, begging you not to tease him.

You hum, little fingers wrapping behind his neck, a comforting hand on the edges of shredding his self control.

When he tilts his head up for a kiss, you move your head back.

Your fingers wander, exploring what's yours. Billy closes his eyes and surrenders himself to it, feels the trace of your gentle fingers over his collarbones.

He tilts his head back, all the weight of his torso propped onto his arms keeping him upright. He feels your fingers explore them too, carefully assessing each bicep, each line of his muscle.

He hopes you like it- the shape of his body- he hopes you like what you see.

He lets out a low groan when your fingers trace his chest, his skin tingles in the best way. He feels so open, vulnerable for you, and he can't fathom enough thought to build any walls against you and the way you make him feel.

He lets you explore his torso, eager fingers reaching behind to rub your soft hands against his back. His breath catches when he feels your nails claw against his skin for a brief moment.

He raises his head, tries to kiss you again, only to have you pull back with another teasing laugh.

Why were you punishing him? Hadn't he endured enough torment?

Apparently not, because in the next moment you drop your head to kiss his neck.

"Fuck." He grunts, tilting his head to give you more space to work, letting you kiss his neck to your heart's content.

You let out a hum of delight and his cock jumps, he loves the sounds you make.

You take it as an invitation, beginning to rock your hips against his gently, while you kiss his neck.

When kissing is not enough, he feels your teeth come out to play.

Perhaps you were a predator too.

Biting and licking and kissing his skin and all he wants to do is give in to you, let you take anything you wanted.

He just wanted to belong to you.

"I'm close." He warns, gasping as your hips speed up, doesn't remember any point in his life where he was this on edge from just someone touching him.

He can't fight it, fingers gripping your hair, pulling your head back so that he can press his lips to yours.

He wakes up, cock aching painfully.

It doesn't take much, just the dip of his right hand below the thin sheets, pretending that his rough palm was really your soft one, and stroking himself to completion easily.

His body heaves in air, post-orgasmic bliss easing the tension in his body.

He sits up, tosses the sheets off with his other hand and moves to clean himself up.

You're still asleep. He can see you through the open curtains of your room.

You'd started sleeping with them open, maybe a day or two now, and the beast hums, contented that he may have factored into you feeling safe in your own home.

You shift, pulling a pillow tightly into your body, tossing a lithe leg over it.

Billy smiles to himself, admiring you curled up, wishing he could be there with you.

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath. Your safety came first, and he was making steady progress on that- too much progress for him to stop now.

Sometimes he texts you at the end of the work day to tell you that he's waiting by his car for you. Other times, he shows up in your little office space, leaning against the door to look at you steadily until you notice him. Today, it's the former.

You've been doing this little dance for almost a week now, you're not sure how sustainable it is, but you're stubborn, and you refuse to indulge him in any kind of deeper interaction because you know he's just going to pull away again.

It was all muddled in your head, the way you felt about him, and the lengths you went to so that you could hide those feelings, the way he acted toward you, not saying a word to you in the elevator, but holding you so tight after you'd been attacked.

It was obviously, just better to pull away, which you had definitely been trying to do. You knew it would save you a lot of heartache later.

Unwilling to admit to yourself that maybe you were in heartache right now.

You almost fall when you see him.

He's bent over, foot propped against a little ledge built into the wall behind his car, running a soft cloth over the tip of his boot.

He's dressed in partial tactical clothing, tight shirt tucked into combat pants, and your mouth dries up at the very sight of him.

"Billy?" You call, as you make your way to him.

He raises his head, says your name in greeting.

When he catches your eyes roaming the expanse of his chest he looks down.

"Ran some combat sims today." He explains.

You nod, swallowing.

"Right." Is all you say, opening his car door and slipping inside without another word.

You let out a shaky breath.

Holy fuck was he hot. Surface of the sun scorching and even worse when dressed in attire that forced you to think about how he would look using a gun.

God, you squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the ache inside of you. This definitely was not helping you pull away from him.

You startle a little when he opens the driver's side door and slips inside.

Your eyes are fixed directly forward, you hear him take a deep breath.

"How was work today?" He asks, his voice hitting a low timbre, still soft despite the rumble.

"Good," You reply, matching his soft tone, uncaring of how innapropriate it might be.

Your clit was aching too much for you to worry about appropriateness.

"I like solving problems." You follow up unnecessarily.

He hums, you squeeze your eyes shut when his car roars to life.

