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#my wrist is acting up so despite it being my day off
ohmyoverland · 7 months
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where to watch only murders in the building
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sweet-as-an-angel · 5 months
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Yandere Wild West Outlaw!'s Reaction to You Trying to Escape
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Warnings: Slight Sexual Content, Implied Sexual Thoughts, Dominant Outlaw Confirmed, Kidnapping, Restraining/Binding, Binding Kink ( 👀), Punishment, Outlaw having Intrusive Thoughts, Forced Proximity (And They Were Roommates), No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
♡ He has you tied down to a chair so quickly you don’t even get the chance to feel the wind being knocked out of you.
♡ Yandere Outlaw hasn’t survived this long by letting pretty little things like you turn the tables on him. And if his unwavering strength and endurance aren’t enough to confirm that, his knotting skills are.
♡ “Thought ya could pull the wool over my eyes, didn’tya,” the Outlaw drawls, pulling the rope tight over your wrists, panting, recovering from your frolic with freedom.
♡ He leans in, close enough that you can smell the rock-beaten freshness of his shirt, can feel the warmth of his anger radiating against your skin.
♡ “Suppose I’ll just have to discipline ya. Make ya nice and obedient.”
♡ Despite the low, husking tone of his voice, the quiet promise of promiscuity in his drawl, Outlaw’s rendition of punishment comes as… solitude.
♡ He leaves you tied to that chair for hours, riding off into the desert, leaving you with nothing to entertain you save for your thoughts and the wonderings of what he’d do to you when he returned.
♡ You might view this as a cold, calloused method of behavioural conditioning. Starving you, not letting you stretch your legs or go to the bathroom.
♡ Of course, the punishment is still horrific. But, rather unintentionally so.
♡ You see, in the moments between Outlaw’s two-minute tango between you, himself and his rope, something in his brain had switched. Snapped.
♡ Having you look up at him with wide eyes as you writhed beneath his touch, the burn of the rope, the pleas starting to fall from between your lips for him to let you go, stirred something in him. A primal frenzy. A dark need.
♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t think straight, his mind flooding with involuntary ideas, notions of what he could do with – to – you while you’re bound and at his mercy.
♡ He doesn’t know what happened; why having your body pressed so closely to him in such a thrashing, violent, desperate encounter has left him with a heavy burden in his heart and in…other places.
♡ He’s wrangled captives before and they’ve never had the same licentious effect as you did. Then again, he’s never kept a captive for this long, either. And certainly not willingly.
♡ Yandere Outlaw eventually returns, the thought of you helpless in that chair weighing heavy on his mind all day, taking him down avenues and annals of thought he’d only have the opportunity to explore under the cover of darkness.
♡ Of course, he was concerned that you must be hungry by now. Thirsty, too.
♡ That, and…
♡ How there’d be nothing to stop him from having his way with you.
♡ Yandere Outlaw shakes his head, his horse letting out a puff, as if she could read his mind. Don’t, she told him.
♡ “Don’t worry,” he said, voice quiet. He patted her mane, rubbed the space between her ears. “I won’t.”
♡ Upon Yandere Outlaw’s return, he cuts you loose. He doesn’t apologise, but his silence is thick enough with the accent of shame that you can tell he regrets, in whatever slim capacity, what he’s done.
♡ He puts together a simple meal tonight, either for a lack of trusting that you won’t spike his meal with one of the earth’s thousand natural poisons, or as an apology for his actions.
♡ That night, as you lay next to the Outlaw in bed, your hands and legs bound to the bedposts, the Outlaw looks over you. Watches you.
♡ He doesn’t know why the image of you being tied up hadn’t aroused him as much as it had earlier. Especially now, of all times, with you sleeping beside him, entirely incapable of defending yourself if he acted on his primal desires.
♡ Perhaps it was the thrill of the prospect of having everything on the line, of losing you. Perhaps it was the display of his strength, his ability to make you do whatever he pleased through physical force alone.
♡ Yandere Outlaw tried to dampen his thoughts by placing his hat over his face; to stop the heat he was certain made his cheeks glow in the pitch blackness of the cabin. 
♡ And to stop the onslaught of another issue. 
♡ Taking a dip in the cold waters of the river this time of night didn’t much appeal to him. Especially when he could indulge himself a little longer in the image of you gagged, bound and entirely his.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost
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sunnyskiesscareme · 4 months
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My Heart’s Racing, and it isn’t the Exercise
Luke Hughes x reader
Summary: Luke Hughes has a gym crush, and his brother wants a sister in law
Warnings: there’s a reference to like… dropping a weight on his head to induce memory loss, you’ll understand if you read it 😭 other than that, nothing!! (Unless u include Luke embarrassing himself but that’s just cuz he’s a cutie patootie)
Notes: I’m so sorry I’ve barely posted!! Uni is kicking my ass. Still, I appreciate all the support on my previous fics!! Y’all are so kind!! Also, a lil reference to the readers job as a hairdresser
Luke was sure that if y/n wasn’t here, he’d cry.
He had explicitly told his brother that he needed to be at the gym within 10am-11:30am, and no later. He hadn’t told him why, exactly, but he thought he made himself pretty clear anyhow. It wasn’t like Jack to be late to anything, but Jack had expressed that he believed you couldn’t be late to the gym in the first place. To him, it was a personal pleasure. Luke would have agreed if it weren’t for the girl with the strict schedule, who went everyday, at the same time, with no exceptions.
He couldn’t explain that to Jack without the certainty of him telling the whole Devil’s team about his little crush, and suddenly the chirping would go beyond anything he’d ever live down. So instead, when Jack would roll his eyes at his brother with a comment about being uptight, Luke would bite back with a reminder that Jack had assigned certain coats to certain hooks in the entrance way. Surely, Luke was not the uptight one in that apartment.
Jack had only hurried things up when his brother threatened to leave without him, jingling his keys and walking to the door with exaggerated stomps. Still, they had only left the house at 10:41, and for reasons unbeknownst to Jack, Luke had refused to switch to the gym nearest their building. It was 10:53 when they got there, and Luke ignored his brothers scolds for his crooked parking job, rushing to check who was at the girl’s favourite machine. It was then that Luke realized he had never learned her name. Had she ever even had a full conversation with him?
She was there, in all of her beauty, but Luke didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he walked over to the chest press for his warmup as if he had never seen her. His sudden stop-and-stare session did not go unnoticed by his brother, who not so subtly squinted his eyes in her direction, trying to find what had his little brother so dazed. His eyes flickered to the dejected look on his face, back to the girl, and then to the foot that Luke was subconsciously tapping. A knowing grin grew on Jack's face before he wiped it off with the back of his hand, wringing his wrist out in an act of preparation for his dead-lift warmup. He halted when he began to pass by Luke, stomping his foot on the ground exaggeratingly as he turned to his brother.
"Luke, Luke," Jack said, bending down to reach ear level with him. "You see that girl over there? The one on the, uh, the walking thingy?"
"The elliptical." Luke corrected, a little bit too fast. He’d learned the name of the machine a while ago, just in case he needed it one day.
"Yeah, whatever. She's real pretty, huh?"
Luke's eyes met Jack's so fast it hurt, and he blinked a couple of times to make the room stop spinning. His knuckles turned white at the grip he had on the bars of the machine, despite having paused the lifting to speak to his brother. "What- why?"
"I think I’m gonna ask her out."
"No!" Luke yelped, and those in the gym who weren't wearing headphones or struggling to breathe with the intensity of their workout glanced over at him curiously. His cheeks burned bright red, and Jack had to repress a smirk. "She’s," he shook his head, "She's not even your type."
“What? Of course she is. You don’t think she’s pretty?”
“She’s-!” Luke started, chest puffed up and eyes wide as he went to defend the girl. That was, until the smile on his brothers face looked a little bit too evil to be classified as adoring, and Luke squinted his eyes at him. “What are you trying to do here?”
Jack let out a girlish giggle and gave him a smack to his knee. “I think you think she’s pretty!”
“Shut up!” He wacked his brother right back.
“I think you’ve beaten me to her!”
“Jack, stop.” Luke begged, gripping his brothers wrist strongly enough for Jack to wince, his eyes wide as saucers.
Jack snickered, wringing out his wrist. He glanced back at the girl, whose machine beeped as she finished her cool down. “C’mon! She’s done. Go talk to her!”
“What? No!” Luke refused, his voice much quieter and harsher than his brothers. “No, she’s leaving anyway.”
Jack glanced at the girl again, who had finally stepped off of the machine and stood in front of a window. Her silhouette was black as she tipped her head towards the ceiling to chug down some water. He looked back at Luke. “I don’t think so… looks like she’s just having a drink before her next workout.”
“No.” Luke shook his head, certainty in his movements. “It’s 11:30. This is when she leaves.”
Luke seemed to have not realized the weight his words held before he said them, and quickly made himself busy with his machine before Jack’s head jerked foreword, his jaw dropped far enough that if he had dared to look, Luke would be able to count all of his teeth.
“Woah, woah, wait a minute!” He said, stepping in front of his little brother so that he had no casual excuse for avoiding his gaze. “Is this why you’ve been whining every day about when we get here?”
Luke cringed, ending his first rep early to stick an earbud in his ear. “I’m working out. Can’t hear ya.”
“Oh my god!” Jack gaped, yanking the earbud back out. “This is why I have to go to a gym 15 minutes away from my apartment- that has a gym in the building?”
“It’s only 10, don’t be such a baby.” Luke groaned, seeing no point in trying to hide his little secret any longer.
“Oh my god. Luke, I’m being serious right now, if you don’t go talk to her- I will.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would.”
Luke’s eyes worriedly flicked back to where she stood before, but let out a breath when she wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t know wether it was of relief or disappointment, but he forced himself not to dwell on the weird feeling in his chest. “She’s… She’s gone anyways.”
Jacks head whipped to the window and then back to his brother so fast that Luke was surprised he wasn’t in pain. He quickly promised himself he’d give him pain if he looked at him like that any longer- his brows slightly furrowed, eyes more pitiful than annoyed. Jack let out a soft huff. “Next time then.”
---
Jack was ready before Luke was the next morning, bouncing on the balls of his feet on the mat in front of the door. Luke walked sluggishly, something he hadn’t done since he had first seen her. He was sure this would be the last day at her gym- certain he’d be too humiliated to return.
“Could you wipe that look off your face, please?” Luke asked, annoyed.
His grin only grew, flashing his recently fixed straight white teeth. “Why would I? Todays the day- Lukey Boy is getting a girlfriend!”
Luke rolled his eyes.
The 10 minute car ride was mostly silent. To Jack, it had felt like the longest ride he’d ever taken, even with all of the complaints he’d given about the length of the drive in the past. This was most certainly the worst of them all. To Luke, it had been the shortest. He’d listed multiple plans for certain scenarios in his head, noting that if he really needed to, there were weights near the elliptical she used that he could drop on his head if he needed to forget he’d ever seen her. Maybe his brother would feel bad enough to never bring it up again. He planned to run a few fast miles on a treadmill beforehand, so that he could build up some adrenaline, and blame his red face on the exercise.
Jack walked in with a pep in his step, only stopping when his brother suddenly grabbed his wrist. His face was white and his eyes wide, and Jack had never seen him so scared to talk to a girl before. “She’s gonna think I’m a creep.”
“No she won’t! Just… don’t be a creep, and you’ll be fine.”
Luke releases his brothers wrist to run a stressed hand down his face. “I hate you.”
“Luke, it’s gonna be fine, I’m telling you.” Jack tried to reason. He sent him a funny smile, “Plus, you’re in the NHL. what girl would say no to that?”
Luke didn’t laugh, and Jack licked his lip awkwardly. “Buddy, just do it. There’s no use comforting you now- she hasn’t even rejected you yet!”
“Yet!”
“No!” Jack gripped Luke’s shoulders tightly. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Now go. Now. It’s time.”
Luke almost tripped, his feet too nervous to react to the push his brother gave him. He prayed that it was too bright outside to see the reflection in the window her machine overlooked, and that she didn’t see any of that. He stood awkwardly a safe distance away from her, looking back at his brother who gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up.
She was changing the song coming through her headphones when she felt the presence of someone next to her. She turned, startled when someone was actually there. He was tall, but had a young, sweet face. His hair was long enough for him to have to push behind his ear and she could imagine him hating it. Most people with curly or wavy hair did, she had learned from work, but his was her favourite texture to cut and work with. She’d recognized him well. He seemed to have a similar schedule to her, and she had used him as proof to her friends that she wasn’t uptight. He was too handsome to look at, she had decided one day. She couldn’t afford a gym crush, not when she was doing so well with her gym streak. It would complicate things. She flicked an earbud out, giving him a friendly, but curious smile.
“Hi.” He said, the word breathy.
“Hi.” She said back with a slight chuckle. “Did you need something?”
“Oh! Sorry, uh,” she didn’t notice Jack watching them, cringing at the way his brother stuttered. “I was wondering… if I could use that machine.”
She blinked at him, eyes flickering to the 3 other ellipticals lining the large window, still and unused. She nodded anyway. “Uh, yeah! Sure!” She said, stepping off and beside the guy, who looked much taller from the new angle. “Are, are the other ones not working?”
“Uh-“
“Nope!” She jumped at the loud voice behind her, looking right in time for her to miss how Jack stepped on the machines cord, unplugging it. He smacked his hand on the buttons exaggeratedly, proving to her that it wouldn’t turn on.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been hogging the only working one, haven’t I?”
“No, no! You’re okay. Uh, I just, um-“
“My brother thinks you’re pretty!” Jack blurted out, cutting off his stuttering.
Luke looked mortified, shoulders curling in on himself. Y/n reddened, her lips unintentionally curling up into a giddy smile. “Oh! Thank you!” She let out a nervous chuckle. “Um, you’re his brother?”
“I’m so sorry.” He said instead of answering, and she hoped he didn’t look so sick because his brother lied.
“Don’t be! I’m,” she let out another nervous chuckle, “I’m very flattered.”
“You should let him buy you a smoothie from the drink bar.” Jack suggested, grinning wildly. Y/n felt brave under his enthusiasm.
“Jack!” Luke pleaded, fists balled up.
“He doesn’t have to pay.” She said, and she smiled awkwardly at their intense gazes. “Uh, I mean… are you thirsty?”
“You want to get a smoothie with me?”
“Well, sure! Only if you tell me your name though.” She giggled
He looked at her, his gaping lips turning up into a smile. “Luke.”
