#people have always been the ones to sabotage him

[favefandomimagines]

Ocean Away (a.b)

Summary: a disastrous fight threatens to end your engagement with Anthony

AN: inspired by “Ocean Away” from the Unofficial Bridgerton Musical. I know it’s a song for Daphne and Simon but I thought it would fit so well with Anthony

This was deeeep in my drafts

He hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. What started out as a seemingly normal conversation, ended in both you and Anthony shouting at each other.

“Anthony, I need to ask you something.” You said to your fiancé. “Yes, darling?” He questioned. “When was the last time you saw Siena?” You asked.

The question took him aback. You have never spoken of Siena or his past endeavors. Meaning something must have made you ask him. “What has made you wonder such a thing?” Anthony asked. “Lady Whistledown,” You started before a scoff cut you off.

“Lady Whistledown? You are believing this gossip now.” He spoke. “She has never been wrong before, Anthony. She wrote that she saw you leave the opera house the other evening.” You said.

“An evening where you said you were with Benedict.” You added. “You are above believing these lies, Y/N.” He said. “You have not yet denied it once.” You replied.

Anthony had yet to deny any of what Lady Whistledown wrote and that made you fear that what you had read was true. “I should not have to. We are to be husband and wife in a matter of weeks and you question my fidelity to you.” Anthony said.

“Because two weeks before you proposed to me you were with her. Am I wrong for worrying?” You rebutted. “Your insecurities are not my doing, do not put this blame on me.” He snapped. “My insecurities? I have never been insecure in our engagement until you gave me a reason to be.” You spoke. “This is mad. You believe Lady Whistledown over me?” He asked.

“For goodness sake, Anthony, you have not denied it! There is only one side to this currently and it is hers.” You yelled. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to entertain this any longer.” He said, turning away from you. “You cannot even be honest with me, can you?” You asked quietly.

Anthony could hear the way your voice began to break as his back was to you. He never wanted to hurt you.

Hurting you was at the top of a list of things he never wanted to do to you. And by not claiming his innocence because of his pride, he was hurting you.

“I am going to spend the night in Eloise’s room.” You announced. Anthony still made no attempt to move or even apologize.

You wiped a tear from your face quickly as you headed for the door.

“I sincerely hope you know that Lady Whistledown said I was mad for accepting your proposal. That you would always be the naive and self-sabotaging young viscount. Please do not prove her right.” You spoke before leaving the room.

The problem was Anthony was a prideful man and it would be his pride that would prevent him from doing what was right.

The garden party was supposed to be a celebration of your engagement and it was turning quite sour. Luckily, no one knew of the turmoil that was going on because of the facade you had put on all day.

You spoke to guests, entertained their prodding questions into your wedding and tried to carry on with the afternoon. Your eyes often wandered to Anthony, who was standing stoically with Colin and Benedict. He looked as if he had completely forgotten about your argument as if it meant nothing.

It hurt you, seeing him act so blasè about what had occurred the night prior. That made you fearful because what if he ended the engagement? What if he did not want you anymore?

He had yet to apologize for the way he spoke and the words he said, you had hoped he had just forgotten. Or maybe he was not sorry at all.

You found Eloise and Penelope Featherington, both girls trying to help distract you from your own thoughts.

Eloise was one of your favorite people because of simply how she was unapologetically herself. She was a very funny young woman and that was refreshing in society.

Anthony watched you as you smiled and laughed with his sister by the lake. You were happy after all that happened last night. How could you be happy?

“How can she be smiling? It is as if she realized I am not what she wants.” Anthony spoke aloud. Benedict and Colin looked at one another, neither knowing how to approach the topic.

“Brother, maybe she is trying to be brave. Not let people know she is hurting. They all believe you were with Siena the other evening, she is trying to show it is all a lie. Even if she does not believe it herself.” Benedict said.

Anthony continued to watch you, your eyes never once meeting his gaze. He knew he needed to apologize to you. Tell you that he was never with Siena and the moment he realized you were who he wanted, he had not seen her.

There was a moment where he lost you in the crowd of people. He did not know where you went off to and that worried him more so than his pride.

Anthony started frantically looking around the grounds for you, weaving through the crowd until he spotted you sitting on the bench under the willow tree.

You had always loved that spot and often times Anthony would catch you reading there. It was also the spot you were sitting in when the two of you confessed your love for each other for the first time.

He approached you silently and sat down a few inches away from you.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You had just arrived at the Queen’s ball with your mother and it felt as if time stopped. There was nothing, that tempted me to take my eyes off of you. I knew then that I wanted you and only you. You made me believe that marriage could be for love and for nothing else.” Anthony spoke.

Him recounting the night of your debut made your eyes well up with tears.

“I am afraid. I am afraid that you will want her again and I cannot go through that kind of pain. I love you with everything that I am and if I was not enough for you, it would be the death of me.” You confessed.

Anthony looked at you with slightly wide eyes, never having heard your concerns before. He blamed his past behavior on your fears knowing it was not an easy feat to love someone with his reputation.

He moved closer to you and took your hand in his. “I am also afraid.” He spoke. It was then you looked at him with eyes wide, never having heard the man you love he so vulnerable.

“I am afraid that I will not make you happy. That one day you will wake up and feel like some other man could make you happier.” He continued. “I do not think there is another man in this lifetime who will make me as happy as you do.” You said.

“I have not nor will I ever, see Siena again. You are the woman I love, the woman I cannot stop thinking about. It will always be you.” Anthony said. “She has always had such a strong hold on you, forgive me for being skeptical.” You muttered.

“Now the only woman who has a strong hold on me is you. And that is how it will stay.” He replied. “Do you promise?” You asked. “I promise.” He spoke without hesitation.

Anthony took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.” He said. “I love you too.” You spoke. “And I’m sorry.” You added. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Anthony replied.

“Your mama might think we have run off and abandoned our own celebration.” You commented. “That does sound rather tempting.” Anthony teased.

You stood up and held your hand out for his, which he took with a smile. If you would have told Anthony Bridgerton that he was about to get married and to the love of his life, he would have called you mad. But here he was, and couldn’t have been happier.

#imagine #imagines #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton imagine #daphne bridgerton

[willbyersapologist]

st4 spoilers

“so you decided to be a douche to her [El] all day?”

“I wasn’t being a douche!”

“you were! you were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking. you basically sabotaged the whole day!”

it was his birthday, Michael. it was Will’s birthday. he didn’t sabotage anything, he was being the painfully selfless person he’s always been and yet you still have the audacity to say he “sabotaged the whole day”? fuck you, Mike. seriously.

#this gets my blood boiling #will has never in his life sabotaged anything #people have always been the ones to sabotage him #idc if mike forgot it was will’s birthday #he should’ve remembered #but Will being the most selfless person on this earth that he is didn’t even mention it #not once #y’all hate my boy sm and for what #stranger things #stranger things 4 #will byers #mike wheeler #byler #william byers #will the wise

[iamagodjkimcatholicicantsaythat]

My favorite relationship trope (and I mean irl just as much as fictionally) will forever be friends to lovers (not that I want to marry my friends XD ). I just think there is something beautiful about the building of friendship along side the blossoming of romantic feelings. 

There should be more than romantic love in a marriage...without friendship...I just don’t think a relationship is as likely to last. When people start with friendship, they create a bond of trust. Sure, maybe that takes time, but the pay off for when it finally becomes romantic * chef’s kiss *

Further, I have liked a few men and it has usually started as friendship. Sure, nothing came from them. But hey, at least I have some good friends that came out of it! Like it’s a win either way.

#friends to lovers #romance tropes #relationships #marriage #romance #tho i will say the most heartbreaking crush i have had was my best guy friend who is not my best guy friend anymore #i mean we are still good friends #but it's not the crush that affected the friendship it was his mistreatment of my one of my best friends and him using us as therapists ish #the only time this trope bothers me is when one guilts the other/is friends for only that reason/sabotages the others's relationships #i have been thinking of discerning marriage recently #but like also feel like i should build friendships and wait to discern with school and my career just starting #but like that will always be an excuse #but like why rush? #still not sure it's for me but just wanted to share some thoughts #i feel like a lot of people like never progress relationships with friends they are interested in or they rush into relationships #like where is the in between?

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Huh.

#doll #i think. he might be startin to let me in a little bit. #yea yea i know he could be fakin it but he's only ever done that when i've been really upset n on the verge of leavin #(assuming that was fake either but it was at least calculated) #& he'd have to be gettin desperate to start fakin vulnerability to this extent #i've been so completely infatuated for a couple of days now again that it wouldn't fit the pattern at all #especially with the way he's...sayin the kinda things that he knows played a part in me becomin more independent to begin with #tellin me i really should have reaper get me outta there if he gets out of control again n doesn't listen when i ask him to stop #even though he hates the thought of someone else protectin me. he can deal with it when it's somewhere he can't do it (like out here) but #if he's there but not doin it so someone else needs to? he looked. really upset about it. cause apparently that's his job #upset with himself not me (or reaper. who he only referred to as 'that guy' sgsgsgsg) #& talkin about how it's not fair the way the only people men like him can really be with are ones like me. cause if it's someone more like #them that fights back n doesn't put up with their shit it's just mutually toxic n everyone's secretly miserable #but when it's someone like me we get hurt so that they can get better. when we really should be w/ someone good n kind n safe #said i shouldn't be the one to pay the price for that. but i'm his 'only shot at getting better' n he doesn't wanna let me go #n it was. a lot. he's never talked about 'gettin better' before. just 'learning how to take care of me right' #but up til now he's always rejected the idea that he'd even need to get better. that there's anythin to heal. #i mean. i'm stayin as long as it looks like he's makin progress. or til he relapses enough times to burn me out completely n i go dormant #that was always the plan. i'm just slowly gettin better at keepin my distance when he's back to his old ways #i just.....really wish he'd stop self sabotaging n talkin about himself the way he does. like ok you wanna be bad then be bad but #stop actin like you're too far gone n all the shit you say about yourself is so built in you can't change em even if you want to #not with that attitude you can't! #spdrvent

[suguru-getos]

— satosugu as boyfriends —

it’s hard to decide who’s your bigger fan, satoru or suguru. they’re so in love with everything you do & are so supportive! it took a LOOONNNGG way though— let’s say you met them when they were still in school & so were you. though — you were not a sorcerer. satoru doesn’t mind, he hated non-sorcerers before for making him the reason he’s so looked upto. now thanks to suguru, he wants to protect them. suguru knew you much before than satoru, you were his neighbor after all. how else could you hangout with people who have such major power differences?

things changed after the riko incident— you could see the hatred that suguru slowly festered within him. there were days satoru came to suguru’s apartment to relax & play games with their other juniors like nanamin or haibara. these days you could hardly see the fun… suguru goes out and comes home & that’s all. you and him used to play together as kids and despite you reaching out, suguru was shutting down.

it was until he killed his own parents — that satoru took matters into his own hands. killed hundreds of people & adopted, some girls!!?!?!?? what was even happening!! to protect you, satoru shifted you to the gojo estate. it was simple really, you were a non-sorcerer & suguru would not really care about your life right now just to prove a point.

a year went by just processing what was happening. of course— spending a year with gojo satoru also meant that you two had become incredibly close. earlier, you were invited by suguru over because you & him had always played gaming consoles together. right now, it was totally different. you didn’t know satoru was so mature, and so kind when needed, although keeping his childishness still intact. you were the only one he could openly talk about suguru with. not even shoko — her & yaga had started calling him geto to detach maybe. yet it’s endearing to see such fondness in satoru’s eyes for his bestfriend aka almost lover aka what could have been.

long story short— suguru could not kill you. it’s sickening to think he could do so with his parents but after a year or two when he finally went to the gojo estate having known your whereabouts & missing the chaste peck he stole when things were alright. he cried. hugging you tenderly. expressing how he thinks he shouldn’t have been high on adrenaline that day & did what he did… he wants people like satoru to suffer less. he wants to do something ‼️

it takes a while for suguru to start healing, no one suspects that the strongest sorcerer satoru gojo had secretly kept his best friend in the gojo estate along with his almost girlfriend. :33 even the girls are present with megumi and tsumiki & despite their contrasting personalities— things have seemed to settle for once.

you knew suguru liked to cook so you were now greeted by him preparing you the sweetest ever breakfast in bed, meanwhile satoru insisted you sleep with him (to protect you) :3 yeah as ifff 💁🏻‍♀️ man was too shy to make the first move just yet because you had been trusting him so good. afraid to fuck up. though when you agree? oh he is out of this world. suguru is happy too, in a way he also gets to spoil satoru like this.

satoru uses his old money to ensure you three go on trips at least once every 2-3 weeks. the recent one that you remember is paris. for new years !! it was beautiful to confess your love for each other and finally officially start dating. you were spoiled by insanely hot balcony sex that day. ;)

suguru has improved & also started honing his skills. though during one of the much intimate conversations, you had asked him to trust you enough to come home to after swallowing the sabotaging negativity of a curse & to let you kiss it away. <3 you trust him to follow through with it.

suguru can get especially testy when you’re around your period and satoru decides to mess with your mood. normally, satoru’s teasing is ignored but during those days he gets smacked from sugu. :3 satoru just wants your mood to be better :(( not in the same sense as suguru perhaps. so satoru takes on the role of your sugar daddy as usual. getting you your favorite snackies and stuff.

there is no power dynamic as such between the two of them. really— they’re just equals and you like that despite being in a relationship, satosugu can be switches to each other and daddy doms to you as always.

satoru was the first one who discovered that making you feel smaller, would regress you up a little. you’d cutely pout & get subby and babytalking to you during that rare occaision would actually get him you in the form of putty in his hands. so satosugu are mostly like “let daddy handle it sweetness.” / “oh no you’re too small for that, give me.” / “no baby you can’t reach there, let daddy help.” and ugh it makes you so fucking submissive for them they love that & YOU love that😩

satoru and suguru together decided to get you another cat which would be a cute little brother for your pet. they are such good pet fathers you often wonder how good they’d be to kids — oh wait, 😏 you have their adopted babies to witness that first hand too! how lucky! 🍀

nsfw hcs later alligator i’d elaborate on this more later too! enjoy my word vomit besties 👯‍♀️ send me jjk askies 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you!

#gojo satoru #geto suguru #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #stsg #satosugu hcs #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satosugu fluff #satosugu comfort #gojo imagines #geto imagines

[xveenusx]

And Yet..

Paring(s): jj maybank x fem!reader

Summary: two people who should be together simply can't find their way. In other words, JJ can't let himself be loved and can't let her go.

Author's note: This one is brutal so prepare yourselves. Realistically, JJ would totally self sabotage any chance of happiness because he can't handle how it makes him feel so that's exactly what this is. Thank you for all the feedback on 3 seconds! If you like when it hurts, then this is for you!

Part 1: Three Seconds

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

He left.

It’d been hours and none of us knew where JJ went, only that he left. While JJ storming off was a normal feat, he always came back.

Now normally, I would have been looking for him, knowing exactly where to look. I’d find him and we’d avoid everyone until he felt like he was ready. This time was different. He never looked at me the way he did today.

A look of pure betrayal.

John B had gone MIA with Sarah while Pope and Kie were handling everything we needed to look for the gold. Me? I was trying to find a way to cope with the sudden JJ sized gap in my life.

It was brutal trying to get through the entire day without collapsing. Everything felt dull. I decided going home and hiding out in my room was the only option. It spared me the looks of concern from our friends and gave me the freedom to cry.

My room felt abnormally empty and cold. My stomach rolled as JJ’s words played in a brutal loop. I crawled into my bed where I curled into myself tightly, hugging my knees to my chest to create some type of pressure.

He’ll come back. He always comes back.

I jolted awake to pounding on my window.

“-wake up. He needs you. It’s bad oh my god it’s really bad.”

Scrambling off the bed, I pushed the curtains aside to see Kie’s panicked face. “Kie, what’s going on?”

Her face filled with relief as she pulled me into her. “We need to get to the chateau now. He’s not making any sense and bought all of this stuff.”

Nausea rolled in my stomach.

“JJ-“

She cuts me off. “He needs you.”

I left the house in seconds, hopped into the Hayward truck and we took off. I nibbled on my nails, glancing at Kiara in the drivers seat. Her face was painted with worry and her leg bopped up and down displaying her nervous energy.

Kie moved one hand from the steering wheel and threaded our hands together, squeezing tightly.

Pulling up to the chateau, I see LED lights tangled up on the trees, shining lights reflecting on the yard. How was there power? The hurricane had taken everything out.

Before I could figure it out, I heard a commotion that drifted up the drive way.

“Where is she? You said Kie was getting her.”

My heart jumped to my throat. I hold onto Kiara tighter as we move toward the raised voices.

Something twisted in my chest as I took in the hot tub and lights suddenly decorating John B’s yard.

JJ is shouting at Pope now, slurring his words slightly, before taking a pull of the champagne he clutched in his hand.

“Look man, she’s here. She’s here, JJ. Calm down.” Pope announced, pointing in our direction, before placing his hands around his head and taking a deep breath.

Awareness ran through me. JJ turned his body to face me, his gaze flicked to mine.

He said nothing yet his eyes said everything. There was an openness that seemed to make him vulnerable.

“You came.”

A tug deep in my chest urged me to move closer. “You asked.”

“Okay, now that she’s here. What did you do, JJ? Where did all this come from?” Pope asked, but we all knew the answer.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, ya hear?” JJ laughed, the aviator sunglasses slipping down slightly. His blonde hair slick with water stuck to his forehead as he messily poured champagne into a glass. “Salud!”

