#my heart is so full when people care to look below the surface of what i’ve created | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magnoliabutters · 1 year

Text

• THOUGHT YOU DIDN'T CARE •

pairing: joel miller x (18+, she/her) reader

summary: joel and ellie are tasked to move a package from jackson to san diego. little did they know you were the "cargo..."

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language, cordycep apocalypse related violence & weapons, canon divergence, tlou part 1 & 2 spoilers; angst, medium to slow burn, pet names, voyuerism, sub!joel and dom!reader, age gap in pairing, masturbation, etc.

word count: ~6.3k

support your writer: reblogs for daddy joel ✨🌿

request: by @yourmomsmilfmistress; katrina babes, i have another idea!!! i was thinking something along the lines of (whatever male character you want/ im not picky) is OBSESSED with reader and one day after a torturous hangout he starts to 🍆💦 ( ya know) after she leaves and for some reason it's not working and it's like he's just edging himself but (of course) reader comes and walks in on it and it's like sub!male and dom!reader smut!!!

note: um… most definitely. the way i thought of joel freaking miller instantly. sub male? common now 😈 we are set in a post-tlou part 2 world where no one died, abby who?, and ellie lives happily on the farm (aka 20+ age). also, loosely following the plot of part 1. for visuals of characters, i am moving forward with what we’ve seen so far of hbo’s part one and game’s part two casting. although as it’s older ellie, i went with video game looks. hopefully that makes sense. enjoy my fellow hoes ⚡️

Don't tell them your name. Just tell them you're there to see Maria.

His words keep running through your head as you gallop atop your trusted steed, Horse. He told you, repeatedly, that they will find you - not the other way around. All you needed to do was get to the vicinity of Jackson County. Well, you are about a mile into said county and you haven't come across a single person. Let alone, a single runner.

The two things cannot co-exist this far from the cities. If there are no runners or clickers, then there must be people. If there are infected, there are no people. But emptiness? That is something unheard of. It puts you on edge. You swear you want to just yell, yell to draw something out. But that would be stupid. You don't know how many are out here ... people or infected.

You hop over a razor wired fence in the middle of the road. Its height hits a the top of your knee. Perfect stop runners. Your first sign that people have been in this neck of the woods. The deeper you get into Jackson County, you wonder why all you need to say is "I'm here to see Maria." Would these people attack you and saying those words would be the only thing to stop them? Or are they dumb enough to bring just about anyone back into their town? You have absolutely no clue what he has signed you up for.

Fear stands your hairs on end. It fuels your adrenaline and heart as Horse guides you into an opened field. On the main road, you read a sign that displays "surface may be icy." You're thankful you were assigned this job in the middle of July. In front of you, you note green ivory glued to the brick walls of an old music store. The roads were shit, as usual. Cracks and bumps from overgrowth and lack of maintenance. You hope they are not too rough on Horse's shoes. She had them switched out in Colorado, back when you saw your people last.

Horse abruptly stops. Harsh enough for your full body to push up against her back. "Fuck," you grumble with a hand to your head. "What the hell?" You slowly open your eyes to note the clicker before you. With widening eyes, you swiftly reach to unhook your knife from the saddle. As quiet as a mouse, you hop off of the pillion and carefully land your feet on the grass below. You side step as you make your way closer. its clicks grow louder as it uses its echolocation in the opposite direction.

Your eyes are constantly moving, wondering if there are any other infected around. There is luckily no movement. Just one single clicker. The fungi sporadically growing throughout its body. The cordyceps on full display on its face - if you can even call it a face. In your last two steps, you rush up to it. You hook your arm over its chest. Your fingers curve over its shoulder as you grip tightly against the rough flesh. With your other hand, you stab your knife into the crook of its neck. It quickly became limp in your arms. You let slide off your body and ultimately onto the road.

"Drop the knife," you hear behind you. The voice is rough and booming. You gradually put your hands up. You drop the knife, careful to have it fall upon its hilt and not its blade. "On your knees," it bellows. You laugh, tilting your head to the side. "No can do," you scoff. "I only get on my knees when I want to." The man behind you laughs as he slowly walks up to you. His boots crunching against the dirt and gravel.

"On your knees," another voice appears. Despite its higher tone, it is just as rough. A smile grows upon your face as you carefully drop to your knees. "Oh for you, of course," you mutter to the woman. She quickly grabs hold of your wrist and places it behind your back. Her grip harsh and tight. You release a laugh as you lean back into your captor. "I'm here for Maria," you mutter.

Abruptly, the movements behind you stop. The grasp remains tight. "Maria?" the exasperated man's voice pushes through the air. His boots' steps become faster as he rushes behind you. "Why?" the woman asks. You feel the cool head of a gun at the back of your neck. "Hey, hey, hey," you furiously mumble. "I-I'm a smuggler. I'm with a group of people who told me Maria owes them one. I just got sent here for her to pay the debt."

The gun is pressed harder against your neck. "What debt?" the man's voice asks. You move your head to the side, attempting to pull yourself away from the gun's focused point. The gun holder makes sure it stays against your skin despite your movements. "I don't even know, man. I was just sent here. They told me to say 'I'm here for Maria' and that she would know what to do," you spit out.

You hear the man pace behind you. He sighs heavily. His voice hushed as he speaks towards the woman. "I don't feel good about this, El," he whispers. "Does she have any people in her past?" the woman asks. "Not that I know of," he says as those steps draw closer once more. You are suddenly pushed to the ground. You cut up your chin as you couldn't catch yourself in time. "Fuck," you mutter into the ground. "Your name," he mumbles. "I don't have time for games." You yell as your palms lay flat against the surface. "Rita," you quickly lie.

"Alright, Rita," the man's voice bustles behind you. "Let's go." Next thing you knew, a bag was pulled over your head. Your head was then banged against the hard rubber bedding of a truck.

They grip against the bag over your head so hard that it pulls on some of your hair as it uncovers your face. Your eyes slowly blink to adjust to the light. "Shit," you grumble as you relax your arms, only to realize that you were tied to a chair. Rope. Fuck, you think. Rope hurts the most.

"Now, Rita, I'm not going to ask again. Why are you here for Maria?" The familiar voice asks. You squint to look in his direction. A latino man with slicked black hair crouches before you. You look behind him to recognize that you were in a stable - a wooden stable. There is hay all over the floor, but no horses. What kind of stable doesn't have horses? As your eyes trail back towards your feet, you note red splotches staining the wooden floor below you. "Damn it," you whisper the elongated swear under your breath. You know exactly what kind of place this is.

"I told you already, man," you whine. "My people didn't tell me shit. Just that I was assigned a job and Maria owed a ride." You look into the brown eyes staring holes into your face. "I'm here to collect on that ride," you whisper. "To where?" the man asks. "I'll tell Maria ... once I get my ride," you answer with a smirk. The man raises his fist as his upper lip tenses. You wince at the sight.

“Tommy!” You recognize the woman’s voice as he holds back his fist. She walks out from the darkness of one of the stables. You smile at the sight. She looks younger than you. Her reddish brown hair gave you goosebumps. Her eyes a greenish blueish grey. Something you would have envied as a child. She some how looks sweet, but also has clearly endured so much in her short time.

“So, we have Tommy,” you share as you nod towards the man. “And El,” you murmur as you look up to her. You smile - a smile that El winces at. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” you sigh as you attempt to shrug against the chair. “I don’t want to give anyone grief. I just need to talk to-” Suddenly, a remarkable woman bursts through the doors. Another man at her side. Her eyes serious and hellbent. Her skin a deep and beautiful brown. She is undeniably gorgeous, and surprisingly pregnant. She definitely had the glow, complete with her large firmed bump. “Tommy, what the hell is this?” she asks sternly.

Maria, you think. They never gave you a picture, but you knew from the second she commanded that room. The second both Tommy and El backed away from you. Their hands either up or open at their sides. She was in charge. And she was headed right for you. “Maria,” you say with a sing songy voice. Her head shoots your way. “I need a ride.”

Maria stares down at your smile. Her upper lip pulls, just like Tommy’s. “Where?” she asks calmly. “San Diego,” you answer. “San Diego?” she scoffs. “I don’t owe them that much.” You tilt your head, smiling to yourself. “Well, someone thinks you do,” you smirk. Tommy grunts as he steps towards you. Maria quickly puts out an arm across his chest.

With a sigh, she returns her gaze to you. Her arm still across his chest. You are curious about those two. “I obviously can’t take you myself,” she mutters. “Obviously,” you affirm as you nod towards her stomach. “I’ll find you someone. You’ll leave in the morning,” she says carelessly. She turns around and speaks to her people. “Untie her,” she says under her breath.

The man who walked in with her quickly follows through with her demand. You rub your wrists and forearms where the rope’s red rings pressed into your skin. You stand with the devil’s smile across your face. El is the first to walk up to you, while Tommy’s eyes are still daggers. “Hey, sorry,” she says as she rubs the back of her neck. “Things didn’t go so well the last time a new person asked about one of our people.” You hum as you nod. “Make sense,” you say under your breath as you return your gaze to Tommy.

“Maria’s his wife,” El adds as she follows your eyes. “He’s been extra sensitive, given the baby and all.” You smile at her words. She pulls your attention. “It’s also Ellie by the way,” she mumbles. She gestures goodbye and walks out. “Rita?” the man asks. You look at him with confusion. “My name’s Jesse. Come on, follow me.” With hesitation, you follow the tall man out into the dark night.

Your eyes quickly fall upon the string lights crossing from building to building. It is so beautiful your mouth gapes open. “We have a small bed and breakfast for travelers,” he shares as he points to a building at the end of the street. “Shit - a bed and breakfast?” you scoff under your breath. As you walk, you note the happy and clean people randomly walking about. They are loud - comfortably loud. It must be nice.

“Where you from?” Jesse asks. His gaze stuck on you. “I don’t do small talk,” you say with a weak smile. “I don’t mean to be rude.” He laughs, raising his hands. “No, I get it. Just trying to make conversation,” he answers. “Oh, well if we’re making conversation, tell me what your favorite color is,” you teasingly laugh. He chuckles, shooting you a sweet smile. “Orange,” he scoffs. “You?” You nod, smiling as you step onto the front deck of this apparent bed and breakfast. “Green.”

With quick goodbyes, you go inside and easily secure your room. The room is on the first floor. Inside the small space, you have a worn down desk, chair, and bed. Your pack is already resting against the foot of the bed frame. You grab the back of the chair and hook it underneath the door’s knob. You turn the lock and deadbolt the door. When you finally lay back to rest, you reflect on your day. It didn’t go as well as you had hoped - as you had been told. But at least you are alive. At least you are on your way to San Diego.

After the best sleep of your life, Jesse led you to a building across the way. Maria, Tommy, Ellie, Jesse, another woman and a man sit alongside a long dinner table. The woman appears sweet. She sits closely to Ellie. The man is something else. His demeanor laid back, like he had no care in the world. His face kind, but also worn thin after years of this shit world. You can immediately see through the facade and know he is good. But damn does he give off such a strong guard dog vibe. He has random patches of grey amongst his black hair and beard. His eyes dark, but youthful. You struggle to keep your eyes off of him. He watches you, though. He sized you up as soon as you walked through the door.

“Rita,” Maria calls out. You are too busy attempting to watch him through your eye lashes. “Rita,” she says louder. You quickly turn your attention to her. Only now remembering that Rita was the name you gave them. “Yes,” you answer with high energy. “These are my best people,” she shares. “I want Joel and Ellie on this.” Ellie sits up straight, shocked as she exchanges looks with the girl beside her. The two begin to discuss in hushed tones. The man abruptly turns towards Maria, disingenuously laughing under his breath. “No, Maria,” he scoffs. “That ain’t happening.” The man stands, his hands firm against the table. He must be Joel. Rarely have you met someone who’s name perfectly fits them. It makes you smile.

Maria sighs as though she saw this coming. “I would go myself-” she starts. “So let me go,” Tommy interjects. Joel and Maria quickly respond “no” in unison. Maria takes a breath as she slowly looks to her partner. “I’m about to pop. You can’t go,” she whispers. “I need you.” Tommy solemnly nods as he looks back towards the rest of the group. Maria turns back to Ellie with patient eyes. “Ellie, Dina - are y’all okay with this?” she asks. Dina nods, looking at Ellie. "J.J. will be fine. You should go," she whispers. Ellie then turns to Maria and nods.

Joel's scoff could be heard from two buildings down. "This is bullshit, Maria and you know it," he yells as he slams his hand against the table. Tommy stands, pointing towards him. "Watch it, Joel," he warns through gritted teeth. Maria takes a breath as she looks between Ellie and Joel. "You two have gone across state lines more times than any of us. This should be easy as pie," she says softly. He rolls his eyes as a deep, unenthused chuckle falls from his lips. "What's the cargo?" he asks with furrowed brows as he looks off in the distance.

Maria turns towards you. She rakes over you with slight confusion and hesitation. Within a second, there was a moment where her face smoothed out. She took a breath and returned to Joel. "She is," she states with finality. Your face remains looking down the table, but your eyes travel to Joel's seat. He gradually turns to look at the group. With a guttural growl, he says, "Absolutely not." Maria throws her hands up. "Joel, they will come to collect. I will not put anyone else's life in danger," she yells.

"If they come to collect, they can take her dead body," Joel booms as he pulls a gun from his holster and points it towards your head. You remain still. Your breathing intensified as the remainder of the group stands to their feet. "Joel," Maria says softly. "We need her - whether you like it or not. We need her in San Diego." Joel exhales through his flared nostrils. His mouth tight as he looks down at you through the sights of his pistol.

"What's so important about her?" he asks as he lowers the gun. Maria sighs in relief. "I don't know," she shakes her head. "All I know is these people helped us in a pinch back when me and dad started up. They said they'd come to collect and all they needed was a team to get something to San Diego." Tommy watches her intently. It must have been the first time she shared this with him. "I've seen what these people have done when groups don't pay up, Joel," she mutters. "We will not win that fight without losing everything."

Joel sucks his tongue against the back of his teeth. He holsters his gun and walks towards the front door. He hooks a backpack over his shoulder and turns back towards the group. "Ellie?" he asks as he slowly opens the door. You turn to watch Ellie kiss Dina. She presses her head against hers and whispers things you cannot make out. They separate with a strong embrace. Ellie walks towards Joel. "You coming, Rita?" she calls out behind her. You stand immediately. Your shocked eyes fall upon Maria and Tommy as you attempt to process everything that has happened in the past few minutes. You grab your pack and walk out to meet the pair in the street.

Ellie watches Joel with trust and a hint of distaste. You wonder about their story. As you walk up, the two stop talking and turn to look at you. "Hello," you greet awkwardly. "While we're out there, you do exactly what I say - when I say. Understand?" Joel says sternly as he points a finger in your face. How could those sweet eyes simultaneously look so threatening? "Understood," you whisper under your breath as you exchange looks with Ellie.

Joel quickly turns and heads straight to what looks like a mechanic's garage. "Does he always have a stick up his ass?" you ask as you skip to catch up with Ellie. She smiles, nervously biting her lip. "At first," she mutters under her breath as her eyes remain on him. "The Chevy," he asks a man standing behind the desk. He promptly hands him keys without question. You nod, noting how nice it must be to live in Jackson.

"Chevy, huh?" you say, attempting to start a conversation with the man. Joel completely ignores you as he slides the keys into the door handle. "Nice try, but he's not going to crack for a while," Ellie whispers in your ear as she walks to the other side of the truck. You laugh as you open the side door and hop into the backseat. "Seatbelt," he says softly as he points Ellie's way. "Oh," she mutters as she slides it over her body and clips it at her side.

The three of you sat in silence for the first hour of the trip. It was unbearably boring. Wyoming's sights were not as incredible outside of Jackson county. You wish you could sleep, but did not trust the two enough to even try. "Joel," Ellie starts but continues to laugh. "Remember when we cleared this hotel. Remember the tomatoes?" She laughs so hard that she holds her stomach. She leans fully against the passenger seat as she kicks her feet up. You swear you watch Joel crack a smile as he watches the girl burst into a laughing fit. You wish you got a better look.

"What happened with the tomatoes?" you curiously ask Ellie. She turns, struggling to speak between laughs. As she starts, Joel quickly interrupts her. "Don't tell her anything. She's cargo, nothing more," he instructs. Ellie sinks into her chair. Her expression perplexed as she seemed excited to share. "Just cargo, huh?" you taunt. His face remains still as he eyes focus on the road. "Wow, you Jackson people are the sweetest I've ever met," you say sarcastically. "Maybe I should just dip out on this trip. I can probably make it on my own."

Joel quickly slams against the breaks. Your shoulder digs into the back of his seat as you let out a stunned groan. "What the hell?!" you yell. "We are taking you to San Diego, or we are taking your body," he turns to say with stern eyes. You place distance between you two. A sudden rush of alertness and danger bursting through your body. "Let me be clear. I don't care if you're dead or alive by the end of this trip. We are paying off Maria's debt," he seethes. "I'd recommend shutting up if you plan to get there alive."

You suck your tongue against your cheek as you laugh under your breath. You lean back harshly against the back of your seat. "Eyes on the road, asshole," you say as you nonchalantly gesture towards the street. He rolls his eyes as he faces forward behind the wheel. He presses on the gas gradually. Ellie sits in awkward silent with a tight lip. She finds comfort in looking out the window.

Less than a week has gone by and you are barely crossing the border into Utah. In each passing day, you learn something new about Ellie. She loves to draw. She met her partner, Dina, on the first day she got to Jackson. Her son is named after Jesse and Joel. She calls him her "potato" - an incredible nickname you find endearing. The days are starting to blend together, but Ellie remains a highlight of each.

Joel, on the other hand, has remained annoyingly silent. He solely speaks to Ellie. If he does choose to talk to you, it is usually some demand where he forgot how to say "please." He is abundantly cold. It is infuriating. Here and there, you catch him staring your way. His glimpses seem familiar, as opposed to his usual and intentional looks of anger.

He never looks at your eyes, but his gaze tends to fall on your lips and hair. Any time you caught his eye line, he would immediately look away. The way his gaze lingered on you always left you in a ball of confusion. You thought you would have been on edge, being stared at for hours on end. Yet, you loved it. It made you feel seen. It made you feel beautiful. If he wasn't so vocal about his disapproval, you would think he had a "thing" for you. For now, you just enjoy his looks - hoping they are filled with adoration and not hatred.