Luke had never loved his brother more. He hadn’t listened as he came up with some excuse for leaving the two of them alone. Something about already having water or having to get his workout in while he could, Luke assumed. He didn’t really care. He had imagined a million ways his day could go, and he had somehow lived the one he didn’t think would ever happen. He smiled at her, panicking when she began to reach for the pack she had around her waist. “I’ll pay!”
She looked back up at him. “Wow! A cute boy calls me pretty and buys me a smoothie in one day? This isn’t what I imagined would happen when I walked into the gym today.” She giggled, walking with him.
“Yeah… neither did I.”
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yjhzies · 14 days
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“I'm yours.” — Yoon Jeonghan
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Genre: fluff Warning: sulky hannie ☹️ Pairings: jeonghan x actress + f!reader Word count : 0.6k
★ note · got so giggly while writing this ^^
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You joyfully walk down the street toward your house, beaming with delight at the sight of it.
Indeed, the day at the gathering today was incredibly exhausting. Maybe being an actress wasn't so great as you thought, but you love being one. And, as Jeonghan always says, the most important thing is to love and enjoy your profession, regardless of what it is. And you really don't disagree. You love and enjoy what you are and doing right now, but it is okay to feel... I don't know, tired? sometimes. Despite all of this, there is nothing more comforting than being at home, especially with your loved one.
You carefully grasp the pastry box in your arms as you open the door.
"I'm home-"
"Welcome," To your surprise, Jeonghan was standing and leaning against the wall to greet you. He usually waits for you in the living room, so you flinch, not expecting him to be there.
"Were you waiting for me here?" Taking off your shoes on the shoe rack, you ask. Taking the pastry box from your hand and setting it on the coffee table, Jeonghan nodded.
"I watched the last episode," Jeonghan sat down on the couch, "of the drama." he finished his sentence as his gaze fixed on you. You looked up at him, "You did?" you smiled as you took the pastry box.
"Did you enjoy it?" you asked, placing the pastry box in the fridge. "No." Jeonghan's voice sounded stern and direct as he kept staring at you. You turned around to face him, "Why?" you pout as you walk towards him. "Was my acting bad?"
Jeonghan looked away as you sat next to him. "Is that really the case?" you asked, tilting your head and sighing as you looked away. "I also think that my acting has gotten worse," you say with sentimentality.
"That's not what I meant," Jeonghan paused, "the reason is something else." he added. "Then, what could the reason be?" You mumble, purposefully making yourself heard by him.
You really knew what could make him this sulky; the kiss scene at the end. Additionally, you knew that he didn't even mind it because he knows that you would never kiss someone else—the angle of the camera just creates the illusion that you are kissing. It is just his way of receiving extra affection from you (and you love his ways).
"I really can't think of it..." you sigh. "Well- it was the... ending." Jeonghan stumbled, trying not to make himself sound too obvious. You tried your hardest not to burst into laughter as you stared at his pouty, sulky face.
"Maybe I'll figure it out later." you spoke, getting up from the couch to leave. "No-," Jeonghan held your wrist to stop you from walking away. "Why don't you... try thinking now?" he stammered, avoiding eye contact. As you sat down, you could not help but laugh at how adorable he was.
Caressing his cheeks, you spoke, "I know exactly which scene you mean." you chuckled. Jeonghan pressed his face deeply into your palm to cover up his flushed cheeks.
Jeonghan is rarely the one who is shy and flustered, but when he is, he is the cutest thing ever.
He gives you a bear hug and presses his face into your neck as you lean in to kiss his pinkish cheek. "You know that I would never do that right? It was the camera angle." you spoke, gently. Jeonghan nodded.
"Seeing the people ship you both made me..."
"Jealous?" you giggled.
"It's not like that!" With a protest, Jeonghan pressed his face further into your neck. "There is nothing to be jealous about," you reply, gently pressing your cheek against his head.
"what the world doesn't know is that, I'm yours." You continued, earning a giggle from Jeonghan.
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tomatopers · 2 months
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❝ I'm. . . late?! ❞
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in honor of me also forgetting vday :,) here is my first post for this acc !! I also need to remember to make an intro post n stuff, and hopefully i'll make some friends on here eventually </3 i see ppl interacting with their anons/followers and it's sooo cute when will that be me !!!!
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They forgot Valentine's Day... surely the nineteenth is just as special? Diluc, Zhongli x GN!Reader (separate)
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Diluc watched you silently from a window, the sunny scene outside feeling worlds away from his own dim office. You were sitting on the stone wall surrounding the Dawn Winery, pretending to read one of his boring novels while pointedly ignoring him. He was very often unaware of his stumbles, this being his first relationship, but wouldn't he would catch on soon enough?
Sure it was immature to still act huffy at this age, but Valentine's day was 5 days ago! Not one! FIVE! You had to witness Lisa flirting with the Acting Grand Master for hours, which wasn't uncommon in the slightest, but the librarian seemed to make use of all her cheesy lines on the holiday.
The stone was frigid beneath your bare legs, and you were reminded that the sun hadn't yet begun to do its job this early in the month as your legs grew numb. Perhaps on this fifth day of snubbing your lover, you'd spend the night at a bar- maybe even in Venti's company, or Kaeya's. That last ditch effort to get him to notice your huffy behavior never failed.
The worst part of this whole affair was that you couldn't even be disappointed or properly upset in peace. How could you, when this was clearly not an intentional mishap? Diluc worked diligently, and was far more dependable than most; Though, this trait of his only served to deepen your guilt. Perhaps you should apologize for this childish behavior... Maybe talk it out like proper adults...
6 o'clock found you on a barstool at Angels' share, a little early for drinking but the glass in your hand was clearly not your first. Kaeya sat to your right, an arm resting on the counter as he lent an ear to your woes. Venti stood to your left, strumming his lyre quietly and pitching in jests during the quieter moments.
The door opened at 7 on the dot, and you turned around despite knowing who stood behind you. The backlighting of the evening sun made his hair glow like fire, exaggerating the irritation on Diluc's face to resemble anger. You stood up, slightly tipsy but no less aware, and grasped Kaeya's shoulder to steady yourself before walking forward.
"Good evening, Master Diluc. What brings you here so early?" He seemed to glare at you before casting a glance at Charles. The bartender visibly jumped, quickly bowing a greeting before averting his eyes as Diluc grabbed your wrist and tugged you out of the bar. His grip, though firm, wasn't the slightest bit painful- even now, in whatever bitter mood he was in, Diluc always treated you with the utmost care.
You felt even more guilty for acting the way you did.
He released his hold on you in a more private space, tucked behind a couple trees, and waited. Just as you knew he would seek you out immediately after work, he knew you'd soon crumble under his stare and explain what you wanted. Those red eyes, sometimes blazing with anger or warm with love, were now passive and unreadable.
"Well?"
You felt heat behind your eyes, feeling the tears before they could escape down your cheeks. How stupid. It was hard to form a sentence between sniffles, so you stood and cried as he enveloped you in a hug. Maybe you had more than a few drinks back at the bar...
When your tears were all but spent, you gripped his hand in embarrassment, unable to meet his gaze. "...I'm sorry."
"What for?"
You sighed, "I've been such a child about this, it honestly wasn't even that important yet I-"
"If it bothered you, then it's important. To me."
There it was again, the ever chivalrous Diluc and his overflowing compassion when it came to you. Despite the temptation to lie and play it off, you sheepishly admitted, "It's just that, uh- a few days ago, it was Valentine's day... and we didn't really um- celebrate together... But! It's okay! You do so much already and I honestly don't need to do anything for some silly holiday when we can do stuff like that any day and.."
Looking up, you trailed off into a confused silence. Diluc's face was red, and he was the one now avoiding your eyes. "I'm- My apologies. I admit, it did slip my mind, but that is no excuse. It's more than a silly holiday, and as such, I would be honored if you would allow me an attempt to make it up to you." You burst out laughing, and he looked relieved. You really had no reason to be upset, not with this cute of a lover.
"I would allow you all the attempts possible, Mr. Ragnvindr. All the attempts and more." He smiled and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as you followed him out of the alley. "Shall we visit that famous traveling chef then, darling? I heard he's in town. Or the Good Hunter, for something casual? Or perhaps we could buy you one of those gorgeous necklaces they have at the-"
You pulled him in by his collar, feeling him stiffen at the kiss before relaxing. "Diluc, sweetheart, I was thinking something closer to home? I can make dinner, and," you gestured at the setting sun, "the night is still young, I'm sure we can have some... fun, in that great big house of yours."
He turned an even brighter red, trying to cover his blush with the hand you weren't holding. "...That would be perfect."
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It was rarer for Zhongli to go a day without speaking to you than it was for him to remember his wallet. That's why it was evident to even those around you that there was something amiss. You worked at a teahouse, and that just happened to be where Zhongli's favorite tea was sold. When you weren't working, you'd help out at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, or stroll with him along the boardwalk. Plenty of time together, to say the least.
When the regulars witnessed you not serving the consultant's tea, as you always did, it immediately became a source of chatter- Some of the older women were having quite a laugh about young lovers' quarrels, though your relationship with Zhongli was far past the "young love" stage. As you walked from table to table, it was hard to ignore his stare practically burning holes through you.
The first whole hour of his visit must've passed this way; your every movement under the scrutiny of the ex-archon, your coworkers, and half the guests in the teahouse. Your work wasn't any different than usual, no. In fact, you might even be more productive now that you weren't stopping to chat with Zhongli whenever your hands were free. The owner of the place would never admit it, but he too was curious of the predicament under his roof.
Your scheduled break was minutes away, the one you would typically spend at Zhongli's table, but you clearly didn't intend to do so today. For a being such as him, it was inevitable that certain things would slip his mind, but Valentine's Day? You had planned out the entire day as a surprise, the holiday had even fallen on one of Zhongli's leisure days, but he called in the morning to tell you he'd be assisting the Traveler and would not come by. It wasn't even a brief task! He was gone for five days!
It wasn't like you hadn't told him anything, either. "Oh illustrious Rex Lapis, God among men, I beseech your presence in my humble abode on the final day of this week." He had chuckled at your attempt of mimicking the speech of those who cowered before him in his days of glory, taking your hand with a smile and a kiss. It was going to be perfect! But the plans were discarded, and the cake you made still sat untouched in the fridge...
Xingqiu walked in with his usual cheerful wave, heading to the back corner where he'd spend a couple hours reading; As though he noticed your restlessness, he smiled and offered you a seat to join him, "I'll take you up on your offer to regale me with the stories from your trip overseas, if I may?" You smiled back, "Of course! I'll bring the tea and join you."
You spent your break with the young man, and the following remainder of the shift passed with ease. At some point, Zhongli had disappeared- had he gotten upset? Most likely not, such a small matter was far from enough to garner his irritation. It was more likely that work had called for his presence. Maybe he'd notice shop owners taking down their holiday wares on his walk and remember his oversight.
You hung up your apron, bidding the staff goodnight before descending the stairs to head home. Someone was standing at the entrance to a darker alley, one tucked away from the streetlights and the watchful eyes of the Millelith. Quickening your pace, you were about to pass by when a voice, his voice, stopped you in your tracks.
"My dear, won't you tell me what has drawn your ire?" Zhongli stepped forward, his confused expression revealing his failure to decipher the issue alone. "I am unaware of any shortcoming, but I assure you it was far from intentional-"
"..."
He walked closer, "Pardon?" You looked up at him, hoping you didn't look pathetically sad. "It was Valentine's Day, the day you left for that trip with the Traveler. That's why I had invited you over." His face fell, his immediate regret making it nigh impossible to retain your frustration. "I will not make any excuses, beloved, it was entirely my fault that we could not celebrate such a wonderful day together-"
"It was, yes."
"-and I believe I grasp the value of celebrating love with a romantic partner, so while it won't compare, please join me for dinner tomorrow, where I can properly demonstrate my affections. I recall you liking when I cook, and surely such a thing is enjoyable together."
You pretended to consider the matter, before laughing and accepting his outstretched hand. "I would love to join you, and I hope I may occupy your time through the night as well." You saw his gaze sharpen for a moment before he swept you off your feet and into his arms.
"If I didn't know any better, my love, I'd think you were trying to tempt me."
"Whatever gave you that idea, darling?"
Without setting you down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I believe you wouldn't protest to spending tonight together, as well?" You could feel the laughter rumbling through his chest, could see the smile splitting his face even with your face hidden behind your hands from the embarrassment. "My most adorable lover, I shall never again miss an opportunity to exhibit the extent of my affection for you."
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coquettexnightz · 2 months
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| Innocent Enemy |
Finn Shelby X Oswald Mosleys daughter!Reader
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( WARNING: 18+ content, Raw sex, loss of virginity, breeding kink, enemies to lovers, innocent! Reader, mean! Finn, exhibition kink, cream-pie, getting caught, superiority complex, barely a hint of Michael Gray, etc. )
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Finn only hated the girl because he was told to. She was barely younger than him, only by a couple of months, but she was Oswald Mosleys daughter. So, she was not exactly an enemy in public. She was more of a foe, especially when she was catching on to Tommy Shelby’s plan.
But despite his hate for her, he grew jealous as he watched his cousin, Michael Gray, trap her in a corner with a smirk on his face. He curled a piece of her hair around his finger, blowing his cigarette smoke above her head.
She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, because Michael Gray was undeniably good looking. But there was two problems. One, he was married. And two? Well, Y/n hated to admit it…but she was sweet on Finn Shelby, the youngest Shelby brother. Her favorite. Even if he acted like he hated her.
But where did it all start? Well—
Finn had come into his brothers house late, drunk. Not noticing that Tommy was currently in a tense meeting with Sir Oswald Mosley.
Fortunately, he didn’t bother them at all. Only— Mosley’s teenage daughter. Who was sitting on the couch, one leg propped up on the couch, her knee pressed against her chest. Her heels long gone to wherever she had kicked them.
Finn stood in the doorway, leaning on it as he stared at her in silence. Her head was laid onto the head of the choice, making Finn want to walk up and wrap his hand around her thin throat.
Y/n was extremely tired, she had been waiting almost an hour for her dear father to end the meeting. She only came because she believed it would be quick, as all of his other meetings with the Shelby’s typically were.
Now, this particular occurrence was before the attempted assassination on Sir Mosley.
“Tired?” Finn spoke up with a smirk, sticking his hands in his pockets. Y/n slowly looked forward, taking her head off of the couch. She simply stared at him, her hair slightly falling into her tired, pouty face. “It ain’t safe to fall asleep here…y’never know what someone may do to someone like you.” Finn spoke mischievously.