Pope let out a noise of disbelief, “How much did this cost?”

“Uh, pretty much all of it.”

I moved around, taking in the inflatable floaties that filled up the yard, while biting the inside of my cheek. He spent all of the money.

“Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?”

I tuned out their arguing. There was a reason he acted out and bought all of this pointless shit but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He knew. He knew he needed to pay for restitution.

A blanket of dread covered my body like an old blanket as the consequences of JJ’s actions finally settled in. Another sense of dread hit when I knew I wouldn’t leave him.

“You could have paid for restitution or better yet, helped us buy supplies.” Pope said, shaking his head in clear frustration.

They weren’t seeing this for what it was. Something was wrong. Yes, he was reckless and rash but like I said before, most of the time he does those things because something happened.

“Okay Pope. Well, I didn’t do that. I got a hot tub for my friends,” JJ choked out, “I got a hot tub for my friends. Screw that, I got a hot tub for my family.”

“JJ, what the hell?” Kie whispered.

Something in her voice made me turn back around quickly and that’s when I saw it.

JJ stood at the center of the hot tub, one hand clutching the champagne bottle while the other hung loosely at his side. His gold necklace moving back and forth shining under the lights, but that’s not what caught my eye.

What caught my eye was the purple and blue bruises that littered his chest and ribs. A high pitched ringing filled my ears as my body felt like it began to float.

This. This was the reason he spent all the money.

My hand covers my mouth as I let out a choked sound.

Hearing the noise, JJ turns to me, his face entirely shattered, tears causing the crystal blue orbs to shine.

“Do you see what I did? Look what I did for you,” He cried out as he held out his arms, staring at me with such vulnerability I could feel my knees start to buckle.

Tears freely began to fall from my face as I took inventory of just how many bruises covered his body.

“No, stop being so emotional. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

My feet moved on their own accord. Fully dressed, I threw one leg over then the other ignoring the burning from the heat of the water.

He reached for me the moment my body hit the water just as my arms circled around his neck. JJ curled his body into me, the champagne bottle forgotten, his arms circling around my waist digging into my lower back, clutching me like a life line.

My legs knocked together as the adrenaline and helplessness kicked in. I began counting in my head my breaths because I knew in this moment, I couldn’t afford to break down.

Not when he was broken beyond belief.

My fingers threaded themselves into his sun-kissed locks, brushing from the nape of his neck to the top of his head and back again. I pressed my lips onto his head, not letting my grip loosen for one second.

“I love you.” I murmured over and over again as sobs wracked his body, his head in my chest soaking my shirt with his tears. “I got you, it’s okay. I’m here, Jayj.”

I glanced up helplessly and see Pope and Kie staring at us, both of them clearly distraught.

I beckon them over with a nod in my head and instantly JJ and I are covered in warmth. Their arms wrapping around us both, whispering words of love to him.

We stayed like that until our skin got pruny, not wanting to move until he was ready.

When the time did come, I could tell by the way his grip on my waist loosened and his sobs quieted down. Brushing the hair out of his face, I brought my face close to his, “You ready to get out now?”

JJ nodded.

“Kie, can you set out some of John b’s clothes?” I asked her, moving to get out. She nodded and pope followed her inside.

JJ followed closely behind me. His fingers laced with mine, trembling slightly as the night air bit at our soaked bodies.

Shuffling into the chateau, our friends were sprawled out on the couch with Kie strumming away at the ukulele.

“I left the clothes in the spare.” Pope said, his eyes locked on JJ.

I shot him a thankful smile, “Thanks, Pope.”

Once we were in the room, I shut the door as JJ shimmed out of his shorts. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I grabbed the towel from the bed and began to dry him.

I could feel his intense gaze on my face the entire time. Biting back a smile, I whispered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Please.”

“I really like the hot tub.”

JJ tilted his head back and let out a surprised laugh. The sound of his familiar laugh caused a wave of warmth to crash over me, causing a zoo of butterflies to swarm my stomach.

“It is a pretty sick tub, isn’t it?” He smiled.

“It is. Very kooky of you.”

He narrowed his red rimmed eyes at me, “Take that back.”

I couldn’t have his my grin even if I tried.

“JJ the kook? I could see that.”

He sends me a cheeky smile in return. Bringing my attention back to the task at hand, I drag the towel along his shoulders before heading towards his chest. My hand stalled slightly as I saw how angry the bruises were, the hue of the purple and blue causing my stomach to churn.

My head moved carefully as I pressed my lips softly along each bruise, fluttering my eyes shut. I feel familiar rough hands tangling themselves in my hair and he lets out a sharp breath.

Opening my eyes, he tilted my head back with his fingers gripped the nape of my neck. A storm brewed in the crystal blue eyes, flicking between every emotion.

His thumb slowly drew my bottom lip down causing his eyes to darken with each passing second,” Thank you.”

Tremors wracked my body at how close we were, our breaths intertwined filtering into my bloodstream.

JJ shifted forward allowing his lips to softly brush mine. The moment my lips parted, he pressed his again almost like he was inhaling my every breath.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead on mine and repeated, “Thank you.”

“I got you. I’ll let you change-“ My words got cut off as he grabbed my arm to stop me in my tracks.

“Stay.”

And so I did.

_______________

I blinked at the alarm clock that read 3 a.m and slowly rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes. I could hear the sound of the skeeters buzzing outside the chateau and felt a strange sense of calm at the quiet.

Reaching toward the other side of the bed , my hands were met with empty cold sheets. He was gone.

I closed my eyes tightly and took in a deep breath as I willed for this nightmare to go away. We still had a lot to work through, but I thought after last night, he finally understood how fucking in deep I was. I was all in, completely and utterly in love with him. It’s always been him.

Pushing my body up, I slowly bring the sheet up to my chest covering my naked body from the cold. A sharp tinge of fear hit my chest as I noticed a presence at the end of the bed that was quickly replaced with an immense sense of relief.

JJ sat on the edge of the bed with his bare back facing me, his elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. A small smile played my lips as I shuffled over, my hands slowly trailing themselves over his shoulders and pressed my lips softly against his shoulder blade.

“Can’t sleep?”

His shoulders tensed the minute my lips touched his body. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Confusion filled every fiber of my being as I finally took him in. I could feel the weak stitches that held my heart together suddenly begin to tear.

I opened my mouth and closed it. The backs of my eyes burned as I stared at the side of his face, the face that I spent hours admiring, that refused to even look at me.

“I thought after last night-“

JJ shook his head in disgust and let out a dry breath, roughly tugging at the messy strands on his head.

“We fucked. It’s not like that’s something we’ve never done before. It doesn’t change anything.”

Like I said before, I understand him. I know him and I know exactly what he’s doing. That doesn’t stop every part of me from feeling like I had just gotten kicked in the chest.

“JJ, please don’t do this.” I inhaled a shaky breath as I clutched the sheer tighter to my chest, almost like it was an armor against his cruel words, words that I knew came from a place of panic. Yet, it hurt just the same.

“Do what,” JJ said, getting up from the bed to face me, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “You made it clear what side you were on and it wasn’t mine.”

“Stop twisting what happened. You forget that I know you, JJ. I know you,” I stood on my shaky feet, the sheets wrapped around my body. “You think I dont know why your treating me this way. You’re dad doesn’t decide who you are.”

Desperation burned in my blood as I once again tried to grasp at straws. He was always finding excuses to run from me and each and every time, JJ took a piece of me with him.

“Shut up. I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“You have no idea how special you are do you? How easy you are to love?” It was an honest question, one that seemed to anger him if the clenching of his fists was any indication.

“Stop-“

I cut him off. “Because you are. Special, I mean.”

JJ said nothing. His gaze met mine, and the blue eyes I thought matched the ocean perfectly, showed a battle of emotions.

I took the opportunity to move closer to him, fighting the urge to curl up and cry at the look of utter confusion on his face.

Luke had successfully beat it into him that he was worthless, useless, and would never amount to anything. This, this look on his face was why I stayed.

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know the effect he had on people, on me.

My fingers trembled slightly as I reached to touch the bracelets that decorated his wrist. All of them being gifts from me.

“You’re fiercely loyal to the people you love. The family that you chose for yourself. It’s almost frustrating how you don’t see it,” I muttered, tilting my head up to search his eyes. “I mean, fuck JJ, you took the fall for Pope because you didn’t want his future to be ruined. You went to jail and now you’re on probation.”

“Please, stop.” His plead was weak at best.

My fingers danced along his jaw, my voice wavering slightly at the tightness in my chest. “You sat with my everyday during summer school so I wouldn’t be myself. No one does that, JJ. Especially not here.”

He had to know I was telling the truth.

“So please, listen to me when I tell you that loving you has been the easy thing I’ve ever done.”

Despite the immense beating my poor heart has taken, it still beats with a naive sense of hope.

Hope that sky rocketed when JJ reached forward to twirl a strand of my hair in between his fingers, almost as though he was memorizing how it felt.

“Such pretty little words.” He hummed. “How many other guys have you told that too?”

I recoiled back in shock.

“Pretty little words won’t get you anywhere. You wanna fuck, I’m down. But that’s not gonna stop me from mackin’ on other chicks.”

Then he dropped the strand of my hair, along with every hope that he could love me.

I chose to then focus on my anger that slowly began to bubble to the surface.

“Like who? Your gonna start mackin’ on Kie?” I launched the question at him, my voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Maybe. At least she knows when to leave.”

“Stop talking to me like that,” My voice broke at the end, the burning in my eyes getting too hard to ignore. “You’re hurting me.”

All I could do was stare.

Here I stood, heart bleeding, begging a broken boy to love me back. And maybe that wasn’t fair for me to ask, maybe it was too much but a large part of me thought he felt something. Even if it was a fraction of what I felt for him because at least it was something.

Anything.

“You’re never going to let me love you, are you?” I ignored the sharp stab in my stomach as I finally said the question I already knew the answer to.

JJ’s head snapped up in shock at my question. “I never asked for you to love me.”

“You showed up to my window every night because you didn’t want to go home. You hold my hand, you kiss me, you fuck me. You come to me when you can’t fucking sleep. You sleep in my bed. You teach me to surf and take me everywhere with you. You ask for my advice and god forbid I don’t answer the phone, you have a melt down.” I was shouting at that point, my voice loud enough to wake up our friends who were sleeping in the living room but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“You need me, I’m there. You got arrested, I bail you out. You get in a fight, I clean you up. JJ, you showed up in my life and surrounded me. You’re fucking everywhere. How could you not expect me to fall in love with you when you do these things?”

The laugh I let out was one of a broken girl, one who had completely lost herself in a wave of chaos known as JJ Maybank.

The door was right there. And yet, I couldn't get my feet to move.

“Because I don’t fucking understand it, okay? Because I’ve never had the luxury of someone looking at me the way you do and it makes me physically fucking sick.” JJ took several strides until he was pressed up firmly against me, his fingers threading themselves into the nape of my neck.

“The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m suffocating, don’t you get that? And yet, I can’t fucking thinking straight when you’re not by me.” He choked out, his face was white with panic.

I could feel myself start to crumble at his words. Welcome to the club. “Yesterday, you said I wasn't enough for you.”

JJ nodded, his eyes staring straight into me with such intensity I had to swallow.

“You know why I said it. You know how I get. The way you look at me,” He swears pounding his hand against the wall,” Fuck the way you look at me. You make me feel like I can be a better person, that I have the potential to do something great.”

“Because you can-“

“No I fucking can’t. You give me this hope that I can be better and then something happens to remind me that I can’t and it crushes me. It fucking wrecks me.”

I roughly wiped the tears that blurred my vision and asked, “So what are you saying?”

The silence caused the anticipation of his answer to intensify, making breathing almost impossible.

“Sometimes, being with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart shattering for the last time.

“Then you have to let me go.”

He shook his head,”Thats not what I want.”

“Let me go, JJ. If not for you, then for me because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You haven’t even been able to say it back. You completely own me, every thought I have is about you.”

“You own ME.” JJ shouted, his hands in his hair tugging it in anger. “And it completely terrifies me and then I say the first thing I can to make the fear go away just so I can get a moment of peace. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

In a way, I couldn’t really be angry with him.

No one’s every really described just how dangerous loving someone can be. How they consume every part of you until there’s nothing left. Until suddenly, you can only breathe when you’re around them. When your very mood depends on the expression of their face. The pure feeling of ecstasy that covers your body in a layer of electricity the moment you’re around them and they look at you.

“You love me,” At my words, JJ looked almost relieved, like he finally understood why he felt so many things at once,” but you can’t let yourself love me.”

And yet, despite this revelation, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.

A tortured look passed his face as he pressed his back against the wall and slowly slid down.

“You need to let me go because I love you to the point that I cant bring myself to leave. So if you don’t want me, if you can’t be with me then do this for me. If you don’t, I’m going to keep giving you every piece of me until there’s nothing left. “

I guess you never truly understand until it happens. Until you get physically ill when they’re upset or filled with warmth when you see them tilt their head back and laugh. When you see them and suddenly the world is just a little less overwhelming, bearable even.

When every fiber of your being is tuned into one person.

Gripping the sheet tighter, I moved in between his legs and settle myself on the floor. The moment I did, JJ engulfed me in his embrace. His presence soaked through my skin leaving the intoxicated feeling in its wake.

“I can’t,” He shook his head fervently, “ I can’t do that.”

I understood him, because I couldn’t either.

“What are we going to do, Jayj?”

JJ pressed his face against my throat, “I don’t know.”

We weren’t okay, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Nothing had been solved and yet, we sat on the floor wrapped in each others embrace.

So I said the only thing I knew to be true and give him yet another piece of me, “I love you.”

“I know.”

There we were. Two souls irrevocably intertwined in a mass of love and hate that were broken beyond recognition. Neither of us being able to leave the other.

And yet, all I could focus on was his inability to say he loved me back.

_____________________

Tags for all those who requested: @trickylittlewitch @maybankslover @bcon24 @chaoticbisous @ifilwtmfc @dullsocietyy @mad-die45 @stuffyownswrld @kaylinfayezink @theywantedplayer

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank angst #rudy pankow #rudy pankow smut #obx #obx smut #obx fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks imagine #jj maybank imagine #outer banks smut #jj maybank masterlist #obx3 #outerbanks imagines

[saulbaby]

Howard is chucks Jesse send tweet

#i really didnt feel this vibe originally when i watched it #but chuck is awful to everybody #and hea manipulating howard so much like #howard is reprimanding kim for aomething that jimmy did and chucks just staring at him #like chuck is essentially howards fathers friend and business partner and howard is trying to fi his fathers role in the firm #howard respects chuck SO MUCH and chuck knows that and hes been using that to like #belittle and sabotage his brother so he wouldnt have to #i dont think he cares about howard either i dont think chuck is a character that values personal connections very much #i think he wishes he does #but hes much more dedicated to concepts and ideas #like the law as a whole or how he tries to live like a classy rich guy while all his windows are covered in foil #like how he tells jimmy that everybody deserves a vigorous defense but then almost leaves jimmy without one in cicero bc of his grudge #and he has high standards for how jimmy has to treat people but doesnt really meet those himself #just bc hes manipulating and hurting fewer people less obviously #i think the mcgill boys have. a lot more in common than they think they do #but those commonalities are so differently directed fhat they cant even see it #jimmy sees social structures as a suggestion and his relationships as whats always most important and he schemes to accomodate that #chuck cares more about social structures and his relationship and schemes to keep them safe from jimmy #i like chuck more at the end of these tags than i did when i started #but still #i dont like the way hes hurting my sweet jimmy #like howar is our villain who did nothing wrong n i think chuck is the real villain who we still sympathize a lot with bc hes so vulnerable

[sunflowersteves]

come and get your love || j.m.

chapter one of ain’t no sunshine

pairing || joel miller x f!sunshine!reader

summary || someone across the Tipsy Bison had their hand on you all night. how long will Joel Miller take to do something about it?

author's note || first part of the series! all of the chapters can be read as a stand alone, but they do go in order of a time line. hope you all enjoy &lt;3 4.1k words

warnings || jealousy, insecurities, angst, toxic people, possessiveness, fluff, 10 year age gap (joel is 51), SMUT, praise kink, oral sex (f rec), cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, [18+ only]

series masterlist || masterlist

Hail, with it, baby, 'cause you're fine And you're mine, and you look so divine

Joel’s eyes lingered on your form from across the bustling bar. It was in the middle of a Wyoming summer, so you wore a pretty light blue sundress. You could feel the cool breeze brush up against your thighs and the sun beating down on your skin just from the dusty windows. 

You came home one day, telling Joel and Ellie that you traded some old tactical pants for the frilly dress. Joel choked on his morning coffee when he caught a glimpse—Ellie just laughed and laughed. And now, you looked unbelievably perfect, all while you fluttered around the chairs and tables in the Tipsy Bison, talking with friends and newcomers. 

Although, his soft, love-sick eyes started to harden as they continued to follow you. 

The mere sight of someone flirting with you—a shoulder leaning on a support pole with sparkling eyes—was going to send his old bones into a coma. He was sure of it. Joel's chest started to burn from a sizzling rage that crept up to his cheeks. 

You were as friendly as you could be with a beer in your hand and a laugh escaping your lips. He knew you were oblivious to the flirting. You always have been. 