Luckily for the three of you, communication was not needed as much when taking out the infected. The trio even came across a group of clickers a day ago. Without saying a word, the three put on their gas masks and stepped into the spores. They could all hear the clicking echoing through the old and damaged walls. With only nods and looks, the three separated and silently took down each clicker.

You turned to look at them with excitement. “That was awesome!” you said joyously. “Very SWAT-team.” Ellie was kind enough to crack a smile as she cleaned her blade on the side of her jeans. You turned to Joel, waiting for any reaction. He gave you absolutely nothing. He shook off the blood on his machete and gracefully placed it back onto his backpack. He then immediately moved toward the cabinets in front of him to search for supplies. God, did he really not have a sense of humor?

Tonight, you find yourself resting beside Ellie in a closed off room. The day was once again filled with ambiguous look exchanges with Joel. Your body aches from taking out runners. You wonder if you'll be in pain for the entire trip. The room rests at the end of a long hallway with no other entrances or exits. The only doorway to the outside was located at the end of the hallway and was guarded by the one, Joel Miller. You continued to wrestle with sleep as you lay uncomfortably in your sleeping bag. You have now spent hours staring at the plant infested ceiling. Ellie, luckily, rests peacefully at your side. She felt safe enough to put earbuds in to help her sleep. Another thing of hers to be jealous of.

After a few hours, you decide that it will most likely be impossible for you to sleep tonight. You quietly stand and put your pajama shorts over your undies. You open the door into the hallway. It's long corridor was scarier at night. You pull your flashlight from your pocket. Clicking it on, you remind yourself that the only door is at the very front. You would undeniably see if anyone entered the dark hallway with you.

As you reach the end of the hall, you begin to hear quiet moans coming from the other side of the door. Your mind quickly rushes to the thought of a runner making their way inside. But once you hear slight heavy breathing and groans, you immediately recognize that the sounds were coming from Joel. Excitement bursts through your chest as you press your ear against the door. You could not have imagined a better sound escaping his lips. His groans sound so sweet, so supple. You wish you could be the reason they fall from his lips.

You nervously turn back to see that the door at the other end of the lengthy hallway remained close. There was no way anyone would be able to hear at the other end. Not unless they were right where you were standing. With a smile, you hear his breathing louden. You wish you could see him. See his brows pulling together as his mouth hangs open. You wish you could watch him stroking himself. You would bet on your life that his cock was large and girthy. You have been stealing glances of it beneath his tight jeans.

Your mouth starts to water as you hear his moans grow louder. It takes all your strength and will not to burst through the doorway and beg him to let you help. God, would you absolutely beg for that man - without question. You wonder who's on his mind. Who could possibly be the lucky person whom he is wanking off to? Your legs feel weak. You actually contemplate sitting down and playing with yourself alongside his intoxicating moans.

“Oh, Rita,” you hear fall from his mumbling lips. Your entire body lights up with pleasure. He is thinking about you… Your legs buckle beneath you as you struggle to stay standing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hear escape his lips. He must be close. You swear you can hear the slapping against his skin. All your blood rushes towards your clit. You want him - bad.

Out of no where, Joel stops. You hear a sound of frustration but remain curious. Was he edging himself? Shit. Why is that even hotter? you think to yourself. His moans slowly start again. Your mouth hangs open as you tighten your knees together. The friction feels good but it’s definitely not enough. You wish you could touch him. You wish he would be muttering your name as your hand strokes his dick. You wish his big hands could hold your head down as you take all of him in your mouth.

Almost as though you two were connected, Joel’s moans started to repeat more and more. His breathing heavies as your knees tighten harsher and harsher against themselves. Your clit now pulsating, desperate for stimulation. You cover your mouth, hoping your own gasping breaths were not loud enough to hear in the other room.

His voice strains as he gets closer and closer. He mumbles again, “Yes, Rita.” Shit, why aren’t you already in there? Your entire body is on fire but, oh, so nervous. You hear his skin slapping against each other. His moans growing louder. You hear a bump against the wall. His voice begins to break. God, he’s so fucking close.

“Oh baby just like that,” Joel whines. “Cum for me,” you whisper on repeat. Then silence fills the air. You worry if he might have heard you. You’re sure that him catching you listening in is so much worse than you catching him jacking off. “Damn it,” he yells softly with a grunt. That’s when you realize he isn’t edging on purpose. It seems like he can’t get past that final push. To release all that pent up energy.

You could help him. You know you want to. It’s the right thing to do. He must be in so much pain - all swollen down there, thinking about you. You would be helping him. You are so selfless. With a deep breath for courage, you quickly knock and open the door.

You spot Joel in his jean shirt. His legs are spread wide while he sits, bare, on the couch. His pants wrapped around his ankles as he holds his lengthy cock in one hand. His head rests back onto his other. As he hears the door creak open, he nervously grabs hold of a pillow and covers himself. You have never once seen shock and worry on the man’s face until now.

“Shit,” he yells as he scrambles to cover himself. You play dumb, covering your gaping mouth with your hand. “I’m so sorry Joel,” you whisper. “I-I thought I heard my name so I came out here,” you slyly taunt as you end with a smirk. Joel’s usual annoyed face returns as he realizes you know the truth. “Why didn’t you just come get me?” you ask innocently as you sit on the arm rest of his couch.

Joel watches you in confusion as he recognizes your advances. “I shouldn’t have done this, I’m-” he starts. You swiftly interrupt, “No need for apologies. I’m just confused is all.” You gracefully fall beside him. Your bare thigh touching his. The tips of your fingers dance atop his thigh. His grip onto the pillow covering his unit grows tighter by the second. “I thought you didn’t care about me,” you whisper as you lean closer to his face. You are now still, a few inches from his face.

"We don't have to do this," Joel mutters. His teeth locked as he watches you. He must think he's in danger. No, its quite the opposite. "Do what, Joel?" you ask as you pull away from him. You note a chair across from him. His backpack is sprawled over it. You carefully carry the backpack and place it closer to him. To show him that you are not something to be scared of. You then turn to sit in the chair. Your legs spread open as you bite your lip. Your eyes rake over the vulnerable man in front of you.

Joel watches you. He takes in shaky breaths. It is almost as though he is more nervous, now that he understands your intent. "Don't stop on my accord," you say as you gesture towards him. You slowly cross your leg over the other, batting him off with your eye lashes. You gently laugh as you watch him sit still, uncomfortable. "Oh, I get it," you murmur with a nod. "You need help." You watch your shoulder as you slowly push your spaghetti strap off it. You do the same with the other side. When you look back at him, a smirk is shown across your face.

His eyes are darker than normal. He still holds the pillow firmly against the skin between his legs. "Don't stop, Miller," you whisper as you slowly pull your shirt up. You expose your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples immediately harden. He involuntarily bites his lip as his eyes grow full of wonder. With that, he gradually pulls the cover off and shows his enormous cock. You start salivating. Fuck, you knew it would be big.

Joel's thumb starts to move slowly up and down his shaft. His eyes now fully on you. No pulling away this time. Pleasure fills your chest as you raise your chin and open your mouth. You lick your lips, hell-bent on tasting him. He starts to smile between soft moans. His rubbing becoming quicker as your hands calmly travel up your stomach and to your tits.

His breathing shakes harder as your fingers circle your nipples. Your tongue resting gently against your bottom lip. He loves it. His moans become louder as he watches you. "Oh baby," escapes his lips as he watches your sensual movements. "The name's y/n," you whisper. You smile at the shock spreading across his face. "I want to make sure you're moaning the right girl's name this time."

"Your name's y/n," Joel mutters under his breath. His movements stop as he watches you gradually open your legs. Your shorts clearly expose your inner thighs. It shows enough to give him the slightest sneak peek. "And your name is Joel," you coo. “Does that change anything?” He scoffs. A smile spreads across his face. First time you’ve seen it and shit is it beautiful. “Not a single thing,” he mutters. “Then rub one out for me, daddy,” you whisper as your hand travels down your stomach and atop your shorts.

Joel presses his tongue against his cheek as his smile grows larger. His hand starts to rub against his hardened cock. His fingers wrapped around his girth. You bite your lip. You wish it was your hand, but you are not giving up control. “Yeah, start slow,” you murmur as you adjust in your seat. His eyes track you. His eye line at your lips, waiting for the words to just flow out.

His breathing intensifies as he drops his jaw in excitement. “Ooo, just like that,” you whisper as you try to maintain deep breaths. Your clit begins to pulsate. Begging you to jump atop of him. “What next, y/n?” he asks with a gaping mouth. He fully enunciates your name with a smirk at the end. You laugh as your brows bounce. “Hm,” you think aloud. Your finger tapping against your chin. “Have your other hand play with your balls.”

Joel’s brow raises as he’s slightly taken aback. “Don’t make me say it twice,” you playfully seethe through your teeth. He sighs with a smile as his other hand moves from atop his thigh. He cups his balls slowly. A thumb rubbing between them. You suck in a deep breath as you adjust again in your sit. You can’t get comfortable. Your body screams that the only seat you want is on his lap.

His lower jaw keeps moving as deep breaths fall from his lips. “Shit,” he breathes. His eyes close ever so slightly. “Mmm’such a good boy,” you whisper. “Let me hear you.” He gasps as the muscles in his legs begin to tighten. He lets out a low moan. One so deep your entire body shakes. You let out a hesitant breath as your hand covers your mouth. You are trying so hard to keep in control, to be the dominant one - but shit did you want him to wreck your pussy so badly.

“I know you can moan louder than that,” you murmur with a grin. Joel softly laughs and quickens his movements. His breath is fast. His eyes closed. He sits up straighter. His hand slaps against his skin. You spot precum falling from his tip. “Shit,” you mumble under your breath. His head starts to fall back. It rests against the wall. He moves faster and faster. You squeeze your thighs together, holding your breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he whines. You could just about faint. “God, you’re going to make me cum, y/n.” You dig your nails into your thighs. You want nothing more than to see this gorgeous man cum all over himself. “Cum for me, Joel,” you whisper in excitement. Your entire body feels on fire. Goosebumps travel throughout your skin. “I want your big cock deep inside me, Joel. Please cum for me,” you gripe in an innocent voice.

“Oh, fuck,” Joel moans as his brows pull together. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter than before. You hear his voice raise in pitch. Higher and higher as his body moves faster and faster. You note him thrusting into his own hand. He looks so strong. He would feel so good thrusting inside of you. Finally, his breathing fastens and he starts to moan louder than before.

“I’m cumming. I’m cumming, y/n,” he whisper yells as his body tenses up. You immediately rush in front of him. You sit on your knees as you watch the show, up close and personal. Beads of cum stream down his elongated cock as he strokes firmly. You place much effort in keeping your hands to your sides. You watch as his breaths begin to slow.

“Fuck, Joel,” you say breathless. His eyes start to open. He lets out a gentle laugh through his smiling face. You crawl between his legs. His smile quickly falling as he curiously watches you. There you sit, his softened unit before you. “Your turn to help me, Miller,” you say as you bite your lips. His smile re-emerges as his hand pushes your shoulder back towards the ground. His body slides over you until his face hovers above yours. “Yes, ma’am,” Joel whispers as he plants a kiss on your lips so hard, yet so soft, that you completely fall head over heels for the man.

note: whatcha think? joel screams sub and fuck do i love it. also episode 3?? can someone just cry with me about that real quick? shall there be a part two? 🤫

*edit: there shall be & here it is

taglist: @fan-fiction-floozy, @dirtydianaahah

reblogs are much appreciated! feel free to comment or message if you’d like to join a tag list! 🌿✨🌿

• nav • no-no plagiarism • one shot • requests open •

512 notes · View notes

dixonlvr-online-backup · 1 year

Text

REPOST from @dixonlvr-online (my main account). I’ve been having this problem for months where none of my posts show up anywhere, neither does my account. I don’t know what to do about it, so I’m reposting some of my fics here. If you enjoy the fic, please check out more at my main account :)

UPDATE: My account has been fixed so I’m moving everything back over there. The full fic is linked below, so this is just a preview. Enjoy :)

Full fic here!

Do whatever you need to get your heads on straight. This is gonna be the fight of our lives.

Earl’s words rang through your ears as you loaded your quiver with arrows. It was still light out; sun beating down on your skin and making the vertigo worse. You’d been in this situation before, many times in fact, but it never got easier. Knowing that tonight you might die because someone wanted to get their knuckles bloody. The fear that someone you cared about might die instead.

You swallowed hard, lifting your head to watch the people around you. It was quiet, an uneasy contrast to the hurried movements. No one had the words for this, this limbo period where you all awaited trial. Tonight the Whisperers would attack, and Hilltop would fall. You all knew it. There weren’t enough fighters to hold it together. Now it was just a question of who would fall with it.

From the corner of your vision, you saw him. You held in a breath, heart skipping a beat. Of course, the end of the world had come and gone for you many times, but you’d never been alone. He had always been beside you, from start to finish. Through good and bad. Until bad had gotten so bad he’d left, and the good had gotten so good he’d been too afraid to return.

Daryl met your gaze then, walking over to you as you straightened up to greet him.

“Hey. You ready for this?”

He nodded, though you saw the tension in his shoulders. It was the same posture he’d had at the prison when the Governor attacked, and Alexandria when Negan rolled up to the gates.

“Gotta make sure the kids are alright. Imma ask Ezekiel for help with that, but can ya also watch out for ‘em? In case I don’t…”

You nodded, grasping his meaning. He didn’t think he was going to survive tonight. This man, who appeared so fearless to everyone else, so confident in his abilities, was preparing to die. You’d only seen him like this once before, and the memory fought its way to the surface. You pushed it down, focusing on the man in front of you now versus that man you used to know.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

You didn’t know what else to say. If you die, how could anyone else hope to live? What happens if I die, too? We both know we’re willing to. But this was Daryl, who knew you better than anyone. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Hey, s’gonna be alrigh’.”

Your tight-lipped smile said everything. He wasn’t fooling anyone, especially not you. He scratched at the back of his neck, looking around at the others. You followed his gaze. They all had their heads down, building and sharpening weapons, treating old injuries, whatever they could do to keep their minds busy. God, how you wanted to hand them all a drink and say, Here, take the load off. The thought sparked an idea.

“Do you want to have a drink with me?”

Full fic here!

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #the walking dead

108 notes · View notes

carnivoraformes · 2 months

Text

//Don't have a headcanon tag for Aventurine but since writing things out helps me get my thoughts straight have a mishmash of thoughts I have about him. This will probably get tossed out the damn window when more information comes out about him but these are thoughts for portraying atm.

He doesn't like being real with people, in the sense he doesn't like being emotionally vulnerable.

It has been said over and over again that he clearly doesn't like having the losing hand and in his mind being vulnerable with another person is the equivalent of opening himself up to be the losing part in a battle of supremacy and therefor he can only rightfully expect for it to be used against him.

He thinks the whole opening your heart to people is a load of bullshit, a pretty thought meant for people happy being 'losers', 'pawns' and failures.

It is probably part of his Achilles heel if not a symptoms of the disease, so to speak.

He also can't fake his feelings, he has a great poker face but when the poker face isn't up he can't fake his true colors.

He is a damn good gambler, it is his metaphorical drug. It is his high and his vice but outside of his stone cold poker face he really isn't the type of man that can fake who he is.

What do I mean? I mean that he isn't one of those people that could be part of some huge crime scheme or be a horrible evil lunatic and convince the world he is just a calm, kind hearted down to earth man. There are people that could be oh so charming and their victims would never know that said person was capable of horrible things. He isn't one of those people.

With him, oh you believe it. He can't hide his nature, or at least the part of his nature that he realizes. He said so himself he likes flashy, frivolous and vain because he likes living as someone that is a pompous, arrogant prick that doesn't look any deeper into himself or other people than is strictly necessary.

Any and all of his relationships in his life are shallow and probably mostly transactional. And for it he is a very lonely man that refuses to address his own true feelings.

Most of the relationships he favors are shallow and based off what they can offer him and what he can offer them.

He is the definition of a man that most of his 'inner circle' only cares about when he has something for them or he only keeps them around when they benefit him.

His love life is full of short stints with pretty, shallow people that just want an equally attractive person to be with that allow him to spoil them rotten because while they get nice free things, he gets to feel well like he isn't pathetic and lonely while ignoring that shallow affirmation and shaky bonds with other people that don't actual care about him don't lead to a happy person.

In his mind it's perfect; he can't get hurt by a friend betraying him or lover spurring him and breaking his heart if neither of these people matter him in the first place.

Probably one of his biggest subconscious fears is of the idea of someone that can see right through him but at the same time he wants that, whether that be platonic, romantic or familial.

He is an example of the man with the biggest ego, but that ego is like porcelain. He knows he is shallow, he knows that people will usually just look at him, see a rich pompous prick with a thoroughly dislikeable personality.

That is something of a gilded cage, he feels safe in it but it is also isolating and depressing.

That said the second he realized someone one is starting to see below the surface his gut reaction would probably go straight to a more passive version of fight or flight. And his automatic reaction would probably be more along the lines of flight.

He wouldn't flat out run, oh no his poor ego would never recover from not only feeling himself even slightly be laid bare before another person but also prove them right by running like a child. How he would actual react is probably dependent on the situation but there would be some hint of fight of flight going on there somewhere.

#*conure screaming intensifies* (ooc) //#//hello i stayed up knowing i have an mri first thing in the morning #//but i had thoughts #//good night

2 notes · View notes

seacee16 · 6 months

Text

when petals fall | bangchan

bang chan x original female character

warnings: none

prev chapter // next chapter

!! FULL STORY ON AO3 !!

ch. 22 ~ when enchanted roads part

It was Sunday night, and as per usual, Chan sat in his little studio with an audience of thousands watching his smiling face. He scrolled through the waves of comments coming through, answering questions and laughing at the odd pick-up lines thrown his way.

“’Chan, you look tired’”, a comment read, causing the leader to laugh softly. “Would I even be Bang Chan of Stray Kids if I weren’t tired?”

