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amberlynnmurdock · 3 months

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Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: Matt saves his wife from being held hostage by Fisk's men and helps her with the PTSD that comes from it.

From this request from an anon named melted butter!

I hope you like it, anon friend!

Warnings: brief mentions of violence, hostage situation, PTSD symptoms, heavy angst in the beginning

Words: 2.7k

Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude

There would never come a day when she wouldn’t associate that song with blood, torture, and darkness.

There would never come a day when she wouldn’t remember the cloth wrapped around her eyes that felt like sandpaper on her skin and the way her head pounded from the tightness of the blindfold. She could still feel it sometimes—unprompted moments of weakness when she would put on a hat or earmuffs in the winter and the feeling of something being wrapped around her head transported her to that awful night. She’d rather leave the beanie and earmuffs at home and risk her head getting cold than be reminded of that torture.

It was the way she hesitated to put on gloves because if her wrists felt too constricted she would be reminded of the way the rope burned her skin so badly it left scars. She’d leave those at home too, and risk dry and cold hands.

“Sweetheart,” Matt said earnestly, wrapping his hands around her cold ones. “Your hands are so cold. Why didn’t you put on gloves?”

She didn’t reply—she just let Matt continue to warm her hands with his. She preferred it that way. She preferred him to feel the scars around her wrists than her to look at them.

Ever since that night, she took the coldest showers. Every shower was an ice-cold one. The place they had her held hostage in was stuffy—hot. She remembers her own sweat dripping down her face and the salt burning her eyes even under the blindfold. She can’t feel too hot anymore or else she will again be transported back to that traumatizing night.

And the song—that fucking song.

She wasn’t sure if it was a torture tactic or if the Kingpin had requested it be played. The only thing that mattered was that they kept it on repeat, at a loud volume—so loud she could hardly hear her voice when they would ask her a question about Daredevil.

“I don’t know,” she cried behind her blindfold. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I—“

SLAP!

The violins started to feel like her head was being woven in torturous ways. The sound filled her senses similarly to how cough syrup fills one's senses—bitterness from the smell to the taste on the tip of her tongue. It was nauseating to listen to the song over, and over, and over, and over again. Nauseating to be in a situation like she had just two months ago: alone, in pain, and scared. So very scared that she may not make it.

Until he found her. He told her he would always find her.

She didn’t know he was there until the music finally stopped playing, and the lights in the warehouse went out. She was blindfolded but the way the men started yelling about the lights told her everything she needed to know. She was shaking against the wall, sweating, trying to find that relief she should feel that Daredevil had come to her rescue—but even that couldn’t shake off her fear.

“If you ever get taken from me,” Matt had whispered to her one night in bed as he fiddled with the diamond ring on her finger, “know I will find you. And when you know I’m there, I want you to whisper to me like I am now. Because I’ll hear you and I’ll come to you.”

She whispered to him as soon as she heard the music stop and Fisk’s men were shouting at each other.

“Matthew,” she hushed even lower than a whisper, “Matthew. Matt…”

Matt has dealt with a lot of dark situations as Daredevil, even before he donned the name and had a red suit. Years ago, he saved a little boy from a Russian gang. He saved a group of young girls from trafficking. He has dealt with the worst criminals in this city and it never got easier. All he could do was save people. He just never bet on the fact that one day he would have to save her.

It was something they talked about before deciding to get married. After months of convincing himself he could never have a life like that, she told him that God didn’t put him on this earth to only bear other people’s burdens. God meant for him to have a life like everyone else—a life that included love and marriage. He agreed on one condition: that it be an intimate small wedding at Clinton Church. And by intimate, only Foggy, Karen, and Marci were invited.

He never wanted to prepare for a situation like this. He never wanted this day to come. He never pondered on what protocols to teach her if someone were to take her—but after months of avoiding the subject, he thought that was still important in case the situation ever did come. And unfortunately, it finally did come.

He remembers how still the apartment was when he came home—how silent and cold it was. She hadn’t been home since the morning, he could tell. Icicles started to form on the back of his neck when he realized he hadn’t received a call from her since she left work—which was over an hour ago. Matt felt weak in the knees suddenly. He had to support himself on the kitchen counter as he focused his senses on noises outside of the apartment.

“Dear God,” Matt whispered, “please keep her safe until I find her. Please help me find her.”

The whispers didn’t last long, nor the prayers—soon, Matt was throwing a rage in the apartment. Shattered glass was on the floor. Broken plates. Matt’s agonizing scream when reality finally settled in him that she was taken from him—by who? There was only one possibility.

In no time he changed into his Daredevil gear and was prowling the streets, rooftop to rooftop, to find where they had been keeping her hostage.

A warehouse by the pier. He could hear the classical music playing at an incredible volume, enough to hurt her ears and get in her head. As soon as Matt found the source of the music, he shut it off, along with the power.

And then he let the devil out.

He thought with his fists before using logic to fight these cronies—throwing punches and brutally throwing men over his shoulders, hitting them relentlessly with whatever weapon he found near him. His billy club wires wrapped around someone's neck so tight it made them pass out, using the metal billy club to throw right in another man’s face. Matt moved recklessly in the dark. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs so loudly it would feel like his chest was ripping apart but he didn’t because he knew she had experienced enough yelling on this night.

And then, he heard her.

“Matthew,” she whispered so quietly, it almost missed Matt’s senses. “Matthew… Matt…”

As soon as he made sure all of the men were out, he rushed to her side. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, he was shaking from it. He knelt before her and took off his gloves.