A couple of years ago, along the endless roads of traveling to get Ellie where she needed to go, Joel had been trying to get your attention for weeks, despite his damn self-sabotage that forced himself to avoid you in the previous months before. Ellie saw through it, though. Tommy saw it too. Hell, even Tess saw through it. The one person who had not seen just how much Joel was infatuated and hopelessly in love with you was, well, you. 

He thought that it was because he was rough and unrestrained. Joel was a jagged edge of a rock that cut deep into anyone that came near him. He thought you might not want to be with him and all of his baggage.

You were the exact polar opposite of him. You were a ray of sunshine—a burst of fresh air that knocked the breath out of his lungs. You could handle yourself out there in the depths of survival. He did not doubt that, but you were still warmhearted and sweet. You were what the rest of the world seemed to have forgotten.

Turns out, though, he couldn't have been more wrong. 

Your mind and body were washed over with every essence of Joel. When his hand was on your back to gently guide you through rugged terrain or when you instinctively grabbed onto his upper arm when a lone stranger bumped into your third-person party—your mind becomes blank.

The only thing, you said when you finally confessed, you could think about was Joel. Your body would freeze, and time would slow, your heart the only exception as it beats so rapidly you thought it might burst. So, in the end, Joel finds himself elated with pride and pure adoration that he was able to make you feel so free—so full of love.

“Are you gonna do something? Or are you just going to sit here and be ‘old-man’ sad?” 

Joel snapped out of his daze, turning his head toward Ellie. She had her eyebrow raised, with a hand on a freshly opened beer bottle. 

“Gimme that.” He muttered under his breath and swiped the bottle away from her. She let out a small, “Hey! You dick!” before huffing in frustration. “You ain’t even eighteen yet.” He slid the bottle over to Maria, who nodded back to Joel. “I’m almost eighteen!”

He huffed, ignoring Ellie’s comment. “And no. She’s got it handled.” 

You were probably the friendliest, kindest person that Ellie had ever met—especially in this shitty, fucked up world. Along the dusty gravel roads of travel, you would hold her hand and swing back and forth as Joel trailed not far behind. At night, you would shuffle your sleeping bag closer to hers, so you could laugh and giggle at her pun book until falling into a distant slumber. In the mornings, when you and Joel were keeping watch, and a lone stranger would interrupt your three-person party, you jumped in front of Ellie and pointed your shotgun at the intruder. You turned quickly, if not instantly, into a mother figure for her. 

So, Ellie knows that you have got it far from handled. She knows you are completely unsuspecting of the person that was practically throwing himself on top of you. 

“Yeah, you are so full of shit.”

Now, in your defense of the flirting, everyone in Jackson knew not to make a move on you. It has been established from the very beginning that you and Joel are made for each other. All you could ever see was each other. Always. 

So, at the end of things, when someone walked up to you with a bright smile and a gleam in their eyes that screamed “please fuck me,” you didn’t think anything of it. Your mind was no doubt in a Joel Miller trance—thoughts rolling over one another about the plains of his skin and the gruff feeling of his patchy beard on your fingertips. But when a newcomer comes along in the commune and gets introduced to everybody, that’s when they try to make their mark on you. 

“She’s fine—”

“You sure, Joel?” His eyes flickered back towards you and saw the newcomer squeeze your forearm. You think nothing of it and crack another joke at who you thought was a new friend, causing them to throw their head back in very exaggerated laughter. 

And now, Joel wasn’t sure at all—not with the bubbled-up feeling that wrapped around his chest and sunk down into his stomach. He grunted out in response to Ellie, who rolled her eyes at his demeanor. Yeah, he was far from sure. 

“Go say something, Grandpa—”

He raised his eyebrow, “hey—”

“Ellie’s right, you know.” Joel’s head whipped around at Tommy’s voice. “She doesn’t even know the guy’s flirting. She’s too trustin’ of people.” 

He gave his older brother a little smile—an all too knowing teasing smile. Joel didn’t say anything, just downing the rest of his whiskey. The ice clunked against the glass, and the two next to him just watched with anticipation. 

“Your brooding is scaring the customers away. Go say somethin’, Joel.”

He ponders for just a moment—mind circling around all of the different thoughts in his brain. He knows you are just fine. He knows you wouldn’t ever do anything of the sort.

If you actually knew that the man was flirting with you, you would stop it immediately. You’re just kind. You just wanted to make friends. He wanted you to make friends in this little town you had learned to love.

Before Joel even knows it, though, he's getting up from the stool. His own heart had taken over his body and ran home with it. He could just barely hear Ellie cheer for the old man to do something. 

His boots were heavy as he walked across the bar, his wrinkled eyes hardening with every step. His heart squeezed at the pure sight of you—a smile almost turning his frown up. That is until the squeezing of his other thoughts from the man right in front of you suffocated his chest. 

“Joel!” 

God, you sounded so sweet. Your eyes lit up so bright he thought he might be blinded. Whatever you were talking about with your new friend, it completely went out the window when you heard the stomps of his boots. 

“Hi, darlin’.” 

His hand ghosted the small of your back, and it almost caused you to shiver. You looked up at him with a pretty smile, opening your mouth to let him in on the conversation. “We were just talking about patrols. I was saying how we saw that bear with the three cubs the other day! and—”

“Can we help you?” The man, you knew as Brad, scowled right up at Joel for interrupting the conversation the two of you were having earlier. Oh, Joel did not like Brad. The scrunch of his nose as he tried to challenge Joel—as if you were a possession—was kicking up a deep rage in his chest. 

Joel opened his mouth to respond but was met with a very enthusiastic smile from you. You looked so excited. “This is Joel! He’s my—”

Brad rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s great. Could he leave now?”

Joel’s back stretched at the complete disrespect. He could handle people being mean to him just fine. When it comes to you, however, he wouldn’t tolerate anything of the sort. You were the thread that kept Ellie and Joel sane with your homemade gifts and fluttering smile. No one was going to ruin that on his watch. 

Joel watched as your bright, smiling face fell.

“Oh.” 

You felt your heart deflate from being interrupted again. It took a lot for someone to build you down, and Brad had managed to do it in no time. You thought you had made a new friend to hang out with. You thought you were finally getting along with someone in Jackson. 

Watching your face fall made something click in Joel’s head. His burning glare never left Brad’s face as he continued to run his mouth about Joel ‘needing to leave’ or something like that. This is why he hated newcomers. They think they could take advantage of your kind gestures and bring you down with them. 

Brad looked at you and then Joel—as if something finally fits in his head. He clicked his tongue, “I have been trying to get you home all night. Don’t tell me you were with him the whole time?”

“What?”

You looked bewildered at the insinuation of ever getting with Brad—let alone anyone that isn’t Joel. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

If Joel wasn’t preoccupied with watching Bradley’s every move, he would’ve snorted at your change in demeanor. You could be the biggest angel there is, but there is no doubt a fire lit right inside of you.

“I have been here with you all fucking night. You think I’d waste my time talking about shitty flowers with you?” His lips curled into a sniveling smirk.

Your hand clenched by your side but was caught as Brad’s hand went to tighten itself around your wrist. You tried to wriggle your way out of his grip, but it felt too firm. “Why don’t you ditch the old man and come with me, sunshine.”

Joel saw the hand on your wrist—the bruising grip he had on you. He saw the sickly, lust-filled eyes that the man was giving you. He knew you could handle yourself. You could throw this random man over your shoulder like he was nothing. 

But something struck him even deeper.

Sunshine.

That was what Joel called you in the secret comfort of whispered feelings. It was what Joel called you when you were badly injured, and he needed to disinfect the wound. The first time it popped into his head was when you were dancing around with Ellie underneath the morning sun. The cute nickname just stuck, and it was his.

Only his. 

Joel snapped in an instant. The long years of survival worked quickly in his brain. He bunched up Brad’s collar and shoved him hard against the wooden pole—jolting his hand from your wrist. “Get your fucking hands off of her.”

You gasped at the lightning speed of Joel’s hand on Brad’s chest, but you weren’t too phased. Adrenaline shot through your chest and spread down to your toes—eyes locking on Joel’s crinkled brows and hard-set glare. 

“Yeah? The fuck you gonna do?” Brad spat.

The bar went silent at the altercation, eyes darting to watch the scene play out. You didn’t pay any attention, though. Your eyes were on Joel. Just Joel.

Brad squirms a bit underneath Joel’s stare, but he seems to be trying to remain tough. Joel’s grip never wavered and almost shoved him further into the pole. 

“If you ever touch her again, I’ll break your fuckin’ arms.” His accent slurred together with each click of his tongue. 

You could feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you could feel it radiate off of his clenched fist. Joel squeezed even tighter against his neck, almost suffocating some of the air in Brad’s throat. He then let out a wheeze, eyes widening at just how serious Joel Miller can be. 

“You got it?” Brad’s eyes squinted at Joel before looking into the crowd around him. Terrified of all the stares and the overwhelming frown on people’s faces—and quite frankly, Joel—Brad finally backs off. 

“Got it.” He said under his breath with a slight cough. Joel very slowly let go of his collar in caution of the man. Brad just nodded, now refusing to make eye contact with the two of you, before sauntering off out of the bar.

Not far behind, Tommy and Maria were alert and watched Brad’s every movement. They had both of your backs as soon as they saw Joel shove him into the pole. Even Ellie was on high alert, which almost caused her to grab the knife in her pocket. 

Joel turned to you in an instant. His eyes glossed over your entire form, grasping every single detail to make sure you were okay. His eyes stopped at the slight tear in your favorite dress. He pursed his lips in annoyance, but then his eyes locked onto your wrist. 

“C’mon. I need to see your wrist.”

═ ∘◦❦◦∘ ═

He took you into the back where the aging room was—old barrels full of whiskey and rum stacked high along the walls. He sat you down on a wooden table and went to go find some supplies. 

You sat there, feeling like you were in trouble. Joel hadn’t said a word, and your mind was starting to race at the possibilities of what he was thinking. While it wasn’t abnormal for Joel to act like this, you knew something wasn’t right.

You could see it in his calculating eyes and furrowed eyebrows—the harsh smile lines on his cheeks almost seemed deeper. You could see it in the way that his hand trembled when he moved some papers to the other end of the table.

You felt stupid for not seeing that Brad was flirting with you. God, you felt so dumb. You really thought that you were making a new friend. You felt even dumber that you couldn’t see the hostility in his eyes, either.

What was Joel thinking? Did he hate you? You knew you mistake people’s flirty gestures for friendly acts way too often.

Did it hurt him? Tears started to form on your lash line, and that sunken feeling in your chest only deepened. 

Joel finally came back with a pack of ice and a little box of first aid. He wrapped a rag around the ice so it wouldn’t burn your skin. 

“Here.” He gently placed it onto your skin, and you went to hold it down. You feel your eyebrow twitch in a cringe at the already bruised surface. You hear Joel digging through the kit in haste—no doubt trying to find some kind of ointment.

You closed your eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down at the thought that Joel had to sit here and take care of you, all while you fucked everything up. 

“I’m sorry.”

Joel’s rummaging through the first aid abruptly stopped. He turned to you with confused furrowed brows, but then his eyes widened. He saw your glossy eyes as you tried to avoid his stare. He saw the way your lip slightly wobbled while you tried to hide your emotions.

“It’s all my fault.” 

You said barely under a whisper, but you were on the side of his good ear. He heard you, and damn, his heart couldn’t have been more crushed. You didn’t do a single thing wrong, and yet you blamed yourself.

“It ain’t your fault. None of it was your fault.” He could tell, though, by the look in your eye that you weren’t convinced. He goes to open his mouth, but you beat him to the punch.

“But I should have known!” You flexed out your hand to emphasize the situation. “I should have said something or got the fucking hint!”

You let out a fast breath, eyes darting across the wood floor. His eyes flickered to the ice pack you set back on the table. “I should—I shouldn’t have been so nice! Maybe I could be less—”

Joel snapped back at the realization of what you were going to say. “Don’t you dare.” His hand instinctively lays on top of your thigh. “Don’t you ever change for people like him.”

“But I–” His hand rested so soft on your cheek, and whatever you were going to say died on your tongue. He was inches away from you now, your chests almost touching together. 

“I know my words are shit, but you are everything, darlin’. You are the kindest and brightest person that I’ve ever known.” He finally rested his forehead against yours. “Don’t you even change for me, darlin’.”

You nodded against his forehead with a small smile on your face. You knew he was right. Of course, he was right. Brad was the shithole, not you. 

He leaned in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light as you felt the scruff of his beard against your cheeks. He licks into your mouth, and you find yourself pulling him in closer from his flannel collar. 

His tongue swirled through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years, but pure love was something he still couldn’t get used to. He needed to feel you—needed to touch you. After the searing memory of Brad’s hand on your wrist, he needed to be inside of you.

“Sweet girl,” he almost purred into your mouth, “need you.” 

You nodded into his lips. A whine escaping them seemed to be the only thing that your brain could come up with. In a mere matter of seconds, Joel was able to turn you into a puddle. 

“Need to hear it, darlin’.”

You don’t miss a beat. “Need you, Joel. Please—”

He bunches up the silky dress, and his eyes shine bright as he sees your pretty laced panties. They were dark—a black onyx—that made Joel want to drool. They rested so well on your hips—so tight. He knew there was a wet patch near your core, too.

His nimble fingers shoved your panties aside to dig—just a little—into your dripping folds. He groaned, rough and bold against the plains of your ear. “J-Joel—”

You knew by the slow, agonizing pace that his hands seemed to feel you in, Joel was going to fuck you stupid. He always got slow and steady when he knew he was going to take his sweet, sweet time. 

“Oh! Oh fuck,” the pads of his fingers move to the nub of your clit. They swirled in small circles, and your hands gripped his shoulders so tightly. Your jaw hangs slack as you feel the pleasure blossom through your stomach to your chest.

“That’s it. Yeah. Does that feel good, pretty girl?”

He was smirking, just a little. You could tell by the sound of his voice, but you see the way his lips slightly curled when your eyes flickered up to his.

“Feels so good, Joel—so—so good.” His other hand spread your legs a little wider for him, relishing in the soft pillows of your skin and curves. He gave your thigh a small squeeze before sinking onto his knees.

Your eyes were about to pop out of your head. “Joel—” You warned, honestly concerned about his knees, but the thought quickly left when his other hand shuffled your underwear down to your ankles. He dragged your hips forward so that your ass was hanging just barely off of the wobbly table. 

“Fuck. Look at you drippin’ for me.”

His eyes shined underneath the yellow-hazed lights. His head goes to dip into your folds, and he moans—sending a rough vibration to your folds. You tasted just the same—earthy and sour and so so sweet.

His hand dug into your thigh—the pad of his thumb was pressing deep into your skin. His tongue flicked and swirled to gather up that slick that dripped from your folds. He felt addicted to you—you tasted, felt, looked, and sounded so ethereal. 

“Oh, Joel—” He could have you on his tongue for the rest of his fucking life. The way you call out his name—hands desperately grabbing at his salt and peppered hair and whimpers leaving your lips. “F-Fuck, I–”

Your brain became even mushier with each flick and whirl of his tongue around your folds. “Can’t get enough of this pussy.” He gruffed.

His mouth moved to your swollen clit, and your hips involuntarily jumped—slightly closing around his head. He pried your thighs open with his rough, used hands before shoving them over his shoulders. 

You didn’t have time to react, though. Not when he was moving a finger to tease your folds. “Joel! Oh my god—” You could only whimper and shout his name. You moan, you gasp, and you whimpered even more. 

It’s all you could think about. Joel Joel Joel. He was all you ever seem to think about. 

His finger slid easily into your sopping cunt, and you moaned into the air. His tongue lapped and sucked against your swollen nub—finger simultaneously curling into you.

“Oh, Joel, I-I can’t—”

His mouth left you, only for a moment, but a whine escaped your lips.

“Gonna cum already, darlin’? Hmm?” He inserted another finger without warning, giving that even longer stretch of your walls. 

You gasped, nonsense mumbling from your tongue. He was sure you said his name in there somewhere. He felt his cock twitch at the sparkle in your eyes and the essence of ecstasy that stretched across your glistening, sweaty skin. His long, thick fingers fucked into over and over—tongue swirling across your pretty little clit.

“C’mon, cum for me. That’s it. You’re such a good girl—my good girl.” You hiccuped, head slung back as your walls continued to clench around his fingers. “You can do it, hmm? Cum on my mouth, sunshine.”

You gasped loudly—body short-circuiting and spasming as the orgasm washed over your entire body. Joel’s name was like a mantra stuck on your tongue. Your body felt white-hot and sticky as your juices flushed against Joel’s chin and your inner thighs. 

Sunshine. Sunshine. You heard that over and over again. He watched with those thick eyes as you came undone. And wow, you looked so pretty. Your gasps and moans, your body shuddering from the shattering pleasure that spreads up and down your body. He wants to remember moments like this instead of the dark ones. 

As you came down from your high, you looked down at Joel. Your strong legs pulled him in a bit closer, and you leaned down to press a kiss to his nose. He just looked up at you—no doubt he had the biggest heart eyes on you that anyone had ever seen. 

You started to laugh from the enormous high—cum running down your legs and the fact that not even fifteen minutes ago, you were hassled by another man. The whole situation seemed funny to you now. 

Joel cracked his own smile, just for you. He caressed your cheek and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “Let’s go home, sunshine.” 

You weren’t even sure he caught himself the second time when he called you that. It just flowed off of his tongue so easily.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile as wide as you could. You knew what that meant—what he was insinuating. A fire lit inside of your chest. Damn, you could never get used to the way Joel would make you feel.