The comment section blew up in amused remarks, bringing out the truth to his statement. However, his laughter ceased, and his smile – his façade – dropped ever so slightly. Chan slumped back in his chair; head tilted up with closed eyes for a moment. He let out a shaky sigh. Maybe, he thought.

“Actually, STAY,” he started nervously. “I have been feeling more tired these days, and not just the usual comeback season kind of exhaustion. I don’t know,” he chuckled awkwardly, fingers playing with the draw strings of his signature dark hoodie. “I guess the sky has just felt too heavy to manage on my own lately.

“But I’ll be okay. I have STAY, and I have the members who always look out for me, even when they think I don’t notice it.” And I have her, Chan thought, his smile faltering. “I know that I have a lot of people who would be there for me when I need it, so I am beyond grateful. You all know me as this fearless leader who takes every burden upon himself to spare as many feelings as possible, but I’ve started to learn that sharing really is caring. That I should be able to share my burdens with the people who care about me, and visa versa. Because that’s what you do for the people you love. You carry the weight of their sky when they feel too weak to keep it up themselves.”

Chan watched as hearts flooded the comment section, filling his chest with a new warmth. Sakura had been right. He didn’t have to be strong for them. All they wanted was for him to be happy and healthy.

“The next song that I am going to play was suggested by STAYS. Let’s go!” Chan clicked on his mouse and watched as the video began to play on the monitor in front of him. A soft guitar was heard through the speakers as the old Swift song flooded the small studio.

Your eyes whispered ‘Have we met?’

Cross the room your silhouette starts to make its way to me.

Chan felt his mind drift with the melody, helpless to the memories of that night that surfaced with the flowing instrumental. The shadow dancing below the dull street lights, drawing him in like the tide. The way her eyes met his through the darkness, sparkling with a kind of familiarity that he had overlooked. They were kind eyes. Sweet eyes. Eyes that held no hostility or judgement. Then she smiled, and her dance continued. Then came her voice. Light and snarky, nipping at him playfully as if they hadn’t just met. She was the most familiar stranger. Their meeting was far from accidental. The dalliance was fated, their strings knotting tighter with each word.

He sat in silence as the lyrics crossed the screen, absorbing every strum and interpretation. Despite the steady inflow of comments from his livestream, Chan couldn’t bring himself to look at them. All he could think about was her.

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go.

He thought about the way the Seoul skyline shone in the ripples along the surface of the Han River. Long beams of light shattering into a glowing scatter of glitter with every dip of her fingertips into the cool water. He watched her, wondering how the icy liquid failed to make her shiver. She just sat there, crouched at the river’s edge as she admired the view. All the while, Chan had simply been admiring her.

The song played on, much longer than what the idol would usually play it. Soon, the bridge was heard and Chan felt his heard clench with every word.

This is me praying that this was the very first page, not where our storyline ends.

He never admitted it, but Chan knew that things had changed since their first fated meeting. That he was different.

My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again.

Over the days that they had been apart, all he could think about was her. The way he saw traces of her in everything. The stars he saw walking back to the dorm, the faint smell of paint in the air as he passed Hyunjin’s room, the cracked headphones still laying on his desk. It was impossible to erase her existence from his memory, no matter how hard he tried. No matter how much the thought of her hurt him.

Chan thought about the way she looked at their album release. He had tried to play it off, but, in the room full of executives and people of importance, finding her in the crowd came as easy as breathing. He had always loved how she looked in purple tones. The way the colour looked against her skin. The skirt of her lavender dress drifted just below her knees, a cream jersey hanging loosely over her shoulders. She looked beautiful. She always did. There had been a distance between them, but Chan had no trouble spotting the smear of baby blue on the side of her neck, only visible when she turned her head to speak to one of his members. It took all of his strength not to walk over to her and wipe away the paint, to drag his thumb over the skin of her jaw.

He hadn’t been able to rid her face from his mind since. And he tried.

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon.

The image of her walking away from him that night struck him hard. His very thoughts from that moment repeating in his mind. I love you. Her face held a perfectly crafted smile, one made to comfort the hurting. However, her eyes were broken. Torn. Dreading every step added to the distance between them. I love you. They had only just gotten to know one another. There was no much more than he wanted to find out. What it was like to study in Japan? When her love for animals started? How she got the small scar on the side of her left hand, and how he could keep her safe from ever getting hurt again? Chan wanted to know everything about her, even if it took a lifetime.

I love you. I love you. Stay.

Suddenly, he was back on that beach in Jeju. The memory of the cold water lapping at his ankles, the wind pushing against his back, and her fingers pulling at his hair. Her lips. Sea salt and spearmint. A taste that would never wipe from his memory. That night, he had made a silent prayer to the stars watching them. He asked them to let him keep that memory for the rest of his life. He asked to never forget the feeling of her curled up in his arms. Despite how silly it seemed, he prayed. He wanted her. More than anything. The image flashed through his mind. The moonlight shining down on her, causing her eyes to glow. She had been wrong that night. He wasn’t the sun. No matter how brightly he shone, her glow would always be stronger. In the equation of them, he was the flower and she the sun to which he grew. Chan thought about kissing her as gently as the moon caressed her skin. It was all he thought about that night, the idea of sleep far from sight. It was as if she had a spell over him. An enchantment.

I was enchanted to meet you.

Chan paused the song abruptly, forgetting to let the melody fade out like he usually did. He blinked. Once. Twice. Then he looked up at the comments flowing across the screen. Some were full of hearts; some were worried by his silence. But all that he could see was the distorted reflection of his own face staring back at him. For the first time, Chan saw the love in his eyes. The same love that his members saw whenever he spoke about Sakura.

“Uhm, I think I’ll have to end today’s live here. I just remembered that I promised the kids that I wouldn’t be home too late. They’ve been on my case about getting enough sleep lately,” Chan lied, hoping that the eyes watching him would be blinded by his guilty laugh and their knowledge of his bad sleeping habits. While a handful of the newer comments begged him to stay, majority of them reassured him that it was okay, telling him to get as much rest as he could. He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t stay up too late, STAY. I’ll see you all next week.” The boy proceeded to hug the camera, before sitting back down and finishing off in his usual pose.

The live ended with the click of a button, and Chan wasted no time in gathering his things before dashing out of the room. The door swung shut behind him, leaving the dark room lit by the forgotten monitor screen, still frozen on the lyrics that had pulled on his heartstrings. And as it shut down, the next line faded away.

Please don’t be in love with someone else.

<3 <3 <3

It didn’t take long for Chan to find her. It was a long shot, but deep down, he knew where she would be. Where she always was. And there he found her, watching the ripples dance over the surface of the Han River. Sakura was bundled up in a thick brown coat, the collar pulled up to her chin to keep out the cold. She looked warm, but her eyes were glossy and cold. His walk – or run – over to the park had consisted of him mentally preparing a speech to get her to give them a chance. To give him a chance. He wanted to be the one she called when she was drunk and heartbroken. He wanted to be the one to hold her on the difficult nights, and laugh with her during the happy days. He wanted her firsts and lasts and everything in between for as long as she allowed. A string of wishes on his tongue, yet every one of them forgotten as soon as she was in sight.

“I don’t want you to be in love with someone else!”

His declaration was loud, carried by the strong wind over the span of empty space between them. And even from a distance, Chan could see the way her body tensed up.

“Whether its Kazuki or some other guy you happen to meet along the way. I don’t want you to love somebody who isn’t me.” He approached her slowly, just like he had that first night. He was scared she would run before he could say everything on his mind. “I know I made the wrong decision. I do that sometimes. I’m not perfect. I make mistakes as much as the next man. But, Sakura, going to the river to see you again that night was the best decision I have ever made.”

It took a moment, but she finally turned to face him. Both arms were crossed over her torso in a hug, shielding her from whatever hurt may come her way. Tired eyes and cold-tinted nose, Sakura still looked perfect to him. Her eyes moved around nervously.

“Chan-“

“No, you’re not pushing me away this time. You were right. I do care about what the media says about the kids. I’d be a terrible leader if I didn’t. But I also care about you, Sakura. And I care about me, and I care about who I am when you’re with me. I have been so painfully selfless for years. It’s my turn to be selfish. This is what I want. I want this. Fuck, I want you, petal. So, I refuse to give up on this when we haven’t even tried.”

Sakura stilled, thinking over his words. The pause made his fingers pulse anxiously, his heart hammering beneath his ribs as he waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke.

“There’s something I need to know. Please.” Chan nodded.

“That night. I told you that I loved- that I love you. I didn’t give you a chance to say anything back because I knew that if you did, I wouldn’t have the strength to walk away from you. But I need to know. Did you ever feel the same way?”

“You’re really asking me that?” Chan asked in disbelief. Had I really not been obvious enough with my feelings towards her? Did she really not know?

Sakura dropped her head, hiding her face from his gaze. “Please, just tell me.”

With a soft chuckle, Chan walked up to her. His hands cupped her face and tilted it up, forcing her golden eyes to meet his own. There was something in his gaze that she had only ever seen in videos. When he was at the centre of his universe, staring out at the stars. It was raw and beautiful. It took her breath away.

“Since that very first night,” he whispered into the space between them. “Sakura Itõ. I fell for you. I fell for you like a house of cards in a hurricane. Like a sandcastle at the mercy of a wave.”

Chan leaned closer, until her lips were a single breath away from his own. “I yearned for you the way Icarus prayed for freedom, and, like he to the sun, I can’t help but be weak in your presence.” Their noses touched. A small brush of skin. He saw her eyes close in a blink, felt her eyelashes graze his cheek tenderly. “I am so deeply in love with you, Sakura. My heart is yours.”

It was gradual, but he watched as her lips pulled up into a smile. One brighter than all the others she had shown him. Her eyes curved downwards, pinching at its corners.

“I swear to god, Christopher, if you don’t kiss me right now-“

“Way ahead of you, petal.”

In an instant, his lips were lowered to hers, smiling at the contact. He felt her smile back, wrapping her arms around her neck as his own snaked around her waist. She was so happy that he could taste it. Her joy as she soft lips molded together with his own. They were soft, sweet, just the way he remembered them to be that night on the beach. Since that day, he had wanted nothing more than to hold her close to him like that again. So close that their bodies knotted together, hearts intertwined. He could feel the warmth of her skin radiating through her thin cardigan.

Like Icarus to the sun.

When they had no air to spare in their burning lungs, they pulled away, never leaving the others arms. Sakura couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from her face as the man pressed small kisses on her cheeks, covering her face in his adoration for. She pulled him closer, memorizing the feelings of having him so close. She was determined to remember it all.

“It’s blue,” she said to no one in particular, as she reached up to play with his hair. It hadn’t been styled like the last time she saw him, now laying limp over his forehead.

Chan chuckled. “Do you like it?”

“Very much. I’ve always had a thing for blue hair,” she confessed, running her hand through the waves. A content sigh floated past his lips. When their laughter ceased, and there was a hint of quiet in the air, Chan whispered, “Don’t go, Sakura.”

Her eyes widened. “How did you-“

“Hyunjin saw the ticket when he met with you. He told me a few nights ago.” Sakura’s head fell forward, embarrassed to have been caught.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, no,” Chan rushed, cradling her face in his palms so that she would look at him. Her eyes had begun to mist. The boy frowned at the sight, wasting no time in pressing a series of small kisses to her pouted lips in hopes of a smile. “It’s okay. I understand why you wouldn’t have told me. Things weren’t that great with us back then. I’m not mad, petal, I swear.” He brushed stray her long bangs out of her face, tucking it behind her ear gently. “I really don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go,” she told him truthfully. Chan would have found hope in her words had it not been for the frown that deepened on her face. “But I have to if I want to be settled in before the semester starts.”

What?

“Semester?” Chan’s face lit up a moment later. “You got in?!” Despite the sadness she felt, Sakura managed to flash him a genuine smile. His excitement was contagious.

She squealed as the male wrapped both arms around her, spinning around with the girl tucked tightly in his arms. The sound of their laughter echoed through the darkness surrounding them.

When she was finally back on her own two feet, Sakura felt him reach up to hold her face once more. When she looked at him, she failed to see anything other than pure adoration. It made her heart flutter.

“I am so unbelievably proud of you, Sakura. You’re going to do great; I just know it.”

“But-“

“It’s okay,” he replied before her doubt could set in. He knew what she was going to say. And as much as he wanted her to stay, Chan knew that it wouldn’t be right to keep her there. Not when she had worked so hard for her future. “I will be cheering for you every step of the way, petal.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, “for being the happiness I needed.”

One last time, Sakura let her hands push back the hair covering his forehead, savouring the feeling of his soft curls between her fingers. She noticed when his eyelids fell, and the ragged exhale that followed. Maybe he was trying to savour it too. When her hands cupped his face, his own lifted to cover hers, cold skin against warm. She felt the way he squeezed her hands. The action was a silent plea for her to stay, even when his lips had told her to go.

“I guess this is where you leave,” he whispered. The words tore its claws along the length of her heart, sending wave after wave of pain as every memory with the boy resurfaced. He didn’t want to let her go. For once in his life, Chan wanted to be selfish. He wanted her.

“Leaving doesn’t mean forgetting, Chan.”

“But it does lead to change. Memories, lives…feelings.” Sakura choked down a whimper.

Rip off the band-aid. You need to be strong. Please do not falter.

She watched the way his beautiful face contorted in sadness.

I’m sorry, Chan. Forgive me.

“Can you look at me?”

Chan remained still, not wanting to see the look on her face when she said goodbye. He didn’t want to face the anguish that was so clear in her voice alone. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Her words were a slow and merciless pain that he begged would end, but he knew that the end would only come when she left. He was torn.

“I always loved your eyes,” he heard her say. “There was never a moment where your eyes lied. So honest and beautiful.”

He felt her words creep in, and before he knew it, he was staring right back into her misty eyes. They smiled back at him. A sad smile. He hated it.

“Nothing will change how I feel about you. Okay? There were days where the thought of meeting you seemed impossible, but now that we’ve met – now that I have you in my life – Chan, I can’t even imagine a world where our paths didn’t cross the way they did. So, I need you to know that whether you forget-“

“You said leaving doesn’t mean forgetting,” he repeated her words, not liking where her sentence was heading. “I’m not going to forget you, Sakura. I don’t want to forget you.”

“Let me finish, please.” The last word hung in the air like a ghost, barely there. The girl leaned forward until her forehead rested against his. “You live a life infinitely different to mine. You’ll go one tours and I’ll sit in boring lecture halls. Nothing is guaranteed in this world. W-We may not meet again. It could be tomorrow, or in a month, or a year. But I need you to know this. I’ll always be there. Chan, whether you forget me or not, I will love you either way.”

Chan opened his mouth to speak, but the girl covered his lips with her own. It was a brief kiss, enough to stop the words from leaving his mouth.

“Don’t,” she begged against his lips, each breath shared. “Don’t say it.”

“But-“

She kissed him again, a little harder than the first time. Chan’s hands cradled her face gently, while her own dropped to grasp the lapels of his blazer.

When she pulled away, she said, “Don-“

“I love you.”

It was impossible not to see the worship in his eyes as he stared at her, begging her to listen to him. And she did. Three words were all it took to make her heart burn in her chest. She wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. She wanted to kiss him and never pull away. God, she loved him. So wholly and to every corner of the universe. He was her living, breathing heart.

Sakura shook her head, lightly punching his hard chest. It only made him pull her closer, his heartbeat felt against her own chest. “You never listen.”

“I blame the hours in the studio, and the millions of screaming fans. It’s made me a little hard of hearing.”

“You’re insufferable, Christopher.”

“You mean irresistible.”

“I mean irritating,” she shot back.

“Adorable.”

“Conceited.”

“Confident.”

“Aggravating.”

“I love you.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Chan finished, a Cheshire cat grin plastered on his face. And she did.

Sakura pulled on his hoodie and met him in the space between. She let herself memorize every taste and smell and feeling in that moment.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered against the curve of her lips. “For us. Please, don’t try to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“I lied,” he admitted, this time pulling away from her lips slightly. “That night when I said that I wasn’t experienced with the concept of love. I was afraid of the word. Love is permanent, but fleeting all the same. I know what love is because of them, Sakura. The kids. I’d do anything for those seven, and that’s what love is, isn’t it? Because of them, I know what love is because I love them. And I know that I love you.”

Desperate to hide the tremor in her lip, she wrapped her arms around his neck, hiding her face in the warmth of his neck. She felt his arms wind around her waist the way it had so many times before, encasing her completely. The warmth of his body against hers fought off any cold that grazed her skin. She listened to the hammering of his heart, wishing for nothing more than to listen to the sound for the rest of her life. The rhythm was perfect, lulling, singing her name in praise with each steady ba-dum. A slow series of kisses were laid in a path from the top of her head, down the side of her face and neck, until they reached her shoulder. In between each kiss, Chan whispered a light ‘I love you’, forever imprinting the sound of his voice into her memory.

When she finally brought herself to pull away, she told him, “You are not rose, nor fox. Your heart should never be tamed by another. At least, not right now. It should be wild and free and filled with blinding love in a world choking on its own darkness. That is how you will stay unique. It is how you will always be the person that I love, Chan.”

The man let a sad smile slip onto his face. He stared down at the girl he had come to love with his entire being, taking in her light for a final time. “I believe that we will have our time. It may not be right now, but it will come. No matter how far apart we are, you will always be my one unique rose. No one can take that place, petal,” he vowed, tucking a wind-blown strand of hair behind her ear.

“Rose. Petal. That’s why you call me petal?” The boy nodded. “I always thought it was because of my name.”

The pair stood in silence, savouring their final moments together before reality pulled them apart. Chan lifted her hand to his face, and – with eyes locked on hers – he pressed a delicate kiss to her wrist. One final act of comfort. Confirmation that she would be okay. Her response came in both palms cupping his face, lifting to her toes to kiss each dimple with trembling lips for one final time. Her nose brushed his cheek as she moved to the other dip, savoring the feel of his smooth skin beneath her kiss. With hearts yearning to hang on, they finally let go. Each took a step back, one larger than the other. Both equally as hesitant. However, Sakura was the one to take a few more steps back while Chan watched her in the eerie quiet of the night.

Once she stood far enough away from him, so far that her voice would be but a whisper once it reached him, she stopped.