Y/n sighed tiredly, rubbing her face gently. She dropped her leg back down onto the couch, her legs parting, “Someone like me? Is that supposed to be an insult, Mr. Shelby?” She mumbled, her eyes closed as she dropped her head back onto the couch. “I do believe I am quite the good girl. My Daddy says so many times per day.” She hummed with her eyes remaining closed.
This particular act had shown Finn that she was not afraid of him, which made him angry. He clenched his jaw and began making quick but quiet strides over to her. Why do his brothers get to have all of the fun? He thought.
Y/n had yet to notice him, only opening her eyes out of shock when he forced his knee in between her thighs. “Hey!—,” She began, almost catching the attention of her father who was just in the other room.
But Finn lunged forward, too drunk for his own good as he gently but firmly gripped her jaw and tilting her head upward to stare into his darkened eyes. “Yer cute…acting as if you aren’t afraid of me.” Finn laughed bitterly.
She pouted, “I’m not.” She replied with no hesitation.
Finn breathed outward deeply from his nose, “I could shoot you right now, I could do anything I see fit to you. You’re just a small, little…spoiled posh girl.”
Y/n brought her smaller hand up to hold softly onto Finns wrist, “So are you. We’re the same.” She whispered sweetly. “We are both children of God, are we not?” She spoke so innocently, making Finn bite his lip and loll his neck.
And that was their first impressions on each other.
Now, they were once again at Tommy’s house. Michael only being there for the meeting with Tommy, Arthur, and Oswald Mosley.
Oswald had picked Y/n up from her Catholic private school just fifteen minutes before their arrival. Her uniform had long dried by then but her hair was still damp and lying in her face.
Making her more attractive as she stared nervously up at Michael through her eyelashes. Michael glanced over his shoulder and sent Finn a smirk, causing the younger boy to come storming over.
Michael at least expected for his cousin to say something, but Finn only slid his hand through the small gap in between their bodies and grabbed Y/n’s wrist.
Y/n made no attempt to pull away from Finn, simply letting him drag her down the halls and up the stairs of Tommy’s manor. She didn’t even question him as he pulled her into a bedroom, but not just any bedroom. Tommy’s bedroom.
Finn didn’t bother to lock the door, dragging her toward the bed and giving her a gentle shove. She fell on her butt, onto the edge of the bed. She stared at up Finn blankly, her hands conveniently placed perfectly in her lap.
Meanwhile, Finn knew nothing of Personal space, standing so, very close to Y/n. So close that his crotch was almost in her face, but if the seemingly innocent girl had noticed, she sure hadn’t made any indication that she did.
“Yes, Finn?” Her voice came out so softly that Finn couldn’t resist the urge to pick her up and toss her higher onto the bed.
She yelped in surprise as he did just that, Finn crawling toward her. Subconsciously, she spread her legs for him, making him smirk. “Mm…Already so obedient, eh?” He teased, placing his hands on her knees.
Y/n remained silent, staring up at him with doe eyes as he slowly slid his hands down the soft skin of her legs until he reached her ankles.
Finn placed his legs on her own, keeping her pinned down onto the bed by her lower half. Finn took it upon himself to grab the hem of her dark, plaid school skirt and slide it up her legs. Revealing a short, ruffly under skirt, matching with white garters that had a bow on the back of each.
Finn groaned, “You wear this to school?” He wondered, leaning down and rubbing his nose softly against the sensitive skin of her neck.
Y/n shivered slightly, nodding with a pout, “Daddy bought a whole set of ‘em for me.” She mumbled, embarrassed.
“Course’ he did.” Finn chuckled in response. “I hate to say it but— it’s time to take them off for the day.” He spoke huskily, his fingers working to unbuckle the garters.
Once he had successfully done so, he ever so slowly rolled each sheer sock like tights down her legs. Throwing each across the room before moving his hands up to the hem of her skirt. He held in a laugh when he realized the zipper was on the back.
He gave her no warning, lifting his body weight off of her before speedily flipping her onto her stomach. He stood on his knees, quickly unzipping her skirt and pulling it down her butt, along with her cotton panties.
“Fuck, can already see how soaking you are, Love.” Finn licked his lips, placing one hand on the small of her back, slipping his hand into her light pinkish white blouse.
“Finny?” Y/n breathed out, resting her cheek on her crossed arms. Finn only hummed in response, moving to flip her over for the last time in order to unbutton her thin blouse. “I am a virgin.”
Finn looked into her eyes, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. “I’ve known.” He informed her lowly as he unbuttoned each button leisurely. His free hand running through her now dry, soft hair.
Once the two teens were fully undressed, lying together as if they were a puzzle, Finn promised himself that he would make Y/n cry. If she had yet to be afraid of him, then he’d use his power in this situation to make her cry and beg. That way, he could imagine that she was practically terrified of him.
“So much for being Daddy’s good little girl, right? Now? You’re my little girl.” Finn whispered contently as he sucked and licked her neck. Y/n let out a moan as Finn grabbed his cock, rubbing his tip in between her sticky, virgin folds. “I’ve never ‘ad a virgin.” Finn mumbled against her swollen and bitten lips. “S’gonna hurt.”
But he gave her no time to process this, very slowly pushing in, inch by inch. A sly grin was plastered on his face as she began whimpering in pain, her eyes tearing up. “Finn, it hurts.” She began to cry, leaning up off of the mattress, sliding her arms around his neck.
“I told you it would, Silly girl.” He teased quietly, his eyes slightly rolling back as he bottomed out. “Fuck.” He tried his damndest to stay in place, but as Y/n wriggled below him, he wanted so badly to slam into her repeatedly.
Y/n gasped, “Move, move. Please, Finn.” She spoke desperately all of a sudden, catching Finn off guard.
Finn didn’t need to be told twice, slowly pulling out, looking down to be met with his blood coated cock. He gripped the fat of her hips as he thrusted into her tight, hot walls. “You’re so tight. But so dirty, letting Daddy fuck you in a gangsters bed.” Finn chuckled, Y/n crying out and trying her best to pull him closer to her.
“M’sorry— just…please? Please go faster?” She begged hopelessly, her hand moving up to his hair.
Finn did just that, his hips slamming into hers. If anyone were to stand outside of the room, they’d hear the mutual moans and cries from both parties, along with the wet squelching and slapping of skin.
It was so lewd. So nasty. So risky. How could she lose her cherished virginity to a Peaky Blinder Gypsy and let her maidenhead blood bleed out onto the white sheets of the boss’ bed.
Y/n knew it was a sin, but she couldn’t help it. It felt too good as Finn slammed into her. Finn let out a louder, deeper moan, still thrusting in but slightly slower now as his hands flew down to Y/n’s plush thighs. He gripped them, practically throwing her legs around his waist.
Due to the lack of stability, Y/n’s body was sliding up and down the bed.
“Feels s’good!” Y/n cried out, accompanied by Finns even louder and careless moans. Neither seemed to realize that everyone in the house could hear them from all the way upstairs.
“Yeah?” Finn softly spoke. “It’d feel even better if I came deep, deep into your little tummy. Filling you with Shelby babies? Gypsy babies. Would you like that?” Finn cooed, sliding his hand under her body. His hand splayed out on the middle of her back, pulling her upward so that they could be chest to chest as the two grew closer and closer.
“Yes, yes.” Y/n nodded blissfully, not even understanding what was going on. “Fill me, Finny.”
“Oh, I will. Then when you swell up with my baby, you’ll have to marry me. No matter what happens.” Finn grinned widely, cutting himself off with an unexpected groan as Y/n clenched on him. “She’s practically sucking me in, Love. Just asking to be fed.”
As they neared, so did Mosley and Tommy. Curious as to where the yells and cries were coming from.
Y/n wrapped her arms tightly around Finns neck as he slowed his pace. He slowly pushed in and out of her, one arm wrapped around her back, his other free hand cradling her head in order to keep in the crook of his neck.
“I can feel how close you are, just let it go. Then I will too, and you’ll be full to the brim with my babies.” Finn whispered, placing endless kisses to the side of her head, rubbing the back of her head with his thumb.
Y/n nodded, her jaw slack as she rested her almost limp head on Finn’s.
Finn sped up in his last few seconds worth of thrusts. And just as both teens felt their climax come flying forward, the bedroom door flew open. For Mosley had thought that someone was hurting his sweet little girl, judging by the cries that were heard from just outside the door.
But as him and Tommy stopped midway through the room, their eyes landed on Finn and Y/n. Bare naked, not even bothering to cover up with the sheets as they fucked.
The two noticed the older men immediately, and despite their embarrassment, Finn couldn’t seem to stop his hips from moving. Riding out their highs as tears flowed down Y/n’s cheeks. Finn focusing on pushing his cum deep into her womb.
“Well…it seems as if we may need to arrange a ceremony?” Mosley began with a smirk as the teens settled down. Tommy glared at Mosley for a short second, making the man shrug. “What? I can’t let people think my daughter’s innocence was taken before her wedding night.” Mosley snickered happily.
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vacayisland · 5 months
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Id be so happy if u could write some Branch x reader!! I love when he acts apathetic or like he doesn’t care but in the end will always end up helping the people he cares for. And has a weakness for the one he loves. Secretly insecure but loves looking for ways to impress them.
I dont have anything in particular to ask for, just would love to see some more branch x reader content!
@!; Bakin' with Love! Branch / Baker! Reader
"Summary"! In which Branch met Poppy's baker friend at the grand opening of their bakery and has a self realizing moment. "Tags!" Fluff :( I love Branch so much, he deserves so much better.
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@!; "Oh come on Branch!" Branch was, reluctantly, following Poppy across Troll Village; Well, in fact, he was being more tugged along than anything, as Poppy was basically trying to sprint while Branch did his best to keep up, despite being unamused at the lack of explanation he has received. It was, usually, never a good thing when Poppy was dragging him off to some unknown direction. Branch has learnt that from experience, "Poppy! Where are we even going?" And that seemed to get Poppy to stop, digging her feet into the ground as she spun around to look at Branch. Which set him off, coiling away a little as he took in the shocked, jaw-dropping, exaggerated look Poppy held. Did he forget a holiday, an anniversary, a birthday? Branch didn't know, nor did he know of anything special happening on this specific day. There wasn't anything in his colander, which spans the next few years. He hasn't heard anything by mouth of other Trolls, which were always excited to word vomit about anything that might be happening the next day. So Branch only shrugged when Poppy asked, waving her arms around to emphasis her question, "Branch! Do you not know what today it?"
Which seemed to make Poppy ever so more shocked, which was slightly amusing. Though Branch also knew in the next 5 seconds Poppy was going to explode and basically word vomit what was happening to him; in an over-the-top way that he had to learn how to listen to. More like how to break down and make sense of, because sometimes Poppy made no sense when she just pukes words. "Branch!! Troll village is finally getting a Bakery and one of my very, very good friends is opening it! It's the same person who usually makes the cupcakes or cakes or baked good for any of the parties we have thrown recently. They're an amazing baker and it's always been their dream to open a bakery! I cannot believe you haven't heard about this, it's all everyone has been talking about." And there Poppy went, right on time, waving her arms and yelling with the most excited tone in her voice. "A bakery?" Though that wasn't the answer Branch had expected, and he couldn't help but cross his arms and cock an eyebrow up at Poppy. "You're dragging me across the village for a bakery?" "Not just ANY bakery Branch! This is the a bakery by the best baker in the village!" Branch snickered a little at Poppy's excitement, the way she bounced on his toes. He rolled his eyes, knowing and expecting, Poppy to grab his wrist again so they could b-line it for the bakery. "And she's opening today and we cannot miss getting her double fudge, triple chocolate, licorice cupcakes! Oh, oh! Oh her glitter ball cupcakes or- OR ANYTHING!" And Branch, again, was right as Poppy grabbed his wrist and began to rush over to the other side of the village; dragging Branch over to a little half-stand and pod-like building on the ground. There was already a crowd formed around the entrance and inside, with other Trolls sitting around and eating baked goods they had gotten. Branch watched the trolls and their desserts, noticing a wide arrange of different pastries. Some on the more simple side and others more complex, such as cupcakes, brownies, cakes, bread, croissants, and even chocolate souffle. Now that made Branch do a double take, not having expected such a high-skilled dessert coming out from a bakery that just opened. "AH! Branch, this is so exciting!" Poppy was basically jumping up and down on her toes, grinning from ear to ear. And she wasn't the only one who shared the excitement. As Viva, who seemed to come out of no where, popped up besides Poppy with the widest grin. Branch had to coil back a bit, scrunching his nose, as Viva squealed along side Poppy, "I KNOW RIGHT!" "Hey, this is different!" Floyd, with Clay in tow, walked over to Branch, Viva, and Poppy; seeming to have been following Viva before she rushed off to her sister. "It's a bakery," Branch couldn't help but shrug as the line moved forward. "So many trolls can bake, or poop out baked goods. I don't really see the fuss about it." "Well, one it's actually the first bakery we have in the village-" Floyd would start, hoping he could get his brother to understand the excitement a little better. Yet Floyd was cut off by Clay, though he didn't mind much, "And I've heard that their baking is like, THE best in all of Pop Troll village! Viva came back with a dozen of their cookies one time, I had to physically restrain myself from eating them all!" "Oh, great." Clay tilted his head at Branch's sarcasm. "You know anything anyone eats here is sweets, right? I mean it can't be that healthy." The group would reach the front of the line as Branch crossed his arms and shook his head, wondering why the village would need another output to feed such an addiction. Yet, he was only met with a hand on his shoulder from Floyd as Clay rushed forward to order alongside Poppy and Viva.