"Are you hungry? We can stop for something on the way home." Billy offers.

Home, because both of you were going to near the same destination.

"I'm okay." You answer tersely, "I'm gonna whip up something at home."

He nods, deep in thought.

"Is it okay if I stop? I'm not feeling to cook for myself today."

Your mouth parts, you turn to him. He glances at you when he notices your movement.

"I can- If- If you want- I'm making pasta and I always make too much-" Fuck fuck fuck, what were you doing? What happened to keeping your distance?

You take a deep breath to gather your thoughts.

"Would you like to come over for dinner? I'll make pasta. Or it's not a problem if you want to get something else-"

"-I'd like that." He interrupts, and you can't help the heat that flushes throught your body.

"Good." You nod in acceptance, turning away from him to face forward once again, pretending to be casual when really, you could feel the slippery glide of your arousal between your legs.

How many times does he have to fight himself, before it's too much?

Your scent fills the enclosed space of his car, your arousal so prominent he can near taste it in the air. It wraps around him, seeps into his every pore, torments him.

The beast rages.

Billy swallows, tightening his already white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel- a few more minutes of this and he's going to damage his car.

He glances over at you, you're typing animatedly into your phone, he studies your hair, memorises it, takes another deep breath.

He wonders how soft the skin of your bare thighs would be, he thinks about the way it would feel against his face.

He takes another deep breath at a traffic light, tries to be calm but the only air he can breathe is full of you.

"Are you allergic to anything?" You murmur, seemingly deep in thought.

He forces himself to think for a moment.

"Allergic- no, but I really hate green beans."

You hum, typing something into your phone.

"No green beans. Got it."

You accept it so easily, you don't ask why, and he likes that. He likes how easy you accept him.

"I don't like broccoli either, and cabbage is on thin ice."

At this, you give a little giggle, he smiles at the sound, feels himself be put at ease.

"I love broccoli, but I hate the way people make it seem that picky kids are a parent's worst nightmare. No one faults adults for being picky. I'm sorry if your parents made you feel bad for not liking what you don't like."

He sighs, blinks, doesn't want to turn the atmosphere sour with his past, but something inside of him itches for the comfort you would no doubt give.

"I don't really have parents." he says softly. He watches you turn to look at him from the corner of his eye.

"You don't?" You ask.

He shakes his head slowly, eyes fixed on the road as the traffic light turns green.

"I grew up in a group home, I don't know if my parents would have made me feel bad or not, but the people that took care of me definitely did." He ends with a humorous tone in his voice, trying somehow to lighten the mood.

He's hyperfixated on every breath you take as you process the information.

"I'm sorry." You finally say.

"It's-"

"-Are you really going to say it's alright? Was it actually? Did you feel safe and protected? Did you get to have toys and your favourite foods?"

Billy hadn't expected this. No one before had really prodded him after he'd given the brief overview.

"No." He says simply.

"Is that why you hate green beans?"

Right on the money.

"Yes." He answers, vaguely aware that he's shutting down, trying not to overshare his traumatising childhood.

"What's your favourite food?" You inquire softly.

He spares a glance in your direction.

You look at him evenly, Billy can tell your mind is already made up, despite his next attempts to change it.

"You don't have to-"

"-I know. I know I don't, but I want to. I know you're my boss, and maybe this is not the most appropriate thing, but maybe we can be friends too."

He couldn't fight the smile that pulls at his mouth even if he tried.

"Of course we can be friends." He murmurs, sparing another glance from the road to look at your face. Captivating in every way, blissful shelter, in a raging storm.

A/N: What song would you play for Billy that perfectly encapsulates your taste in music?

Mine is either Devil's Advocate by The Neighborhood or Take A Slice by Glass Animals

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut #werepanther billy russo #werepanther!billy russo #monster!billyrusso #monster!billy russo #monster!billy

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faecaptainofdreams · 7 months

Text

~Through the Nomad’s Eyes~

“It's not terribly often.

A few times a month, I'd say -- sometimes less.

Depends how much trouble I get in.

Day is dark with smoke, my vision is full of embers.

My eyes burn, the fires are hot.

Birds chirpin', people talkin' is replaced with screams.

Tall, proud buildings are suddenly collapsing.

I hear children cryin'...

I see dirt roads and pavement painted red.

Stalls and homes fall to stone and ash.

The smell is...indescribable.

Those screams...

It's unbelievable, what...godless sounds come out of a person, when they're bein' burned and mangled...