He grumbled under his breath. “Shut up. I got it.”

Yeah, he definitely didn’t. He needed your help not two seconds later, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You were Joel’s. Joel was yours.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #smut #the last of us hbo #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show #joel miller x f!reader

[ataraxiaspainting]

The Chauffeur.

Yan Aventurine x F Reader.

Synopsis: Life has always made losers out of people like you. You dream even now that that could be changed. But can it really?

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, kidnapping, stalking, drugging, misogyny, abuse of power, and mentions of violence.

Word Count: 3.2k.

*~*~*~*

When thrust into a world filled with illusions of chance, one can only hope that change will soon arise.

The company, the appearances, the losers, the winners; nothing ever changes, not even the dreams that things will.

How you are treated is a gamble all on its own too, despite you wishing it were not so. Lady Luck has yet to smile upon you, but instead of gifting you with snake eyes, she gives you the utmost displeasure of being slapped, being threatened, or having your salary lowered. You sometimes wish she would just give you the lowest score on a physical die instead of an invisible one.

You wish she would have made you less appealing to unwanted stares, would have made you have a burned face that would scare off anyone as soon as they looked at you. Hell, even make you be an old woman begging for spare change. That would be a better existence than to live in this body, where you are forced to wave and smile and conceal the bruises and slap marks whenever they appear in a place not covered by your dress. Not that your dress covers anything.

You have three jobs in this casino. Your first one is to spin the wheel or make the letters visible after all the bets are placed and the speaker gives you the signal to do so. Your second one is to always look presentable, your boss’s definition of “best”. Appearances will bring in more onlookers, he said. Just get yourself all dolled up. Okay, toots?

You conform every time your clothes change in color, size, and pattern because after all, they could just replace you with someone more willing.

After all, you have your mouth to feed and your own back to clothe.

So, you endure not all of it, but most of it. You endure the times your assigned makeup artist has called you a whore for not letting him stay in your room during his breaks, the times the suited mascot of this place squeezed you a bit too tight when you were told to take a few photos with him. You pretend not to notice things like that, because if you start a conflict who knows what will happen?

The applause of onlookers is always paired up with lewd comments about your body instead of congratulations to the winner.

The heels you are paid to wear always manage to make you trip onto someone, or rely on some flirty stranger to help you walk to and fro. Your manager told you to grow your hair out when you first started working here, and when it finally reached the desired length he gave you very few options when it came to which hairstyle you wanted. If you remember correctly, it couldn’t have been more than four. All of them had curtain bangs and waves. There was even one, you think, that had something to do with bleaching.

You opted for the one that let you keep the most of your natural hair pattern, not that that was a lot. 

Your dresses always come with a slit to see one of your legs. Temptations bring in more dreams, and with dreams come people wanting to be big shots. That is what your boss said to you after you questioned your given work wardrobe. You did not want his glare and mocking laugh to be aimed at you any longer, so you nodded and went to change. He praised you for it later, but your brain protected itself by not remembering what he said.

All you can recall is the way you shuttered at him wrapping an arm around your bare shoulders,  a lit cigarette in his hand.

You don’t shutter as often anymore after he scowled and threatened to place it on your palm.

Your world is simpler than it was before when you were sleeping on the streets and given just barely enough to scrape by. You only have three jobs to do, but the third one holds the most importance. Sabotage the gamble. Never let them win unless they hold enough power that your boss permits you to stand back.

There have been very few instances of that happening, but they happen nonetheless. They are this casino’s equivalent of a blue moon. There are telltale signs before you are told of their status. Their clothes are always glittering like an invisible spotlight is on them. They always have guards, and people sticking to their arms like glue just itching for a taste. It is an even rarer sight to see one of them being chosen to be their partner for the night. You can tell when a person can buy you off with their proportion of pocket change. Not that anyone has, much to your gratitude.

This man is just like them. You can sense the ego dripping off of him, and can sense how much all those rings on his fingers cost.

This is the real deal. You can tell. That earring of his is probably worth twice that of all of your organs. That is being generous with the price you would most likely hold on the black market. In reality, perhaps thrice. That is not even going into his pink sunglasses, which have tiny gems stuck on the sides. 

He has a gun holster, you think, but the gun itself is nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps one of his men is holding it for him. Perhaps.

From the corner of your eye, you see your boss amongst the crowd, nodding slowly at you. He is sitting in a booth a bit more distanced from the others, three women on either side of him. Every time he sits there, it is your first signal that something is surely going to happen. Good or bad. This time it is good, and you will end the night with nothing less than a few thousand credits for playing your part well. Last time it was bad, and you ended up having so much more than a simple slap on the wrist.

He has three dice between his pointer and middle fingers. One green, one teal, and one dark blue. They are each twelve-sided from what you can see, but the sigils remain unseen by you. Maybe for the best, you think, you don’t want him to take up as much memory space as he already has.

All you want is for this shift to be over, but with this unplanned patron skipping the line of gamblers to gamble himself, who knows how long until the dice stops rolling?

Your fellow staff members look happier, displaying genuine smiles on their faces. Not that you can blame them though, most of them are new hires because your boss tends to fire people on the daily.

“Hold on a sec, please. Madam, I would like to use my lucky charms before you spin the wheel. If you don’t mind, that is.” The man requests. It is not a sincere question, you note, because he clasps onto the dice in his palm so lightly like they are gravity-resistant.

Instead of looking at him, you look at your boss first. He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to you any longer with what looks like one of the women being straddled on his left thigh. Hmm. It’s your call then, you suppose. 

“Sure,” You answer, trying to put on your best polite grin. “Who am I to deny such an… experienced gambler?”

“Thank you for the praise,” He replies, his free arm bending as he scratches the back of his head. “But you… misunderstand, I am just a simple bettor, nothing more.”

The positioned desk with a microphone attached has just become this casino’s newest playing ground. Faster than you can blink, the dice are let out of his hand and roll. When they stop, you can hear cheers and praises, as if they are all meant for him. 

A spotlight is focused on him too, a color more dazzling than the brightest glittering gold.

“I’m going to choose the peach.”

You nod and spin the wheel, all of the colors blurring together, slowly but surely soon coming to a stop.

The pink area with the same peach is on the pointer, and the crowd all clap their hands and dance.

*~*~*~*

During your breaks, you are allowed to go to your recovery room to do whatever limited array of activities your bookshelf and dusty boxes under your bed had in store for you. The breaks are always nothing more than half an hour, but you earned the right to have your breaks’ minimal times be nothing less than ten minutes.

“I just… noticed you never play the games you so often assist, that’s all.” The blond stranger continues to follow as you speedily walk down the hallway to the backrooms. Little by little, the golden paint that coats the walls turns into a dull beige, a sure sign that your treasured little hiding place is near.

“I wish I could but right now I have my lunch break, sir.”

His speed is nowhere near diminishing, no, if anything it is getting more profound.

If you did not have unwanted company, if you did not have to worry about the security cameras in every corner of this part of the casino, if you did not have this job you hate to your very core, you would have torn the high heels off of your blistered feet.

But you cannot because you do have unwanted company, you do have to worry about the security cameras in every corner of this part of the casino, you do have this job you hate to your very core. So, the high heels stay on and make sounds with every step you take.

“Come on, Miss [First]. I know you want to.” You have been unable to get him off your back for the past ten minutes. Even when you attempted to walk around the less crowded parts of this casino in circles, he was there. “[First]. A lovely name, if I say so myself. [First], [First], [First].”

It takes everything in you not to frown or cross your arms. That could be considered rude, especially to someone as high standing as this man. “Utmost sincere apologies, sir, but I really-”

“Aventurine.” He interrupts. “It’s Aventurine, Miss. You don’t have to call me sir, you know. We’re alone here in this stank hallway. Without my money, I’m just like you, and I’m sure we can become great friends.”

“In my opinion, I believe that there are better people than me to form connections with, Mister Aventurine.” You try not to huff in frustration, but you could have sworn that one was let out.

In the distance, you see your recovery room, the number two on it turning off and on every few seconds.

It has always been that way. The only one who often gets renovations to their living quarters is your boss. The rest of you are nothing more than cow fodder to him, even his assistants.

“You should head back, Mister Aventurine.” You say, the smile on your face trying its hardest not to fade as you turn to look at him. “I don’t want your seat at the pinball machine to be taken from you.”

“And who do you think would have the guts to steal from me?” Aventurine smirks, one of his hands lowering his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose. “No one is that suicidal, that’s the hard truth.”

He winks at you faster than you can get a grip on your door’s handle. 

“Just think about it, m’kay?”

In a flash, he starts walking off, leaving you all alone.

*~*~*~*

“Ah, you’re back!”

Aventurine is at the start of the hallway, the part where the gold paint is the most pronounced.

“My break ended.” You say your answer quickly and simply as you walk past him. Instead of your high heels, you are wearing black flats.

Your feet were bleeding much more than usual when you finally made it to your room. Yeah. That is the excuse you will give to your boss if he asks. He seems drunk and is still at his little booth, not to mention it is dark in the casino at the moment, so there is quite a low chance he will.

“You don’t look so good.” Aventurine nearly shouts, causing you to walk even faster to make it to the wheel of fortune. “Did something happen?”

His voice is soon drowned out by the crowds of people talking. Just a few more seconds. A few more seconds, and he won’t be able to bother you much longer and he will head back to that pinball machine he has been hoarding for the past hour. 

You move past the ogling eyes of drunk consumers and move past the guards, who always let you behind the stage without a hassle. Your flats don’t make nearly as much noise as the heels as you walk up the five steps.

You only have three minutes before the curtains withdraw from their positions, so you pull on your bun to make it tighter and put the stray baby hairs behind your ears. You brush any dust off your dress and then brush off any dust that is on the gambling wheel. The cleaners only work after all the shows are done and all the guests go home, so it is up to you to make sure the show is always looking its best.

You hear the countdown from the electric speakers and the onlookers.

“Five! Four!”

You take a few deep breaths.

“Three!”

You hear the confetti cannons turn on.

You close your eyes and think about the best possible future, one where you can be happy. Where you can be yourself. Where your smiles are real. Where your happiness is real. Reading for as much as your heart desires. Trying all the delicious-looking food no matter how strange it may look. 

“Two!”

Instead of hearing the number one, you just hear more cheers.

The curtains move to the designated sides of the stage, and the near-blinding spotlight shines at you. You smile, waving at the crowds of people, until you see something that nearly causes your facade to crumble down.

Aventurine stands there at the start of the line, holding his three dice just like before.

*~*~*~*

You avoid Aventurine just long enough for the casino to close for the night. It was not an easy task by any means, but somehow retreating to the bar on the job and making simple conversations with other patrons and fellow staff members was enough to repel him.

Since it is after hours, the bartender has gone back to his room to sleep after downing five shots of Spade. He will be hungover tomorrow, that much is certain.

Ah, to only work when it is far past dusk. A dream only for your boss’s most favored employees. Aside from the bartender, there is his guard, who has been seen for the past few months being so drunk that he cannot even stand; he has to sit on the floor.

There is no room for you in that little club. But your gut tells you that it is better this way, for no one unfavored can see what goes on inside.

It is only you in this bar now, spinning around on the stool closest to the gates that lead to the other side. It’s you. Despite this job, despite everything, you are still you. All you ever have to be is you. Only you.

The glass in front of you is half full. Half full with Melancholy. It is only slightly bitter, the rest of the flavor profile being floral and refreshing. This type of shot glass is only reserved for people as high standing as Aventurine due to the little scattering of gold at the rim. 

They are stuck there so they won’t choke whoever is drinking from the cup. For once, your boss put his resources into something partially useful. If only he would do the same with your salary and put some more credits into it.

The door’s chiming bell rings. You hear the front door then close. Did the bartender forget to lock the door?

Should you say something? You don’t want to get in trouble with your boss tomorrow, and his hangover will certainly make his wrath ten times worse than it already was.

The sound of footsteps doesn't fade, and another sound accompanies it soon enough; Aventurine’s voice.

“Hey. Just wanted to drop by. See what you’re doing this late all alone, you know?” 

Before you can turn around and politely ask him to leave, he sits on the stool beside you. Vibrant eyes make contact with yours.

A hand goes on your shoulder, squeezing with a purpose; to keep you quiet.

“Are you drunk? You smell like Blossom Dew and Soothing Soda. Heavily.” 

He's exaggerating, you know this. You've barely had a sip. It's not nearly enough to get you intoxicated. Not at this early into the after-hours. You still need to have a few more beverages before heading to your room for the night.

“Mister Aventurine, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” As he chuckles, your body instinctively reacts, possibly as a protective response. You wouldn’t blame it for acting this way, even under ordinary circumstances.

“I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making orders like that. Maybe if you worked for the IPC, but you’d have to work at the speed of light to get anything close to my ranking.” His hands slither from his sides to your glass, tilting it so he can see the dark yellow liquid within it. “Hmm. Do you not have a high alcohol tolerance, Miss [First]?”

“I do.” You rebuke. He shrugs his shoulders.

“I don’t think I should believe you, honestly.” With one of his hands, he takes off his pink sunglasses, putting them beside your cup. “Maybe if you drank the rest of it in one gulp.” With a slam, he puts a stack of credits on the table. “Go on, do it and I’ll give you enough credits to leave Penacony forever. I promise.”

Who are you to decline such an enticing proposition, despite your distaste for the man's company? This employment, with all its hardships, can vanish if you are simply granted the funds. Thus, you hastily consume the remainder of your beverage without deliberation.

You’re too focused on the bet at hand to notice the unusual saltiness.

With a wide grin, he applauds enthusiastically, his cheers echoing through the stillness. However, his clapping abruptly ceases, leaving behind an unexpected emptiness. In its place, a throbbing headache emerges, surpassing the intensity of any typical morning-after discomfort.

The fall into a state of unconsciousness is far from effortless; it feels more like a sudden, jarring blow to the face, sharp and agonizing. 

“I’ll keep my word, that is a gambler's responsibility after all."

#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite

Chapter 1

It's here! This is the first chapter of my first real fic here on tumblr! I am not the best writer so please be kind :')

Series masterlist

Alternate Universe SKZ!

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

Previous - Next

Summary: There's no turning back now, not when you know what you left behind. A dangerous situation now replaced with another. After the omegas disappeared you have to extra careful, especially now that you have left your pack and family.  What happens when your car breaks down on another pack's land?

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter warnings: Angst, anxiety, reader is VERY sad, minor violence, cursing, A/B/O (pls let me know if I missed any!)

MDNI 18+

Wc: 2400 ish

Disclaimer: The names and faces used here are just that, names and faces, and in no way reflect the real people the characters were designed after. The views and actions of these characters do not reflect the real Stray Kids in any way shape or form. This is all for fun let’s keep it that way please. 

You should have known better. All those hushed conversations your parents have been having, all the phone calls your father excused himself to take, even the trip to your packs doctor for a very extensive physical. None of it set off your mental alarm bells and that made you feel so stupid. But how could you have known that your own parents, the people who raised you and were supposed to have your best interest at heart, were planning on selling you off to the highest bidder once you became mature enough. 

That's life for omegas these days, though. After a worldwide virus a few decades ago, omegas just stopped being born. The virus wiped the gene out almost completely, leaving a very small percentage of omegas left. Unluckily for you, you happened to be the only omega born in your area in the last 40 years. That made you highly sought after by alphas, especially dangerous ones. 

Your hands were still shaking. It had been hours since you escaped your parents house in your car, yet you couldn't get your hands to stop shaking with the immense adrenaline you’re feeling. You had no plan, no money, nowhere to go and no one to help you. Your only friend, Ash, was a beta girl in your pack and as much as you liked her you knew she could do nothing to save you now. At least your car had a full tank of gas, the only good thing your father had done for you was allow you to drive to Ash's house on occasion.

All the adrenaline was starting to wear off as you drove, the realization of what this would mean for you and your life now starting to sink in. The constant looking over your shoulder, the uneasiness you will always feel, it was almost too much to handle. No. What would have been too much to handle is letting that filthy man get his hands on you. Kim Hongjoong.You had heard about the things that alpha had done to claim power over his pack. From sabotage to murder, none of it was good. From what you could gather he was on the search for an omega to complete his pack and somehow had heard whispers about you. The only known omega within a few hundred miles. He wanted an omega to raise his children and help him lead his pack and would do anything to get his hands on one; whatever necessary. 

You imagine the sum of money he offered your parents was just too good for them to pass up on. Your alpha father was too proud to accept anything less than a hefty amount. Your mother was an omega through and through. Obedient and submissive to her alpha. Just as she raised you to be. She herself was a rare omega. Though back in her day the omega population wasn't as low as it is now. Now the numbers have fallen to less than 0.2%. Your mother molded you into the perfect little doll. Almost. Never in your wildest dreams did she or your father imagine you, their doll, would be disobeying and running from all you had ever known, yet here you are. That's what real fear does to a person. Fight or flight. All your life you had been all bark and no bite. Now this is your way of biting back.

All you had to your name was this old car (technically your fathers), an old backpack with a few changes of clothes, and couple cans of spaghetti o’s. Luckily this car had an old map in the glovebox. Better than nothing especially since you had no gps and no phone. You knew better than to take the main roads. Your pack would undoubtedly be looking for you and the car. Back roads it was then.

You couldn't tell exactly how many hours you had been driving at this point, too caught up in your mind to really pay attention to the time but by now it had gotten very dark and you found yourself on this old road going through a small town in the woods. You vaguely remember passing through the small community about half an hour ago. Of course you hadn't stopped in the town in fear of being noticed or recognised somehow. But now you’re wishing you had stopped at that little gas station and at least tried to get an ounce of gas with the spare change left in the middle console. The car was officially running out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. Just your luck. 