"Just be happy for everyone else, yeah?" And Branch softened a little, seeing Floyd's small smile and sincere eyes. His hard stance broke as Branch relaxed his shoulders for a moment before he shrugged softly and nodded in agreement. "Alright, yeah, okay." Branch mumbled, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Floyd and a slightly bigger smile before he turned to go order. Branch decided to hang back for a bit before he followed, standing next to Floyd as he watched Poppy and Viva basically drool over the confections behind the display case. They chattered and debated which sweets they should get, and whether or not they should just buy one of everything; which Clay was trying to disagree to, claiming it was a waste of money, yet it was obvious he also couldn't choose what to get. Floyd was the first to notice when Branch walked around behind everyone to stand behind Poppy and Viva to look into the display stand. He noticed there was some steam that rose from products, which he guessed where more fresh than others; though he could also deduct that they were all baked between yesterday and today seeing as the scent of everything was so fresh. "I think, for the most bang for your buck, you should get some of the cookies that are slowly crumbling or the ones under steam." Branch pointed out from behind the sister, which caused them to pause and glance over at him. Both confused yet intrigued at his answer. Poppy placed her hands on her hips, giving Branch a challenging look, "Branch! I didn't know you knew sweets!" Branch only shrugged, "Well, the ones still steaming are likely the freshest, and the ones slowly crumbling have a desirable texture of a soft cookie. They're stiff enough on the outside to hold their shape but soft on the inside where they're slowly breaking, a nice balance." "And here I thought you were a crunchy cookie type of man." Viva added, pointing up and down at Branch. Yet they couldn't speak for long, as the back door of the bakery, which separated the kitchen from the front floor, swung open and a Troll carrying a cooling rack of sweets rushed in. They apologized for the wait, not taking a moment to look up, before they opened the display case and slid in the hot batch of cookies. When they finally looked up to greet everyone with a, "Hello! Welcome to Pop's Cookies, my name is (Y/N), how may I help you?" They stopped mid-sentence upon seeing Poppy and Viva, in which the three would share an excited squeal. "Oh my god Poppy! Viva! Hello you two." You exclaimed from behind the counter, moving around the display case and towards the register. Poppy and Viva would follow, "What are you doing here?! I thought I told you two that you didn't have to come!" "Did you really think we wouldn't come to support you?" Poppy quipped as Branch noticed the gleam in your eye. For some reason it made him pause and stare, so much so he didn't realize his brothers coming to stand near him. Floyd softly spoke to Clay about getting a strawberry shortcake brownie slice as Clay tried pitching that he was going to get an almond-cherry explosion cookie. Though they both knew that Clay would much prefer a cherry-lime cheesecake, yet was trying to keep up his 'professional' attituded. "Oh! (Y/N), have you meet Branch?" Poppy's voice pulled Branch out from his thoughts, causing him to blink and shake his head a little. That's when he noticed all eyes being on him. Well this was awkward... and he had to save it. "Hey!" Branch waved his hand once, giving you the only type of smile he could muster on such a short notice. In which, he could tell was a little odd and off, seeing as Poppy and Viva started at him a overly questioning look. While you, you stared at him with a quizzical look; Tilting your head to the side, as you stared at him like you were trying to read the very structure of his being. It was off putting how he felt like you could see right through him and at the same time see him. Branch glanced at Poppy for some sort of help, but she gave him a nervous smile and waved him off.
Branch tried to gulp back his nerves, wondering if he was being tested on his reaction or if you were simply judging him for not being as excited as everyone else about your bakery. It's not like he didn't support it or anything, he just wasn't the overly outward excited type and he hoped someone would explain that. And Branch saw Floyd glance over, seeming ready to say something or hopefully stand up for him. Yet he didn't seem to have to after a big grin grew on your face, "Say, Branch, you look like a soft double chocolate chip cookie with a fudge center type of guy to me! Would you like one? "Oh- uh- sure!" Branch answered with a small smile, somehow feeling rather relaxed despite his earlier anxieties. Though he did notice the shocked look from the others, you didn't seem shocked or disturbed he had agreed. In fact you seemed proud, for whatever reason, as you quickly grabbed a bag, fluffed it open, grabbed a wax paper and opened the case. You mulled over which cookie to select for a moment before taking the one you deemed as 'perfect' and began to bag it. "Braanch!" This is when Poppy spoke up, "You like double chocolate with a fudge center? How come you never told me!" And to that, Branch only shrugged his shoulders once more, "You never asked, Poppy." Branch explained as he walked over to the counter and accepted the bagged cookie. Later, when everyone had ordered and they decided to take a seat inside, Branch took out his cookie and couldn't help but look at it for a moment. Everyone around him was laughing and talking, eating their sweets at the same time, and he couldn't help but feel oddly seen. And by a complete Troll never the less. Usually people assumed he would like hard cookies, or the boring almond and nuts. Usually people assumed a lot about him because he was so different, and despite your slightly unsettling stare you had correctly guessed one of his favorite cookies. One he didn't even realize you had baked every time Poppy brought a dozen over to his bunker. So then that brought up another question in Branch. Did you just correctly guess his favorite cookie or did you remember it from the countless times Poppy (most likely) told you. Either way, why and how? That's probably what confused Branch the most. It's what made him turn around in his seat and look at you, watching as you served another costumer. A chipper smile on your face and an excited gleam in your eye. You weren't doing that guessing game or glare to anyone else. . . was he somehow special? Nah, probably not. But it did make him think as he took a bite into the cookie you had given him. Maybe he should come back tomorrow and talk to you about it. Yeah talk to you about the incident and for nothing else. Just clear up the air and all. Yeah... and maybe get another cookie.
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.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which you are jungkook’s religion and he wants to be your passenger princess.
> fluff / wc: 3k
> warnings: there’s like a three second earthworm cameo lol, jk is living his best life in this bicycle date <3
note: i loved writing this + it reminded me of this drabble i suggest reading it too :( pls tell jk to stop being so cute my heart can’t handle it :( oh and imagine the current jungkook with his long hair and pretty bangs btw <3 reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated :]
“hmm?” you hum in question when jungkook’s tattooed hand pushes up your elbow. the book you’ve been reading uncovers his head lying on your lap, acting as a paperweight for the pastel yellow summer dress adorning your figure.
“humor me, okay?”
in the midst of his pensive facade, his lips are curved into a lazy smile, almost undetectable if only you aren’t so close that you can vividly see the scar on his cheek and the texture of his honey skin. his face is a little puffy and his eyes are hazy, adorably so, courtesy of the nap he woke up from ten minutes ago.
there are scattered speckles of sunlight painted all over the two of you, in the shape of the gaps between the leaves of the tall tree supporting your back. the wind gently blows through his hair and the edges of the blue gingham picnic blanket spread out beneath you, as if the earth is sighing dreamily at the han riverside scenery.
“would you still love me if i became a worm?”
“what?”
you cover the lower half of your face with the book when a snort bluntly escapes you, and uncontrollable giggles racking your body follow soon after. they prompt the thin strap of your dress to fall off the curve of your right shoulder, and your boyfriend swiftly swoops in, slipping his index finger through it to put it back into position.
“would you still love me if i became a worm?!” he repeats the question louder in faux irritation, but he can’t conceal a toothy grin because your laughter is contagious, a melody that brings him unfathomable joy. an echo that will remind him he was once here, with you, a moment in time locked away in the palace of his most precious memories.
he grasps your wrists to his chest to confront you, and you completely lose your weakened grip on the book. unshed tears gather at the corners of your eyes as your laughter refuses to cease.
“listen- you’re cute, but i need to take the internet away from you.”
his doe eyes grow rounder, whiny voice with a lisp tugging at your heartstrings because you never not find every little thing about him painfully endearing. “baby, stop avoiding the topic. i demand honest answers!”
“of course i would! love doesn’t go away that easily!” you yield to his stubborn need to pry the answers from you. “but it depends on my mood that day, and maybe how you even became a worm in the first place? uh, i’d build you a garden and a little house. oh! and even crochet some cute little outfits for you according to the seasons, keep you warm and safe so you don’t have to hide in the soil . . .”
it’s true that you’ve been dipping your toes into crocheting nowadays, one of your works in progress being a sweater for bam in early preparation for this year’s winter. however, the stars in his eyes ignited by your sweet rambling transform into a dull glimmer of disappointment when he hears the horrifying continuation of your sentence.
“or if it’s a beauty and the beast situation and you got cursed for being bad, then i’d put you in a bucket and go fishing.”
he abruptly sits up, sending your book tumbling down on his lap and . . . you lose your page number just like that.
“fishing? fishing?! isn’t that too harsh? what happened to for better or for worse?” dumbfounded, he frantically shakes his head. “what are you going to say when bam goes looking for his daddy?!”
you tilt your head to the side, highly amused at the man who turned out to only want a sweet response from you despite spitting out the question in a joking manner.
you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. “that you went fishing?”
he pouts somberly, staring into the far distance, where the blue sky stretches endlessly. “bro, you’d expect to know somebody because you live with them and you raise a dog together.”
he heaves a dramatic sigh as he raises both arms to push his hair back, long fingers smoothly gliding across the dark locks. the sleeves of his oversized black t-shirt bunch around his shoulders to reveal more of the tattoos covering the entirety of his right arm, but then his bangs fall back into place like dominoes, and he does it all over again.
“oh, my baby. come on.” you inch closer to hug his waist, planting a kiss on his cheek before leaning your chin on his shoulder. “you’re really just going to ignore the garden and crochet part?”
he overtly ignores your words with a scoff, but he puts a hand over your interlocked ones so he won’t slip out of your embrace as he reaches out for a stick among the lush green grass. your loud gasp beside his ear makes him snicker as he scoops up the earthworm that has crawled dangerously close to his white and washed denim nike air jordans. aside from the cover of ‘the seven husbands of evelyn hugo’ hovering above his face, he was also greeted by this unwordly creature when he woke up from his nap. still sluggish as his body and brain gradually recovered to their full functions, he quietly watched it crawl around the spacious picnic blanket, half out of his mind. well, that was until he got bored.
“go- you need to go. get away from here and travel far where you won’t be found. you’re not safe in this place!” he cries out with his roleplay mode turned on, garnering a weird look from a passerby.
“that’s not far away. at all.” you remark teasingly as he gently sets it down behind the tree, less than two feet away.
“i only showed it a new direction. it can manage on its own. the lessons in life are sprinkled along the treacherous journey.” he scrunches his nose as he chuckles, placing back the stick exactly where he found it. “okay, i’m awake! let’s go ride a bike now!”
“i’m already on chapter 40, though.” you sadly mumble to yourself, having enjoyed the inner peace that enveloped you a while ago, when you finally overcame your month-long reading slump with the meditative aid of nature’s generous spring.
your arms automatically drop down to your sides when he energetically springs up in excitement. he picks up the handwoven picnic basket, opening one of the lids and pushing aside the emptied lunch boxes to safely tuck your book inside.
“baaabe, move.”
“huh?” he makes a noise of confusion when he feels the fabric get tugged underneath his feet. “oh- right, wait.”
he walks backwards at your command, allowing you to remove the rest of the picnic blanket off the grass. he patiently waits as you fold it into half, and half, and half, until it becomes small enough to fit in the basket he’s holding open.
he’s been unable to keep his eyes off you since this morning— glancing, looking, admiring your facial features and the way your eyebrows furrow in the slightest when you’re focused on a task (he doesn’t think you know this at all); down to your neck, and your chest exposed by the low square neckline of your dress. you were pouting in the car because you forgot to wear a necklace, exclaiming ‘i knew i forgot something!’ but he thinks your bare skin under the sunlight is priceless compared to gold. he loves your legs in shorts, dresses, skirts; hell, his boxers— loves how you carry yourself with grace and finesse wherever you go. past the walls he built around his heart, didn’t have to make them crumble because you are the key.
his lips have touched every inch of your body a couple million times that it has become more of a religion, putting mere familiarity into shame.
he puts down the basket on the grass after you slip the blanket inside, whispering a tender “baby, come here,” as he guides you towards the tree, pinning your back on it.
“why?” you gape at him in curiosity, hands grasping at his hips because you unconsciously trust jungkook to keep you steady more than a tree deeply rooted in the earth.
“the straps won’t stop falling off. i’ll fix it.” now that he’s speaking in a hushed tone, you can hear the roughness around the edges of his voice caused by sleep.
he deliberately towers over you to shield you from strangers’ eyes, pulling at the strings wrapped around your right shoulder to undo the ribbon sitting on top of it. he maintains a secure grip, wary of the neckline of your dress sliding further down as he makes a knot, and then another to finish off the ribbon.
you gaze at him lovingly, an affectionate smile lighting up your face. sometimes you forget how attentive your boyfriend is. you confess that you meant to tie the straps a little loosely, but you didn’t intend for them to fall off so often.
“thank you.”
he responds to your lively chirp with a kiss on the lips, your mixed berries flavored lip balm staining his. his tongue instantaneously darts out to give it a taste, the mole under his bottom lip making an appearance as he separates the straps of your tote bag from the second pair of strings.
the wind blows once more, three times stronger than the last, and jungkook tightly twists the strings around his two longest fingers as he waits for it to pass. you squeeze your eyes shut, forehead colliding with his chest to hide from the dust that could potentially blind you.
the wind eases, and he clicks his tongue as he continues fixing your dress, repeating the same steps with thoughtful precision. the back of his hands graze your skin every now and then, soft and smooth from the skincare products he smears on them to apply to his face.
“ah, this is insane. good thing we already had lunch before it got this windy.”
“i kind of love it. the earth feels so alive.”
your breath hitches when he ducks down to press a chaste kiss on where your neck and shoulder meet. the warmth of his lips contrasts the coldness of the ring pierced at the corner of his mouth. the intimate sound chimes in your ear, the sensation sending tingles to your lower abdomen.
“mhmm, know you do. you always see the good in things.” in me, the words he wants to add hang unbalanced on the tip of his tongue.
by the time you decide that you want to rent an electric scooter instead of a bicycle, jungkook is already paddling towards you while wheeling one by his side.
he enthusiastically shouts, “let me be the passenger princess today!”
and a wave of flashbacks from two years ago wash over you as he draws nearer— when he poured his blood, sweat, and tears into eight tortorous days of teaching you how to ride a bicycle because you forgot how to. you’d expect him to take that as a very telling sign not to ride one with you, but the man standing infront of you seems enraptured by the idea alone.
“sure, but give me a kiss first.” you bat your eyelashes coyly, and he doesn’t waste time in granting your request. he pulls your face closer by the back of your neck, lips crashing against yours for a kiss that robs the air from your lungs. and what a heavenly way to die.
“happy? or more?” he raises an eyebrow flirtatiously.
“greedy boy.” you scold him, lightly pushing his cheek to the opposite direction, and he dryly chuckles at your choice of words. fuck, you know him too well.
“you carry this, love.” you transfer the basket hanging on your forearm to his tattooed one, and your thumb briefly skims across the indents on your skin left by the pattern of the handles.
“i thought you wanted to ride one yourself, though?”
“changed my mind when i saw there’s a backseat.” he sticks out his tongue playfully, laying hold of your tote bag and putting it in the basket between the handles infront.
you roll your eyes as you climb on the seat, putting one foot on the pedal and anchoring the other on the asphalt road. you release a heavy sigh. “made myself all pretty today not knowing i’ll end up sweaty and gross.”