“See you around, stranger,” she called out, keeping a content smile on her face. It was a smile that Chan would never forget. Despite the tears glistening along her laugh lines, her grin was wide and sincere. She was more than happy to have her heart broken by him.

“Until then, petal. I’ll be waiting.”

<3 <3 <3

Seven pairs of ears peaked at the sound of the keypad at the front door, the squeak of the hinges following shortly after as their leader entered the dorm. They had seen his live. They knew why he had left so abruptly after the final song. They knew. So, they waited up, ready to take on every storm cloud that followed him.

When he entered the main living space, Chan wasn’t surprised to see all of them sitting around. He had expected it. The eldest wanted to ask why they were all still awake at such a late hour. He wanted to tease them about getting enough sleep and shoo them to bed before his façade cracked. The words from his live hung fresh in his mind.

“Hyung.”

One word. It took one word for all of Chan’s walls to dissolve, leaving behind a hurting heart. He tried to smile, tried to choke down the sob in his throat, but his friend’s voice was so gentle and so worried and he missed her so much that it pained him. She was going to leave, and all he could do was pray that their paths would cross again. But there was no certainty. There never was.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Hyunjin standing beside him. The younger boy extended his hand, a lilac envelope in his grasp.

“You should read it, hyung.”

The boy motioned for the rest of the members to leave the room to give their leader some privacy, but Chan stopped them. Desperate to not be alone as he discovered the contents of the letter. “Stay. Please.”

A smile graced each face in the room as they remained in their seats, watching silently as the letter unfolded in his hands.

My most unique Chan,

You once told me that people make the worst decisions when they are drunk, but we are proof that that is not true. I wasn’t drunk when I first told you my name, and you weren’t drunk the night you told me to stay. And while our happy-intoxicated choices were far from the worst, its outcomes have led us to where we are now, and it is the worst I have felt in a while.

We are not at fault. We did nothing wrong. No one can shame us for our feelings. I was not wrong for letting you into my life and you were not wrong for kissing me. You said it yourself. You’re human. So, I truly hope you aren’t beating yourself up about what happened. My sweet Chan, you did nothing wrong, okay?

If you’re reading this, then you may already know that I’m leaving. I’m sorry. I came to Seoul as an escape from the pain of otōsan’s passing. It was meant to be a time to clear my head and figure out what was next. But in my stay, I began to fear my return home, and delayed the inevitable for as long as possible. Now, I know what I want. I’ve accepted the next chapter of my life and the absence that will always follow me in some way. Because of you, I was able to face the voice in the waves and let go of a weight I once thought would always pull me down. Thank you. I can only hope that I have helped you as much as you have helped me. If I can say one thing: listen to those kids. Let them in. Allow them to support you the way you support them. Even pillars need a strong foundation. It’s okay to wallow in the shade of your clouds sometimes, but don’t wallow alone. Sit in the company of those seven boys who love you and wait. Just until the rain stops. And when it does, let yourself enjoy the sunshine for once. You’re allowed to be happy with the simple things.

You are the warmth of the sun on the coldest of winter days. My apricity. My northern lights. My little prince. You have tamed me. I’ll admit that I tried to fight it at first. I didn’t want to burn myself with a flame I had created. But it didn’t. You kept me warm, thawed out the cold, and gave me light in the middle of the dark. Now, I am forever yours to love and break. The whole point of The Little Prince is to not only see things as what they are, but what they could be, and when I’m with you, that is all I can do. Think about what we could be. I wanted you to be the one I cry to. I wanted to be the one who bears the weight of the world with you. I wanted it to be us so badly, Chan. I pray that one day it is. You are tangled into my soul, our strings of fate woven like a web.

You make me so undeniably happy, Chan. You must know that. Everything seemed better after you approached me at the river that day. Brighter. I wanted to smile again, because I knew that if I did, you would smile too. instead of this dull ghost of the person I once was, I started to see myself in a new light. Glowing and shining. And like the sun and the moon, I only shine because of you.

Thank the boys for me. I wish I could have spent more time with them all. I will remember Jeju for the rest of my life. Each of you made it a little easier on me without even knowing it, and for that I’m grateful. Their laughter filled the place of sadness and I can’t imagine how it would have been without you. I wish I had more time with them. There are so many recipes I would have wanted to learn from Felix, and there are so many books I wanted to recommend to Jisung. Percy Jackson is just the tip of the iceberg. I need you to thank Hyunjin too. He saw a lot of the worse of me, and every time he stayed without judgement. He is a great friend. They all are. You are truly lucky, Chan.

I believe that our story is not over yet, but I will be patient until the next chapter. I won’t say I’ll miss you. I am content in knowing that I have parts of you with me for the rest of my life. Your thoughts on my favourite movie. The songs you played when we were alone. The feeling in my chest when you kissed me in the waves. You are everywhere, and so I know I will never be alone again. Neither will you.

I will love you in every orbit, Nemo.

Yours,

Sakura

He reached out blindly, hands finding the outstretched arms of the other Australian as he tried to pull himself together. They couldn’t seem him like that. He had to be strong.

They have as much right to look out for you the same way that you do for them, Chan. You need to learn to let them look after you.

Sakura’s words echoed through his head, and slowly, he gave his tears permission to fall.

Lee Know stood from his place on the couch and walked up to him. Without the usual hesitation, the second eldest wrapped his arms around the leader, lightly guiding his face to rest in between his neck and shoulder. The dancer hummed softly, hearing the man sniffle and hiccup in his embrace. On the inside, he was smiling sadly. They all were. Because Chan was allowing them to help him, and that was all they ever wanted.

“It’s okay, hyung. We’re here.” One by one, the remaining five members approached them, joining in on the group hug, their leader trapped at the very centre of their love.

“Don’t worry, Lee Know. I’m okay.”

“But you don’t have to be,” Changbin replied, his hand resting on the leader’s back.

Jisung nodded, and added, “It’s okay to be sad, hyung.”

And it was. It was okay because he knew that he loved her, and that she loved him. It was okay to be sad over giving up something that made him so happy.

So, Chan grabbed onto the members closest to him and let his tears fall freely.

“Thank you,” he whispered in a voice too weak to hear.

He passed on his sky, and felt as it grew lighter than it had been in years. All because of his seven precious brothers. His chosen family.

His home.

#angst #bang chan #changbin #comfort #fluff #han jisung #hyunjin #i.n #lee felix #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #kim seungmin #seungmin #fanfic #you make stray kids stay #skz stay #stray kids #Spotify

2 notes · View notes

xiaolumi-love · 7 months

Note

hello my friend alice the druid :3 i loved my last reading and im here for another one!!! thank you again 💖 i would like to know if there's anything i should know about my source of income right now

yaaay yaaaay hello my dear friend cinna. 🥺💕 thank you so much for commissioning me. i'm very happy to share my insight with you today! 🍃🦋

your tarot reading:

what does cinna's source of income situation look like right now?

2 of Cups -- something profound is occurring. it looks like your current trajectory holds the opportunity for a business partnership or people who truly touche(s) your soul and makes you feel fulfilled. you may already have the resources and/or connections for it, or it may be on the way. whatever the case, be on the lookout for opportunities and situations where you can find someone or more than one someone who truly speaks to you as a human being.

The Fool -- this Major Arcana card suggests the theme of this reading. new beginnings are on the horizon, and it may be time to dive off the cliff into the ocean below. you may be scared to take that leap. you may be battered by the winds a bit as you dive. breaching the surface of the waters might be rough, too. but you may find that what you discover below the surface is a teaming coral reef full of colour and vivacity, crystal clear waters showing you your chosen path with iridescent light and magic. wonders await, but you'll need to put in the effort. you'll need to take a leap of faith. you can have courage, because this brand new beginning has the potential to make all your dreams come true.

10 of Wands -- your current situation appears to be really heavy. this is a card of responsibilities and burdens, but also of being so close to the finish line. you can ask for help, you know! sometimes it's hard to because we have always been rejected or our needs have been unmet when we do ask. but you need to know that not everyone will turn you away, and no one is a mind-reader. you need to communicate your needs! and you need to prioritise them yourself as well. it can be difficult when you're used to prioritising everyone else but please know you deserve to have your psychological, physical material and spiritual needs met just as much as anyone else. you deserve the good in the world. you deserve to find a source of income that doesn't just provide for your needs, but also for your desires. so you can ask for help, you can delete unnecessary tasks, you can put yourself first.

Knight of Pentacles in reverse -- this card delivers the idea that you may be stagnating right now, or perhaps focusing solely on wealth. you may be preoccupied, distracted, deprioritizing what's important. your soul or heart has a measure of health just as much as your mind and body. remember to nurture it with steady care to lay the foundations of your life. remember that by living by being true to what you want to be, do and are is so important for the wellbeing of your soul. only you can decide where to go from here, only you can decide what your soul needs for it to be healthy, but remember that by being creative you will find enrichment of all kinds in life. and with this success, wealth will pour in naturally.

your oracle reading:

what does cinna need to know right now regarding its source of income?

Bear Spirit for healing -- as you wander the winter wonderland forest, you come face to face with a bear. it reaches out and touches its nose to yours. it looks at you with gentleness, warmth and love. you feel safe. you feel comforted. you feel whole. this spirit is letting you know that profound healing is underway. you're healing right now, and you're going to heal, too. by progressing down whichever path you choose regarding your income, you will find yourself and you will connect with people and you will heal yourself. you will heal what has been broken regarding your material wealth.

Pine Spirit for purification -- it's still winter as you wander, and you brush up against a pine tree, displacing some snow. you find that the touch makes you feel an internal shift. you hear a soft giggle of delight from the spirit as you find that you're feeling cleansed from head to toe, like a renewal of spirit, mind and body. pine is an antiseptic and antibacterial substance, and is used in many rituals and ceremonies in indigenous cultures across the globe. this spirit is reminding you to take the time to practice extreme self-care. try to clutter-clear your home, take long showers or baths, eat well, and empty your mind by journalling or talking to a friend or allowing yourself to cry. maybe even make yourself experience catharsis by watching media! you will find that the more you do these things (the more you take care of yourself), the more comfortable and at peace you will feel, no matter the circumstances. this card could also be an indication of the process of finding your source of income purifying you, and allowing you to get in touch with your true self.

Pegasus for transcending -- as you come across a clearing in the snow, a Pegasus stands before you. he waits for you to climb onto his back, and then takes off into the skies with you. you soar above the forest, looking out across the snow-covered trees and fields. you find that all your doubts and hesitation are all falling away, and you find that you can see everything from up here. Pegasus indicates that it may be time to take a more transcendental perspective. it may be time to ease back on the material aspect of gaining wealth, and focus on your goals, dreams and aspirations. what makes you feel fulfilled to do, and how can you take baby steps to get there? what do you really want to do with your life? what do you want to accomplish? why? ask yourself these questions and more, and really reflect on them. perhaps what you need isn't just a new job, or lots of money, but a whole change of perspective. perhaps you need to get to the core of what's important to you and try to achieve something for yourself going forward. (which isn't to say you haven't achieved anything already.) in this economical climate chasing your dreams, being creative and finding fulfillment are some of the greatest challenges of all, but even if the chances are unlikely, the possibility is still not zero that you can accomplish them. so trust in your heart. trust in yourself. trust in whatever it is you believe in. you will find your way.

thank you for reading cinna! i hope this serves you well. 💕🍃🦋✨

this is a commissioned reading. for your chance of similar treatment, see my pinned for information, rules and terms and conditions.

2 notes · View notes

albino-whumpee · 1 year

Text

Fallen Bridges

...eheheh.

Hope you like this. Can´t believe I´m actually working on this.

Taglist:

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn-blog@ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @wingedwhump @unicornscotty @melancholy-in-the-morning

Please tell me if you wish to be added or taken out of the taglist!

CW//Pet whump, emotional whump, failed escape attempt, recapture, ptsd, grief, mentions of child death, suicidal ideation, shock collars, ghosts and angst. so much angst.

He couldn´t breathe. Even if he knew it was useless to try to escape, he didn´t stop running. Just to make sure he wasn't followed, he turned his head, making himself trip down a short hill. He rolled and crashed against a puddle on the side of the road.

However, for a second, the two centimeter puddle became a lake where his head was submerged and kept there a minute. Then two. Screams became bubbles that popped when they reached the surface.

With a gasp, he returned to reality, paddling and slamming his back against the busted pipe the water was pouring from.

Albus gasped like a fish out of the water, the telltales of a panic attack taking his lungs captive.

He couldn´t stop, he wasn´t safe, but where was safe? Was there a place like that for him? He pulled himself up…only to fall back on his elbows when his legs refused to stop shaking violently.

His heart was pounding so hard he feared it would beat out of his chest.

“Calm down! You gotta calm down, Albus! This is all a big mistake,” he screamed inside his head, his pitiful attempts at breathing only making his chest clench harder.

“This is all a big misunderstanding. I- I didn´t-” he said, clenching a hand over his chest with a pained groan. “M-Mister Claude just- just... had an episode,” he tried to reason between pants “M-Mister Claude didn´t mean t-to put on the collar…” he half laughed between huffs, immediately stopping when his trembling fingers passed around the box of the shock collar. The electrodes punctured into his skin with how tight the collar had been cinched.

The pet´s forehead began to pearl with sweat.

“I-I had nothing to do with what happened,” He said as memories of rushing, of panic at being chased rushed through him as he looked at the road, where a van passed by at full speed and then…

Turning and turning and turning…

He held his head in his hands and shut his eyes.

“I wasn´t there! It wasn´t my fault!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, shaking his head from side to side. After a second he said lower, almost in a whisper, “How the hell could I have gotten out?! I didn't do it!” he screamed as tears began to fill his eyes. When he opened them, drops of rain began to drop on his face. “It's impossible…”

Don´t worry, Al, the clouds will cry for you.

That tiny voice told him again. He had broken into tears when he saw the sky a long time ago. But that day…it was a sunny day.

People shouldn't die on sunny days.

The boy was silent for a long time then, before a bitter laugh escaped his lips.

“I didn´t kill them…right?” his voice shattered as he dropped his head. The rain carried his tears until he curled into himself and sobbed.

If it was true, if his dreams of the road and the van were of his owner´s, then.

“What kind of sick joke is this?!” he shouted, punching the mud puddle forming below him.

Of all the places he could have ended up, he ended with the people whose lives he ruined? The person who picked him and gave him a chance to be a person and not just her pet. The person he took care of when pain was too much for his body to forget, the person he detested and the person he loved more than anything…he ruined their lives.

And, as if that wasn´t enough, he had taken their most precious people's lives, too.

Right there in the middle of nowhere a pitiful pet crashes down and cries for sins that can not be forgiven.

It was his fault.

All of it.

Albus screamed until his head pounded.

“Why did it have to go like this? This wasn´t supposed to happen!” he punched the ground below him again before curling into himself, cradling his wounded abdomen. Mister Claude had never laid a finger on him. Mistress Sarahi had always loosened up his collar to sleep. He was so comfortable with his life, he had forgotten she had bought tools to punish him.

A terrifying thought crossed his mind then.

Did she know? From the beginning?

He shook his head. No, if she had known from the beginning, a shock collar would have been the first thing she would have given him.

She would've given him to Robert as a gift, if she had known.

The rain began to pour when he passed his hand over his throat, the shock collar undeniably wrapping firmly against it.

He had been so scared of being returned, he had forgotten he could still be punished while living as her pet? No, not even him had gotten that naive. But he had thought he had done everything in his power to avoid that.

How was he supposed to know he had already failed before they even met?

He pushed himself up to continue walking. Once they found him, it was over for him. Being returned was the least of his concerns. He knew his owners. Or at least, he knew them enough to know returning him wouldn´t be the end of it. Even if it weren´t them, that would never be enough punishment.

He halted as the rain slowly began to turn into hail.

Then what would be enough? What kind of things could they do to him to make him pay? What kind of torture would be enough to make someone pay for that? Would he be the only one to receive such a punishment?

“S-Sann!” he shouted, urgently taking a step towards the house, but stopping. “...he has nothing to do with this, in any case, he is also a victim…”

Albus stared at the road for a second before his lips curved into a smile that didn´t reach his eyes.

“Don´t worry, Sann. You won´t see me again after you leave” he looked down at his soaked clothes then. It wasn´t him he should be worrying about, but his former owner.

His gut churned so hard he wavered.

What would he do if he knew? The mere thought made his bones quiver. He took a deep breath before lifting his eyes in the direction of her house. “Even when things have turned like this, you wouldn´t break your promise with me, right, ma´am?”

As if to answer for her, the storm roared.

He clenched his teeth hard.

He could do nothing but pray she would.

Albus was tracing a route in his head when he turned his head up to find a little boy before him.

His breathing stopped as he watched the kid crouch. The rain passing through his body, the only giveaway to what exactly he was actually seeing.

“Charlie…” his voice trembled as the little boy smiled at him.

The boy says something so low it takes him a solid minute to understand what it meant, but before he can even try to reply, the ghost is gone.

He was still processing the kid´s words when he catches something from the corner of his eye. But he can´t react fast enough to avoid being tackled down and expertly have his hands handcuffed.

“Get me the muzzle!” an agent from the recovery team screams as he pins Albus down on the mud.

–

“Claude!” Sarahi yelled at the man entering through the main door. “Did you find him?”

The man shook his head.

“Maybe it's better this way. Sann always went on walks with him. If someone knows in what kind of hole that rat would go hide into-”

“Claude…” Sarahi cut him, making the man´s frown grow tighter, before he sighed.

“I´m repulsed by myself. Knowing we took care of that- that murderer!”

“Claude! Please…stop it” Sarahi had wrapped herself in the living room´s blanket, still shaking like a leaf after having called the police to inform of her runaway pet.

A runaway…In the end, he did end up escaping.

She was wondering if the slight relief in her stomach was because of that when Claude sat next to her to pull her into a hug.

“Sarahi…” he called sweetly before she pushed him away. His eyes blew wide before his face twisted into anger he could barely contain “I know he was your pet, but you can´t seriously think that-!”

“I can't seriously think what? That I can't be bitter that my own pet turned out to be the reason I ever needed a pet?! The reason I was left all alone?!” at her screaming, the man shut up.

“...You aren't alone. You have me," he whispered.