 “Are you serious?” You asked no one with tears starting to fill your eyes.

Feeling the difference in the vehicle causes you to pull off to the side of the road with a groan. You know it won't be going any further with the way it just gives up there on the side. Turning off the car and leaning your head against the wheel you let out a light sob. This wasn't the life you had envisioned for yourself. Once upon a time you thought one day you would meet your true mate, a caring alpha who would love you for you and want to make you happy. Seems as though that was just a fairytale after all. Even your parents weren’t true mates. They just settled for each other. You knew you couldn’t let that be you. You wouldn’t settle, especially not for a vile man you didn't love. 

It was too late now to leave the car. This is where you will be staying for the night. Good thing it was late spring and not winter or you would freeze out here. Once your tears have slowed and the sobs have ceased you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You will be ok.” You repeat to yourself a few times. “You will be ok. You will be ok.” 

Will you though? It didn't matter. You had to be. With one last sigh you locked the doors and climbed into the backseat of the old car. Its seats were worn and uncomfortable but it somehow felt comforting. It felt like the last remaining bit you had from childhood. When things were simple for you. Were things ever that simple as you remembered it being though? Before presenting as an omega when you were 16 things were definitely simple. You had assumed along with everyone else that you would be a beta and go on to have a normal life. Sure sometimes you were a little agreeable and always had a gentle nature, but you had just thought you took after your mom in that aspect. Little did you know you would take after her in a different way. It wasn’t until you presented that it made sense to the pack why you were that way. It was then that the looks began from other pack members. The way their eyes would linger on you a little too hard. The way their nostrils would flare when you entered a room. It made your skin crawl thinking back.

From that point on there was no more public school for you. You were homeschooled the last few years of high school for your protection. “We're doing this to protect you not punish you, Y/N.” your father had said when he forbade you from going back to school. “You can't trust anyone these days. Not around an omega.” He was right. The thought never crossed your mind that you couldn't even trust your own parents. You wished you had been born a beta like your sister, or even an alpha like your brother. Being the youngest out of three you figured you would be like them. 

The worst part was you didn't have the suppressants you had been taking since you were a teen. They were almost impossible to come by normally, but your father had somehow gotten his hands on a steady supply and had been forcing you to take them. Another thing that was for your protection. To keep alphas from detecting you by scent. You hadn't taken any this morning before you left so you imagine your scent was going to start leaking out for any one nearby to smell. Great. Another problem for tomorrow.

Adjusting yourself on the seat to lay down as much as you could, you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. It wouldn't be long before sleep overcame you. The exhaustion of the whole ordeal catching up with you. 

__________________________________________________________

The sun peaking through the trees awoke you from your surprisingly restful slumber. It seemed to be early morning if the dew on the windows was any indication. Peeking out the window you saw nothing around. Not even any animals. Perfect. You slowly unlocked the door and crept out quietly shutting the door behind you. Taking careful steps a few yards into the thickets ahead of you and relieving yourself helped you feel a little better. You made your way back to the car and took a second to breathe. In and out. In and out. The air was crisp and refreshing and helped you clear your head. 

Now feeling a little better you noticed how bad your stomach was growling at you. Reaching into the trunk of the car you pulled out a small can of spaghetti o’s. Not your first choice of a meal but when you panic you grab what you figure will be easiest to take with you. Plus you could use a can as a weapon if needed! 

Eating was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but now you knew you could no longer put it off. Popping a can open and taking a seat on the hood of the car with a spoon you dug into the food. It was….. food . Cold and disappointing but at the same time satisfying as you had an empty stomach. 

There you were, sitting there on the old car contemplating your next move from here with now a half full can of disappointment, when you catch a scent in the air getting stronger with each passing second. It was another person, no it was people. More than one. 

Fuck

You have been found. Whether by the packs that were after you or by a stranger it didn’t matter all you felt was terror. 

There was no time to flee. Before you could even move from the hood you could feel a pair of eyes on you to the right of you. You twist your head to face the eyes that are peaking out at you from the trees ahead. 

The stranger takes a tentative step towards you and comes out from hiding and you immediately go into fight or flight. 

     With an alarmed shout “NO”, you launched the half full can of spaghetti o’s at the intruder, hitting him square in the chest and sending the cold contents all across his shirt. 

“What the fuck?!” the possible assailant yelled. 

Spotting another figure approaching the first one you threw yourself back off the hood and onto the ground, then as quickly as possible you yanked the door open to the car and jammed yourself in locking it immediately. You made yourself as small as possible as to not be seen by them but you knew the damage had been done. There was no way out of this. No gas in the tank and even if there was you had no idea where your keys had gone.  

You could hear them talking but you were too frightened to pick up any of the words except girl, mess and Alpha. Now you really felt terror. Without realizing how close they had been to you, you let out a shriek when there was a sudden knock on the window next to you. 

Not daring to look at them for even a second you yelled through the glass “Please go away! Please please I don’t deserve this!” tears filled your eyes. 

__________________________________________________________

The smell of your distress was making Seungmins and Jeongins eyes water. They had never experienced such a powerful scent before. Not even the odor from the Spaghetti Os covering Seungmins shirt would distract from the one coming from within the vehicle. The beta wanted to be mad that she had pretty much assaulted him, but at the same time couldn’t find it within himself to care much given how much pure terror he smelled coming from the young woman. The omega.  

The young alpha Jeongin felt similarly now that he had eyes on her he felt this overwhelming urge to protect. He had never encountered one before and honestly thought he never would but now that he was laying eyes on her he felt his alpha side perk up. A part of him never wanted to stop looking at her.

Honestly the boys didn’t know what to expect when they came out here to investigate the scent that had appeared on their land late into the night. They truly didn’t expect the cause to be an omega girl that was holed up on the side of a path. 

Seungmin tried knocking again, a little more timid this time so as not to frighten her more. “Excuse me, we could smell your distress. Do you need any help?” He asked slowly. 

You spared him one quick glance then shrunk into yourself again. “No thank you, please go!” 

He sighed and stepped back a few feet to look at Jeongin in amazement at the situation.  Giving him one small nod he said “ We need to call Chan.” 

__________________________________________________________

What felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, passed and you stayed in your same position. The boys had remained there but not so close to the car anymore to which you were thankful. They were quietly mumbling amongst themselves, no doubt about an omega being caught out here alone. Every so often you would move your head just slightly to peer over at them. You hadn’t noticed before in your initial panic but they were pretty cute young men. A beta and an alpha from what you could tell. Even covered in your thrown breakfast (a shame about that really) they still managed to carry themselves proudly. Though your smell is causing their faces to scrunch up, you could tell it was taking it's toll on them.

Not even a moment later after taking another look at them you could feel the change in the air as another pair of people was approaching. Not just anybody was coming this way, it was an Alpha. A very strong one at that. The smell was starting to permeate all of your senses and was quickly becoming intoxicating. 

You could sense him before he even appeared. No matter how intrigued you may be though you can’t show weakness.

 ‘Keep your head down and wait it out’ you kept telling yourself like a mantra.  

You knew he was approaching your door. It took everything in you to remain still. Then as if struck by lightning you felt your body alight like it never has before. 

“Omega..” 

(A/N: Please do not steal my writing and content! Reblogs and comments are encouraged tho 😙once again i would LOVE to hear your thoughts and theories! This has not been beta read all mistakes are my own.)

©doitforbangchan 

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[amourdivine]

𝐖𝐇𝐎'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅? ઉ   PICK A CARD

Hello lovelies, I hope you're having a wonderful week! This is perhaps the first heavily shadow work focused PAC I bring to you. I'm quite nervous to post this, since I know delivering these messages can be difficult and I don't like taking a harsh, judgmental approach. I hope this reading resonates. As always, feedback is highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo ♡

paid readings are closed as of february 2024

none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise!

pick a card masterlist & information

how to choose your pile.  take a few deep breaths for and look at each and of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

୨୧ PILE ONE

who is your shadow self? eight of swords • knight of cups • nine of wands • queen of wands

Your shadow self is the fearful side of you attached to anxiety. The side of you that does not believe you can save yourself from bad situations and feels endlessly hopeless, helpless and trapped. It causes a self-fulfilling prophecy, one where you think you'll inevitably fail, so you self-sabotage (either consciously or not) and end up "proving" yourself right.

However, as helpless as your shadow feels, it never asks for help. It's trapped in a spiral of shame and self-doubt, even self-hatred. All of this happens mentally for most of you, to the point where your body is neglected or stuck in flight / freeze mode. I feel stuck in the gutter, unable to move in the sticky mud. Despite your best efforts to succeed, you may suffer from impostor's syndrome as well, an inability to see your worth, your beauty and your own light. It's almost as if you're scared of your own power, pile one. Very painful, very self-inflicted and something which you may have learn from childhood, maybe you got bullied a lot or were heavily criticized by the people around you. If that happened, I'm so sorry pile one. You deserved so much better. You still do.

how can you work with your shadow self? nine of cups • the sun • queen of swords • queen of wands

You know, when I was entering college, I had a counselor whose words were life changing to me. One day, he picked up a cup full of coffee and asked me: how do you get rid of the coffee, without throwing it out entirely? And I was puzzled. It wasn't possible. Him, in his neverending patience, took me to the water station and started pouring water onto it, until the coffee was cleared away and all that remained was clean, crystal liquid.

Maybe the bad things that happened still haunt you, but they can be drawn out by the good ones. Seek for the light, pile one. Seek the nurturing experiences, the days when you allow yourself to just be, seek the help, the love and stay open to the love. Stay open to the idea that yes, you are worthy, even if you do not feel like it, even if so many people have made you feel otherwise.

These wounds may not fade entirely with time, but you are more than them, always. Always. I know it's never easy to challenge what we've been taught about ourselves, but in order to unlearn all of that, you will have to learn the new things, the true things about you. If they said you were lazy - was that really true? Or were you just tired? You're not "naive", you're pure. You're not "too sensitive", you're in tune with your emotions.

The stories we tell ourselves hold power. What stories are you telling about yourself? Maybe it's time to switch to a new point of view, one where you can rewrite yourself as the person you were never allowed to be.

୨୧ PILE TWO

who is your shadow self? judgement • five of swords • ten of cups • king of wands

Your shadow self is the side of you that thrives in chaos - listen, that's not entirely a bad thing, after all, our shadow reflects something which we need to acknowledge, nurture and work with. However, when you perceive danger or feel threatened, you may turn to harsh words or hurtful actions to avenge yourself.

It can manifest in the form of extreme competitive behavior, the inability to rest, overworking, even maybe envy, jealousy and arrogance sometimes. Now, I'm not here to judge or shame you, you're safe here. I think you have and still feel the need to prove yourself to others, to prove them all wrong. Maybe other people told you that you couldn't do it - and you took it all personally, so personally that it crumbles your self-esteem when someone diminishes your efforts or accomplishments.

Your shadow side craves attention, praise and approval. You want to succeed, to be someone you're proud of, to just never feel insecure, diminished or ignored again. You can also turn possessive with loved ones, wondering if they really love you or if they are lying. There's a lot of skepticism here, too.

how can you work with your shadow self? judgement • ace of pentacles • three of pentacles • eight of swords

Acknowledge your feelings and these insecurities. "Fake it 'till you make it" doesn't always work. Being vulnerable is, ironically, also being strong. Understanding your limitations and allowing for other people to collaborate with you (and vice-versa) will take you even further in life.

Your sense of justice is commendable. Make sure you're using it for justice indeed, and not just vengeance. Your ambition can walk hand in hand with your desire to do good, to make space for everyone else to shine, to open up to others, let them see all of you. No one can love perfection - even if they could, what's there to love about something or someone so perfect that they barely feel human?

It's okay to be scared, to feel insecure, to not shove difficult emotions under the rug. We cannot be at our 100% all the time. And we cannot please everyone, all the time. What you can do is praise yourself, let others praise you when they do and accept it gracefully, making sure you're spreading your warmth and wisdom to others as well. See, I think you have overcome a lot and a lot of people could use your help, either in the form of advice, resources or a shoulder to lean on.

You have leadership potential, pile two. Don't limit yourself by being alone. We were never meant to make it on our own.

୨୧ PILE THREE

who is your shadow self? ace of wands • page of swords • three of cups • king of pentacles

Your shadow self is someone who may indulge in harmful habits out of a need for instant gratification, maybe reckless spending, speed driving, partying everyday or simply not saving up resources and caring about the future. Your shadow self is someone who hates boredom, who craves excitement and cannot fully deal with long-term commitment in its many forms. It wants novelty, adventure and it comes at the cost of your responsibilities, your routine and your friendships even.

This shadow self hates suffering (fair enough, who doesn't?!) and will to go great lengths to avoid it... but ironically, it causes you more pain in the long run by avoiding the unavoidable. By never crying, never addressing your issues or your difficult moments, you end up running right back into yourself and these same issues return.

This side of you doesn't want to grow up - you don't want to fall into the trap of routine and a boring, 9-5 job. But excessive habits are difficult to maintain, no matter how good it feels in the short term. There's a difficult, troubled perception of adulthood and life itself. A need for constant adventure and chaos, a feeling of entrapment whenever you are with anyone who loves you, because you fear being controlled, tamed and used.

how can you work with your shadow self? the tower • nine of wands • nine of cups • three of pentacles

To put it simply, let yourself hurt. Let the foundations of your heart crumble, stop to feel just for a second. You don't have to be on the run all the time. What are you running from, pile three? Disaster, pain and hurt are often inevitable, but they do not have to be the be-all, end-all of our lives. The Tower is a reminder that all that crumbles was meant to crumble eventually, and there is beauty in letting things end naturally, allowing the flow of life to do its thing.

That means aging, growing, learning from the seasons. I think you have a very, very deep heart and mind you're scared to tap into. You're scared to be trapped in the endless hustle, to never feel alive or good once you "settle". But who says the big joys are the only ones that matter? As someone said once, big joys and small joys are often the same. Sometimes, waking up in itself can be an adventure. Don't overlook or underestimate the ways life tries to find you, to cling to you - remember to embark on the hard journeys, knowing you'll have gotten something valuable in the end.

You're brave and rebellious. You can be a catalyst for change in so many ways. Who said adulthood has to be boring? Who said you have to work a 9-5? Do you have to get married? Maybe being a stay-at-home parent isn't for you. That's okay.

Challenging the status quo may not be easy, but you have a natural inclination for it. Your shadow self can dive deeper. It's one of your greatest tools. Your need for joy and fun is not shameful - you can use it for healing, instead of self-destruction.

୨୧ PILE FOUR

who is your shadow self? judgment rx • justice • the high priestess rx • knight of swords

Your shadow self is the side of you that refuses to acknowledge your needs, your wants and desires. It makes you live inside of a bubble, scared of the truth, even if it will set you free. I had the hardest time shuffling for this pile, I kept trying and trying but nothing made sense. I think this is how your shadow side manifests as well, in the lack of clarity, the fogginess that permeates the choices you've regretted.

It's both reckless and frozen, completely lost in a maze, confused, looking for a path, for directions, for anything. It's almost as if you lost your compass, nothing eventually guides you and you remain looking for the directions only you have.

It's too scared to admit what it wants, who you are. Both out of fear of what other people will say, but also out of fear that it'll all go wrong. It's the side of you that remains disconnected from yourself, hidden because it keeps highlighting the aspects you keep trying to ignore, to not know. It can manifest in a lot of ways, either through people-pleasing or being completely reckless. Through lying, denial or even isolation from the world, from life itself.

Something funny is that a song by Bad Suns that just started playing really relates to this pile. "Cinderella slips into a dream like a curse / you could mistake it for heaven at first." This shadow self may live in projection, daydreaming or simply keep you out of touch with everything.

how can you work with your shadow self? six of pentacles • page of wands • two of wands • king of cups

Engagement and socializing are big ways you can work with your shadow self. Being actively curious about the world, about people. Approaching relationships, truths and life itself with genuine interest, no judgement or shaming thoughts involved.

Telling yourself you're an eternal student of this world, because we are and remembering you don't have to know everything. Start scared. Most things, you'll have to do it scared. Unprepared. In the thick of it all, you'll find the answers you need, but only if you are willing to dive deep for them. No taking shortcuts, making assumptions or allowing self-doubt to paralyze your living, because you need to witness life as it is.

Therapy is one big thing, music as well. Anything that connects you to your deepest self, relationships that genuinely make room for who you are, good friends that feel safe and non-judgemental. Your heart has been calling you for so long, pile four. It's about time you listen to it. It knows everything you need to know.

disclaimer. tarot not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. please remember you are responsible for life and in power of it, no one else! ♡

amourdivine. 2021 - 2024 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

#pick a card #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a card reading #tarot #pac reading #astrology #witchblr #tarot witch #pagan #mine.

[kurocamille]

❝maybe frat boys aren’t so bad (aka cars are meant for driving!)❞

Frat!Bakugou Katsuki x reader (except he’s not stereotypical and mean) mdni

part 2

4.1k+ words

you attend your first frat party and run into a familiar flirty face. he offers to drive you home from the party, the empty parking lot outside your dorm building definitely seems like the perfect place to get down and dirty…

warnings

part 1 of 2 (2 will have full smut..) 1 oc who’ll come into play later…., car sex, fingering, handjobs, heavy makeout, hickeys/neck kisses, dry humping/grinding kinda, female/afab reader, no pronouns used, inexperienced reader, “baby” as a pet name

It was your first time going to a college party, miraculously enough. This year, you had met a group of girls who had quickly invited you into their friend group. Somehow, despite you refusing over ten times, they had managed to drag you to a frat party.