“aish! my butt! it hurts!” his moans and grunts of pain are accompanied by cackles as he shifts on the metal seat behind you. once he deems himself comfortable enough, he wraps his arms around your waist for . . . hopefully, obvious safety reasons. “damn, okay. there we go. i’m ready. sweep me off my feet, baby.”
you swat his hand lightly. “be careful what you wish for.”
“you’re cute when you try to be mean.” he squeezes your sides as an alternative for your cheeks.
“aren’t you scared that i might drive us off into the river? not even a little bit?!”
instead of pressuring you into not making an uncalculated mistake, he simply says “so what? i can swim.”
“shit, shit, shit! i feel like i’m falling! b-babe- are you doing this on purpose now?!” jungkook erupts into another fit of childlike giggles and high-pitched squeals as you glide across a curve and the bicycle tilts slightly to the side. your hips occassionally rises from the seat so you can push down at the pedals with more effort, spurring moments of him loosely clinging to you.
“maybe? you enjoy stuff like this!” you grin mischievously to yourself.
his long legs are starting to feel sore from having to keep them lifted off the ground, but this is infinitely better than putting them on either side of the bicycle and risking the possibility of getting his balls smushed. besides, he is enamored by the fact that he is face-to-face with the perfect view of the dancing trees, the babbling river, and the bustling city life on the opposite side.
he taps the circle button on his phone screen to end the panorama, swiping to the left to switch to a video. he allows the camera to capture the rest of the beautiful scenery before flipping it to the front.
“i’m having so much fun! i’m never sitting at the front of the bike again- never!�� he yells at the reflection of himself, hair covering almost his entire face. the sight makes him laugh heartily. “ay, i look ridiculous with the wind slapping my face. fuck, what is this? my hair- it’s driving me crazy-”
he aggressively shakes his head to get them out of the way, regretting not tying up his hair before you took off.
“then what about me?! i’m fighting against it!” you yell back, squinted eyes persevering the ruthless gusts of wind. the only difference is that you can feel it sweeping through your hair, through your dress, as if you’re soaring and you’re free, not running away but heading somewhere.
“but you’re going to enjoy it when we go back and it’s behind you! trust me!”
this is the first time jungkook is the bicycle passenger since god knows when. he doesn’t remember it being this marvelous, thrilling in its most wholesome form. meanwhile, this is the first time you’re riding a bicycle with a passenger. perhaps you made the same mistake you kept on making two years ago: kicking your feet as if you’re in a race, thinking speed equals to balance. he had to remind you to calm down, slow down, stop looking down all over again. that was at the first minute. your anxieties have been long gone, quelled by your boyfriend’s sheer delight radiating for miles and miles. his happiness is a bubble expanding in size as the wind blows relentlessly.
his phone is returned to the confines of his deep pocket after he deems himself satisfied with the memories he recorded in the device. he properly hugs your waist again, resting his head on the expanse of your back, thin cotton against the apple of his cheek. his heavy eyelids flutter shut. he breathes in, chest rising and pushing against the tough handles of the basket hanging pretty on his forearm, and he breathes out. with his sense of sight idle, it almost feels like you’re flying him to outer space.
“jungkook, you better not fall asleep there. i’m serious.” you sternly remind him, panic meter going up when you notice more of his weight gradually limping against yours.
“yah! you- i love you; i won’t do that to you. don’t be scared.” he chuckles, heart swelling with fondness for the concern lacing your voice.
you melt at his charming reassurance. “i love you too.”
“nyam.”
“did you just bite me?” you whip your head to the back in suspicion when you feel a faint sting blossoming on your shoulder.
he innocently looks at the bite mark he left on your skin, and when he tilts up his chin to catch a glimpse of your face, your eyes have already refocused on the bicycle path. ”i did . . . you taste like what i imagine the sunshine would taste.”
“is that a good thing?”
“yeah, good. like honey.”
“thank my body wash for that.” you giggle, and jungkook yearns to see your face, but he shall marvel at the rows of pink and white flowers approaching ahead in the meantime.
“no, that’s not it.” a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he corrects you in a voice so soft it almost breaks. “it’s you. just you.”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added or removed :D
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lavenderrmidnightss · 4 months
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Safe and Sound - Billy the Kid
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Billy the Kid (tom blyth) x fem!reader 
Summary: While walking home one evening from the inn, a man comes across you and attempts to attack you. You are saved by Billy and he begins to grow very protective over you, right from the start.
Warnings: Attempted SA (not successful), cursing
Word Count: 1.9k
PART 2 IS HERE
The walk home felt like a near impossible task despite the reality of it being less than a mile walk. Working at the local inn was not lightwork as some may think. Taking care of others can be exhausting when you have so little to pour out of your cup. The sky’s hues were transitioning from its cerulean blue into shades of purples and pinks. Your eyes were trained on the varying colors that dared to come out as the day shifted into evening. The sunset resembled a masterpiece brushed on a canvas by a renowned artist. With each step, your eyes never failed to tear away from the beauty above you. Each step you took filled the air with echoes of crunching due to the diminutive pieces of gravel hidden in the dirt. Hard to see, but easy to feel through the sole of your shoe. Your commute home seemed to be working as a medium of decompressing until sudden movement out of your peripheral vision stole your attention. You caught a glimpse of a man stumbling towards you. Your instinct to move quickly kicked in, but you knew better. Acting afraid would only entice the man more. ‘Just keep your eyes forward. Just make it home,’ you thought to yourself. 
“Where’s a pretty lady like yourself headed?” a coarse voice entered the atmosphere, demanding your focus. You looked over my shoulder, looking at him. Just a couple inches above your own height, he held a gaze on you to imply his superiority. 
“And that’s your business, how?” you inquire, daring to stop in your tracks and face him. His complexion smeared with ash and hair slicked with sweat, your wonderings of who he was and why he was approaching you intensified. 
The man’s eyebrow’s furrowed, accentuating dense lines and creases in his forehead. He made his way up to you, closing you in. “Well ya sure do got a lot of nerve, don’t ya?” He diabolically chuckled. You began to internally squirm as he noticeably began to eye you.
 “Look at you. Exhausted. Looks like you’ve been on your feet for quite some time, haven’t ya?” He interrogated, allowing himself to continue looking you over. You could only imagine what he was envisioning as his eyes fixated on your chest.
 “Look like a hardworkin’ woman. I admire that. Ya know, everybody has to earn their keep in these parts..” his voice trailed off just as his body began waltzing closer to yours, entrapping you. Your back soon crashed against a raggedy, abandoned building you weren’t even aware you were passing. It’s astonishing how much your mind evaporates when your main focus is survival. You knew where this was leading. You’ve seen so many women be taken, raped. Even some of your own friends. Men don’t view women as a treasure, but rather an accessory designed to bring them pleasure. It had become an intrusive thought; when would it happen to you? Looks like reality finally caught up with your nightmares.
His calloused hand toyed with the hem of your dress before slipping under. The rough texture of his skin clashed with the silkiness of your own. You were frozen in fear. His face now hovered in front of yours. “Bet you could be a real good worker for me, couldn’t ya?” A condescending smirk decorated his face. 
Your stomach churned. “Get off of me. Right now.” The short demands came out urgently. Your hands moved to defend yourself, preparing to shove his stocky body off yours. However, you underestimated his strength and build. He grabbed your wrists and shoved your arms above your head, pinning them there. 
“Fiesty too? They say that manifests well in the bed,” his growl echoed in your ear, his face grazing yours. “Mm, you’ll fit right in. Just be good for me, would ya? Listen to what I say and do as you're told, and you’ll be treated well.”
“Fuck off,” you spat in his face, jabbing your knee up to jolt his gut. He stumbled back, releasing you. You took the opportunity to sprint away. The world moved in slow motion. Your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough. Time resumed when you felt two hands snatching your waist, slamming you to the ground. The husky body which entrapped you before immediately went for it again, but this time, pinning you into the dirt and gravel mixture where your feet once stood. The pain you once felt radiating from the sole of your shoe, walking on the road, now pierced deeply into your back. You squirmed, trying to loosen yourself from him. It was no use. 
“Gonna be a bitch? Then I’ll take you right here for free, show you what you’re missing,” he grumbled, beginning to unbuckle his pants. Continuously trying to make your way out, no amount of thrashing would free you. Looking around you, you tried to decide if screaming for help was even worth it. Who would hear you? You were alone with this man. Your eyes darted up to the sky only to find the pastel colors which once delicately danced above you had descended into darkness. 
“P-Please, no, I’ll go with you. I’ll listen. Just, please don’t. Not here, I-” you were a stuttering mess, hoping your pleads would be enough to convince him to get off you. You squeezed your eyes shut. If you didn’t see it, maybe it would be quick and over with? Maybe it would sting less? As soon as your eyes shut, the weight of his body completely lifted off of you. You thought you were dreaming it, that it wasn’t reality. However, the sound of a heavy thud crashing to the ground, along with groaning and pounding, you were assured you were safe. 
You open your eyes to find a significantly taller man had swept in. His messy, brunette ringlets dangled in front of his sculpted face as his feet consistently and harshly came in contact with the enemy’s stomach. You weren’t one for violence, but you admitted that seeing this mystery lifesaver relentlessly pounding into this bastard was a joy. You sat up, finding a pair of sapphire eyes lighting the darkness, striking you. 
“What’re you waiting for? Go, run,” he called out to you, before putting all his attention back on the attacker. You stumbled to your feet, backing up to guard your body behind a railing. However, your eyes stayed on the match. Really, just the one who swept in to save the day. You studied him closely. 
The stocky man who had attempted to pull at the one hovering over him. You were taken aback when in quick response, zero wait time, blue eyes drew out a gun, aiming it at him. “Try that again, and it’ll be the last damn thing you do,” he growled, cocking the gun. The man on the ground shrunk by tenfold. You watched as fear washed over him, the metal rim dangling in his face. Holy shit. 
“Get up,” blue eyes demanded him, watching as he slowly stood. The demand in his voice was filled with such hatred. The man who was once so confident now trembled in fear for his life, his hands going in the air. Blue eyes kept his aim on the man before him. “Get out of this town. Far away. Let me so far as see a glimpse of you around these parts, and you’re a dead man. Got it?” The trembling man nodded shakily and quickly, sprinting off without another word.
 Suddenly, the world got quiet. Finally. You emerged from your temporary hiding place just as the man who saved your life turned to face you. “Thank you,” you managed to get out. “I-I don’t know what I would’ve done, what would’ve happened if-” A drawn out, thick accent cut you off. 
“I’m sure of what would’ve happened, and it would’ve been awful. What’re you doin’ anyway, walking around here this time of evenin’ all by yourself?” He secured his gun into its holster as he made his way over to me. His demeanor was entirely different. He radiated protection, genuinity. Minutes prior, you were trying to escape a nightmare. Now, you were being drawn in by a stranger’s kind act and handsome features. You felt safe. How refreshing. 
“I was just heading home from the inn. What’s your name?” you asked, desperate to know the name of the one who guarded you. 
“Name’s Billy. And you?” Billy. His name etched into your mind, knowing it would now hold a priority in the forefront of your thoughts. You told him your name, to which he nodded. “How about I get you home?”
With that, Billy guided you on the path back home. The gravel didn’t seem so daunting against your soles now. Under the pitch black sky adorned with stars, you had Billy to protect you. The walk to your place wasn’t filled with much conversation, but when it was, you were fascinated by his thoughts and the sound of his voice. 
Once he had successfully guided you to your destination, you noted that his eyes scanned over the place almost as if he were attempting to memorize its design and build. Billy didn’t want to leave you. He couldn’t invite himself in, couldn’t insist you to leave with him. Not after what he had just saved you from. He knew if there was a shot in hell he was going to gain your trust, he had to demonstrate he was worthy of it. 
“He didn’t hurt you, right, darlin’?” Billy’s tone was now hushed, almost as if it solidified his authenticity. Billy’s eyes were a shade you had never seen before, but a shade you would quickly find filling your dreams. Your heart admittedly flipped at the sound of the pet name rolling off his tongue so effortlessly. 
“No, he didn’t. You got there just in time. Thank you, Billy. Again. Don’t know how I could ever return the favor for what you’ve done for me.” Billy’s smile lit up the night sky, melting you from head to toe. He shook his head, shrugging. 
“No greater pleasure than protecting ya. Now, get in and get some rest.” Billy watched you disappear into your house, the screen door creaking behind you. It felt wrong to leave you so abruptly. Never before had he felt a desire to stay up long hours of the night getting to know another before, but for you, he ached to. Billy couldn’t leave you. As you went in and laid down, wondering where Billy was headed off to and if you would ever even see him again, Billy sat down on the steps of your porch. Adjusting himself, his back aligned with the post. Leaning his head back, he pushed the strands of hair out of his face. He basked in the breeze of the night, listening to the harmony of varying late night insects. He also intently listened for any potential danger, looking to protect you at all costs. Maybe it was the innocence in your voice that enticed him. Maybe it was the way your hair flowed down, the way you were unafraid to fight that enthralled him. Regardless of how it happened, Billy had an instantaneous desire to keep you out of harm’s way, no matter what it cost. As you laid in bed, you thought of Billy. As he leaned against your porch that night, he knew he was doing his job. He was keeping you safe and sound.
______________________________________________________________
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months
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Febuwhump - Day 15
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x reader
Prompt: "Who did this to you?"
Warnings: language, mentioned injury/attempted assualt
A/N: This one was inspired by @zepskies BMD verse (hope that's okay with you!)
_______
Soldier Boy POV
Y/N was avoiding me. I didn’t necessarily blame her. Being forcibly taken against your will did that. But she’d been warming up to me, hadn’t she? It’d all been an act those first few weeks of course. But I’d have bet my left nut she was starting to like me. I was even trying to see things from her point of view and acting a bit different with her. It’d been going great and I’d been less and less concerned with her trying more escape attempts.
So where hell had she been the past two days? Was she eating? Or sick? She’d have known she could ask for help from me if she was, right?
I stormed upstairs, an unpleasant coil in my gut. I easily pushed open the locked door to her bedroom, Y/N yelping and hopping up from the bed. I parted my lips to speak but I saw it. 
Dark bruises on her face. Her wrists. Arms. Fingertips had pressed hard into her soft flesh. My gut coiled again but with a fiery rage.
“Who did this to you?” I demanded. Y/N couldn’t hide her shock at my tone. It’d been a long time since I’d yelled at her. But this was important. “Y/N. Who.”
“It’s fine,” she whispered, her hand tugging on her shorts. I was on her in an instant though, pushing them back up to reveal a big bruise on her thigh. My breath hitched as my chest tightened. “Soldier Boy. It’s-”
“Who touched you,” I growled.