Or shot...

Or trampled...

Or crushed by debris...

The ground shakes, glass shatters.

It's pure chaos, but it's only a second.

Then, I blink my eyes...

And it's all over.

And my heart stops racin', and the ice in my veins melts.

'N I'm okay.

This doesn't usually happen when I'm somewhere peaceful.

Naw, it's usually when I'm gettin' myself into trouble helpin' folks.

Wherever there's a fire, when I hear screamin', when there's panic.

It affected me worse when I was younger, but I've learned how to push through it now.

It helps to remind myself that it's over, but...I know it'll always be with me.

I'll always be haunted by that day.

By the screams, and...by them gettin' quieter...

By the blood.

By the ash, the flames, the rumblin' of the earth.

By the empty vessels I climbed over -- bodies, people.

People someone loved.

Mothers.

Fathers.

Babies...

I'll always see those faces; sometimes when I close my eyes, they're lookin' back at me, hollow.

I knew some'a them...

People who took care'a me.

That day is the reason I look back, why I can't stay out'a harm's way.

Because I know what happens when hearts grow dark, what hurt and twisted people do to other people.

Maybe I can make a difference, maybe I can't, but I gotta try.

I want to prove that love, that patience and time, can change fate, can tame temper.

I know what it means to be helpless, and when I see someone else livin' that, it makes me ill.

I know that hurt people hurt people, that someone failed them, too.

When I see disaster, I gotta run to it.

I'm sorry...

But I gotta.

Because if I do nothin' even though I had the chance, then it's my fault.

It's not rational, but don't ask me to change...'cos I can't...

Don't feel sad for me, now.

In my heart, I really feel...good.

Yes, I hurt a lot, and I feel guilty.

I punish myself when I can't save somebody.

Sometimes I don't love myself like I should, I don't take care'a me.

Sometimes I think, "It shoulda been me."

Sometimes I feel...worthless...but I really know better.

If I didn't, I wouldn't feed and take care'a myself like I do, and play and have fun, right?

I like livin', I like bein' happy.

...

If I run into danger, and someone comes out alive or better off on the other end because of it, I've succeeded.

If I run into danger and all that happens is I got a whoopin', well...reckon I had it comin'.

Who am I to say what's what?

But yeah, generally, I feel good.

Minus the memories, the nightmares sometimes, I often sleep real good at night.

I can smile, and laugh play and sing and see what's beautiful in life.

This life is painful, and scary, but it's also miraculous.

We're all here on a whim; the odds of us existing are so against us, and yet here we stand.

A universe, cold and empty and quiet, full'a nothin'...

It's such a divine gift to be here, to learn and think and share life with others.

To make new life, to lay down past life, to cry and grow and nurture.

All from the same place, from dust to dust, to one day all return to that same place.

Ooh, it makes my hair stand up!

Doesn't it you?

I see fire...

I see blood...

I see death...

But when that passes, I see joy, and nature, and all of us together.

I see life blooming, new beginnin's unfolding.

I see us learning from what we live through.

The past haunts me, but I won't live in it.

I'll just look back at it -- and that's okay.

It's okay to look back.

I'll just let it inspire me.

Don't try to turn my head when ya see me lookin' over my shoulder.

It'll release me when it's done."

#wander over yonder #woy #woy fanart #ptsd #no that isnt Harvax LOL #just his species though #more to come on the species later

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neet-elite · 1 month

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not sure if you write for sydney but consider: dumbification. just edging him, fingering him open until he's almost sobbing and all his big boy thoughts are gone and all he can do is whimper and beg for mommy to let her dumb little angel cum. 💞

i love sydney ahh... although i've never wrote for them, so please excuse any OOC content!! calling them an angel is so perfect though </3

MDNI ♡ Warnings: submissive sydney, dumbification, anal fingering, mommy kink, religious contexts (i know this is vague, i just use a lot of religious words because... well, sydney.)

WC: 1077

Somewhere, deep in the recesses of his own mind, he knows exactly what he's trying to say. A mix of don't stop and wait a second caught on the tip of his tongue, prompting it to loll out instead of providing anything of use to him at the moment, muted taps of his drool hitting the floor to join the other slick sounds filling the room. But you can hardly expect anything more from him when you're knuckles deep in his ass, now can you?