After getting yourself a cup of mysterious red punch, you stand in the crowd of people. Bodies brush against you—intentionally or unintentionally, you don’t know. You’ve seen a few of your friends since arriving, but it seems like most of them are off doing God knows what with some drunken frat boy.

You can feel the beat of the music in your chest, as if it’s pumping your heart for you. The strobe lights flash around you. Sipping away at your drink, you go wandering in search of someone you know.

When you exit the common room, you float down a hallway with fewer people. Despite fewer people being there, the hallway is stuffy, and you can barely walk through without knocking shoulders with someone.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, and suddenly you trip on the bunched up carpet beneath your feet. The half-full soda cup goes flying, and so do you. It spills on the front of your shirt and down the back of a nearby couple who, until now, had been in the middle of making out,

“Ugh!” the girl shrieks, and you look up to see her glaring at you. She comes out from under the guy caging her, and you realize it’s the girl Mika from one of your classes. As always, her hair is perfectly coiffed, and she’s wearing a dress that barely covers her ass.

The girl shakes her hands of the sticky liquid that spilled on her, but seeing as she had previously been caged under that other guy, she had barely gotten wet. Meanwhile, the guy stands in a sopping wet shirt. You also recognize him; Bakugou Katsuki. He’s in another one of your classes, one of which you had been paired up for a partner project. Unlike Mika, he doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard. A white short-sleeved band t-shirt complements his black jeans, something you wouldn’t have expected a frat boy like him to wear.

Despite being in the same fraternity/sorority group, Mika and Bakugou could not be more different, and you can’t help but wonder how they ended up together. While Mika is extremely stereotypical and, if you might say, annoying, rude, and a bitch, Bakugou is really nice. That one project had taught you that not every frat boy is a shameless womanizer and prick. Although he’s a definite flirt, he’s always been respectful and acknowledged you as an equal—opposite of what Mika had done to your friends, and now you.

“I’m so sorry,” you say hastily.

“Don’t min-” Bakugou starts, but he’s cut off by Mika.

“You better be sorry!” she all but screeches at you. “This is a brand new set of nails. They’re completely ruined. You better repay me for this. It cost 10,000 yen, you know that? Can you even fucking afford that”

“Look, I’m sorry I did that, but I don’t know if I can repay tha-” you start. The look she gives you is incredulous as she snarls before interrupting you.

“I actually can’t believe you. You must be a dumb slut dying for Bakugou’s attention. Imagine sabotaging me just because he chose to be with me! And you’re so poor you can’t even afford to fix your mess… Ridiculous,” she huffs, pressing a pointy finger into your chest and probably expecting you to bow down and beg for forgiveness.

You try to apologize, but Bakugou steps in before you can say anything.

“Mika, who cares,” he sighs. He looks at you with a silent ‘I can’t deal with this face.’

The silence that follows feels like an eternity, but it really only elapses the half second before her hand makes contact with Bakugou’s face.

The sound from the slap resounds in the small hallway. You stare wide-eyed at the growing red spot with matching nail marks on Bakugou’s face.

“You should fucking care. We’ve been together for, like, a month already, and you still won’t stand up for me?! I’m done, don’t call me,” she seethes before pointing at you. “And you, you better hope we never see each other again.”

After that, Mika storms off in a fit of rage and disappears into the crowd.

“Dating on and off for a month, and she pulls that. Psychotic bitch,” he mutters before turning to you. “Hey, Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming, you should’ve told me.”

“I’m so sorry, for all of that. I’ll just get going and pretend I never saw that.” You turn on your heel to dash out, but a hand grips your shoulder and turns you around.

“No need to apologize, she gets crazy when she’s drunk, and I was planning on breaking up with her,” he shrugs. “Anyway, I’m just gonna head upstairs and shower this stuff off. You can come up too, if you want, Y/N.”

You raise a brow at his suggestion. “You want me to come shower with you?”

A look of confusion and surprise crosses his sharp features before a smirk breaks out. “There are multiple bathrooms up there, but you know, if they’re all taken, you can always join me.” He sends you the stupidest wink that still sends your stomach into frenzy.

“You bounce back too quickly,” you groan. “Whatever, I’m coming up, but not with you.”

Bakugou reverts to his uncaring self and has you follow him. You follow Bakugou, slowly making your way up the rickety house stairs. When you make it around the corner, Bakugou points you in the direction of an ensuite washroom, and disappears into the room across from you. “Just take a folded towel, and I’ll deal with it. If you need anything, just come and get me.”

In the quiet of the bedroom, you lock the door and undress. You make your way into the connected bathroom and strip down in the low light. The shower has terrible pressure and doesn’t heat up, but it does the job of cleansing the sticky punch off your skin.

You finish your shower within five minutes and step out to grab a towel. It’s surprisingly clean, but the pile of your clothes on the counter are still dripping with liquid. That means you’ll either have to walk around in a towel for the rest of the night or muster up the courage to ask Bakugou for some clothes.

You opt for the second option, seeing as you won’t have to walk through a drunken frat house in a towel that barely covers your “good bits.” So, you head back to the door where Bakugou was, rolling your clothes into a ball and tucking them under your arm. When you get there, the door is still closed, as you expected, but there is no sound of running water coming from the room.

“Bakugou, sorry, I need some extra clothes,” you say after knocking on the door.

As if it isn’t embarrassing enough, Bakugou takes his sweet time getting to the door. When it finally opens, he stares at you, his eyes unashamedly trailing up and down your body. He, similarly to you, looks to have just gotten out of the shower. Water droplets fall from his hair and fall down his hardened chest, which he doesn’t bother to clothe. The only thing keeping his from being stark naked in front of you is the towel sitting low on his hips, low enough that you can see his v-line drifting below.

“Clothes?” he asks after an awkward pause, and you flush.

“Yeah, anything will do, I just need it to get home in them,” you reply.

“Alright, come in.” He beckons you with his hand to follow him.

The first thing you notice when you enter is that his room is far different from the other one. While the first bedroom, whose you can only assume is his frat brother’s, is standard for a male college student—clothes strewn everywhere, an only half-made bed, and suspicious posters. Bakugou’s room is the opposite, the bed made, shelves tidy, and everything in order.

Bakugou coughs and breaks you out of the spell you’re under. He’s holding out a crumpled plastic bag, with some grocery store logo on it. “Here, for your wet clothes.”

You quickly snatch the bag and stuff your clothes into it. As you struggle to fit them inside, the towel hugging your body slips from its hold and drops below your nipples. From your peripheral vision, Bakugou freezes ever so slightly, and you hear an awfully loud swallow.

As soon as you notice him, however, he averts his eyes and pretends he had been looking for clothes the whole time. The outfit he chooses for you isn’t half bad, a hoodie and drawstring sweatpants, but they look so big they could drown you.

You take the two garments from him, accidentally brushing fingers in the process. He pulls away from you and heads back towards his ensuite bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in here. I won’t peek. You can get changed in the bedroom.”

With that, he closes the door and cements a divide between the two of you. Quickly, you change into the clothes he gave you, having to roll up the cuffs on them multiple times. You look like a blob of fabric, but it’ll have to do. Hopefully Bakugou won’t notice that you’re not wearing your bra and panties.

Knocking on the bathroom door, you meet face to face with Bakugou one last time. He’s fully clothed now and gives you a smile.

“Looks like it fits,” he says sarcastically.

“For sure,” you joke, flattening out the garments awkwardly. “I’m planning on heading out now, by the way. I think I’ll just catch an Uber, I’m pretty sober now, and my friends will probably be here for a while longer.”

“Don’t take an Uber,” he replies suddenly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he corrects himself. “I mean, it’s not safe to take one right now. Let me drive you, I didn't drink tonight.”

“No way!” you retort. “I couldn’t bother you with that. I’ll be fine, anyway.”

However, Bakugou, being his stubborn self, does not relent until you agree to let him drive you all the way back to your dorms, only a stupid 30 minutes away.

Normally, you wouldn’t risk going with someone in his frat, but you have enough trust in Bakugou to keep civil. So, after a moment of contemplation, you accept his offer and follow him to the adjacent parking lot. Multiple people stare as you walk past them, but you pay them no mind, seeing as you’re practically unrecognizable in your new outfit.

“Yo, Bakubro, good for you!” a redhead yells from the doorway as you leave, whooping in a supportive, you suppose, manner.

“Ah, shut up, don’t spread any rumours, Shittyhair.” Bakugou groans, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn pink.

You’ll have to forget about that, though, because the lights of a black Jeep Wrangler flash on, and Bakugou escorts you to the passenger seat.

“I didn’t know you were this much of a gentleman, Bakugou,” you giggle in an embarrassingly girly way.

“I’m always a gentleman.” He winks and walks around to his side of the vehicle, leaving you feeling hot in the face.

He swings into the passenger seat, and puts the car in motion. You can’t help but notice the way his arms grip the steering wheel, the veins from his strong hands trailing up his forearms in a way that makes you unconsciously bite your lip.

“Put the address into the GPS,” Bakugou interrupts, and you notice his eyes force themselves away from your lips.

You deny whatever you just saw and punch your address into the screen. The machine takes only a second to bring up the route home, which, at this late hour, will actually only take 15 minutes.

After pulling out of the lot, Bakugou heads down the street following the indicated yellow line. He drives smoothly and professionally, as you expected he would. He maneuvers the car with expertise, and you can’t help but think he’s showing off when he steers with an open palm and an arm on the back of your seat.

For most of the ride, you guys are silent. Other than the faint whirring of the air conditioner, the only sounds to be heard are made by you and Bakugou. His by his slow, peaceful breathing, and yours by the beating of your heart—something which betrays you by getting louder and faster with every minute.

Luckily for you, the drive is soon over and Bakugou’s car is parked right outside of your dorm building. For the most part, the lot is empty, and the lights from the windows are off. It makes sense, most people in your extremely small building are out partying at 9 o’clock on a Friday, and the homebodies you’d normally associate with are already in bed.

Your specific block seems to be completely dark, seeing as you left your friends behind at that party… Whoops. It’s no matter, however, you’ll just be the first one in your complex to get back.

You unclick the belt from your waist, moving up on the seat to grab your things off the floor.

“This is you, right?” Bakugou questions.

“Yep! Thank you so much for driving me. I’ll text you later so you can have your clothes back.” You smile at him and go to open the door, but he lightly pulls you back.

“Wait. Y/N, you can keep them, actually. ” He chuckles, but it has an awkward tone to it. “You look better in them than I do”

Wait, what?

You always thought Bakugou was just flirty by nature, which to some extent he is, but you could see it now. Whatever you two had going on was certainly out of the ordinary. From what you could tell, Bakugou wasn’t half as teasing towards Mika as he was to you.

Ever since that one project, he had always made it a priority to sit next to you in class. You had assumed he was there for your notes, not that you minded, but could it actually have been for another reason altogether?

“Well, I would bet you look pretty good in these too, not that you don’t always look good,” you giggle, testing out the waters.

Bakugou’s eyes widen in surprise and soften under the pale light of his car. You stare at him fondly, accidentally letting your eyes flicker to his lips.

“Y/N, I-“ he starts but can’t seem to find the right words.

“I know you just broke up—literally tonight, but, Bakugou, gosh, I really want to kiss you right now,” you speak for him.

Maybe that punch was more potent than you thought. Good thing Bakugou drove you all the way here…

Instead of replying, Bakugou places a tender hand on your cheek and pulls you in. Soft lips meet your own, and you smile. You move to his lap where the seat has suddenly been rolled back.

Ah, it’s his frat boy car seat trick.

Your kisses continue slowly, and you can tell Bakugou wants to deepen the kiss when his tongue brushes against your lips. Upon first contact, you freeze in place. Before this you’d only ever been with one guy, one that you hadn’t even gone far with. In the moment now, you can only hope and pray that he won’t notice your inexperience.

However, you completely forget whatever worry you had when Bakugou starts to go into your mouth. His large hands pull you flush against his body, grabbing at the flesh right above your ass.

When you finally pull back, Bakugou’s eyes are blown wide, and he looks lost to lust. The lips that had previously been on yours now have a cute pout, having puffed up from your kisses.

Bakugou’s lips move down and pepper chaste kisses along your jawline. Even with his light and seemingly innocent pecks, you’re still softly moaning under his hold.

Bakugou switches focus to your neck, licking and sucking a hickey into your skin. After nipping at you for a while, Bakugou lifts off of you, and you can tell with his smirk that he left a massive bruise blooming on your skin.

“Bakugou, let me touch you,” you whisper as he moves to kiss the other side of your neck.

“Call me Katsuki… Please. “ He groans when you slightly grind against his groin.

You shift down on your hips and look down to see a thick boner growing in his pants. Curiously, you press it softly with your fingers and give it a light squeeze.

Katsuki looks down at you, his face quickly turning red. Silently, you reach into his pants, looking at his gorgeous ruby eyes for any sign of contestment. Katsuki stays quiet but gives you a small nod in approval.

Finally, you get to the moment you’ve been waiting for. You press your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, sliding your hand across the top of his cock. Then, with one movement, you free him from his confines, and his dick stands proudly in front of you.

Any expectations or preconceived notions about what Katsuki was packing were shattered. Painfully hard and dripping tiny amounts of precum, his cock is a beauty. The dark pink tip invites you in, begging you to give it one moment of reprieve.

When you nervously stroke the shaft, Katsuki’s reaction is instantaneous, his hips lurching up against yours.

“Fuck, keep going,” he hisses, his breath already laboured.

With more confidence you wrap your fingers around him and give his cock a few quick pumps. Your sudden change in tempo makes Bakugou’s cock twitch in your hold and release a bead of white precum. You remove your hand, and Katsuki’s eyes meet yours with a pleading look.

Carefully, you push your thumb against the slit of his dick and lubricate him with his own pre-cum. As you swirl the substance around the head, Katsuki buries his face in your shoulder.

“Oh my God, I’m about to cum,” he gasps. “Fuck, it’s like I’m a virgin again.”

Bakugou’s chest heaves as you work him to his high. With every light touch or squeeze of his dick you make, it twitches and throbs in reply. You decide to help him finish, doing the same fast strokes that make him groan lewdly in your ear.

Then, all of a sudden, Bakugou reaches out and stops your hand in the middle of its movements. You eye him, confused. “You into edging or something?”

“Not quite, I wanna get you off, too.” He surprisingly lets out a hearty laugh.

“Sit up, baby,.” You follow his instructions and he picks you up with ease.

Katsuki flips you over so you’re no longer sitting on top of him, rather lying caged underneath him. His body is so close to yours that you can’t look down to see what’s happening when you feel his hands moving against your clothed pussy.

“May I?” he asks, tugging at the edge of your panties.

“Still such a gentleman,” you giggle embarrassingly.

“Breaking the frat boy stereotypes as we go, I suppose.” He laughs with you, before turning his attention back to your body.

His adept fingers pull your soaked panties to the side, revealing your equally glistening cunt. Katsuki nimbly dips his fingers in your wetness with a soft hum.

“So wet, baby,” he grins, and you blush in embarrassment.

Bakugou skillfully captures your attention by pressing the pad of his thumb against your aching sex, as if to test the waters. When he hears your soft moan in response, he takes it as an invitation to keep going.

Slowly, Katsuki’s thumb plays with your throbbing clit, brushing it in teasing circles. A whine escapes your mouth, and he chuckles upon hearing it, knowing how needy you feel. “You want my fingers inside of you?”

You gasp out a ‘yes,’ and his fingers are immediately prodding at your entrance. Then, you feel the stretch your hole makes to accommodate his intruding finger. Although you’re not used to such a feeling, you easily adapt to the length of his digit, which pleasantly curls into your depths.

Bakugou starts fingering in and out of you, and the pleasure increases. Previously soft moans and whines turn into cries against his shoulder. Despite your embarrassment of being oversensitive, the flush on Bakugou’s face proves he’s just as affected, without you even touching him.

As Katsuki continues to slip inside your wetness, you feel the pressure building in your stomach, much differently than it ever has before. One more finger squeezes into your tight cunt and presses against your pleasure spot. You cry out, and his hands continue to brush against that sensitive place.

“Fuck, that feels good, please don’t stop,” you babble mindlessly, barely even registering Bakugou’s reply of, “Course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.’

To your blissed out surprise, the pleasure gets stronger. The sensation on your clit returns, and your body uncontrollably arches into Bakugou’s above you. With every calculated movement against your bundle of nerves, you’re worked closer to orgasm.

Then, all of a sudden, the angle of the thrusting fingers changes. Bakugou changes his position to be closer to you, somehow managing to reach further than before. With every new touch to your g-spot and clit, you feel yourself being pushed to your high.

In turn, you grasp a hold of Katsuki’s twitching cock. His hiss in reply shows you just how sensitive he is from before. Your hand moves up and down, matching the quick strokes of his fingers. Just as quickly as he had gotten you to the peak of your orgasm, his body convulses, signaling his is soon to come, as well.

Your moans crescendo and bounce off the walls of the car, and Bakugou can't help but be spurred on by them. The speed of his hand gets faster, still very much calculated in its movements, your hole fluttering around his digits.