“No one touched me,” she snapped, glaring at me despite the wetness in her eyes. “Not like that at least.”
“Because you fought them off and got away and have been holed away in here to avoid them.” Y/N frowned but didn’t argue. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll find out for myself who it was. Stay in this room until I return for you.”
I was halfway to the door when she sighed. “Ben. What are you going to do to them?”
“No one touches you. No one.” We both ignored how possessive it sounded, her bruised knuckles rubbing one of her eyes.
“Adams,” she said quietly and I quickly walked away. “Ben-”
I left without a word, rushing downstairs, more than ready to make the son of a bitch regret ever being alive.
_________
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crazyoffher · 10 months
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LETTING YOU GO.
jenna ortega x fem!reader
summary: you let jenna go.
warnings: not proofread, unedited. angst.
word count: 1100+
a/n: small fic while i think about what to do with ‘watchtower’.
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“I don’t understand just why you want to keep me guessing!” You shouted, beyond annoyed with Jenna’s antics. Your thumbs swiped against your forehead, frustration clear on your face.
You and Jenna were in the midst of a fight. You have had enough with her—the ignoring, the yelling—she wasn’t who she once was.
“I’m sorry that I have a job! That I have a life outside of you, that I-”
“This is not about that!” You practically screamed. Jenna stepped back, clearly shocked by your yelp. You had yelled before, but not with the same amount of anger in your tone as right now.
“This is about your insufferable attitude, your ignorancy; you forget about our anniversary, for fuck’s sake! You can blame it on your jobs all you want, but I've been here with you throughout most of your career, as friend and girlfriend, and this is not just because of them.” Your hand found it’s way to your hair, pushing it back. Jenna's eyes were filled with guilt. She knew her attitude was inexcusable, and she went to reply, but you weren’t done.
“Seriously, what have I done or said to make you feel this way? You won’t ever talk to me, and I’m tired of it! I’m tired of you, Jenna.”
Your heart was breaking with every word you spoke; the pain built up in you at being ignored and feeling unloved meant that every word you thought you’d never speak came out of your mouth, more unbearably as the truth.
“I-” Jenna tried to explain herself, but her brain shut off at the thought of it. “I’m sorry,” was all she said.
“So, no explanation?” You shook your head, a heartbroken smile plastered on your face, at her audacity. “No explanation at all? Pouring my heart out to you, trying my hardest to communicate with you, and you still won’t talk to me?”
Jenna wanted to tell you everything—what she’s going through, why she’s acted like a bitch, how badly she’s wanted to just be with you—but the words were caught in her throat with no way of escaping.
“I’m sorry.” She repeated, a tear falling from her eye, stricken with emotion. She wanted to talk this through with you so badly, but her body wasn’t letting her. Her body wanted you to leave, despite her mind knowing that was the opposite of what she ever wanted to happen.
“Alright, well,” you wiped your tears away, now noticing that they fell despite your attempts to keep them at bay, “I think I’m better off alone then.”
Your words caused Jenna to perk up. Her eyes widened, and her eyebrows morphed into a frown-y expression. “What?”
“Don’t act so surprised, Jenna.” Your mouth clenched shut, and tears still fell from your eyes, but you could care less now. You had grown immensely irate with her, and in your mind, she didn’t love you anymore, so why should you care about her feelings?
“I’ve been done with you for such a long time. I don’t think even you know how long you’ve been acting this way. First you want to hate me, then you want to love me; it’s so tiring figuring out your next mood.”
“Please, (Y/N)-”
“No, Jenna.” You cut her off. “I’m letting you go because I feel that I’m not who you want.”
Breathing excessively; you didn't even realize you'd been holding your breath. Jenna shook her head, disagreeing with your words because they simply weren’t true. You were what she wanted. She woke up every day happy that she was with you and that you chose her. She didn’t know what she’d do without you. 
As you headed for the door, you felt a tug on your wrist. Jenna’s hand was on your arm. 
“Please don’t go.” You could barely hear it. You wanted to break down from the tone of her voice, whispered so low and in a crack, a word away from crying her eyes out. 
“I can’t be with someone who lives their life as if I don’t exist.”
You woke up. You wish it was actually a dream, but it wasn’t.
Sitting up, you threw the covers to the side of the bed, treading into the bathroom in your hotel room. It was the same thing every night for the past two months: reliving the memory of your breakup. Though each night the dream got shorter and less lengthy, it used to go up until you got into your car, with Jenna at your car window begging you to get out, and then it’d cut.
Turning on the light, you drowned your face in cold water to wake yourself up, afraid that if you fell back asleep, the dream would continue. Saying you missed her was an understatement, but it was for the best.
You wished that she wasn’t famous, that you wouldn’t hear her name everywhere, and that her fans wouldn’t still be sending you hate that you didn’t deserve. You wished that after Stuck In The Middle, she would’ve quit as she once planned, but she didn’t, and you supported her in every way you could until you couldn’t anymore.
“Jenna Ortega finds a new love interest after (Y/N) (L/N), maybe? New photos spot her with co-star (NAME REDACTED). They’re a little too close for comfort in friendship, if you ask me.” The TV blared from the other room. You completely ignored it when you got up, forgetting it was on and playing all night.
Your head turned to the sound, toothbrush in hand. You set it down, opening the door to the bathroom and eyeing the TV.
“The co-star in question, (NAME REDACTED), has a history of being with multiple women per year, seemingly never committing to one. Will Jenna finally make him commit, or will he just add her to his list?”
You knew him. You met him when you visited Jenna on the set, and you could tell of his interest in Jenna by the way he acted toward you. Immediately, you knew that the “relationship” was a PR stunt, the idea coming up to Jenna by her agent not long after you had met him, to which she turned down. She was happy with you, or was at the time.
Still, it didn’t prevent your heart from burning at the thought that, in order to make their relationship believable, they’d have to hug, kiss, and be with one another constantly. It made you want to gag.
Slowly and surely, you were getting over Jenna. It just... was harder than you anticipated getting over breakups to be when you were younger, before ever getting into a relationship.
 You sighed, heading to the nightstand beside your messy bed and turning the TV off. Your wrist was on the doorknob to the bathroom when there was a knock at your door. Sighing, you moved to open the door in your disheveled state.
“Hey, don’t worry about the housekeeping; I’ve got it all — Jenna?”
☟ ☟ ☟
thinking about making a taglist what y'all buds think? also might not make a part 2 to this and if i ever do, it’d be after i finish my watchtower series :)
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have-a-treato · 7 months
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These Hands
Gale x gn!reader, Gale x gn!Tav
Content/Tags: Soft, slow, NSFW, service top Tav/reader, oral, penetration, short, one-shot
Context: Between the ending of Act 2 and the beginning of Act 3, on the road to Baldur's Gate. Light spoilers for the end of Act 2, Gales overall story and a non-spoilery reference to the Act 2 romance scene.
Word count: 2.3k
“You should be with me in this… Let me-“ With one last kiss to his palm, you bring his hand to your chest, resting just over your heart. “I’m already here with you.” Your hips still with your next words, “I love you. Let me show you.”
Fic List AO3
After the battle with Ketheric Thorm the group has finally made its way on the road to Baldur’s Gate. The days have been long, and with many still recovering from the battle, everyone has decided to take a well-earned day of rest before continuing the last leg of the journey to the city.
Gale had unsurprisingly and generously produced a cozy space for you both to laze the day away in. His space is now closer to a library than a tent, with bookshelves lining a spun illusion of a tower room, plush carpets laid out on every inch of the floor, and a quiet fire burning in a hearth on one wall.
You grinned at him when first stepping inside, “Your home? In Waterdeep?” You teased him.
“I didn’t show you before, so now felt as good a time as any. Nothing in all the realms is more relaxing than my library,” he said with a decidedly pretentious tone.
With a knowing grin, you held up your hands in acquiescence and headed for the pile of pillows tucked between two of the bookshelves. Who were you to argue with a wizard about his tower?
Now, you’ve stirred from a long nap nestled into Gale’s side on the pillows as he reads a large tome picked up from somewhere on the journey. Probably the Sharran temple.
“Mmm… this was a great idea, I must admit.” You mumble into his shoulder as you wake.
Gale winds his arm around your hip, tucking you even closer. “That implies you had doubts about our afternoon of languor, and I must say I’m a bit offended. I have great ideas. Particularly when it comes to you.”
You let out a groggy snort as you stretch your free arm across his chest, continuing your ascent back to the waking world.
He turns his head away from his book to nuzzle your hair, “Go back to sleep,” he mumbles into your scalp. “You took some hard hits during the battle with Thorm. Or are you hungry? I can whip up the stew you like. Or could I interest you in a book from my vast collection? I have one in mind I think you’ll find fascinating. Or-“
You cut him off when you start quietly chuckling into his shoulder. This man nearly met his own end and yet he seeks to serve you.
“I’ll advise you it is unwise to laugh at a man’s stew.” He says with a grin.
You lift your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips, and wiggle out of his hold to straddle his middle. You gently remove that hefty tome of his and set it aside. Your hand shifts up his chest to lightly, absently trace the lines of his orb sigil along his neck.
“I only realized that I’d like to do something for you,” you say softly.
Gale’s grin falters momentarily, “I could not ask more of you, who have already given me everything.”
Your heart soars at his words, but you know Gale. You know just how deserving he is of everything you have to offer, yet he would not ask for it. He would not ask for anything for fear of not being worthy of it, despite all you’ve shared together. He must be shown how deserving he is, you decide. Slowly, perhaps he will come to see that he can receive the same love and care that he graces you with.
His hands reach for you after you’ve paused too long in your contemplating, but you catch his wrists. Closing your eyes, you plant a soft kiss at his right wrist, listening to his small, somewhat awed sigh at the touch. Your plan takes form in your mind, and you drop his left hand to begin work on his right. Beginning at his wrist, your thumbs move in small circles, massaging the muscle and small joints. As you move up toward to his elbow and back down to the wrist, squeezing lightly to continue massaging, Gale lets out another sigh. Your lips twitch at his easily coaxed reactions. He clearly enjoys this attention - why not let himself ask for more? You move to his hand, methodically rubbing down the length of each finger. You get a little lost in your task, enjoying the feel of his skin as you finish with the right and move to the left. Gale’s life as a prodigy shows in his hands. Not soft, as one might imagine for a wizard, but slightly rough and dry from the constant turning of pages, of wielding a staff, of pulling from the Weave. These hands have worshiped your skin, have clinched victories, have created wonders. They are precious. Glancing up at him, he has a bemused expression but attempts to hide it with that ever-present grin. You bring both hands up to your lips to kiss his knuckles. A few small scars decorate the tops of his hands, and you take a moment to give each one their own attentions.
“Hmm…” you sigh with your lips brushing over his fingers. “These hands have done so much.”
“These hands can do more,” he says with a lift of his brows.
You chuckle, giving an index finger a little nip. “Oh yes, I’m acquainted with their skills.” You eye him mischievously, licking the tip of that same finger with your tongue. A tease. “I would know what these hands desire.”
“They want for nothing where you are concerned. How can they grant your desires? Now, there is the better question.” He replies.
Not good enough. You hold his gaze again, trying to let him see your openness, your earnestness to give him something of yourself that he deserves. Something he didn’t have to earn by being anything other than himself. You slide your tongue around that finger, bringing it into your mouth, sucking lightly from knuckle to tip.
“Nothing?” You whisper, “Nothing at all?”
His eyes are locked with yours, and you sense him tense beneath you slightly. The jovial mask of Gale of Waterdeep slips a little; in his eyes you see that yearning you suspected was there all along. They search your face, looking for deception, for conditional affection, perhaps even outright lies. But they will find none, and you will prove it to him over and over and over again. You press and encouraging kiss to his palms, catching the movement of his throat as he swallows nervously.
“You.” He says lowly. “Always you.”
Reverently placing his hands down, you lean in, taking his face between your palms. “You have me. Wholly.” You breathe onto his lips. The kiss is a brush of skin at first, then confident as he attempts to take the lead, dancing that talented tongue with yours to drive you mad. You nip at his lower lip to take back control, slowing the pace. Softly sucking on his lip as you pull back, you give him your eyes full of that openness to reassure him, as your hands move lower.
Slowly you release the buckle of his tunic, pushing the fabric up over his torso, planting treasuring kisses along his chest as you head down to his trousers. His hands make a gentle protest in your hair, but you place them back at his sides, a quiet question in your eyes as you continue. You can see the uncertainty in his gaze, the hesitation to bask in your attention, and the mix of excitement and curiosity for what you will do next. Which will win out?
He gives a soft, tentative smile as your signal to continue. You unfasten the ties for his trousers with an easy smile, tugging them down just enough, and do the same for his underwear. The moment is too precious to interrupt with disrobing completely. You are singularly focused on showing this man, in some small way, just how much you care for him.
His cock bobs, half-hard, as you reveal it. You take him in hand, pausing again with that question in your eyes as you bend down. His chest rises and falls in anticipation as he gives you a slight nod, reaching out a hand to thread through your hair loosely. Starting at the base, you give him a long, thorough lick, keeping his gaze all the while. The throaty noise Gale releases in response is delicious in your ears – you want more. His cock stiffens fully in your hand now, and you put your lips around the tip, circling and sucking. The hand in your hair twitches. More. You hear a hiss as you swallow him fully, pulling back up to flick your tongue at the sensitive underside of his head, then pushing back down, sucking hard this time. That hiss turns into a huff as your pace quickens, squeezing the base of him with your fingers. More. You want even more. Even though this is about Gale, you might be a little selfish. You want to see the faces he’s making, how his chest is heaving, how his arms are flexing to restrain himself, the shape his mouth makes with each sound. With a few last licks and sucks, you pull off, too eager to make those visions a reality. You sit up and lick your lips, watching his face as he pants and reaches for you.
You shake your head, backing off to impatiently remove your underthings. Crawling back to straddle him, you take that hand that reached out up to your mouth to kiss his wrist. You position yourself and begin to sink down slowly, almost teasingly onto his cock. His breath hitches with each rise and fall of your hips as you take him inside you. This - this is what you wanted. His rapturous expression as he fits inside you, as you squeeze him, as you bite the meat of his thumb in your own ecstasy. He is yours, and you will worship him as he deserves. Fully seated, you begin to slowly rock your hips. This isn’t a race, isn’t lewd, isn’t about your pleasure. It is intimate, and full of your will to prove him worthy of you, worthy of his own life. You kiss each knuckle of his fingers as you continue that slow, sensual rocking. His eyes are heavy-lidded, jaw slack, chest rising and falling with his panting breath as he takes in the sight of you. You are both mostly clothed, and yet it is somehow all the more passionate for it.