Sarahi let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I have you.” to the man, that simple phrase felt like a knife drove directly through his heart. “If it's the day we all become honest, then tell me Claude, where the hell did you learn all this about Albus, hm? I'm sure the Glass residence isn´t a place that would have that kind of information”

Claude stayed silent for a second. “It's a lot more complicated than you think. Sarahi, I-”

“Do you think I wouldn't notice you were lying? C´mon, Claude. Where the hell have you been working until now?”

Claude´s face turned darker and darker as he carefully explained to her. Word after word, a new wrinkle of horror appeared on her face, until she jumped up and rushed to take her car keys. When she slammed the door on her way out, Claude´s heart shattered along the glass.

He had hoped she would come back, but when he heard the sound of tires scraping against the pavement, he slouched.

He took a deep breath, then.

What had he expected?

He huffed through his nose, thinking it was because of the albino´s files that he even got ratted out.

Ah, yet another thing he wanted to make the boy pay for.

He still remembered the boy´s files, so an hour of futile waiting later, he was sitting in their bed with papers scattered around him. There it was. The obvious proof of torture before he was taken in, the scars that now made sense. His real age.

Holding the files covered in dried bloody fingerprints after learning the truth made a pang of guilt appear.

Even if he was the reason, why…?

Claude´s jaw clenched hard as he gripped tighter on the papers.

“This is not enough!” he cried out, furiously wiping furtive tears. “You took them away! My only family! And yet-!”

Without thinking, he threw the papers away and at the sound of glass shattering, he turned back to see the shards of the tea the boy had left by their bed. Just like every night. His pills, along with Sarahi´s, scattered on the floor above the soaking pages of his files.

He was the reason, and yet, he couldn´t deny he thought of him as family now. Before he even knew what hell was, the boy had already gone through it twice. It wasn´t enough reason to forgive him, but…

Claude turned, and buried his head into his hands.

“Fuck…”

An hour after that, he was putting back the files into a drawer when suddenly, his phone rang.

“Rob?”

It took a long moment for him to speak again. When he did, his voice sounded ragged, but in such a calm tone, it made Claude´s hairs stand on end.

“Do you want him to pay for what he did?”

–

Sarahi wouldn't remember how she had gotten there, but she would remember the cold ice raining down on her as she walked up to their graves in the cemetery.

Her clothes were soaked when she stepped into the cemetery. The old keeper simply followed her with his eyes until she stood in front of two graves.

"Charlie" she called for her first born, a torpedo of a child before she turned her eyes to the grave next to it. "Fran…" the youngest, the baby boy who never wanted to leave her side. Always trying to climb up for her to hold him in her arms.

The baby boy that had been jumping in her lap on an ordinary car trip until she woke up to the news he had been buried months earlier. She crumbled right before the small crosses with her children´s names.

The children she couldn't even say goodbye to because nobody knew if she would wake up or not.

Her cries were so ragged, it seemed they wished to rip a hole into the sky. Maybe dip into that garden where that filthy god kept them as roses and take them with her. Maybe in such a way, her throat would rip and would let them join them up there.

In reality, she knew her wish was to simply have had the chance to see them. At least one more time.

Just to say goodbye.

After a while, her crying stopped, but the tears continued to flow down her cheeks.

“You know?” she sniffed “He thought I didn't see him, like most of the time when he was doing something he shouldn't” her lips were tightly on place. Not even the hint of a smile came up. “but I know he saw you,” she confessed before silent graves. “I heard him laugh sometimes. I heard him say he was scared of me finding out he could talk with you. At first I thought it was just a sick joke of his. But then…” But then the little things he should´ve never known about began to pop up. “...If you really…if you really talked with him…” she slowly lowered and bent into herself, tears flooding again as her voice trembled.

“Are you mad at me?” her lips pursed tight, before she took a deep breath. “...for letting him in and letting him take care of me when he…When I used him to fill the gap you left. Because I loved him like I loved you? Do you hate me? Because he became family, but...But he destroyed it! Twice for fuck sake!” she howled, snot beginning to run over her mouth before she furiously wiped it away.

“Charlie, Fran…Are you angry with me for not hating him as much as I could?”

Of course, there was no answer.

She gripped tightly on the mud below her knees.

“I wish I had never woken up” she declared “If this was what was waiting for me, wasn´t hell a better choice?” she said through gritted teeth and burying her face into her hand before another river of tears flowed down her eyes.

11 notes · View notes

whimsicaldragonette · 11 months

Text

Blog Tour and ARC Review: Love Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood

Order

Add to Goodreads:

Publication Date: June 13, 2023

Welcome to the Love Theoretically book tour with Berkley Publishing Group. (This blog tour post is also posted on my Wordpress book review blog Whimsical Dragonette.)

Synopsis:

The many lives of theoretical physicist Elsie Hannaway have finally caught up with her. By day, she’s an adjunct professor, toiling away at grading labs and teaching thermodynamics in the hopes of landing tenure. By other day, Elsie makes up for her non-existent paycheck by offering her services as a fake girlfriend, tapping into her expertly honed people pleasing skills to embody whichever version of herself the client needs. Honestly, it’s a pretty sweet gig—until her carefully constructed Elsie-verse comes crashing down. Because Jack Smith, the annoyingly attractive and broody older brother of her favorite client, turns out to be the cold-hearted experimental physicist who ruined her mentor’s career and undermined the reputation of theorists everywhere. And that same Jack who now sits on the hiring committee at MIT, right between Elsie and her dream job. Elsie is prepared for an all-out war of scholarly sabotage but…those long, penetrating looks? Not having to be anything other than her true self when she’s with him? Will falling into an experimentalist’s orbit finally tempt her to put her most guarded theories on love into practice?

Author Bio:

I’m originally from Italy, lived in Japan and Germany, and eventually moved to the US to pursue a Ph.D. in Neuroscience. I recently became a professor, which absolutely terrifies me. When I’m not at work you can find me binge-watching shows with my three feline overlords (and my slightly less feline husband), running, or eating candy.

I’m represented by the amazing Thao Le of the Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency.

My Rating: ★★★★★

*My Review and Favorite Quotes below the cut.

My Review:

The things I love best about Ali Hazelwood's books are the bitingly accurate portrayals of what it's like to be a woman in STEM academia. They are consistent and really highlight how much work needs to be done in regards to workplace equality. At the same time, the characters all display a realistic passion for the sciences and an inherent social awkwardness that, as a former Caltech student, really ring true and make the book feel like coming home. The romances are a little bit formulaic with the small woman, big hulking man trope, but they center ideas of being true to yourself and finding out what you really want. The leading men are always decent, kind, considerate and willing to (eventually) treat the women with care and understanding. It was painful to watch Elsie contort her personality to fit whatever she thought the person she was interacting with would want to see, and I was so happy to see her work to shake those habits and learn to stand up for what *she* wants. Jack was hugely instrumental in helping her on the road to finding herself and it was so refreshing. The fake dating plotline was hilarious, as was Jack's grandmother Millicent. I loved their relationship. Every time I read an Ali Hazelwood novel I am transported back to my days as an aspiring scientist and they make me seriously nostalgic for both the good and bad parts of being in STEM and I find myself eager for the next hit of that nostalgia. There seriously aren't enough romances that capture that feeling of the peculiar world that is STEM academia. *Thanks to NetGalley and Berkley for providing an early copy for review.

Favorite Quotes:

I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room so full of honesty before, but I’m positive that not a single lie has been uttered since I came into this house. It’s exhilarating, but in a stomach-dropping way. Like a roller coaster, or eating blue cheese.

---

“There is no guarantee that—“ “There is no guarantee that we won’t be suctioned off the surface of the earth by a demonically possessed vacuum cleaner.”

#ali hazelwood #love theoretically #the love hypothesis #STEM romance #berkley #netgalley #shilo reads #arc review #best books of 2023 #favorites #blog tour

1 note · View note

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Sweet Evening Breeze

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,042 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Naïve reader, Innocence kink, Oral sex, Unprotected sex, Previous bad sexual experience Summary: Being Jack Hotchner’s babysitter is a pretty great job. He’s an angel, most of the time, and his dad is so sweet and thoughtful, really takes care of you. Really takes care of you... *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Jack, buddy, time for breakfast,” you call down the hall for the third time. “We’ll play Legos later.” He shouts something nearly incomprehensible back, and you sigh as you stretch up, trying to reach the jam he likes on the top shelf of the cupboard.

Most of the time, the fact that Jack’s dad, Aaron, is very tall gives you butterflies in your stomach, but sometimes it’s just an inconvenience—like when he puts groceries up so high you don’t have a chance of reaching them.

“Dad did not say you could skip breakfast, and it’s not okay to lie. Little monster,” you mutter, and you can feel Aaron’s breath on the back of your neck when he chuckles softly. Whoops. You didn’t even know he was standing there. “I say that with full affection.”

He reaches around you to take down the jam, resting a hand on your lower back, probably for support. The bit of skin exposed by your stretching tingles at the touch.

“Of course, and so do I. Often.” You turn to face him, give him a grateful smile, and take the jar of jam.

“Thank you. Ugh, aren’t you miserable in that?” you ask, gesturing to his usual business suit. As Jack’s babysitter, you see Aaron in a suit almost every day—another thing that gives you butterflies—but you’re in the middle of a heatwave, and it’s 97 degrees in your little suburb of DC, which means it’s probably more like 115 downtown. That’s too hot to do anything, but especially in a suit and tie.

“It’s cool in here, but yes, I’ll probably be miserable the second I step foot outside.” You spread peanut butter on one English muffin and jam on another, laughing softly when a thought comes to you.

“Too bad you don’t have as much flexibility with your dress code as I do.”

At the start of this heatwave last week, you’d asked Aaron—after much nervous deliberation—if you could wear shorts and tank tops around the house instead of your usual jeans and a t-shirt or sweater. Your so-called uniform was self-imposed, because he’d told you from the start you could dress however you were comfortable, but you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. You weren’t trying to show off your body, or tempt or tease, or anything like that; you were just extremely hot, especially playing outside with Jack.

He had agreed, of course, that you should dress for the weather, and that shorts and tank tops were fine. He also reminded you that you could use the pool whenever you wanted, whether he was home or not, and just thinking about taking a dip later is enough to make you sigh in relief.

“I don’t think anyone would be interested in seeing me in an outfit like that,” he jokes—sometimes people can’t tell when he’s joking, because he’s so dry, but you’re familiar with his humor by now—and you laugh again. It earns you a smile.

“I think it’s more important that you’re comfortable than what people think when they see you in something, but it would probably be a little distracting.” You’ve seen him in his swim trunks on more than one occasion, most recently with no shirt to accompany them, and you can attest to being very distracted that day. You were supposed to be keeping an eye on Jack, and you did, would never put him in danger, but your eyes had also been following the drops of water that dripped from Aaron’s hair, down his throat, over his chest…

You had been hot for more than one reason that day, and your butterflies moved a little bit lower.

You shake your head of those thoughts quickly, glance around you to see that Jack is still not in the kitchen. You sigh, and put the peanut butter muffin on a paper napkin, hand it to Aaron.

“I’m going to go get him, but have a good day, okay? Try to stay cool; maybe you can take a swim tonight when it’s not so hot.”

“Good idea. Maybe you can join me if you’re still here.” That was sweet of him to offer. You smile at his kindness, brush a hand over your head. You wish your hair wasn’t all over the place, clinging to the sweat on your neck, your temples, but humidity is not your friend. He doesn't seem to mind.

“Thanks, maybe I will.” He gathers his things to head out, and you steel yourself and head to Jack’s room, scoop him up, giggling, into your arms, and plop him down for breakfast.

The two of you spend the day inside, because even swimming is a nightmare when the sun is beating down the way it is. You play with Legos, watch a movie, do some coloring pages, and play learning games on his iPad.

At around three, Aaron texts you, lets you know he won’t be home tonight because of a case, and you mentally plan out a small, easy dinner for you and Jack, then a little more playtime, then bed for Jack and a swim for you after.

You tuck him in, turn on his nightlight, and close the door behind you, then head to your room to change into your bathing suit.

You usually wear a purple one piece with shorts over it, something you can play with Jack in without worrying about anything falling out, so you’re surprised to find a pale blue, floral print bikini on your bed—a very tiny bikini—with a sticky note on the tag.

Went shopping for Jack and this made me think of you. I hope you like it. - Aaron

The first two things to pop into your head are, it was so sweet of him to think of you while out shopping, and you’re really glad he’s not here to see you in it, because it only half-covers all the things it’s supposed to cover. You double check the tag, but it’s the right size, so it must just be the intended design. Your cheeks flush hot, but it also makes you feel good, to be wearing so little. Kind of wrong, but good in a way you can’t explain.

You grab a couple of beach towels and step out into the slightly cooler night air, sigh at the feel of it on so much of your skin. You lay out your towels on the lounge chair by the edge of the pool—maybe you’ll lay there and read or play on your phone after your swim—and then step into the pool.

The water is still so warm, and the contrast between it and the breeze that blows across the surface has goosebumps breaking out across your skin. You dip your head under the water, let your hair fall loose and luxuriously wet after being twisted up all day long, and when you open your eyes Aaron is standing at the edge of the pool; you gasp, startled by his sudden appearance, and then laugh lightly.

“Oh my god, you scared me. I thought you weren’t going to be home tonight?” You swim closer to the edge so you can see him better, and he crouches down to your level. He’s taken off his jacket and tie, loosened the collar of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves; your heart races a little at his proximity, and all the dark hair you’re presented with.

“Change of plans, we weren’t needed after all. I texted you, but I see your phone is over there; I’m sorry I scared you.” He looks you over, something calculating in his gaze, and then smiles softly. “You’re wearing the swimsuit I bought you. Do you like it?”

You can feel yourself flush, because you hadn’t anticipated him being home to see you in it, but there’s nothing you can do about that now.

“Yes, I like it. It’s pretty. Thank you.” He must be able to sense your apprehension, because he tilts his head curiously.

“If you don’t like it, you can tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings. Don’t be shy.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I love it. That was so sweet of you.” You reach out a hand to rest on his arm, don’t want him to feel like you aren’t grateful. “It’s just a little… revealing.” He makes a soft noise of contemplation, reaches out to brush his fingers over your shoulder, over the strap.

“I was a little worried about that. Why don’t you get out of there and let me see? I can let you know if I think it’s too much.” You appreciate that he’d do that for you, and you respect his opinion, but you feel really exposed in it—and you’re not sure why that makes you feel so uncomfortable and so good at the same time.

Sure, he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but there’s no way he’d ever look at you as anything other than the sitter. You’re just too… innocent.

All the same, you nod your head and lift yourself up out of the pool; Aaron moves back, helps you up, and guides you over to the lounge chair. He sits, and you stand.

From there, he looks slowly over your body; he lingers over your breasts, your hips, then asks you to turn so he can see the back. You swallow, self-conscious under his gaze.

“Have you ever been this undressed in front of a man?” he asks, his voice low, and your breath hitches. “I can tell you’re nervous, that’s all.”

“Um. Once,” you say, flushing. He hums, brushes a hand down the length of your arm, and you feel a chill. You turn back to face him, and he pats the lounge chair, encouraging you to sit next to him. You sit, cross legged, facing him, nervous, but… also not; it’s hard to explain.

“Were you completely naked?” The way he asks it is so casual, but being naked isn’t casual for you; you can barely bring yourself to think about being naked, let alone talk about it. With your employer.

But something about the way he asks it makes you want to answer, at the same time, and there’s almost no one you trust more than Aaron. He’s always been so good to you.

“No. I left something on.” It had been a bra, gray with a pink bow in the middle. You were more comfortable keeping it on, and your ex-boyfriend hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared about much, it turns out.

“Was it during sex?” The way the word sounds coming out of his mouth makes you anxious, and excited; you can’t believe you’re having this conversation, and you also don’t want it to end.

“Yes, during... sex.” He nods, brings a hand to your cheek and brushes your wet hair back, tucks it behind your ear. Your heart is beating so fast you’re surprised the world around you is still so calm, quiet. Intimate.

“How many times have you had sex, sweet girl?” You close your eyes, embarrassed. You don’t want him to know how innocent you really are, not when he’s so much older and more experienced. He’ll laugh.

Then again, this is Aaron, and he’s only ever made you feel cared about and safe before. So maybe he won’t?

“Um. One time.”

“Just one time? That’s surprising to me; you’re so beautiful.” You shiver, maybe from being wet with the breeze on your skin, or maybe because he brushes his fingers over your lips, or maybe because he called you beautiful. No one’s ever called you beautiful. “Did it feel good?”

You’d wanted it to feel good; it did, for maybe a minute, and you think about that minute all the time, especially when you… when you slip your hand into your panties at night in your bed, thinking about Aaron’s broad shoulders, his thick forearms, his hands, his mouth...

“Kind of. And then no.” His hand freezes and he frowns. His voice is abruptly less low, more serious. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows you want to reach out and touch.

“Did he hurt you?” It had hurt, but you know he hadn’t meant for it to hurt. He wasn’t mean. He was just so eager to finish that once he started, he’d stopped caring if you were feeling good, so focused on his own body. You figured that’s just how guys are, and it made you never want to do it again—so you didn’t.

“Not on purpose,” is what you say. He covers your hand with his, big and warm and careful. You’ve always felt so comforted by his touch, and tonight is no exception.

“What happened?”

“It started quickly and ended quickly. I don’t think I was… prepared.” You’re blushing, hoping he understands your indirect statement so you don’t have to say it out loud. He rubs his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand, reaches up with the other to touch your flushed cheek.

“You weren’t wet?” You exhale, a little shaky, tell him no. “Are you wet now, sweetheart?” You’re almost ashamed to say, but he is asking...

“Very.” It’s just a whisper, but it makes him smile a little, touch your mouth again. You could get used to that.

“Good girl. Can I feel?” That gives you pause, for a moment, but thinking of him touching you where you’ve imagined for months—it’s too good of a prospect to pass up, no matter how nervous you are. You nod, and he moves his hand inside your swimsuit bottoms, brushes over your core, slips between your lips easily. He never takes his eyes off of yours. “It would feel really good to have sex now. Do you want to try again? You’re always taking such good care of us; I want to take care of you.”

You bite your lip, and he leans in slowly, presses his mouth to yours for a gentle kiss. You make a soft noise of pleasure, tilt your hips so you’re sliding over his hand, and he groans—it’s honestly one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. It means he wants you… never in a million years would you have guessed that.