After swiping your thumb across his leaking tip, Bakugou’s body seems even more sensitive, if it’s even possible. His cock violently throbs in your hand, begging to spill its seed. You oblige its wishes and continue your pumps up and down his hard length.

You can feel yourself almost cumming, on the brink of losing your mind. Similarly, Katsuki’s body, his higher-pitched moans, twitching shaft, and milky tip, tell you he’s extremely close.

Then, taking you by surprise, Bakugou cuts off your moans with a hot kiss. Immediately after you make contact, his tongue sweeps against yours in a passionate dance.

“I’m gonna cum!” Your voice gets muffled by the tongue pressing against your own.

The addition his mouth was to your pleasure plunges you right into orgasm. Your body convulses, pussy tightening uncontrollably, and you wail into his mouth. Anything you had ever expected of sex is automatically blown to bits when this atomic force hits you.

You feel your eyesight black out, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. You subconsciously grip harder around Katsuki’s dick, causing his orgasm to come shooting out of him. Long strings of his pearly cum cover the palm of your hand, his cock still moving to let out the last bits of his seed.

The bliss that follows is calming. Bakugou finally pulls out of you, his face coming off of yours to reveal his dazed eyes and flushed cheeks.

You doubt you look appealing, but Bakugou looks at you sweetly and more kindly than you can assume he does with anyone else.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers to you after leaning down to your level.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and slowly untangle your limbs from his. Bakugou helps you up and grabs your (borrowed) clothes that had previously been strewn across the other seats.

After dressing yourself and saying a quick goodbye to Bakugou, you slip out of his car and head back into your dorms.

You smile to yourself as you lay in bed alone. On your bedside table you notice you’ve received a new notification, a message from an unknown number. What you see makes you smile and blush.

‘That was such a great night, let’s do it again sometime. - Bakugou’

a/n: hi guys. i’m back for the holidays and i hope to put out part two soon (let’s be honest, i never write things on time). i tried writing something more plot heavy… hope you enjoyed🫶 also, sorry for the edging joke. i think i’m funny.

#anime smut #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou smut #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha x reader #bmha #mha fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #x reader imagine #smut fic #mha imagines #bakugou imagine

[asexualenjolras]

I've finished watching season two, and I have some thoughts I needed to just get out. Neil Gaiman is a very talented writer, and the way he writes the Ineffable Husbands' relationship is so authentic and beautiful.

Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is so much more complex than having them end up happy so soon after Crowley admitted his feelings for his angel. They've spent 6,000 years, as Nina and Maggie put it, not talking to one another about how they feel. It isn't unimaginable that Aziraphale would struggle with his feelings when Crowley finally admits how he feels.

Of the two of them, Crowley is more settled in his freedom. He has no ties to Hell, or Heaven, or Earth. He knows that he would be happy living away from all of that with Aziraphale. It's what he's wanted for a while, and he's content with the idea. We've now seen him ask Aziraphale to run away with him twice (once in season one, and once in season two). He's perfectly happy with that idea. And him telling Aziraphale that at the end of season two was such character development compared to him just screaming at his angel in the first season.

Overall, Crowley knows he loves Aziraphale more than Earth, or Hell, or Heaven and Maggie and Nina help him reach that conclusion by the end of the season. Nothing matters more to Crowley than Aziraphale. And we have seen him threaten to throw everything away for him twice now. He wants Aziraphale and Crowley is contented with the idea of it being the two of them for the rest of time.

However, Aziraphale has never wanted solitude. He's never once said that that's something he wants. Aziraphale's wants and needs are in constant battle with one another, and what he wants is ... to be good. His morals are objective, and he is burdened by his constant need to be good and to be fair - even if it means being unfair to himself. He's prone to self-sabotage. And he will forever put other people and beings before himself.

Aziraphale, like Crowley, knows that he is bound to Crowley for eternity. They are soulmates. 6,000 years of finding one another is evidence of that. But Aziraphale's trauma is so deep-rooted. It is engrained in him that he needs to be good. He believes it's integral to his being. He's spent 6,000 years doing his absolute best to impress Heaven and God, and his morals aren't going to change just because Crowley admits his feelings for him. He is, at the heart and soul, good. And he can't move past his morals and put himself first because that would be ... out of character. He's conflicted. But the one thing he is is ... good.

Aziraphale wanted Crowley with him just as much as Crowley wanted him. But he just wanted to try and balance Heaven and Crowley. He wanted Crowley to be an angel with him, and be happy and work together as they always had. He didn't want anything to change (he's so autistic). When Crowley told him that he didn't want to stay in Heaven, Aziraphale was confused and hurt. You could see it in his face.

And, integrally, he could have demanded that Crowley come with him, he could have been selfish for the first time in his life, but he wasn't ... and he couldn't ever be. He let Crowley go. Because he thought that was what was best for him. He put Crowley first and pushed his own wants and needs aside. Crowley told him he didn't want to go, so he let him walk out.

Importantly, we see him doubt. He stops for a split second and considers going with Crowley when he sees that Crowley has waited for him on the other side of the road (Crowley didn't go ... too fast this time, he stayed put and didn't run away - he waited for Aziraphale - but don't get me started because I will cry).

Overall, just as we've seen Crowley's want to run away with Aziraphale before, we've seen Aziraphale turn down that offer in place of doing the right thing (or, what Aziraphale feels is the right thing). This isn't new. And they will get through it. They just have a bad time communicating with one another.

One thing is certain, though: they are soulmates. And they will find their way to one another again. They have done for the past 6,000 years. It's ineffable. They are ineffable.

Neil's a genius. And the mirroring between their relationship in the two seasons is so well-written, and complex and I have so much admiration for it.

Anyways, that's all I can muster in thought. I'm off to cry because angst makes me sob. And I'm heartbroken. I'm so hopeful for a season three. I need to see this angel and ... Crowley again.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season two #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #neil gaiman #michael sheen #david tennant #amazon prime #good omens 2 #spoilers #analysis #long post #thoughts #autistic aziraphale

[gurugirl]

The Warning | bfd!harry

best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship

Summary: You and Harry are trying to heal after coming clean to everyone and Mrs. Styles comes to you with a warning.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of cheating and divorce, age gap, an uncomfortable confrontation

Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist

You missed the occasional texts from Fae. Goofy memes or links to TikTok videos she knew you’d like. Recipes for you two to try. Screenshots from conversations with guys on Tinder.

There was nothing but silence from her for weeks at that point. And being blocked by her on every social media site you two were both on was glaring. It hurt. But what could you do? You’d categorically fucked up. There was no coming back from what you’d done to her family.

Most of your mutual friends were on Fae’s side and had also blocked you. Which you deserved and expected to be honest.

Harry slowly moved his things in. It took a couple of weeks. Every time he went home he tried to go at a time he thought his wife, well, he was calling her his ex now, wasn’t going to be there.

But, that afternoon, when he came home after you’d just had the worst shift you’d ever had in your life he was clearly upset. On edge.

And even though you’d had a terrible day you wanted to make sure he was okay, “Hey, are you all right?” You hugged one of his arms to your body after he sat a box full of his things down.

He smiled at you and brushed his fingers up the back of your neck, “She was there. It was awful. She’s just so full of rage toward me. And I get it, but it took a lot out of me. Better now, though,” he dropped his face to yours to kiss your mouth.

His kisses and his touches always made you feel better too. It was like everything outside of your little apartment was crashing down around you both, but as long as you stayed inside together you’d be okay.

He told you how his day at work was and then you both sat down on the couch and cuddled together, “How was your day at work, baby? I haven’t asked how your day was yet.”

You placed your chin on the top part of his arm as you looked up at him, “Horrible. Caressa is really mean. I think she’s trying to make me quit.”

Harry’s brows pulled together as he wrapped his arms around you, “Really? What has she been doing?”

“Well, last night she put me at the back. I had too many tables and no one to help because the bussers and floaters don’t go into the back when the restaurant is busy. They usually have two people waiting at the back to cover things but I was by myself so it was really stressful and the people I served were getting impatient with me so my tips were awful. And today I only had 2 tables my entire shift so I barely made any tips at all. I asked her if she could give me at least one more when a group came in but she just stared at me and laughed like I was crazy for asking,” You frowned. “Oh, and she updated the schedule without telling me. She’s got me off for five days in a row where I was supposed to be working all those days.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?” He rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“I just didn’t feel like rehashing it last night. Didn’t want to think about work at all.”

Harry pulled you into his body until you were sitting in his lap with your legs on one side. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes. Everything was better when you were with Harry.

“Quit your job. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. And if she’s trying to sabotage you then it’s not going to be worth it to fight for it when you’re not making tips anyway.”

You sighed. It already looked like that’s where it was heading. Caressa had been cold to you since she learned it was in fact Harry that she’d seen that day. Of course, she sided with her friend and started treating you like the tramp you were.

You and Harry made dinner together and then cleaned up the kitchen after eating, “Have you heard anything from Fae?” You asked.

Harry shook his head, “Not yet.”

You frowned, “I hope she comes around.”

“I think she will. Eventually.”

You hoped he was right.

When you’d both finally climbed into bed together you snuggled into Harry like you always did. And even with the stress of everything going on outside you two always found a way to unwind together and being intimate (which usually included sex) seemed to help you both calm down and sleep well through the night.

Harry’s hand dragged up and down your back, as you nosed at his shoulder with your thigh hitched over his hip, “I love you, baby. Can I make you feel better?”

You smiled in the dark, “I think we both need to feel better.”

Harry’s chuckle vibrated from his chest as he dropped his hand to your bottom and pushed at the fabric of your panties until they were down around your thighs.

He kissed you gently and ran his hand over your breasts and then downward to your labia.

You pushed at Harry’s underwear and slid your hand under the band and smoothed your palm over his cock.

With mouths connected you both gently got one another worked up. Harry’s fingers soon became messy with your slick arousal, and Harry’s cock hardened with the stimulation from your hand rubbing over his shaft.

“You want to be fucked, little girl,” Harry teased as he spoke against your lips.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Styles. Please.”

Harry groaned. He enjoyed it when you called him Mr. Styles or Sir. Lately, it had just been Harry as things seemed so serious with everything going on.

“Mmm… love that,” he smiled into the kiss as he pushed you down to your back and quickly rid himself of his underwear as you kicked yours the rest of the way down your legs.

He ran his tip through your pussy lips and inhaled deeply as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretch around him and moaned in relief.

“It’s so good with you, sir. I need you,” you cooed.

Harry’s languid strokes long and deep always had you weak. You felt his fingers wrap around the back of your neck as he brought his mouth against yours with a whimper.

It might have been the quietest sex you’d ever had together. Harry kept his unhurried pace, deep and searing while he kissed you. Your body was on fire. You’d come soon.

But then his next words against your lips changed the mood and had your head spinning and your heart pounding, “Wanna be my wife? Have my babies, Y/n? Want to show everyone you’re mine?”

His harsh rut into you had you inhaling a sharp breath as your eyes popped open and you arched your back into him., “Yes, Harry…”

“Yeah? Wanna be my Mrs. Styles? Have your pussy fucked and filled every day?”

“God… fuck yes, Harry…” you groaned loudly and somehow you felt yourself grow wetter at his words.

“M’gonna give you a big ring and keep you properly fucked, baby. Okay? Show everyone this is real.”

His words were thick and deep and with his lips against yours, you could almost taste them. It made your mouth water. That you’d be his wife and get his cock every night. Prove everyone wrong. Give him a few babies. It was just a fantasy at that point but it sounded exactly like what you wanted.

“Oh my god…” you gasped. Harry was fucking into you harder and your bed began to rock and your quiet sex turned wet and loud. He still had his hand at the back of your neck, almost cradling your head as he gently squeezed and kissed you, his cock spreading you apart as he thrust deeply hips pasted to yours. “This is real. You and me,” you moaned.

You felt Harry begin to quiver over your body as he gasped, “Want all of you, baby. Want every inch of you to be mine.”

You nodded as the tip of your orgasm started to wind its way through your system, “Every inch of me is yours. From the first time you fucked me, Harry.”

He lifted himself slightly and pulled himself out to his tip before driving back into you, repeatedly fucking himself into you in punishing strokes.

You grunted at each plunge and clung to his love handles as you unraveled loudly.

“There you go,” he groaned, “Sweetest girl. Gonna give this to you every day, baby,” he began to thrust erratically, his hips swaying and grinding into you.

Your ears rang as your orgasm wiped you out. You heard Harry loudly moan in time with his thrusts just as began to come inside of you. You felt the sharp punches of his cock against your cervix as he unloaded himself within your pulsing walls. Just like you loved. The final moment of your orgasm with his long dick reaching into your cervix making you ache and swell as he throbbed and pumped into you.

You’d happily be his wife and give him babies and rub it in everyone’s face with how wrong they all were about you and Harry. This man was the love of your life.

.           .           .

“I can’t believe you’re hooking up with Fae’s dad,” Paloma whispered to you as you sat at the little table in your favorite café. A café you and Fae often met up at.

“Well, we’re not just hooking up. But yeah. I feel really bad about everything but...” you trailed off as you shrugged and took a bite of your pastry.

She nodded at you excitedly. Paloma was a mutual friend of yours and Fae’s. She was always closer to you, though. But when she found out about your affair (thanks to Fae) she called you to get the tea directly from the source.

“I always thought her dad was so hot. It’s crazy that this is real. That he left his wife for you? You know that’s not typical, right? Usually, affairs don’t wind up with the man leaving his wife for his side piece.”

 You cringed. You hated that was the perception. But you let it slide. You figured she wouldn’t exactly understand everything but it felt good to talk to someone about it who wasn’t your mother.

“I know. That’s why when we started everything it was just going to be like… not serious you know. We’d end things before it got to be too much. Before anyone found out or got hurt. But we both fell in love. I don’t know how we could have stopped it.”

“Fae despises you and her dad. When she called me I was confused because she never reaches out to me but then I realized she wanted to make sure as many people knew as possible,” Paloma laughed, “I mean… I was shocked but I’m still your friend. I can’t judge you for what you’ve done.”

“So you don’t think I’m a bad person?”

She chuckled, “Well, I don’t agree with what you did but I could never think you’re a bad person. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”

You drank your hot tea and tried to enjoy yourself with your friend but the longer you and Paloma chatted, the more you missed Fae. No one could replace Fae. She was your other half in so many ways.

“Can I ask you a really personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”

You shrugged, “Okay. Sure.” You had an idea of what she was going to ask based on the fact that you’d gotten onto the topic of birth control.

“Is he good? Now that I’m thinking about him like that I can imagine he is.”

You breathed out laughed through your nose and smiled as you looked down into your tea, “He’s good. Yes.” You weren’t sure how deep into it you wanted to get but you’d entertain her for a bit.

“And I bet he’s got a big… dick.” She whispered the word dick quietly.

That’s where you drew the line. You sipped your warm tea and turned your gaze to the corner of the room where someone was just taking their seat.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” she spoke, drawing your attention back to her.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I want to talk about that anymore, though. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

It turned out that Paloma didn’t have much to say about herself. She gave you the tiniest bit of information, where she was working, that she’d dated someone a couple of months back and that it didn’t work out, and how she was planning a vacation to Cancun. But that’s it.

It felt strange to divulge such personal things to someone who gave you so little in return. And you should have known that’s what was going to happen. She wanted the dirty details about you and Harry. She wasn’t there to be a friend. Not really. She wasn’t rude but you saw that her motivation was to sate her curiosity.

Maybe you were better off just confiding in your mother. Though, she never asked you things about how sex was with Harry. She always only wanted you to be happy and doing your best.

And it would have been fun to discuss in detail how good you were getting it with Harry. And if Fae weren’t his daughter you’d do that with her. Tell her all about how insane his body is, how strong he is, how big his cock is, and how he eats you out almost every day. You’d totally brag about him with her if things were different. But instead, you were stuck with Paloma who you didn’t want to give too many details to. And besides, you and Harry were still healing. To talk about how he was in bed didn’t seem right. Especially when you didn’t know who she was going to tell.

You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to get some things you needed and you picked up one of those cheap grocery store flower bouquets. Harry had stopped having them sent when shit hit the fan and he moved in. You didn’t know if it was because they were so expensive or just because he hadn’t thought about it what with everything going on, but you figured a small bouquet might feel nice to have in the apartment.

But when you pulled into your building’s parking lot you saw, what looked like Mrs. Styles’ car parked at the front. Of course, perhaps it was someone else’s, you were a bit paranoid lately. You always had your eyes roaming around just in case you accidentally ran into her or Fae.

With one arm occupied by your grocery bag and your other hand holding the small bouquet, you slowly walked up the steps toward your door and thought, maybe it wasn’t Mrs. Styles. Perhaps it was actually just someone with a car like hers. Plus how silly for her to confront you. What good would that do anyone?

“Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You heard her voice before you saw her and then felt her pull your bag from your arm, “Let me help you. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

You felt your vision blur and shade in with red as your heart pummeled in your chest, “Oh. Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” It was difficult to hide the shock you felt. You were sure she saw it.

You put your key into your door to unlock it and did some quick math in your mind for when Harry would be coming home. You didn’t want to be with Mrs. Styles alone. In your apartment.

“Cute. Kind of small,” she commented as she walked into your home behind you. She’d never visited before. “I’ll set this in the kitchen here, then?” She pointed to what was very obviously your kitchen.

“Yes. Sure. Thank you.”

She sat the bag on the countertop and you laid the bouquet on your little round kitchen table. You didn’t know what she wanted. What her intentions were. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.