But still, he tries for you. Tries purely because you've asked. Now, whether or not he remembers what you've asked him is another question entirely, mind melted under the curl of your fingers, head dizzy with how difficult it is to try and remember to simply breathe, taking big gasping gulps of air to cope with how good you're making him feel, and you've barely even touched his cock yet— you're exactly the type of person he was warned to avoid, but he can't think of as to why right now. Too busy trying to quell his shaking thighs under the strain of trying to keep himself bent over prettily, when all he really wants to do is rut into the ground below; he doesn't even care what's under him, so long as he can cum for you. It's the sole reason he exists right now, dumb little boy with a leaking cock; all for you. All because of you.

"What— nn, what did you— Ah!" you cut him off with an expert flick of your wrist, a single finger stroking down his throbbing cock placed between his thighs like some sort of tucked dog tail. He bucks involuntarily anyway, swinging his hips in the air for just a little more friction— anything at this point, immediately forgetting the rest of his sentence when you introduce a new finger in his ass, stretching his hole out for your own enjoyment at this point. It's sick how much he enjoys it, right?

"I said—" you start, emphasising your words with an unfair shove of your hand deeper into his hole, finger fucking a high-pitched whine to spill from him, prompting him to rock forward with your thrust in a seeking of more. "You're still holding back. C'mon, sooner you let go the sooner y'can cum."

As if it's that easy, he muses. And yet still, the drawl your voice carries draws him closer, sinking further into your touch with every greedy inch you fuck into him, every brush of your free hand against his red hot cock sending shivers of pleasure down his spine; whispering sweet nothings of you're right, it feels too good not to let go, so go on, it'll feel even better when you completely give in.

But he's trying so hard so remain at least somewhat present for you, to keep some coherence to fully appreciate your sinful touch. Despite the copious amounts of drool that spills from his tainted lips, coating his bitten arm tacky with saliva, the thick drip of precum drooling down his thighs, asshole leaking with the amount of spit you've fucked down his hole. In spite of that, he wants to properly thank you for showing him the light.

That is, until your not so innocent confession of: "You're so pretty when you fall apart, angel." hits his ears and he whines. All needy and feminine, choked in his throat when you add the extra stimulation of meek pets against the length of his cock. Ah, he's so sensitive there! Practically begging for it by the way he wiggles his ass back at you, he knows, acting out of pure impulse rather than taking a moment to consider his actions; successfully fucked stupid on your mere fingers, he's got no hope in Hell of ever taking anything else at this rate.

What remains of him is a single thought, humping the air as instinct takes hold of him for perhaps the first time in his life. A full body shiver in response to your strokes, both on his cock and in his ass, nudging against that sensitive spot while tenderly caring for his too sensitive tip. You've really left him no other choice, huh?

"Wanna— um, ah— Can I—"

The sound of your disapproving tuts only serves to turn him on some more, thick globs of precum dripping from his tip and onto your expert fingers. God, you sound so mean. He can't work out why you're tutting right now, not when his hole tries to suck your fingers in further. You'll have to clue him in.

"Nuh uh, you forgot the magic word, angel."

And despite your harmless enough words, the little pet name tacked on at the end of your scolding causes his hips to thrust harder. Only once or twice, bouncing his ass back against your fingers working his hole open like he was... A slut, or something. Even just thinking of the words has him trembling, biting down on his bottom lip in an attempt to remain composed enough to answer your plea.

"M-Mommy— please, can— Can I cum now?"

Ever the sadist, you have him wait. Not long, he intrinsically understands, but it feels like for fucking ever when you're fucking him so well like this. Leaving him a gasping, moaning, drooling mess on the floor because you said so. Isn't that deplorable? That contrary to his heavy upbringing, here he is asking you for permission. Effectively praying to you, you who is currently defiling him from behind like he was a common whore. It's disgusting, goes against his very being.

Which is why he needs to cum so badly for you.

"Go on, then." you resign, apathy rich in your tone for him to whine at. Not from displeasure, but from plain hedonistic enjoyment.

So he does. Cums, that is. Right into your open and wanting palm, shooting his load all over your fingers like he was made solely for this. Greedy groans escape him, followed by a mantra of your name; a hymn of devotion to another God. One whose fingers still yet remain inside his hole, stretching and scissoring him through his orgasm to leave him choking on air.

Only when he's finally done riding the last wave do you start again, drilling him into the ground without much effort at all, his lungs heaving to catch up to your own version of praying.

Devotion, perhaps.

#💌mail #dol smut #degrees of lewdity smut #sydney the faithful smut #first time writing sydney please be kind <3

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