“I want to try,” you breathe, and you feel bold, so you kiss him this time. He pulls you close, deepens the kiss, adds tongue, and you moan at the feel, clinging to his shirt. “Aaron.”

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he says, voice low, and he moves his fingers up to the part of you that makes you shake with desperate need, rubs tight circles so you’re panting, chest heaving; you nod quickly and he picks you up, hand still moving inside your swimsuit, carries you to the sliding glass door and pushes it open with his elbow.

You assume you’ll head straight for the bedroom, but he stops in the kitchen, sets you on the counter and kisses you again, a little harder than you’ve experienced before; you love it, try your best to match the way his mouth moves, and his fingers press hard against your aching bud, making you gasp with pleasure.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?” he asks, a little breathless himself, and you smooth your fingers through his hair.

“Um. I think so. From touching myself like this.” He moves his fingers faster, and you press your palm against the counter for support, move your hips against his hand. It feels so good, so much better than when you do it that you could cry.

“Has someone else ever given you an orgasm?” You use the fingers in his hair to bring him to you for a kiss, something you both moan softly into.

“No. I want-I want you to be the first,” you murmur, and he closes his eyes, exhales through his nose, and lifts you up again, this time carrying you to his bedroom and setting you on your feet by the bed. He looks down at you with eyes so dark and gorgeous, then asks if he can remove what little clothing you have on. You tell him yes, and he pushes down the bottoms, which you step carefully out of.

When his hands move to the top, you hesitate, always self-conscious about this; he leans in and presses delicious kisses to your neck, your shoulders, slides the straps down, and looks up at you with caring, gentle eyes. You nod, and he pulls your top off, too, leaving you completely naked in front of someone for the first time in your life.

It’s such a rush, you wish he hadn’t waited so long to initiate this.

“You are so incredibly beautiful,” he says, and with the way he‘s looking at you, you actually believe it. He takes your face in his hands, kisses your lips, then moves down your throat again, your chest—he pays your nipples a bit of attention, flicking his tongue, scraping his teeth, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. “So perfect.”

He puts his hands all over your body, sweeping over your arms, your waist, and he presses kisses to your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You want his mouth where his fingers were, but you don’t ask; it’s almost like he knows anyway, when he looks up at you from his knees.

“Has anyone ever tasted you?” You shake your head, and he puts his hands on your butt, squeezes softly, and guides you to lay back on the bed. “I want you to tell me how it feels, okay?”

Normally, you’re quiet out of necessity, because when you aren’t here you have an apartment you share with a roommate—even though most of the time, you sleep here whether you’re strictly required to or not. You’re quiet here too, because you’ve never wanted Aaron to know how he makes you feel, although now you’re really wishing you’d have found out sooner that he feels the same way. Imagine all the cool, quiet nights you could have spent on this bed, in his arms…

Shaking yourself out of the fantasy—because reality is literally happening, and it’s so much better—you nod, and he carefully spreads your thighs, leans in to tease his tongue along your slit, light and wet.

“Oh. Aaron.” He looks up, reaches a hand forward to twine your fingers together, and you squeeze them, moaning when he dips again, this time pressing his tongue inside you where you’re wettest. “Oh my-oh my god.” He leans in to press damp kisses to your lower belly.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I want you to come on my tongue—come on my tongue, don’t be shy.” Again, he slides it inside, brings his free hand up to rub you, and it’s not long before you do as he asks, shaking and tightening your grip on his hand. You’re almost embarrassed by how loud you are, but he is nothing but sweet when he comes up, whispers in your ear how well you did for him, how pleased he is to be the first to make you moan like that, to taste you.

He kisses your mouth so you can taste yourself, and groans when you reach for his head, hold him closer.

“Thank you,” you murmur, shaky, when the kiss breaks, and he rubs over your lips with his thumb like he did before, smiles softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl. I told you I wanted to take care of you; I’m just so glad you let me.” You move your hands to the front of his shirt and rest them there, hoping he’ll take the hint, but he just gets a glimmer in his eye that makes the butterflies flutter low despite your very recent release. “Don’t be shy. Tell me what you want.” You flush, don’t know how to ask a man—especially a man like Aaron—to get naked for you. “Oh, there’s that blush. My sweet, innocent girl. You haven’t even been properly fucked, of course you don’t know how to ask for what you want. But I’ll teach you.”

He sits up, hovering over your body, gets his fingers on the buttons of his shirt and starts to slip them free. He has to unzip his pants to untuck it, and the sight and sound of that makes you whimper—you immediately tense, feel shame at being so vocal, but he just leans in to kiss you, soft and slow.

“You can’t wait for me to be naked too, can you? You want to see what a man looks like, feel what a man feels like. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” It comes out roughly, almost too low for even you to hear; you clear your throat and try again. “Yes, Aaron.” It earns you a slightly harder kiss, and he climbs off the bed to undress the rest of the way; your eyes are drawn to his erection as soon as it’s exposed, and he looks at you with nothing less than lust in his eyes. It makes you shiver and want to open your legs for him again.

“You’re staring. Have you touched a cock before—stroked it with your hand?”

“No. Can I?” you ask, sitting up against the pillows, and he nods, moves next to you, and takes your hand. You’re intimidated by the size of him, all the more so when he wraps your fingers around it, covers them with his, and strokes.

“Feels so good, baby,” he rumbles, slinging his free hand around your hip and holding you close to his body. He is so… just good looking, so different from your ex-boyfriend, from guys your age, and you look up at his face while you touch him, hoping to bring him even half as much pleasure as he brought you. Your eyes flick back down, though, after a short time, transfixed by the wet head disappearing into your fist. “Hmm. Good girl. Do you want to try putting your mouth on it?”

God, do you want to try that. You want to know what it tastes like, feels like on your tongue; you nod, scoot back a little so you can bend over him, and he puts his hands on your head, slowly guides your open mouth to hover over him.

“Careful with your teeth, and keep me nice and wet, okay? We'll go slowly.” He pushes your hair back from your face so he can see you better, which is sweet, and you nod, close your lips around him, let him show you how he wants you to do it.

He feels so big in your mouth, and you remember to be careful, to be wet, like he said. He’s not making you take him deeply, just a couple of inches, and when you’re not so nervous it feels really good, the weight of him against your tongue, his gentle hands teaching you what to do. It makes you feel useful, learning how he likes to be pleasured, and you enjoy finding ways to make yourself useful to Aaron.

“Perfect, perfect. Just like that—you’re doing great, sweetheart.” You hum around him, pleased that it feels good for him, and you’re stricken with the urge to feel him spilling into your mouth, but he groans and offers something even more intriguing. “Would you like to come sit in my lap? I want to press into your warm, tight, sweet pussy; I promise it will feel good, not like last time.” You make another noise, something eager, and he pulls you off and gets his hands on your waist, brings you up to rest against his thighs.

“Will it hurt?” you ask, just in case. You hadn’t thought to ask that last time. “You’re big; what if it doesn’t fit?” You look up at him, and warm, tender eyes peer into yours.

“It won’t hurt, and it will fit, I promise. We’ll make it fit. Lean up.” You stretch up a little, press your hands to his shoulders, and he rubs his hands soothingly over your body, kisses your chest, and then dips a finger inside you; you grip him tightly, moan, hold still while he moves it in and out, then adds another. “How does that feel? Don’t be shy.”

“Feels-feels good,” you breathe, and he pumps them together which feels so incredible, so new. He brings his free hand to your butt and squeezes softly.

“Good girl. I’m adding another. You’re so wet, it shouldn’t be a problem, but tell me if it’s uncomfortable.” The third finger makes you feel like you’re full up, a little snug, but you know you’ll need to get used to it if you want him inside; you breathe, will yourself to only feel the good, remind yourself that this isn’t like last time. Aaron is being so good to you; he won’t stop being good to you.

“Aaron.” It’s a gasp, a plea, a question, and he answers it by pulling his fingers out, putting his hands on your hips, and lining his cock up at your entrance, lowering you slowly onto it. You pant, moan as it slides in; it feels tight to you, and you’re so incredibly full, but his hands feel like safety and you’re not worried. He’s always taken care of you; he wouldn’t hurt you.

“You’re perfect, you’re doing so good. You feel so good.” He squeezes you, stretches up to brush his lips over yours. “We’re going to make you come again; I’ll give you the best night of your life, I promise.”

“Of course you will. This is already the best night of my life,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he kisses you harder; you can feel his hands tighten, and it doesn’t hurt, only makes you want more, rougher. You feel filthy for wanting that, but it’s Aaron, and you want any and everything he wants to give; you also want him to take anything he wants to take.

He moves your body up and down, a show of strength that makes you moan, just a string of desperate sounds you’re a little embarrassed of; he appreciates the noises you make, though, if the way he grips you is any indication, his eyes determined as he makes you bounce on his cock.

“Oh, yes baby, just like that. How does it feel, sweet girl?”

“Mmh, good, so good, so good,” you sigh, your butt making contact with his firm thighs each time he brings you down on him. “Feels so good to be… to have it inside me.”

Aaron hums, frowns just slightly.

“Tell me what it is, baby. Your innocent little mouth can be dirty for me, this once. What feels good? What’s inside you?” His voice is a little tense, like maybe he wants to finish, but he doesn't change a thing, doesn’t hurt you so he can get there faster. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, curl fingers into his hair.

“Your… It’s your cock, Aaron. Your cock feels so good inside me.” You’ve thought the word, never said it aloud, but it makes him groan deeply, so you vow to say it again at some point just to savor that reaction.

“Yes it does, yes it does. Feels so good inside your perfect pussy, my perfect, sweet girl.” His hands move you faster, and you want to help now that you know this is how he likes it; when the two of you work together, it’s quicker thrusts, harder thrusts, your breasts bouncing along with the rest of your body and making you feel filthy, indecent. Amazing.

You lean in for a kiss, and Aaron turns it into something deep and decadent, delicious; you pass moans back and forth, holding tightly to him, the both of you breaking a sweat even in the cool air. You’re so close, so close to the ultimate pleasure you felt with his head between your legs, and you can hear your moans change, eager, needy things.

“Aaron please. Please.” You take his face in your hands, look into his eyes, bounce on him and kiss him and plead for release against his lips, and he holds you so tightly and climaxes, spilling inside you and pumping up into you, breathless.

“Oh, good girl, you did that. You made me come, baby. Not so innocent anymore, are you?” You shake your head—you don’t feel innocent anymore, you feel good, you want more, want to chase the feelings you’ve felt tonight, including the one still building inside you. “Now let’s get you off. I want to feel it.” He digs his fingers into your hips, so hard you think it might bruise, but in your heightened state of arousal it just feels good; you keep moving until your orgasm takes control of you, makes you grip his hair hard in your fingers and slam yourself down on him.

“Yes, yes, mmm.” He brings a hand to your face, softly catches your jaw, and guides you to make eye contact while you ride him through it until you are both spent, sinking against the bed. He sweeps his hands over your body, kisses you softly, and you melt at his touch. “That was so incredible. Thank you.”

“I told you, you don’t have to thank me. I wanted to take care of you; been wanting that for some time,” he admits easily, touching your cheek. “I’m just glad I could give you a good experience after the bad one.”

“Good doesn’t even begin to cover it.” Your voice is light, low, because saying things like this, talking about sex, is still so new to you. “I love being here for you, helping you with Jack, and anything else you need. Do you think you’ll want or need me like this again?”

“Oh, I don’t see how I could do without, if it’s something you want. Although I may have to return that swimsuit. It is pretty indecent,” he says with a somewhat guilty smile.

You figured as much, and for the first time tonight you feel very confident when you say, “No, I think I’d like to keep it.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

540 notes · View notes

cursestothemoon · 3 years

Text

A Cruel Favor

Regulus Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Request: Could I get and angsty and sad blurb with Regulus? Nothing specific in mind, Regulus’ entire life is pretty tragic already- just throwing some strained and kind of heartbreaking romance into that mix sorry i like pain this is how i cope

Summary: Your relationship with the youngest Black brother in the form of memories seen in a pensieve by Sirius Black.

Warnings: Death, sadness, crying, the dark mark, ghosts

Word Count: 3265

Author's Note: babe you asked for a blurb and i just did not listen i am so sorry, if you'd still like a blurb let me know and i'll whip up a little short piece but regardless i hope you enjoy this 😌

“You didn’t know him! You didn’t want to know him!” Your voice bellowed, trembling with the burning anger you held in your heart for the eldest Black brother.

It was true, back when the war was just ‘politics’ and the ‘Dark Lord’ a name whispered behind closed doors, Sirius Black had already made up his mind about his family- Regulus included.

“He was my brother.” Sirius spoke the statement as if just the mere fact of relation was supposed to trump that he hadn't even spoken to his brother in the months prior to his death.

You let out a bitter laugh, “Don’t lie for the sake of saving face, you never saw him as a brother; not then and certainly not now.”

Sirius seemed taken aback by your accusation, his words getting lost on his tongue for a moment before he quickly regained his fiery passion for argument.

“He betrayed me.”

“You were the one who betrayed him!” Your accusatory finger pointed at Sirius.

The eldest Black brother’s features went stoney, “The moment he decided to get that mark, was the moment he lost his name as my brother.”

Everything in the mangey old house seemed to still, a silence falling so powerful you could hear a pin drop. Your slow footsteps were exaggerated in the quiet, each creak ringing in both yours and Sirius’ ears. With a tired hand, you pushed a small pouch onto the surface of the dining room table, the vials inside clinking together softly.

“They’re numbered.” You breathed out. “There is so much you don’t know, Sirius.”

You walked through the door and onto the street hastily, not wasting any time to apparate back home.

Sirius sat down in the nearest chair with a huff, his knees spread as his shoulders slid down the back of the chair. He hadn’t remembered just how far up his brother’s ass you were.

Roughly, he rubbed his face with his palms before lazily reaching for the dark velvet pouch on the table. The emerald green reminded him not only of his brother, but of his entire family, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius couldn’t help the groan that left his mouth at the memories of his family that seemed to plague his mind.

Fittingly, Sirius opened the pouch to reveal just that. The silvery, viscous tendrils that floated through each vial were immediately recognized by the pureblood. You had given him your memories...and a letter.

You deserve to know him.

Y/N L/N

Sirius’ curiosity regarding what secrets of his brother’s seemed to be swimming in the vials bubbled over, he was sure 12 Grimmauld Place was harbouring a pensieve somewhere within its walls, he’d just have to get up and find it.

17 October 1974

Barty Crouch Jr. was an insolent child, the type to collect bones and listen to them rattle. He had a nervous tick, his tongue slithering past his lips every so often in a manner that was so serpentine it made your skin prick.

“Come on then, L/N, be a good little girl and do as I say.”

You threw down your quill in frustration, “Bugger off, Crouch. I’ve said no.”

“Don't be like that,” Barty smirked, coming closer to where you were sitting. “It’s only some homework. You were going to do yours anyway, why not get some extra practice in by doing mine too?”

“I’d rather have unforgivables practiced on me than do anything you ask.”

His sickly sweet smile wasn’t one you were expecting, his voice low and threatening, “That can be arranged.”

Your blood ran cold as you watched his nimble fingers move toward his wand pocket in his robes. Truthfully, you should’ve known better. Being in the same house as Barty allowed you the luxury of hearing all the gossip surrounding him and his hobbies, dark magic and curses being at the top of that list.

“Barty.”

The cold baritone made the sandy-haired menace stop in his tracks, his face contorting into an expression of mild annoyance and frustration.

“There’s no need for you to be acting like a child. Quite humiliating asking someone else to do your work, isn’t it, Crouch? Are you too thick to get it done yourself?”

Barty turned to look at his friend, words jumbling as he tried to figure out how to get himself out of the hole he had dug.

“Reg-” The stone-like stare had Barty cowering and mouth snapping shut, the boy seemingly trying to fold in on himself.

With a simple nod of his head, Regulus directed the him to make himself useful elsewhere, but you were far too taken by the handsome boy in front of you to notice the stomping footsteps of Barty’s as he left. Of course you had known of Regulus Black, seen him from afar and even once had Transfiguration with him, but seeing him up close was an experience in and of itself. His skin was ghostly pale, hair dark and wavy as it fell just below his ears, and his cheekbones were high accentuating the slant of his nose. Regulus Black was beautiful, everything about him seemed to be placed just right and sculpted with the utmost care and attention.

He turned to you, your eyes meeting before he gave you an appraising look.

“Regulus.” His hand struck out, a rather rugged introduction.

Slowly, you took his hand in yours and proceeded to shake it. You couldn’t seem to rid yourself of the feeling that your hand was far too dirty, far too boring to be touching his, to even be near his.

“Y/n L/n, thank you- for that.” You were proud of yourself for not allowing your voice to shake.

“I’m sorry he was a bother.”

Regulus seemed to lack the ability of holding a conversation, he nodded- you assumed a goodbye- and got ready to make his way to the dorms.

“Wait,” Your voice came out before you could stop it. “You could stay, I’m almost done anyway. We could...talk.”

The suggestion had the boy's ears turning pink, his words coming out stuttered and jumbled, a stark contrast from the boy who had told off Barty so eloquently.

“If you- alright.”

You thought for a moment before speaking again, “You’re not very good at talking to people are you?”

“Excuse my blatant honesty, but you make me quite nervous.”

It was your turn to have your ears turn a soft hue of red, “I could say the same about you.”

5 April 1975

“Haven’t you got your own side of the blanket? Must you be so close to me?” You giggled, trying to roll away from Regulus while still avoiding the grass.

Regulus smiled, his eyes closing and nose scrunching in thought before he spoke, “I prefer to be close to you; making sure you won’t run out on me.”

Both of you began giggling, his head falling to nudge your shoulder. Ultimately, Regulus shuffled away from your side, allowing just about a foot of space in between your bodies. The wind rustled your hair as you turned your neck to look at the youngest Black as he sat up, his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, arms propping himself up as his palms pressed flat against the floor.

It was no secret that Regulus was beautiful. His dark hair- now gently flowing in the cool breeze- stood out against his pale skin, freckles were dusted delicately over his aristocratic nose and sharp cheekbones. You could tell he’d never worked a day in his life with how handsome and soft his hands were. His fingers were long and slender, never dry or rough, and his nails perfectly trimmed and always clean.