“I…”, he breathes, then clears his throat nervously. “I won’t last much longer with you like this.”
“Then let go,” you say softly. “This isn’t about me.”
His expression remains conflicted, flitting between pleasure and confusion of your focused attention. “You should be with me in this… Let me-“
With one last kiss to his palm, you bring his hand to your chest, resting just over your heart. “I’m already here with you.” Your hips still with your next words, “I love you. Let me show you.”
His breath shudders as your hips restart their languid rhythm. Your hand rests over his on your chest, his other hand grasping your hip as you rock, lift up slightly, and sink back down into another rocking motion. All slow, liquid movements. Your gazes are locked, your chests lifting with the same breaths, your mouths softly open with the same tender sounds of desire. The hand at your hip squeezes, and you feel his hips start to meet yours in kind. A long groan escapes him as he quickly thrusts up into you.
“Yes,” you breathe. You lean forward as his eyes fall shut, taking in his face as he comes. His cheeks flush, his brows furrow, his breath rushes out in quick pants; then all slows and relaxes into bliss. Your rhythm doesn’t stop, riding him through the high and leading him back down again. The light sheen of sweat on his brow earns a kiss from you, and you rest your head there, patiently waiting for him to return to you. His breath slows, and his eyes blink open sluggishly. That soft, wicked grin of his returns, but you notice the lingering astonishment behind his eyes, as if he still can’t quite believe you’re real despite everything.
“For once I think I’ve rendered you speechless.”
A light chuckle escapes him as he catches his breath, “Very nearly.” He swallows, “That was…”
You interrupt his search for words with a quiet kiss. You’d rather leave the moment as it is. It needs no description, only the understanding that you did it for him because you love him. You pull away with a tender caress of his cheek, sitting back and pulling his tunic back down, his trousers back up as you lift off of him. You sense him watching you, still likely contemplating if you are amongst the illusions of this room. Quietly you re-dress in your underthings and bestow more kisses on his hands as you rejoin him among the pillows on your knees. “I recall mention of stew, but what about a cup of tea first?”
“That sounds lovely.” He says with a smile. Before he can even twitch a muscle, you’ve lifted up again and are strolling toward the very real small table near the hearth housing a teapot with ready-made tea the Wizard of Waterdeep keeps magically warmed with an environmental spell. In a few moments, you’re striding back with two cups, warmed to the perfect temperature and ready to sip. You place Gale’s cup atop the tome he was perusing earlier, earning you a slightly scandalized look as he swipes the cup up, taking a sip. You chuckle to yourself as you re-take your place at his side on the pillows. As he sets his cup down – not on a book this time – you snatch his hands again.
Placing one at your cheek and one to your lips you whisper, “I can’t get enough of these hands.”
---
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.
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y2kstratusfaction · 4 months
Text
enemies to lovers (kinda) - 2000s randy orton x fem! reader
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author's note: hiiii! 2000s randy orton has my soul, he is so fine and for what??
You've seen Randy walk around backstage, nose high up in the air, a smug smile on his face. You weren't one to judge people without talking to them first, but from the way Randy carries himself, thinking he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, it made you hate his guts.
One day, as you're preparing for your own match, you catch a glimpse of Randy leaning against a locker, chatting with Rhodes and DiBiase Jr., his personal Tweedledee and Tweedledum. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment, and that familiar arrogance glints in his gaze. You can't help but roll your eyes and continue lacing up your boots. His smirk makes your blood boil. And the fact that you can’t seem to read his intentions makes it even worse.
He’s used to getting his way with a threat of a fist to a face, but when he tried to size you up and you were less than impressed, he was caught off guard and confused. And from that moment onward, Randy made it his mission to get a reaction from you that isn’t a snide remark, a sneer, or you just flat out ignoring him.
He tried pouring tanning oil in your bag, hiding your gear, and locking you in the broom closet. But your nonchalance only made Randy go further into his temper tantrum. His words don’t do much damage either.
“If you put that much lipstick on you, your lips might fall off.” “I think it’s best if I don’t get makeup advice from a guy whose face tan doesn’t match his legs.”
Cody and Ted noticed it, and they weren’t much help to Randy’s case. They would tease him about his apparent obsession with you, and the more they prodded, the more vehemently he denied it.
"It's like you're obsessed with her or something," Cody teased one day in the locker room. "I am not!" Randy retorted defensively. "You think she’s pretty, don’t you?" Ted chimed in with a sly grin. "She is NOT pretty," Randy insisted, though his quick dismissal seemed less convincing each time.
OKAY. Maybe Randy did catch himself looking at you for a second too long, noticing if you were uncomfortable by how you furrow your brows, or how good you looked in blue. But that’s beside the point! You hated his guts, he hated yours. End of story.
That’s what he would usually tell himself. But one fateful night made him question his apparent hate towards you. You were just getting ready for your match against Lita when, waiting at the gorilla, Randy walked up to you.
"You're gonna hurt yourself without these," he says, offering you a roll of wrist tape. You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the gesture. "What's the catch?" "No catch," he replies, a hint of sincerity in his voice. "Just don't want you falling apart out there." You take the tape, a bit skeptical, but appreciative nonetheless. As you start wrapping your wrists, he lingers, watching you carefully. "There. Now you won't completely embarrass yourself," he teases. You shoot him a playful glare, surprised at the unexpected act of kindness. As he walks away, you catch him glancing back at you, a genuine smile on his lips.
Randy continued his torments afterwards, acting like nothing happened, but his words and pranks were less intense this time around. One Tuesday afternoon, Vince called you to tell you that Randy chose you to be his partner for a mixed tag match against Masters and Torrie. That was weird. Why would Randy pick you? Knowing full well that you hate him just as much as he hates you? Suspicious. You’re put on edge for the entire week until the night of the match.
Despite Randy being a hard-ass backstage, he was a far better person to work with in the ring. The match went on as planned. Low blows, eye scratches, the whole shebang. But when Randy and Masters were squabbling at each other, you notice a steel chair on the spot where Randy was supposed to take a DDT. You scramble your way to the ring, making sure to be as discreet as possible. It went unnoticed for the most part, but Randy caught wind of what you were doing. After the match, Randy called to you just before you went in your rented car and left the parking lot. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"You know," he started, "I never thought I'd say this, but you're not as terrible as I thought." You snort, your brow raised, “Wow. That’s high praise coming from you.” He chuckled, a sound that you haven’t heard before. "I mean it. Thanks for the save back there.” “It’s no problem. Can’t have the legend killer killed now, would we?” Randy leaned on the hood of your car, “Listen. Are you free tomorrow?” His voice went softer after each word he spoke. “Yeah, why? Wanna ask me out on a date or something?” You joked, waiting for his scoff. But it never came. You turn your head and meet his eyes. Randy was blushing. The sight made you want to rub your eyes to see if it’s actually real. And it is undoubtedly so. A blush of your own makes its way to your cheeks. You decided to put Randy out of his misery, “Pick me up at 7.”
You don’t give Randy the chance to react. You lean forward to kiss him on the cheek before driving off and leaving Randy in the parking lot with a dopey smile on his face.
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obriengf · 27 days
Text
24 Minutes || Stiles Stilinski x Reader
Summary: You find Stiles hiding away after the burial of his mother. Words: 1.6k Warnings: sadness, mentions of death, mentions of graves, mentions of loss Notes: this was sad to write! also these babies are now 9 years old, growing up fast!
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part two of TWENTY FOUR - a stiles stilinski series (masterlist)
The sky was grey; a murky tone that cast a shadowy blanket over a small town, a quintessential backdrop to a ceremony that held sadness and loss. It was the depth of angst that settled within hearts, pulling and tearing until a hole was formed and left unfilled. There was one less mother, wife, daughter, friend in the world and it was felt tenfold by every single person that surrounded her wooden casket. The rain had held off but it didn't make the circumstances any more fortunate - the sombre air only further strangulating the grieving weeps of townsfolk, the thick tension gathering within Beacon Hill's cemetery with such magnetic force. Today... was an incredibly sad day. It was hard to watch as your friend stared at his dress shoes, inadvertently accepting the sombre apologies from friends and family that were projected toward him and his father. He was usually a loud kid, full of energy and excitement and mischief - never able to settle down or lose his smile. From the day you first met him, Stiles Stilinski was the epitome of sunshine, but the decline of his mother's health brought out a gloominess in him that hurt your young heart nearly as much as it did his own. His hands were tucked behind his back, but you knew he was fiddling with his fingers - a way to express the anxious energy that was constantly building within him. The past few months had been extremely tough on the young boy, but today was the worst by far, and it was written so painfully across his permanent frown and puffy red eyes. You stood to the side beside your parents as they made small talk with others from around town, their voices drowning out as you kept your focus on Stiles and the immense sympathy you were holding for him. You desired to talk to him, to comfort him, hold his hand and be a shoulder to cry on - something that children your age should never have to worry about feeling, and yet, your chest squeezed with the inclination to do just that.
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The ceremony was dismal, but the melancholy somehow was much stronger as you all gathered downstairs of the Stilinski residence - bodies clad in black moving slowly, sadly, as stories were shared and memories reminisced. It didn't feel right to be in this house with the absence of smiles and laughter from the family you grew so close to; the ones who you treated like an extension of your own tree, with as much love and trust that you had for your parents.
You were standing to the side as Scott McCall nudged your shoulder, his frame just slightly taller than yours. It had only taken six months of daily measuring until he finally passed that threshold - but he wasn't gloating about it today. The boy instead offered a smile of complete sorrow, a commiserative gesture, the only thing you two could muster despite the circumstances. He was the type to comfort anyone who needed it due to testing trials of his own and the demons that he still didn't understand clearly. A story of which you weren't aware of yet.
"Has anybody seen my son?" Noah's voice croaked, the hoarseness evident from hours of grieving. The crowd in the living room declined, quickly followed by the guests filtered into the kitchen. He looked worried as sudden urgency grappled at his features, an anxious act that was mirrored so easily when it came to Stiles' turn to express such emotion. Stiles was Noah's reminder of Claudia Stilinski - a physical being with her eyes and freckled complexion - and with that loss, he turned to panic.
Your hand was gentle as it grabbed Scott's wrist, careful not to tug too hard as you ushered him to follow you across the room. Noah Stilinski was a second father to you, and you hated the idea of your family hurting. You stopped abruptly in front of him, Scott nearly bumping into your back as he gathered composure, your eyes wide as you peered up. "We can find him, Mr Stilinski."
"Please, that would... I would really appreciate it, kids." Noah's left hand settled on your shoulder, as his right sat upon Scott's. He knew that if anybody could locate his son, it would be his two best friends.
You turned to Scott, pushing back every inclination to poke fun at his missing front tooth, before you nodded your head toward him, "Okay, Scotty. Where should we start?"
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Twenty minutes had already passed by the time you peered down to your watch - red and blue pictures staring back at you, a Spiderman-themed timekeeper courtesy of Stiles for your eighth birthday. Stiles was still missing and you were running out of hiding places.
You huffed, frustrated at your inability to find him, and it prompted Scott to turn around with consoling eyes, "We'll find him, Y/N. Promise." A tight-lipped smile was all you could reply with before Scott hummed, his gaze flicking around the room in thought. You could've sworn you saw a lightbulb go off as an idea struck his young mind, that gap-tooth smile making another appearance, "Okay, how about we split up? I'll go outside and you can check some more upstairs!"
It was a good plan, you thought, despite already ducking your heads into the upstairs bathroom and Stiles' bedroom without any success. You wondered if Scott was trying to distract you, to buy some time as he tried to think of something better - but you complied regardless, not wanting to give up on looking for your friend. Especially after the weighted events of today.
Your little steps made the boards creak as you ascended the staircase, any further moves stopped as you ended up standing aimlessly in the landing. Stiles wouldn't have ventured far, he wasn't that type of kid, choosing to instead make new places out of the ones he already knew - and it reminded you of all the times you couldn't find him during Hide and Seek. Your friend was as creative as he was mischievous and it made such a simple game into an absolute challenge.
It wasn't until you remembered the one place you actually found him, before any of this creativity of his fell into serious play. It was obvious the more you thought about it and suddenly, a smile tugged up between your cheeks at the possibility that you knew where Stiles would be.
The hinges of his bedroom door carried a long squeak as you gently pushed it open, the echo loud as it bounced around the room. It didn't look any different to when you and Scott were here earlier, your watch now indicating that it had been twenty-four minutes since you declared your search party mission to Noah Stilinski. It was dull at first - the sorrowful sound of a cry, a sniffle to interrupt the heartache of a young boy. You hadn't noticed it before but now you found it hard not to. You followed it slowly as if any quick movements would set him off, and it led you to where you wanted to be.
"Stiles?" Your voice was tender and quiet, an alert to let him know that you had finally found him. Your friend sniffled in reply and your smile quickly dropped to a worried frown. You stared at the closet before opening the door - light filtering inside before highlighting the cowered figure of Stiles in the corner.
His knees dragged to his chest as arms locked around them, face buried except for the big glassy brown eyes you knew too well. He was heavily distraught and your heart ached dearly for him. You cooed before walking in beside him and taking a seat, your arms brushing as a form of comfort. Legs were crossed in front of you as your hands settled in your lap, gaze now trained on the boy as he had yet to look away from you.
"We've been looking for you." You spoke, head tilting only slightly to better see his face.
Stiles took a shaky breath as arms dragged over his eyes, an attempt to wipe away the trail of tears that had been nursing him in your absence. His voice was scratchy and fractured, "There were too many people... and they kept saying sorry, a-and it was too much."
"I know." Your arm reached out for him as it sat idly on his shoulder, trying to soothe his sobs. Stiles' head leaned against it swiftly as a form of comfort. "We can stay up here a little longer if ya want?"
He sat up straight; eyes widened as honey-glazed hues stared back at you, doe-like and sparked with hope. He was glad that you didn't try to force him back downstairs. "D'ya mean it?"
"Of course." Arms were held wide toward Stiles, an offering for him to fall into them before you enclosed them tightly around his frame. The embrace was sweet, and soon regarded as necessary as Stiles began to cry into your shoulder. He was tired of it all.
His voice was muffled, but you could still make out his words as the boy pressed further into you. "She's really gone, Y/N. Mom's gone." Your hands moved in circles over his jacket as he continued to cry, something your parents would do when you were upset to make you feel better. And as you did, Stiles' hands grasped the fabric at the back of your dress and pulled you against his chest - the mere thought of letting you go scaring him into thinking he'd lose you too.