She leaned her hip to the counter and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at you, taking in your outfit. You felt like you should have dressed nicer. Maybe you would have put more thought into your outfit if you knew you’d be seeing Mrs. Styles. You were wearing jeans with holes in the knees and a hoodie.

You kept thinking of things to say to fill in the very uncomfortable silence. One was that Harry would be home soon, but that felt wrong to say to the woman who was still married to him. Another was to ask her how she’d been doing. Also, not a good question to ask.

“Uh, would you like some water?” You walked toward the cupboard to pull out a couple of glasses. Even if she didn’t want one you needed it.

“No, thank you.”

You nodded to yourself as you poured a glass with water and took a gulp to soothe your dry throat.

“Would you like to sit?” You carried your glass to the kitchen table and gestured at it as you looked back toward her.

Her eyes pierced through you coolly, “No, thank you.”

You leaned your bottom into the table and looked down at your linoleum floor. You hated this. You had no idea how to do this with her. Whatever this was.

“Did you,” you looked up at her eyes, “Want to talk? Or…?”

“I don’t know that you and I have much to discuss that won’t end with hurt feelings. I just came here to see you again and say my peace. It was hard for me to remember what you looked like in my mind. I always imagine you as a high school girl even though I know you’re an adult and I’ve seen you as an adult. Kind of like how I see Fae still. My little girl,” she smiled. “And so with you, you were still a high school girl in my mind’s eye. Quiet. Polite. Fae’s closest and dearest friend. A warm and bright girl that I loved like my own daughter,” her words were razor blades.

“But I couldn’t imagine what you looked like anymore now that you’ve done something so unlike the girl I used to know. I needed to see you for what you are now. The person who’s sleeping with my husband. Who threw away a relationship with my daughter, who is the most beautiful and loving young woman anyone could ever know. And now I see it. I never saw it before but it was always there wasn’t it?”

You shook your head, “I never wanted to hurt–“

“No one ever does, Y/n. No one with any amount of good in their heart ever wants to hurt anyone much less themselves. But you’ve done it haven’t you? You’ve hurt Fae. You’ve hurt me. You’ve hurt Harry. And worst of all is that you’ve hurt yourself.”

She wasn’t wrong about anything she said. You had caused a lot of pain. You hurt people that meant a lot to you. Mrs. Styles, at one time, had meant a lot to you. But now it felt like she was a stranger in your apartment. Someone you didn’t want there.

“I get it, now, though. Looking at you. I was so confused at first. I thought why would Harry even look at you in that way? So I just came here to see if I could make sense of that and you as you are now. And… yeah I see it. You’re lovely. Definitely his type. And you’re sweet too. God that makes it so hard to hate you. I really wanted to hate you too but instead, I just hate Harry now. Because this is really his fault in the end. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she laughed incredulously, “I don’t like you one bit anymore. But I can’t hate you.”

You couldn’t keep eye contact with her. It felt like you were being incinerated.

“Harry’s had a lot of women after him in the past. Even after we were married women would flirt and try to get close to me just so they could get closer to him. It was funny because I noticed all of that. I was aware of what they were doing. Even had to cut a good friend out after she drunkenly admitted she wanted to sleep with him. He’s such an attractive man. Believe me, I know. I always knew other women found him sexy. But with you? Never had a clue. Wouldn’t have ever imagined it.”

You felt numb. You had no idea how to respond or even if you should.

“Anyway,” she pushed herself away from the counter and clapped her hands together with a faux smile, “That’s all I wanted to say. I hope you’re prepared for him to break your heart. Because this won’t last, Y/n. I don’t want him anymore but I’m just giving you a warning. If he can throw away a 24-year marriage for a 24-year-old girl whom he has nothing in common with, then just expect him to do something that catches you off guard.”

She walked past you to your front door and you listened as she opened and closed it behind her. You couldn’t move from your spot. You tried to breathe to calm yourself and not overthink the words she said.

You knew that she was angry and some of what she said was an attempt to get under your skin. To make you feel bad. Which you already did feel bad, of course. But now it felt suffocating. Felt like there were cracks starting to gape and widen between you and Harry but you needed to not allow that, as hard as it was. Hard not to take heed of her advice and note how other women wanted him and how he strayed from his wife whom he was married to for 24 years.

When Harry finally came home you didn’t know how long you’d been standing there at your kitchen table. You hadn’t moved a muscle. Your groceries hadn’t been put away. The flowers were still lying on your table. You were caught in your mind and battling not to allow your doubts about Harry to overcome you. Because you knew he loved you, you reminded yourself.

“Baby,” He wrapped his arms around your front as he stood behind you and kissed your temple, “Got groceries and flowers?”

You nodded shallowly.

He kissed you again and then you felt his face next to yours, could see from your peripheral that he was looking at you. He pulled his arms away and stepped to face you, pulling your hands into his, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

You slowly brought your gaze to his and immediately you felt better. His eyes. His concern. His warmth. And you could see the way he loved you. He loved you. You stepped toward him and put your arms around his middle and smushed your ear into his chest as you finally let your tears pour.

Harry drew his arms tight around you, “Baby, what happened? Tell me what’s wrong?”

You choked out a sob and squeezed him even more.

Harry sat down in a chair, and kept you with him, pulling you into his lap as he cupped your face and tried to look at you, “Sweetheart, you’re worrying me. Did something happen?”

You nodded and pushed your face back into his chest. You wished you could stop your tears and just tell him but you could barely sputter a word out.

He rubbed your back and gently rocked you as you cried in his arms and wetted his nice button-shirt with your tears.

When you felt better and felt like you could speak, your first words came out sounding so tiny and pathetic, “I’m sorry.”

“Shh, shh, shhh…” he softly hushed you, “Don’t be sorry, baby. Can you tell me what happened?”

You sniffed and looked up at him, “She… your wife. She came here.”

Harry’s face dropped, “What happened? What did she say?”

“She just wanted to see me and tell me what she thought about everything. I couldn’t even speak I was so nervous. She wasn’t here long.”

He nodded and used his thumbs to wipe your tears, “I will have a talk with her. She should not have come here. She has no business to do such a thing.”

You leaned into his touch as he wiped your tears.

“What did she say to make you so upset? Talk to me.”

“Just that you’ll hurt me eventually and you and I have nothing in common. She wasn’t mean, though. Everything she said was true about me. How I hurt everyone. And she said that other women want you too and…” you swallowed. You could hardly put your thoughts together coherently.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/n. And you know it’s not true that we have nothing in common. You and I get along perfectly. She’s just upset. You know that right?”

You nodded.

“And I don’t care how many women find me attractive, or even how many men find you attractive. None of that matters. You know that.”

“I know. She was just upset. It just scared me that I had to confront her alone. And I hate how she looks at me now. I’m the woman who took her husband.”

When your tears had finally dried, Harry helped you put the groceries away and put the flowers in a pretty vase to display.

“I need to have flowers delivered again. These are pretty but I like the ones Florero delivers.”

You wrapped your arms around Harry’s middle and looked up at him, “You’re so sweet but you don’t have to. I know those were expensive. I just thought any flowers would look nice so I picked them up on a whim.”

“You deserve flowers from Florero, baby,” he kissed your forehead. “I just forgot about it since everything that happened and moving here with you. But you still deserve nice things.”

You really didn’t feel like you needed nice things. Harry had never done all that much in the way of spending money on you. It was flowers, some jewelry, food, a toy. Things like that. But you were happy to just have him. You were happy that he was yours. And as awful as it was to feel the way you did, you were glad he chose you because you were always going to choose him.

Harry smushed you against his chest, “You know how much I love you, Y/n. I would choose you over and over again. No matter how hard it gets. Never let anyone’s words convince you otherwise.”

And there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t believe him.

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[stopthatfool]

Consistently shocked by the idea that people think Bradley Rooster Bradshaw is chill and laid back. He’s actually shockingly unchill. He is the opposite of chill. He did not inherent any of his parents chillness. He’s a loser who’s too invested in everything.

Like ya hi I’m Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and I cut off my remaining family, surrogate father, and support system for 15 years cuz he pulled my naval academy papers because he didn’t want me to die like my biological father and because my mother wanted me to be free of the navy’s confinements and to exist outside of a system that physically uses me for their own power and political gains— gains I will never experience and feel for myself. A system that sees me as no more than a number, a soldier, something easily replaceable, as a body to be sacrificed in a war that i did not start nor will i finish.

“Bradley's chill.” No he’s not. He’s a beast. He’s a 30 something year old man whose entire purpose revolves around holding a grudge and proving his surrogate father wrong. This beast who literally said this to his surrogate father— "No wife. No kids. Nobody to mourn when you burn in." Beastly. Ghastly thing to say. 15 years and he still hates the guy who's been there for him since day one. He’s a guy who refuses to even begin to understand where Mav was coming from or to even think of what his mother wanted. He’s evil. And I love him.

Hi I’m Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and when someone brings up a well known, easily accessible fact that my father and surrogate father used to fly together I will try to cause physical harm against them and my friends will have to physically hold me back. I’m Bradley Bradshaw and I was willing to put my entire career on the line (the one in which I put my family aside for) so I can attack and beat this guy up.

I love his big ol’ Bambi eyes… he’s evil and fucked up and he’s not chill. Yes he wears jorts and tropical shirts, but that just means he’s gay and a fucking liar. Just cuz he looks like some surfer dude does not mean that he’s actually laid back like one. He’s lying to himself— trying to convince himself he is something that he is not and never will be. He is unchill. He’s lame. He has undiagnosed anxiety and it physically expresses itself through anger and loserly-ness. He cares so much to the point of self sabotage. He will always be unchill, no matter how much he tries to change that fact.

Y’all ever want to cradle a grown man in your arms? (graphic design is my passion)

#comic sans #is this controversial #debated about posting this.. i've been sitting on these thoughts for a hot minute... but i gotta share #also this isn’t a call out to anything/one specifically. like i mean this. i just felt like making fun of him. #it's mostly just an excuse to talk about him and make that stupid photo #i shouldn't have access to photoshop #also not saying that hangman was in the right in that scene #just saying that if Bradley were actually chill… he would’ve reacted differently #like sure bradley's chill about what coffee he drinks in the morning or if lunch plans change #but he’s unchill about everything else #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #he's so annoying i lub him #bradley brad bradshaw my beloved #stopthatfool's adventures with photoshop #computer now riddled with blurry pngs #fuck it posting this

[leighsartworks216]

Screaming crying crawling up the walls for your top tier Astarion content

Idk if you’ve seen this, it’s floating around the internet (I think it’s a tweet?) it says something like “I want someone to grab my face and say ON PURPOSE, I WILL CARE FOR YOU ON PURPOSE” and I’d love to see our love-deprived bi-centurion react to something like this.

Like maybe he’s caught feelings for tav and is starting to feel bad for manipulating them and starts self-sabotaging by saying/thinking stuff like ‘you only THINK you love me but it’s not real, I’m sorry I made you feel this way’ and tav getting v v serious and replying “I never loved you by accident”.

Him being confronted by the fact that things never would’ve gotten this far if they didn’t let it, if they didn’t choose him, that they’re still choosing him and that it has nothing to do with the act he put up or the situation he constructed, if they wanted nothing to do w him they could’ve and would’ve dipped.

Idk I’m just spitting ideas, have fun babe ✌🏻

- 🦇

I wrote this at 2am but I did proofread it (it's almost 4 now 💀)

Also the original tweet is by Jenny Slate (@/jennyslate) and says, "I just want someone to grab my little face and scream 'ON PURPOSE, ON PURPOSE I AM GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU'"

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,392

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

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It began one night, almost a week ago. Astarion had gotten into the routine of joining you in your bedroll after feeding, cuddling close and relaxing to the steady sound of your heartbeat. That night, a week ago, he didn’t. He delicately bit into your skin and pulled away before you were even slightly dizzy, murmured something about how you’d need your strength for a fight tomorrow, and slipped off to hunt for animals. Truly, you didn’t think anything of it, then. And maybe you got so lost, so caught up in your daily stress, that was why you didn’t register it for so long. Comments under his breath about manipulation immediately covered up with Gale requesting a magical artifact or Shadowheart and Lae’zel fighting.

So, a week went by. And the realization finally hit. Guilt ate away at your stomach, but wallowing wasn’t going to help. When night started to creep in, your companions slipping into their tents, you slipped into Astarion’s. Sitting in a pile of pillows, he looked up at you with a smirk and a ‘Hello, darling’, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark. Distant.

“I’m sorry I haven’t given you the attention you need,” you start. A baffled look flickers across his face, but it is not given the time to settle.

There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like it’s a strain for him to keep smirking. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. You’ve been busy running around camp, helping people - I understand.”

With any other person, this would have seemed a perfectly reasonable response. An apology accepted, a mutual understanding - the relationship goes on. Except, this was Astarion.

You sit down nearby, close enough to reach out and touch. Any closer and you worried you’d overcrowd him. You always tried to let him come to you first, though he usually struggled to initiate anything.

“You’ve been distant, too,” you point out. He begins to form the words to apologize, but you shake your head to stop him before they can build a sentence. “I’m not upset, I don’t need an apology. I just wanted to know why.”

To be honest, he didn’t expect you to notice. He assumed, quite stupidly, all things considered, that you would be too preoccupied to notice him slowly slipping away. Late night cuddles dashed for hunting, hand holding forgotten as he trails along at the back of the group, kisses never lingering and the ones that did lacking any emotion behind them.

“Is something wrong?” you prompt gently. “If it’s too much, we can work out what would be better for you.”

Guilt stabs at his own non-beating heart like a wooden stake. He’s drifting and you still throw him a rope, still ask for him to grab on and pull himself away from his past, from dissociating with the slightest hint of affection.

He smiles wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he teases, but it comes out a little too strained to be a joke. His fingers fiddle with the corner of the page of his book. He finds watching the paper fold and bend is much more interesting than looking into your eyes.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, but the endearment feels like fire on his tongue, “but it’s not real. This isn’t real.” Your brow furrows as you stare at him. He can’t bear to see the realization cross your face. “Two hundred years of manipulating - of course I would trick you, too. It’s instinct, darling, I don’t blame you.” Red eyes finally meet yours. You look confused, of course, but there’s an air of determination, like you’re ready to fight whatever plagues him. “But this… love… it’s not real. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry I made you feel this way.”

He expects anger. He expects tears, even. Crying and shouting and ‘How could you?!’s and ‘I can’t believe you’ve manipulated me all this time!’ But it never comes. You frown, sure, but it’s leagues away from being angry.

“You think… you manipulated me into feeling this way?”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Admitting it feels bitter. He blames it on his growing fondness for you, but he knows it cannot possibly be returned in any genuine way. Not with his underhanded tactics surfacing at every passing glance, soft brush, and gentle smile. “Come now, darling,” he smirks again, building a wall to separate himself from the shitshow that must be just ‘round the corner, “who could really love me?”

That only succeeds in making you frown further. “Astarion, I’m not with you because you’ve tricked me.” The baffled look from earlier surfaces again, but it lingers, mixed with doubt. “I understand that you started this to manipulate me into protecting you, but I’m not here because you successfully influenced my emotions - To be perfectly honest, I could tell from the start.”

He laughs dryly, suddenly, like it startles him. “And here I was thinking I’d learned some subtlety.”

You don’t laugh with him. You don’t even smile. “I chose you, Astarion. I still choose to be with you. Because I want to.”

Any lingering mask of confidence fell from his face. The creases around his mouth became more prominent as he frowned. His eyes darted around, glancing around your face for any tells of deception, any hint that you’re making this up to make him feel better. “How can you be sure? How do you know you’re choosing me and not just buying into another act?”

“Astarion.” You get on your knees and hold his face in your hands. He stares up at you with big, round eyes. “If I wanted to, I could break up with you. I am not staying because I feel stuck, or because I feel obligated to. I love you. On purpose. On purpose, I am staying with you. On purpose, I choose you.”

He opens his mouth, but no words form. His mind is reeling, chasing to catch up and process everything, all the while jumping and flipping, trying to find excuses or reasons why you shouldn’t care for him. He swallows the lump building in his throat. He speaks in a whisper, too stunned to speak louder. “Are you sure?”

Your whole face softens. Determination turns to fond affection, frown lifting into a soft grin. “Yes. I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his forehead, and he closes his eyes to savor it. It’s been a week without allowing himself your love - he deserves to enjoy it once again, even if he feels guilty for it. He wishes his thoughts would just shut up and let him have this. “If you still need space or time, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. Just,” you pull his face back, “please talk to me about this next time. I know things have been hectic, but I’m never too busy for you.”

He sighs, slow and soft. Relieved. “Of course, my love.” He adores the way you smile brightly at the endearment. He turns sheepish. “Ah, could I, possibly, join you tonight? It does, admittedly, get rather lonely passing the time alone.”

You kiss his cheek. “Of course you can. C’mon, I’ll even play with your hair if you’d like.”

He chuckles, genuine this time. “I very much would.” His book is set aside, the page he left off on lost as he takes your hand and follows you from his tent. He can’t help himself from squeezing your hand in his, like he can’t quite grasp the fact you are physically holding onto him. Even when you lay down first and he settles in next to you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head on your chest, it still feels hard to believe. But the way you wrap your arms around him and gently detangle his curls and scratch lightly at his scalp cannot possibly be from his imagination. Nor the way you press kisses on his forehead and temple and hair with sweet praises and words of affection. His mind is not kind enough to imagine such tenderness.

Laying there in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and even breaths that fill your lungs as you slip into sleep, is the closest he has ever been to true contentment.

---

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