Regulus Black was absolutely perfect and you were regretting ever complaining about his proximity.

You were quick to right your wrong, bashfully you raised yourself onto all fours and crawled over to your boyfriend. Regulus tried to hold in his smirk, avoiding turning to look at you directly but you could tell his resolve was breaking.

“Regulus…” You spoke his name with an innocent lilt, sitting back on your shins once you were close enough to have your knees touching his thigh.

He hummed, not giving you the satisfaction of having his full attention.

A huff of frustration fell past your lips at his stubbornness as you threw your leg over his thighs, straddling his legs just above his knees. His composure was thinning, a wide smile threatening to spread across his thin lips.

“You’re far too close,” he teased, his hand coming up as if trying to stop you from getting any closer. “I believe you are on my side of the blanket, L/n.”

“Don’t be so fickle, Black.”

Regulus’ pale blue eyes found yours, his delicate hand coming up to run across the delicate collar of your dress.

“It’s in my nature isn’t it?” His eyes held a certain sadness that you could not place, one you wouldn’t see again until a few years later.

Your lips parted to respond to him, only to be interrupted by a Hogwarts ghost floating nearby. It was a ghost neither you nor Regulus were familiar with and as she passed she mumbled something- rather spitefully- about young love. The event had your train of thought derailed, a quiet giggle erupting from your throat as the transparent, deceased woman floated on.

Regulus seemed to find the woman just as amusing as you did, his eyes crinkling with laughter as you two now looked at each other in fits of hysterics.

“Oh her poor soul!” You exclaimed, eyes looking off in the direction she had gone. “If you were a ghost, Reg, where would you haunt with your undead presence.”

His expression contorted into one of reminiscence, “Uncle Alphard’s cherry orchard just a few kilometers from Monts de Venasque. When we were little, Sirius and I would play in the trees. I could sit in those cherry trees for hours, everything just seemed to disappear. Alphard’s been burned off the tapestry since, but he’s left the property in my possession along with the small house on the land. I think if I were to choose one place to spend eternity, it would be there.”

You smiled softly at his answer.

“And you?” He asked, bringing you out of your lovesick haze.

“Me?” You chuckled. “I’d suppose my eternity would be well spent as long as I was somewhere with you.”

28 June 1976

It seemed the entirety of 12 Grimmauld Place shook with how hard Sirius had slammed the front door.

He was gone.

Completely and entirely gone.

And Regulus was completely and entirely alone now.

Regulus swiftly made his way up the stairs and to his room, just barely avoiding a collision with the poor house elf.

“Y/n’s room.” The words were spoken clearly and concisely as the floo powder fell from his shaky hands.

The time of night- 2:27 am- was of little importance to Regulus, he needed to see you.

You woke up with a jolt, the sound of someone stumbling into your room and panicked mumbling doing nothing to ease your nerves though the mop of dark curls had your heart calming down.

“Reg?”

He turned to look at you with heartbroken eyes, watery and bloodshot.

“He’s gone.” He choked out.

You kicked the blankets off yourself and stood up from your bed, bare feet hitting the cold floor.

Keeping a calm tone you slowly got closer to him, “Who’s gone, love?”

His pain was so evident, rolling off him in waves, “Sirius- he’s not coming back.”

“Oh,” You sighed, treading lightly. “I’m sur-”

“No!” He cried, “Burned off the tapestry, probably with the Potters- he’s gone an-and he left me with them.”

Regulus’ anguish, tear stained cheeks, had your own eyes welling with unshed tears. It was clear words would do nothing to calm him, instead you opted for pushing yourself into him and taking his crying form into your arms. His body seemed to give out as you held him, his tears soaking your shirt as he wailed into your neck.

Neither of you could tell how long you stood in the middle of your room seemingly holding him together, but his cries subsided into gentle whimpers and the occasional sniffle as his nose nudged the side of your neck.

His voice came out rough and strained, just barely above a whisper, “Please don’t- don’t leave me like Si- like he did.”

You could feel your heart shatter, “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

“I don’t know how I would’ve survived in this mess if I had never known you.”

Your breath came out ragged as you spoke the truest words you've ever dared to speak, “My heart beats for you, Regulus.”

30 December 1979

His forearm itched.

It seemed to always have an odd itch ever since he was sixteen.

Regulus watched your form get closer, bundled in a thick overcoat and a dark blue scarf- Christmas present from himself- wrapped neatly around your neck. You were the picture of beauty, like a living doll with your soft smile and adoring eyes.

“My love.” You greeted him, leaning in to place a soft kiss against his cold cheek.

His eyes seemed distant, your only greeting a tight lipped smile.

Your eyebrows knit together, “Everything alright?”

Regulus nodded, his eyes swimming with a sadness so familiar, “Just taking you in.”

He pulled off his leather gloves, stuffing them deep in his coat pocket before reaching his hand out to hold your jaw, his thumb running across your skin. The action was comforting and you couldn’t help but close your eyes to savour the feeling of his thumb caressing your cheekbone.

You let out a small gasp when you felt him take your lips in a slow kiss. It was passionate, loving, yet there was a certain finality to it that had a shiver run up your spine in the most unpleasant way.

“I have the cruelest favor to ask of you, and I can only hope you’ll forgive me once I do.”

Your stomach dropped, “What do you mean, Regulus? What- what favor?”

“Please, try to understand-”

“What favor?”

“I couldn’t-”

“Tell me what the favor is, Regulus.”

Your voice had an edge to it that made him compose himself almost instantly.

He took a breath before speaking, his eyes looking off somewhere behind you as he spoke, “He’s getting stronger.”

You didn’t need to ask who this ‘he’ was, the tone made it very clear.

“He has these… horcruxes. Incredibly dark magic, I don't know how many but I know of one. It’s hidden and I’ve found out the location, I can destroy it I know I can but-”

His tone was hushed and your heart rate had started to pick up speed.

“But you don’t know if you’ll live to tell the tale?” You asked with a humorless laugh.

The look in Regulus’ eyes had told you, you were right.

“I can’t let him continue. If this could stop him, weaken him even, it’s worth whatever the consequence to myself may be.” He argued.

You pushed yourself further from him, “I can’t- I won’t lose you. No, there’s no way.”

His expression shifted into one of sorrow and pleading, “I have to.”

And you knew there was no changing his mind.

You bit the side of your lip anxiously, looking at the ground before asking, “And this favor?”

The heartbreak was almost palpable, his voice going raw.

“I cannot be fully prepared to do anything that is necessary to destroy this horcrux if-”

He cut himself off with an intake of breath.

“If I know you’ll be waiting for my return, if I know what I have to leave behind I may be tempted to not go through with my plan.”

You couldn’t help but feel and look horrified, “What are you asking of me, Regulus?”

He seemed to flinch at the tone of your voice, a tone you’d never used before and one he couldn’t name.

“I need you to obliviate yourself from my memory.”

It felt as though your chest had collapsed in on itself, “I-I couldn-”

“You have to!” Regulus cried, his arms gripping the sides of your face as you couldn’t help but let a choked sob escape from your lips. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to go through with it, I can't know that there’s a possibility of leaving you.”

“Please, Regulus, you can’t ask this of me.” You choked out, searching his eyes for some sort of humor, something that told you it was all a cruel joke.

He pressed his lips against your forehead, both of your eyes closing as you two took in short, ragged breaths.

Everything seemed darker. The flowers in the Black garden were cold and dead, the snow wasn’t snow at all, instead dangerous sheets of ice. It was then you realized the war, the death eaters, everything had become so real.

“There is a letter on your bed at home, I’ve settled everything for you. I’m going to stand against the pillar, my back to you, and you are going to do it from behind the hedges so we won’t see each other after. You need to leave once it’s done alright?”

You nodded solemnly, knowing there was no use in fighting it. The cause was bigger than you, bigger than Regulus. Everyone made sacrifices, this just had to be yours.

“My heart beats for you, Y/n, whether I know it or not.”

“And mine for you, Regulus.” You smiled sadly, pulling his wrist up to your face and pulling back his sleeve to reveal his dark mark, pressing a kiss to the skin you spoke, “You aren’t them, you never were and you never will be.”

Regulus smiled but said nothing as he lowered his arms and put his gloves back on. With slow steps he walked to the pillar and looked back at you one last time.

“I’m just taking you in.” He whispered, before slowly turning.

You took your wand from your coat as you took even slower steps to stand just far enough for him not to notice you after it had been done. Regulus felt his resolve crumble with each crunch of your boots against the frozen ground, his eyes screwed shut- tears rolling down his face freely- as he prepared for what was coming.

With a shaky hand you raised your wand.

“Obliviate.”

Present

Sirius seemed to be thrown back from the pensieve, as if the memory had rejected him from viewing any longer, still sensitive. He felt an odd tickling sensation run down his cheek, his hand raising to brush away a stray tear as he fell into a nearby chair.

He never knew…

***

You pushed open the backdoor of your small home, the warm scent of cherry trees welcoming you. The sun was just barely starting to set as you looked off into the horizon of the vast field of trees, if you looked long enough you could make out the handsome silhouette of a boy you once knew sitting up in a cherry tree.

Only a few short months later, the lone figure would be joined by another… a brother.

tags:

@amourtentiaa

@vsawyer1989

@lifeofkaze

@siriusement

@erinruby003

@maybesandohnos

@onlyfreds

@tayyx

#regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black blurb #regulus black imagine #regulus black x fem!reader #marauders era

419 notes · View notes

unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years

Note

I have this vision wherein cassian doesn't let anyone touch his hair like no one has ever touched his hair and he's very serious about it so one day the ic is hanging out and then cassian leans into nesta and nesta absent-mindedly starts playing with his hair and mor or rhys is like "is nesta playing with yor hair, you never let anyone touch your hair" and nesta gets all self conscious and stops but cassian just grabs her hand back and brings it to his hair and goes "nesta isn't just anyone" I need a drabble like this in canon-verse

This one really just flew out of me. I’m weak for soft Nessian!!!

It was one of those beautiful nights where they could almost forget what they had been through.

A night where war torn hearts stitched themselves back together and beat soft, hopeful rhythms in centuries or decades old chests.

A night where hands that had once been soaked in blood tangled fingers with the warm, fresh, surface of a lovers matching palm.

A night where wine bottles stacked up in the space many floors below, where the House took them when they were empty.

A night where old grudges were nothing but soon to be melted snowflakes in the February wind and even the lonely souls in the room felt warmed by the roaring fire.

It was a night where Nesta didn’t even notice the fire beyond the way its glowing light bounced off of the gleaming black in Cassian’s hair.

A night where everything was calm and soft at the edges rather than hard and focused and sharp. Relaxed, Nesta felt entirely relaxed.

Something she never would have thought possible in the presence of so many people.

Rhys and Feyre were taking full advantage of Nuala watching Nyx and were already wrapped up in each other on one end of Nesta’s new light grey sofa.

Amren had her legs thrown over Varian’s lap on the other side.

Mor was lounging on the chaise by the fire like a goddess of old.

Elain had gone to bed early, claiming she had to be awake early the next morning, so even Azriel was completely at ease. Not lingering in the doorway. He was spread out across a massive white armchair, the twin to the one Nesta and Cassian occupied, with his legs stretched out in front of him and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Yes, this was a good night.

Nesta shifted a little on the arm of the chair she had just perched herself on top of and Cassian rolled his eyes, hooking one arm around her waist and pulling her into his lap.

“Brute,” Nesta accused with none of her usual bite.

“Don’t worry, with Rhys and Feyre here we will never be the most sickening couple in the room.”

“Debatable,” Mor sing-songed.

Nesta laughed, such a soft, easy sound that she never thought she’d hear from her own lips. Turning herself a little in Cassian’s lap, Nesta dangled her legs over one arm of the chair and leaned her head against his broad chest.

Home.

This place. This person. His chest. His scent. His arms around her waist. It was home.

“Do you need anything?” Cassian was a little drunk, the way they were all a little drunk. Not boisterous, tear things apart, dance and shout, drunk. Something hazier.

Mulled wine and spiked cider drunk. Slow and sleepy and comfortable.

“I have everything I need.” She didn’t mean it to be so cheesy, it was just the truth.

“Hmmm,” Cassian hummed, nudging his head a little into hers with a soft smile. Nesta knew what that meant.

She raised her hands from around his neck and slipped careful fingers between strands of his silky hair, separating a little section of it off into three pieces.

Cassian let out a long, contented, breath.

Nesta felt the eyes on them before she saw them.

Azriel just chuckled and raised his glass. Rhysand looked like he did when Nesta explained the 26 universes theory to him. Shocked, in awe, brimming with question.

“What?” Nesta’s voice sharpened just a little.

“Nothing,” Rhys cleared his throat, trying to be polite.

“No one touches Cassian’s hair.” Mor said, head inclined. “Like seriously. He doesn’t let anyone near it. Not in the 5 centuries I’ve known him at least. Azriel tried to ruffle it once and Cassian pushed him back so hard he cracked a rib.”

“Oh,” Nesta swallowed, hands stilling halfway through the braid. Cassian brought his own hand up to cover hers.

“Don’t stop, please.” Nesta smiled a little.

“And she’s… braiding it.” Mor shook her head.

“Mor,” Rhys warned.

“Is this not weird to anyone else? 500 years of no touching the hair and now he’s about to have a crown braid.”

Nesta laughed, twisting the braided strand up and over so it made a headband through the rest of his hair. “Oh I’m so doing a crown braid next. We can match.”

“Whatever you want, love.”

“What the-“

“Shut up, Mor.” Cassian lulled his head back into Nesta’s touch. “The silence was so nice. And just for the record,” he pointed a finger. “It still stands that I don’t let anyone touch my hair so don’t go getting ideas.”

“Um…” Mor rose an eyebrow at his hypocrisy.

“Nesta isn’t anyone. She’s my mate.”

#nessian #drabbles open #nesta archeron #acosf #feysand #vamren #azriel #morrigan #Mor #cassian #nesta and cassian #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #acotar

389 notes · View notes

dissociativesworld · 3 years

Text

Patience

Pairing: Wrecker x reader

Tags: little bit of angst, dom!Wrecker, cock warming, sex in the pilot seat (sorry tech), overstimulation, implied squirting, probably some other stuff I'm not thinking of

A/N: I had no idea how to end this so it's a little hasty at the end hope ya'll don't mind. Also no idea if I'm tagging people correctly

Taglist: @4rosydreams @kesshou-otome @cobiwanbanobi

NSFW below the cut

A shower had never felt so good. You didn’t even care that it was cold, after months on that godforsaken planet you were finally home. As one of the few females on base, you got your own room but you also knew that more than likely Wrecker would probably be passed out on your bed once you opened the ‘fresher door.

He hadn’t followed you to your room after the mission like he normally did. Hopefully, it was just because he wanted a shower just as badly as you did. But you also couldn’t help but think it probably had to do with your behavior on the mission which you still needed to genuinely apologize for. You’d lost your temper when he made a risky decision, not following the plan.

“Why can’t you be patient for once?!” You’d shouted at him.

In the few years, you’d known the Batch, you’d never raised your voice to any of them. And definitely not Wrecker even in the past year you’d been dating. It was out of character for you and it startled the entire team. Even Crosshair was shocked. And the look your boyfriend gave you broke your heart. But you didn’t want to admit you were in the wrong in front of them. You just wanted them to be safe and if they thought they’d piss you off by doing stupid shit, then you’d be the bad guy.