Your features were scrunched as your brows furrowed and lips downturned. If made you coo, a soft hum, shushing delicately into the young boy's ear, "She is, Stiles. But I'll help you get through it. I'll always be here for you."
"Promise?"
"Pinky promise."
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 29 days
Note
Can i request follower!Narinder x follower!reader who's kind heart person? Like they always want to help other even tho they rude to them,and they forgive them eventually but Narinder cannot handle see​ing his spouse being disrespectful.
I want this to be oneshot angst/fluff pls thank you and have a nice day/night🥰
"How goes...your marriage..?"
"Hmph..hello to you too, sister." Narinder rolled his eyes as he sat by the pond with a bowl of stew, hoping for some peace and quiet.
But of course, ever since his siblings arrived into Lamb's cult and learned that he was betrothed to a mortal..he hasn't known such things.
He could tolerate Heket at the very least, since Kallamar was off flirting with gods-know-who, Leshy was on a missionary, and Shamura was reading their usual books.
"It fairs well. I sometimes find it funny.."
"Hm?"
"Shamura surely couldn't have predicted that I would become wedded to a measly mortal..let alone find myself in my vessel's cult. I was to sacrifice them and all of Lamb's followers. Yet when I ended up here..[y/n] was the first to reach out a hand and help me find my place." The black cat huffed. "When others mocked me..they defended my name day and night despite my past transgressions, willing to lookover the fact I once thought of them as nothing but a pawn in my game."
"You've..gotten soft..brother.." Heket lightly teased, earning her a scowl from him. However, something in the distance caught her eyes, and she tensed. "Go."
"What? Go away, you mean?" He blinked in confusion, taken aback by her command as he sneered. "I open my heart up to you, and you have the nerve to-?!"
"[Y/n]." She simply pointed, and he followed her gaze to the drinkhouse where you were trying to help a drunken follower stand on their own two feet.
While you could normally handle that sort of thing, something about it didn't sit right with Narinder. They were acting rather belligerent, babbling nonsense and causing a barrel to topple over, all while refusing to surrender their empty glass.
Only then he remember you were the bartender for today and were trying to close up shop.
He got up, deciding to let Heket finish his stew, and began walking over. His footsteps were silent as to not draw attention to himself.
He wanted to observe how you'd handle the situation.
"Please, go rest." You gently tried to urge the inebriated follower. "You've had enough."
"Don't touch meeeeeee...I ain't-" A hiccup interrupted them as their face became redder, words so slurred you could hardly understand them. "I ain't gonna..go anywherrre.."
"I'm afraid you must, I'm sorry-"
"Nooooo...I don't wanna be handled by some...idiot who slept with the One Who Waits!"
You froze. "Pardon?"
"Whatdya see in that guy anyway? He haaaates us all..he was..gonna kill us, right? And Lamby, too?" They grumbled, now sounding completely serious and irate. "Why don't you wanna be with Lamby? Or me? Or someone who isn't a monster...do ya hate us, too?"
"No, I don't hate anyone." You tried to reassure them. "But it's rude to speak of Narinder that way."
"But his stupid siblings..they...they hurt us so much because of him!" Tears began filling their eyes, their expression growing angrier. "Why did they have to come? What they did to us...was 'cuz of HIM! EVERYTHING is his fault!!!"
"I hear your pain, my friend. I really do. But Lamb believed-"
"WHAT ABOUT WHAT I BELIEVE?!" They raised their empty glass in a threatening manner, and you flinched, taking your hands off their robe in preparation for an attack.
But before anything could happen-
A black paw grabbed their wrist, claws digging into their flesh. Not enough to draw blood, but just enough to make it hurt and divert their attention to a certain angry feline.
"How irritating.." A trio of red eyes pierced through Narinder's veil as he scowled down at the follower. "I don't know whether you're more annoying now or when you're sober. You may scorn Lamb to your heart's content..but to threaten my spouse is a line you'll regret ever crossing. Now go lie down before I make you."
With a nod and a quiet whimper, they shakily set the glass down on the counter. And the moment he let their wrist go, they took off stumbling all the way to their shelter.
You frowned a little. "Darling, it's my job to lead them to-"
"They'll find their own way. Whatever they break can be fixed in no time." Narinder dismissed as he went to clean off the glass, while you plugged up the beer kegs for the night.
But as he rubbed and twisted the rag, he began thinking about what might've happened had he not intervened when he did..and it only made him angrier.
What if the glass was still full and they decided to spill it?
What if they threw it at your head?
What if they left tiny shards in your flesh and caused blood to pour down your face?
What if-?
*crack*
A sudden sharp pain in his paw pad made him wince slightly, realizing that the cup broke apart, a piece of glass now embedded in his own flesh.
Great.
"Oh no, let me take care of that for you, love."
He perked up at your voice, seeing you pull out a pair of tweezers and a roll of bandages from your robe pocket. "I can do it myself, you know."
"And risk getting more blood on the counter?" You pointed out the red splatters on the oak. "Heavens no."
Narinder chuffed, eventually turning his paw over and allowing you to tend to his injury. "Why do you allow them to speak to you that way? And being drunk is no excuse. They knew damn well what they were saying. They've disproved of our relationship from the start."
"So have plenty of others, including your own siblings, Nari. They'll come around eventually. I have all the faith in them."
"[Y/n]..they almost smashed a glass over your head. And I stopped them from doing so." He growled, frustrated at your lack of outrage. "You are content in letting such disrespect continue without punishment? Without consulting Lamb? If we cannot do anything about it, surely they can."
"I will let it go this one time. But only because I believe they won't do it again. I think they learned their lesson thanks to you." You simply reassured him, before you finished wrapping the gauze around his paw.
With a smile, you brought it up to your lips and kissed it, eyes flickering up to him. "You needn't worry, my darling. I am okay."
"...I'm not worrying about anything." Narinder scoffed, having difficulty hiding the blush beneath his fur. "I simply refuse to tolerate imbeciles who make obscene assumptions about us, thinking there'd be no repercussions."
"Of course, but in any case..thank you for coming to my defense."
"Hm.."
"Now come." You gently tugged him away from the drinkhouse, looping your arm around his. "I believe we have some farming plots to attend to. I promised Lamb I'd work on them in Leshy's steed, but what say...you pick out the seeds you wish to plant this time?"
Narinder's ears perked. "Hah. I thought you were about to tell me to gather fertilizer." He chuckled quietly. "You are too good to me sometimes."
"Well, I figured you could use a break. Come, come!"
And so he followed you to the farming area. While he could sense Heket still staring at him, knowing her grin was smug as ever, he didn't care about what she was thinking--or what anybody in the cult was thinking for that matter.
All that he cared about right now was vegetation would prosper best on this warm spring day.
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megistusdiary · 1 year
Note
mm titfuck with scaramouche? <33 he’s had a rough day, you’re willing to help him out! ^^
— 💌
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i might be the flattest person alive but i can appreciate a good titfuck 🙏
also i am so sorry for vanishing i have been so busy with school and home stuff, and i wanted to write over fall break, but i was with my bf basically every waking moment and had no time ;w;
anyways i just registered for spring semester and it is looking like an actual nightmare rn but i did it to myself to save gas money 👍
anyways... scaramouche is a harbinger in this fic and theres a shit ton of useless plot!
warnings: switch!scaramouche and switch!fem anatomy/pronouns reader
scara fucks your tits 🧚‍♀️, exhausted but bitchy scara, consent check, oil as lube, scara calls you 'good girl'
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scaramouche sighed, throwing his bag to the floor and dumping his hat onto the table.
the noise startled you from your accidental evening nap, jolting upwards to see scaramouche turning on the lights in your home.
his hair was slightly ruffled from where his hat rested atop his head, eyes half-lidded as he walked towards you.
"oh...i didn't realize you were there." was all he said as you rubbed your eyes, moving to stand up.
"i guess i fell asleep on the couch after i got home." you shrugged, folding up the blankets around you. "how was work?"
scaramouche once again sighed, sinking into the couch cushions, leaning back to let his head hang off the edge. "shitty."
"i'm sorry to hear that." you frowned as he swung his head in your direction, sighing yet again. "is there anything i can do to make you feel better?"
he let out a grunt, folding his arms over his chest. "unless you can make the rest of my...coworkers," his fingers coming up to act as quotation marks when he spoke, "get off my back, then no, i don't think so."
"what about some tea? i picked up your favorite on my way home." you offered, lips quirking up when he finally perked up a little. "stay here, i'll go heat some water up."
as you moved to stand, he grabbed your wrist, tugging at your arm. "what-"
"wait." scaramouche grumbled to himself, digging in his pocket with his free hand before pulling a bracelet out, holding it in his palm.
"scaramouche-"
"ugh, don't even ask. it's for you, i would never wear something so ridiculous. as incessant as he is, pantalone has an eye for jewelry. he helped me pick it out."
"you didn't have to do that for me." your face felt warm as he gently turned your wrist to clasp the bracelet, letting you feel the cool metal against your skin.
his touch lingered for a moment, fingertips trailing across your palm before retreating. "can't you just thank me?" scaramouche asked, turning away to hide the slight blush covering his cheeks as you smiled.
you leaned down, gently pressing a kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin. "thank you, it's very beautiful." you walked off towards the kitchen, feeling giddy as you pulled the kettle out to set it on the stove.
it was a gift from childe, another one of scaramouche's coworkers whom he detested for his overeager disposition.
you recounted him being a very sweet gentleman, presenting you with the kettle when you first visited snezhnaya. though, the kettle itself was from liyue, 'a gift from a friend to a friend,' as childe put it.
it was a beautiful gold shade with trees painted along the sides, and it shone in the light of the kitchen as it slowly started to boil.
you left the pot briefly to pick out a tea set to match the kettle, opting to choose scaramouche's favorite cups. he had said before he didn't care about such useless things, though you could see the little sparkle in his eyes whenever you brought out the hand-painted forest tea set.
once the water was ready, you took great care in steeping the tea leaves to the perfect color in scaramouche's cup. you added the perfect amount of sugar as well. despite his words of saying he preferred his tea bitter, you knew he really loved sweets secretly.
you carefully set everything on the tray, bringing it over to scaramouche who looked like he was deep in thought. "what are you thinking about?"
"hm? oh, work, it's nothing." he shrugged you off, moving to sit across from you at the table as you slid him his cup. "it smells good."
"i know, i checked every bag i could find. even though it's rare to come by here, i wanted to find the perfect one."
scaramouche hid his slight smile in his cup, shaking his head as he took small sips. "i'm surprised you even remembered i liked this specific brew. it's been a long time since we had tea in liyue."
"of course i remembered." you scoffed, looking over at him with a cheeky grin. "you bought the whole stock when you thought i wasn't looking."
scaramouche rolled his eyes, setting his cup down in favor of resting his chin on his hand. "maybe you're more perceptive than i thought."
"oh please, don't even. if you thought i was dumb, you wouldn't have spared me another glance." you stated, setting your own cup down as you clasped your hands in front of you. "maybe you're just surprised you're not as slick as you thought you were."
"you should watch your tongue." was all he said, narrowing his eyes.
"what are you gonna do? bite it off?"
"i bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" scaramouche watched you finally turn away, relishing in the delight of flustering you.
"what happened to being all tired from work?" you asked him, watching as he drummed his fingers along the edge of the table rhythmically.
"i'm not tired, just pissed off."
"well, why don't you let me make you feel better." you slowly leaned towards him, cupping his face with one of your hands.
his hand came up instinctively to cradle yours, meeting your gaze with his own intrigued one. "what exactly did you have in mind? it better be good."
you bit back your laughter, standing up and moving behind his chair. you leaned down, letting your chest press against his back as your breath ghosted over the shell of his ear. "why don't you let me surprise you, hm?" you smirked softly as he shivered, turning his head to grip your chin firmly.
"well, don't keep me waiting then." he pulled his chair out, allowing you to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom, forgetting the tea on the table as you pushed him to sit on the bed near the headboard.
you cafefully crawled into his lap, leaning up to kiss him before he stopped you with a single finger pressed to your lips. "what is it?" you asked, muffled by the digit.
"do you want to do this? if you're tired, it's fine. you don't have to, you know." that was his way of checking in on you, making sure you were okay.
"my surprise is all about you, don't worry." you smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his finger. "you can repay me some other time." you grinned up at him cheekily as he grunted, moving his hand to let you kiss him properly.
as you pressed your lips to his, your hands traveled down to his waistband, playing with the ties as he inhaled sharply through his nose.
you carefully pulled the fabric down, feeling his happy trail against your hand as his cock sprung free against his stomach. you smiled as you moved down his body, pressing a small kiss to his tip and watching his dick twitch.
you scooted off the bed to grab the bottle of oil from the nightstand, pouring some onto your hand and rubbing it between your fingers before wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.
"fuck-" he sighed, letting his head lean back against the headboard as you played with him. you moved your hand up and down, twisting gently and running your thumb over the slit.
his eyes opened, narrowing at you when you pulled away. before he could object you moved his hands to the hem of your shirt. "help me get this off." you asked, feeling him slowly peel your shirt off. "the bra too."
he flung your shirt off to the side, reaching behind you and fumbling for the clasp of your bra, pulling it off of you and allowing it to fall to the floor. when he reached for your pants, you shook your head, sliding back down.
"i told you, this is a surprise for you." you moved to press his dick against your chest, rubbing against his dick as he watched with wide eyes.
"come on, don't tease me." he warned you, sounding ever-so-slightly breathless. you obliged, pressing his dick between your breasts as he sighed, feeling the tightness pressing around him.
you pushed your hands on the sides of your chest, pushing your breasts together and moving your body up and down. "does that feel good?" you smiled up at him as his thighs tensed, hands gripping the bedsheets.
"more, faster-" he whined at you, losing his composure. your body pressed into him more, leaning your weight onto his legs.
his hips moved on their own, hands coming to grip your shoulders and head as he fucked your tits at his own pace, moving you at his leisure. he grunted quietly, explicatives spilling from his lips as your chest became covered in oil and slick from his dick, coating your skin.
"good girl, good girl..." he sighed, moving his hips faster, feeling you press your breasts against him tighter until he let out a gasp, arching his back and coming hard.
his release shot up against your chin and neck, coating you in white as he slowly leaned back against the bed, hair stuck to his skin with sweat.
you pulled yourself up, laying on the bed with him for a moment before he wrinkled his nose, pulling your hand. "the bracelet has cum on it."
"it's from your own dick, and-"
"this is gross. we're showering."
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