You turned the water off before wrapping yourself in a towel, the standard-issue military towel almost too small to cover you properly. Walking through your room to grab your blacks you were disappointed to see that Wrecker wasn’t there. Well, you needed sleep anyway. As you crawled into bed, it felt wrong. Too empty without being snuggled up to the large trooper. Maybe things would be back to normal in the morning.

~~~

The next morning you wandered down the halls of Kamino looking for your squad. Peeking into their barracks you were disappointed to see all of them, minus Wrecker.

“If you’re looking for Wrecker he slept in the Marauder last night.” Crosshair all but growled at you.

You made a face, “what? Why?”

“You really have to ask?” He scowled at you, normally he was pretty neutral toward you but he obviously didn’t appreciate that you hurt his brother’s feeling.

Sighing you doubled back to the hangar. You could see him sitting in the cockpit, a pout on his lips as he stared into space. You walked quietly onto the ship, quiet enough that he didn’t look up as you walked up behind him.

“Is it okay if I join you?” You asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Wrecker glanced up, suddenly having his trademark smile on his face. “Mesh’la, I was just thinking about you.”

He pulled you down into his lap, his half-hard erection emphasizing his words.

“I came to apologize.” You smiled up at him.

He chuckled darkly, “I have a way you can make it up to me.”

You quirked an eyebrow, wondering where he was going with this. His sudden change in attitude with your appearance had you wondering what he was thinking. Granted his smile was a welcome change.

“What did you have in mind handsome?” You asked.

Wrecker pulled you back against him, his cock hard against your ass. He kissed your neck, the other hand pulling your shirt up.

“You realize that anyone can walk into the hangar and see us?” You whispered, now wanting to admit that the thought went straight to your core.

He just hummed in response, his wandering hand moving up to your breasts, squeezing your breast none too gently. You gasped in response, grinding yourself against him.

“I’m going to test your patience sweet girl.” He growled low in your ear.

Your heart was in your throat. Wrecker was one of the most kind-hearted people you knew but since getting to know him a little more intimately you’d learned he wasn’t all soft and sweet. And since he learned you weren’t as fragile as you seemed, he’d enjoyed pushing your limits quite a bit.

“I was plenty patient during that mission mesh’la, considering I wanted nothing more than to lean you over the closest surface and fuck you.” His voice was a low grumble.

You whimpered in response, you could feel your slick soaking your panties.

“Look at you all quiet now, where’s my angry girl?” Wrecker asked as he nibbled on your ear.

Your face was uncomfortably flushed, your cunt was throbbing. Not thinking you moved your hand down to touch yourself through your blacks. Wrecker hooked his chin over your shoulder, watching your movements for a moment before putting his hand over your own.

“I haven’t even started yet cyare, are you sure I’m the impatient one?” His hot breath fanned down your neck before kissing your pulse point.

“Maybe not.” You murmured, leaning back allowing the hand up your shirt to pull it up over your head.

“No bra mesh’la? Naughty girl.” He chuckled, pulling his own shirt off before pulling your back against his chest.

Despite being together for so long you’d never get tired of feeling his muscle-bound body against yours. You could feel every movement against you as he wrapped his arms around you, pinning your arms to your sides, a hand dipping between your legs. His touch was teasingly light, kissing your bare shoulders before biting down on the junction of your shoulder and neck, sucking a bruise there.

You whimpered again, squirming in his lap, desperate for more friction.

Wrecker paused his actions. “Don’t draw too much attention to us cyare, you don’t want anyone to see us do you?”

Instead of responding you ground your ass against his cock earning a growl from him.

“Or maybe you do, naughty girl. You want one of my vod to see how riled up I get you? See how good I fuck you?” He bit another spot on your shoulder.

“Please Wrecker.” You whined.

“Pants off, now.” Wrecker all but pushed you off his lap roughly, pulling the waistband of his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

You pulled your pants down, you’d just barely gotten it below your ass when Wrecker pull you back down onto his lap.

“Giving the rest of them a show mesh’la? Why not just walk the halls naked?” Wrecker growled, hand grabbing your thighs roughly, pulling them apart so that they were hooked over his own.

He pushed your shoulders forward so that your ass lifted off of his lap, with his other hand grabbing his cock and rubbing its head through your folds. You knew you were dripping already, his quiet moans indicating he was enjoying the sight. He pulled you down onto his cock, the thick length spreading you open.

“Take it cyare, such a good girl.” His voice was deep as he reached around you to wrap a hand around your neck just below your chin.

He filled you more than you’d ever been before, you couldn’t move without his cock pressing against a sensitive spot inside you. His free hand went down to your clit rubbing lazy circles. You moved your hips, wanting movement but he stopped you, the grip on your neck tightening and pulling you back roughly. When you swallowed you could feel the strength of his hold.

Again you started squirming, the full feeling of his cock inside you building tension especially as he applies more pressure to your clit. He again tightened his grip, this time pulling your head back to his shoulder.

“I can sit here buried in your pussy all day cyare. I don’t think you deserve to cum after the attitude you gave me on that mission.” His voice was low but you could detect a smirk from him before he kissed your cheek before tilting your mouth to press against his.

“Please Wrecker. I want to feel you cum inside me.” You begged.

“Nice try mesh’la.” He chuckled, fingers against your clit pressing against you roughly.

The building tension was threatening to snap, arched your back, pressing yourself into his hand desperate for release. Wet heat radiated from inside your cunt, you could feel your wetness dripped down his cock and thighs as pleasure shook your core.

“Look at that cyare, squirting everywhere making a mess. You like my fingers and cock that much?” He teased. “Let’s see if you can do that again.”

His hand returned to your clit, now even more tender than before. The crescendo of pleasure building quickly again still riding on the pleasure of your last orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whimpered a chant under your breath as you felt yourself tighten around his cock again.

“That a girl, let go.” He moaned, kissing your neck.

Your second orgasm was more intense than the first, your vision blurring as pleasure flooded your body with the snap. Wrecker’s hips thrust into you with a few shallow thrusts before he moaned loudly, his cock twitching inside you as he came.

You stood on shaky legs to lean against the control panel, needing to get away from the stimulation but unable to stand on your own.

“You okay mesh’la?” Wrecker asked, concern evident in his voice as he gently touched your thigh.

You laughed, trying to brush off his concern. “Yeah, that was just a lot.”

You could hear him shifting behind you, assumably pulling his pants back up.

“C’mere cyare, let me hold you.” He murmured, pulling you back onto his lap, gentler this time.

You snuggled against him, his warm body gone from rigid to soft and comforting. His arms wrapped around you, cradling you to his chest. You two stayed like that for a few moments before you dressed and both of you made your way back to your room before you both passed out in each other’s arms.

#tbb wrecker #wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x you #bad batch imagine #bad batch smut

176 notes · View notes

andsheloved · 3 years

Note

reader listening to older music (think early 40's) and always keeping it secret from everyone bec she's embarrassed about it, but one day when steve comes home she didn't realize he was there and she's listening to her music and he's all surprised and just dances with his best girl?? pls??🥺

oh anon, you have no idea. what you have awakened within me. with this one.

i listen to older music (late 30's early 40's, maybe a bit of early 60's in there as well) ALL. THE. TIME. i love it so much holy cow, and i'd be lying if i don't think of a similar scenario at least once a day.

also! general thought - don't ever be embarrassed about your music taste (or anything that makes you happy for that matter), you deserve happiness! and whether that comes in the form of 40's music or not, let it make you happy unapologetic-ally!

full thoughts below the cut because i am now yearning

......................................................................................................................

'Dear, I thought I'd drop a line, the weather's cool, the folks are fine. I'm in bed each night at nine, P.S, I love you.'

The soft jazz drifted through your apartment, you hummed contently at the singers voice. Closing your eyes, you swayed slowly side to side, imagining what it was like to be there, to be with Steve back then.

You could see it almost as clear as day, celebratory red, white, and blue bunting hung from every corner, the wooden dance floor quietly creaking every once in a while as people moved about, some dancing, some chatting, some running across the floor with a drink in their hand.

You could picture him, his crisp uniform making him even more handsome than usual. You remembered all the times you had begged him to put it on, smiling to yourself.

"How'd I look?" He asked, opening his arms, turning to give you a full look, you clapped at his little fashion showcase.

"Like a real Captain!"

He laughed, "I still think I should've worn the outfit" he said, offering you his arm as he led you to the dance floor.

"Hey I never said you couldn't! All I said was-"

"It would be a little much for this whole thing I know, I know" he threw his right hand in the air, feigning surrender

"Plus... I don't think I'd ever get a chance to dance with you if everyone started standing in lines for autographs"

"Oh so that's why!" He teased "You just want me all to yourself, huh?"

"Maybe..."

He smiled one of those golden boy smiles, not un-similar to the ones he flashed on stage during his tours, the only difference being that this one, this one was genuine.

'Yesterday we had some rain, but all in all I can't complain. Was it dusty on the train? P.S, I love you'

You were too caught up in your own day dream to notice the door opening,

"Doll?"

His strong voice ripped you from your thoughts, you scrambled for your phone, pausing the music instantly

"Didn't know you'd be back so soon!" You replied nervously, you didn't know how he'd react, you'd never played your music in front of him because you were scared it would bring too many thoughts back to the surface, too many memories of the war and Bucky and all he had been through.

"What were you just playing?"

Oh no. You honestly couldn't tell with what tone he had just addressed you with, but as he walked over to you, giving you a better look at his features, was he crying? You knew you shouldn't have risked even playing it in your shared apartment.

"Billie Holiday-" You cut yourself off, "Steve, I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"

"Could you... Play it again?"

He was crying.

"I used to love that song..." A sad smile appeared on his face, how could you not oblige?

You pressed the play button on your phone, the soft melody floating through your apartment once more.

He held out his hand, raising an eyebrow "May I have this dance?"

He always had this effect on you, making you feel like a princess, even in your lounge wear.

You reached for his hand and he pulled you softly against his chest, placing his other hand on your lower back like a complete gentleman.

As the two of you danced, you could have sworn your heart beat so fast that it could fly out of your chest. He held you with so much gentle care and love, like you were the most fragile thing on this earth.

Placing a soft kiss on your forehead, he whispered,

"My best girl."

..................................................................................................................

anon i hope you enjoy! my heart is now soaring! also i know this song came out in i think 1945 so not very period accurate, but it's 'ps i love you' by billie holiday! one of my personal favorites and it's too cute! ily and mwauh!

#madeline loves steve rogers!#steve rogers hours #madeline rambles!#oh my gosh i am yearning indeed #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #captain america x reader

113 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 3 years

Text

Saturnine. Yan Chrollo x Reader [SMUT]

Tags/warnings: Dubcon, oral sex, creampie, my brain melting, condescending ???, Chrollo always has smth to say Word count: 2.2k. Note: it is finally done .

When gazing into the mirror, it should be easy to recognize the reflection staring back as your own. It’s the sight you’ve seen your entire life. Maybe the light in your eyes is less noticeable and your smiles no longer appear genuine, but in the end, it still physically bears your image.

You shiver at the chilly air kissing your bare skin, goosebumps erupting at the lack of clothing. Thin fabric clings tightly around your body, sheer and intricate in its lace design, yet astonishingly soft to the touch. It accentuates the swell of your chest, the black as midnight fabric stopping just shy above your midriff. A matching thong connects to sheer thigh highs through a garter belt to complete the set. Never in your life can you recall wearing such a lascivious outfit. Nor did you think you’d ever wear one for him.

Covering your exposed cleavage with your arms, you lower your head, fingernails pressing so harshly against your skin that it hurts. The pain serves to ground you in reality, proof that this is happening and not a dream.

“Did I… do this right?” You murmur, not used to how Chrollo is wordlessly assessing your trembling figure. Normally the air is full of conversation, equal parts rigid and provocative, a verbal game you’ve been forced to navigate. You still prefer the mind games over this maddening silence. You’re convinced he can hear the way your heart pounds viciously as if it was attempting to free itself from your body altogether, the current stress it’s under too much to withstand.

Chrollo moves a step closer and you take a deep, shaky breath. Grey eyes rake over your body, like a predator monitoring its prey, inspecting every inch of you. He spreads his fingers against your stomach, coarse fingers gliding over your skin, gradually moving upwards.

“Mm. You did perfectly.” His voice is rich and husky against your ear, spoken lowly so that only you may hear it. When his fingers reach their intended target, he cups your chest and lays his head on your shoulder. You watch his actions in the reflection of the mirror, glossy lips parting but no words managing to form on your tongue. Emotions swirl within you like an unrelenting vortex. Repulsion. Frustration. Shame. That it came to this, lowering yourself to a level you never wanted to be reduced to.

While you ruminate in your misery, Chrollo presses featherlight kisses from the crook of your neck to your jaw. His lips are soft and well taken care of, curling into a smile at how your pulse quickens. There are numerous mysterious surrounding Chrollo, but you do not doubt that he’s enjoying himself now. Your attention is brought back to his hands on your chest and how he kneads them. A blush ignites when you feel something hard press brush your ass, already guessing what it is.

“S-so you’re going to,” you struggle to get out, releasing a gasp when he suddenly pinches your nipple, “Keep… keep your promise, right?”

The clarification is for your peace of mind. An internal justification is necessary to continue with this illicit act, doubts plaguing your mind. You feel his chest rumble against your back, a deep chuckle leaving him. Regret comes swiftly, knowing that anytime you speak to Chrollo his responses sting deep, piercing your skin and festering.

One of his hands comes to your jaw, tilting your head back to look at him. The proximity has your eyes wide as a doe, his warm breath fanning against your face, dark tresses of hair tickling your face. His grip is tight but not painful. A not so subtle reminder of the Phantom Troupe leader’s innate strength, that goes beyond any measurement your mind could conjure up. Your squeeze your eyes shut when he leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of your lips.

“What if I don’t?” Chrollo’s question has you frowning, eyelids fluttering open so you can shoot him a glare. He stares back unfazed, amusement visible from his closed mouth smile and relaxed posture, clearly not feeling intimidated by your little show. You decide to give it some thought, knowing he’ll scrutinize your response if not chosen carefully. Though, it’s admittedly difficult to concentrate when your face is burning up and his hand is still groping your chest.

Swallowing thickly, you arrive at a half-decent comeback. “I’ll… I’ll hate you.”

It sounded far better in your head.

Chrollo raises an eyebrow at your rebuttal but decides to entertain it. “Don’t you already?”

“I’ll hate you even more,” comes your reply, stumbling out before you could think it over. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he doesn’t take visible offense. Instead, the bastard laughs again. Affectionately, Chrollo brushes his knuckles over your cheek, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Even more, huh,” he hums, your nonsensical ramblings sounding worse when repeated back. “If that’s the threat I’m contending with, then I’ll be sure to stick to my word.”

You’re not exactly reassured by this, but decide to leave it for now. Suddenly, Chrollo steps back, freeing you from his grip. Before you can ask about what he’s doing, his hands start loosening his belt. Ah. So the time for negotiating is over. His dress pants fall, revealing a prominent bulge pushing against his briefs.

“Now get on your knees for me.”

It wasn’t a request. You do as he says, hyper-aware of how he’s staring at you, the tile from your shared master bedroom cold against your shins. To save what little modesty you have remaining, you readjust your bra so your chest no longer threatens to spill out. Heartbeat picking up in pace, you lift a shaky hand, palming his crotch through the fabric.

The muscles in his thighs tighten, yet every other aspect of him remains thoroughly composed. Playing with the waistband, you slowly pull it down, revealing Chrollo’s half-hard member. It’s long, around six inches when erect, with a prominent vein that you’ve learned is rather sensitive. Precum is already leaking from the head, a sight that worsens the blush on your face.

Chrollo runs his hands through your hair, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. You pick up on the unspoken encouragement to not keep him waiting. Readjusting yourself into a more comfortable position, you take his dick fully into your hands, giving it a tentative stroke to test the waters. No verbal response. He’s excellent at maintaining his composure, creepy as it may be. Pumping his cock from the base, you bow your head down, eyelids fluttering shut as you kiss and lick the tip. That earns you a sharp inhale and a tightened grip but nothing else. Wetting your lips with your tongue, you continue licking the tip while jerking him off, noting that his cum has a slight salty taste to it.

Now that your confidence has somewhat been built up, you part your lips to take more of him in, getting adjusted to his size. Chrollo lets out a shaky exhale, fingers curling deeper into your hair. It’s difficult to get into a solid rhythm as your anxiety is unrelenting. Being so vulnerable in front of a person whose hands, which are now intertwined with your hair, have slaughtered countless people.

He could do the same to you at any time, you think, despite his insistence for not wanting to. Hollowing out your cheeks, you manage to take more of him in, stopping just shy as not to activate your gag reflex. It makes your stomach churn when he lovingly strokes your cheek, looking down at you with eyes glazed over with crazed lust. Of course, he wouldn’t make this easy on you and act different — he continues with the delusion that this is love.

“Eager, now are we?” Chrollo laughs breathlessly. You decide to ignore the comment, too focused on having him finish so you can move on with your night. The low groans and whispers of your name are starting to affect you, a factor that only adds to your shame.. Pangs of heat are building up in between your legs, which you subconsciously rub together in a feeble attempt to relieve yourself. Chrollo quietly groans, content at the sight, dick twitching in your mouth. You wish he hadn’t noticed just how turned on you’re growing — not that you’re surprised with how unfairly observant he is — fully prepared for more scathing comments.

“I’m glad you stopped being so stubborn,” he pushes himself deeper into your mouth, gripping your head tightly enough not to let you move away, “So I can finally have my way with you.”

You wince at how he forces his dick down your throat, tears stinging the corners of your eyes and lungs screaming for air. Chrollo drinks in the sight, shuddering, bucking his hips, and pulling your face as tight against him as he can. You figure his release is getting closer from how erratic his movements are growing. At least it’ll be over soon. This line of thought is interrupted as he pulls away, saliva and cum connecting your mouth to his dick in a thin line, which has you frowning. Relishing the opportunity to regain yourself, your lungs greedily gulp in air, and you cough from his previous actions.

Chrollo extends a hand out to you which you hesitantly accept. The more human side is starting to show, his skin sheening with sweat, bare chest heaving for air much like yours, and black tresses sticking to the sides of his face. Your lips part, intending to ask why he stopped. He places both his just hands below your ass, hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing. Yelping, you struggle and cling to him as not to fall, eyes wide with confusion.

“W-what—”

“Wrap your legs around me,” he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and you do as he says, scared that you’ll fall otherwise. “Mm. Good girl.”

Chrollo carries you over to the wall, your back pressing against the hard surface and feeling its coolness on your bare skin. After thinking about it for a moment, you understand what it is he intends to do next, tightening your grip around him. He positions the head of his cock against your opening, smiling at how wet you are. At least he’s too focused to comment on your current state. You look to the side, not wanting to see the pleased expression you know is on his face.

“I’ll take care of you after,” Chrollo promises, slowly pushing himself inside you. You take a deep breath, gripping his shoulders tightly, fingernails digging into his skin. At least he’s allowing you to adjust. You yelp when he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging it so that you look him dead in the eye. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hm?”

A half-choked out moan leaves your lips as he fills you, feeling his sizeable length stretching you out.

“Y-yes,” You pant, carnal desire outweighing any solid reasoning at the moment. Chrollo continues to pound relentlessly into your cunt, burying his face in your neck. He’s coming undone, fucking you with a strength that has you breathless. You catch occasional guttural groans of your name and don’t want to admit how nice it sounds.

“I always knew you’d come around.”

The sound of skin on skin fills the room, mixed in with his grunts and your moans. Squeezing your ass, his thrusts grow erratic, before he finally stills. Chrollo releases deep inside you, pulling you down onto him, hot ropes of cum filling you and seeping out.

He grits his teeth, shuddering at his release. All is still for a moment aside from your heavy chests. Chrollo gathers himself before you do, slowly pulling himself out. You feel his cum as it drips out of you and bite your lip at the possible implications. Everything is so warm and your body feels terribly sore, having to clutch onto him for stability when he puts you back down. Chrollo doesn’t seem to mind this, laughing as he runs his hands through your mousled hair.

“How precious.”

You yelp when he picks you up, bridal style this time, your face pressing against his chest.

“It looks like you needed some help there, dear.” Chrollo hums, placing you down onto the bed with a gentleness you weren’t used to. There’s no way any normal human could be this collected already. Taking deep breaths, you attempt to calm yourself, not wanting to be completely undone before him. Chrollo watches with intrigue while you do so, his eyes piercing through your trembling body. When you finally manage to get your breathing steady, he gently pushes your shoulders down and spreads your legs.

“Now, about that promise of mine,” he presses open-mouthed kisses from your ankle to your thighs, “I intend to keep it. We’ll keep going until you’re no longer able to stand.”

#chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #chrollo imagine #chrollo lucilfer imagine #chrollo #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere #yandere x reader #not sfw #tw: dubcon #yandere hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter imagine #hxh x reader #yandere hxh x reader #my stuff

1K notes · View notes