“Hey,” he cooed, “it’s okay. I’m here. I found you,” and Matt’s voice was wobbly in his throat, tears threatening his eyes but no—he needed to be strong for her. He didn’t know what she endured—quite frankly, didn’t want to know—but he knew it had been a lot on her mentally. She was sobbing. He’d never heard her like this. The blindfold was wrapped so tightly around her eyes. Matt gently untied it and slid it off. He then smelt something metallic in the air—salty. It was blood. Her blood was around her wrists. Matt choked a sob in his chest as he untied her wrists. He could sense the tight friction of a bruise forming on her cheek.

“I found you,” Matt’s voice cracked—he couldn’t help it. He was a wreck inside to find her like this. In pain, scared, alone. No—not alone anymore, he was here. “It’s okay now.” He gathered her delicate frame in his arms, holding her against his body tightly but not crushing her, and ran his hands through her hair, hushing her cries. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I have you now. They can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here.”

Matt wasn’t sure what was more traumatizing for him—finding her in that situation or hearing her cries after, and the months that would follow.

It made him question if marrying her was the right decision.

Despite these small things bringing her back to that dreadful night, there was one positive thing that she would never forget either: the feeling when she saw Daredevil—Matt—kneeling before her and gently pulling her blindfold off. The warm wash of relief that spread in her chest was so unexplainable, she could only feel it again if she really put her mind to it. It was like a warm, safe embrace when she knew Matt had found her like he said he would. She could describe the sensation as putting on a weighted blanket.

The image of his red Daredevil helmet is ingrained in her mind: it was him against that dark warehouse. It was the glow of the red mask that brought so much comfort to her. She was safe. He had finally come—finally found her. God knows how hard it was to locate her. She was so relieved, that all she could do was sob into his embrace.

It didn’t get easier when they finally made it home, it only got harder.

She lay in his bed with tear-stained cheeks. It hurt to move. It hurt to speak. She could only whisper. Matt was still in his Daredevil suit, helmet off. He paced the room anxiously, wondering how this could’ve happened, how he could have let this happen. He was thinking of every possibility and what he was going to do next—

“Matthew,” she wheezed as she watched him pace the room. “Matthew.”

He stopped instantly, bringing his attention to her. She was in so much pain, he could sense it from where he stood. It brought a strange heaviness on his shoulders. He knelt again beside the bed and took her hands in his, kissing each knuckle.

“I’m so sorry,” Matt whispered, tears falling down his cheeks—tears of sadness, tears of rage. “I’m so sorry—“

“Shh,” she hushed him. She wasn’t crying anymore. She didn’t think she had any left. “Just be here with me. I need to feel you here with me.”

Matt took off his Daredevil suit and silently crawled into bed next to her. He carefully brought her close to him so she was snug against his chest. Safe in his arms, nothing could hurt her now.

Months have passed. It’s a bright cold day.

She and Matt are on their way to their favorite coffee spot uptown. They hardly ever leave Hell’s Kitchen, but she was in the mood for a specific hazelnut latte that only Rosie’s could make. And if it would make her happy to travel almost twenty minutes uptown for a cup of coffee, well, Matt wasn’t going to argue.

He never brought up that night unless she did. So when she opted to wear a beanie and put on gloves, Matt couldn’t help but feel lighter in his step from the happiness he felt: she was on her way to healing from that experience. He felt like he could forgive himself now.

“Ready?” She asked at the door, clearly too excited to get this cup. Matt laughed and kissed her before answering. He was so incredibly happy that she seemed to be happy again.

“Ready.”

The coffee shop had wooden floors and matching wooden tables. In the back was a small bookstore, and on the side the place had a coffee counter. Soft jazz music was playing. Some people were already settled in: a man had his headphones on and was typing aggressively on his laptop, and a young college girl was studying her books. Matt sensed his surroundings everywhere they went to make sure there were no threats.

“Why don’t you go look at the books while I order our coffee,” Matt suggested lightly, untying the gray scarf around his neck.

“Okay,” she smiled, squeezing his hand before letting go and exploring the back of the cafe.

Matt waited in line at the coffee counter and sighed contently.

She immediately was drawn to the fantasy books section. She took off her gloves and placed them in the pocket of her coat. Scanning each title, she picked one out that piqued her interest and frowned when the summary wasn’t what she expected. Another title made her laugh, but she didn’t bother to read the back. She found herself in a different section—romance. She smiled as she glazed over each book spine with her fingers. Romance books always reminded her of Matt. She often imagined what their story would look like in a romance novel.

And then she heard it.

Suite No. 1 in G Major, BWV 1007: 1. Prelude

The violins sounded like nails on a chalkboard, bloody fingertips leaving a trail. It sounded like a screech against the pavement.

It suddenly felt like she no longer was standing in the middle of an aisle of books. Instead, her body was being pulled and sucked into a black hole behind her. Everything around her felt overwhelmingly large and she was small, like she was Alice. Fear crept over her heart like a spider weaving its web. She felt hot in her jacket. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest like a punching bag.

The song got louder. And louder. And louder.

“No,” she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes tightly. But closing her eyes and seeing darkness only made it worse. “No…” she opened her eyes and felt like she had tunnel vision.

Matt was standing in line when he heard something pounding loudly in his ears. It only took him a second to hear the song that was playing, and he was immediately looking around for her. The pounding was coming from her—from her heart.

In no time Matt was by her side, wrapping his arms around her and quickly walking her outside the cafe—away from the lingering glances, away from that horrible song. Removing her from the triggering situation, knowing she was spiraling.

She was breathing fast now from panic. Matt brought her into a quiet alley and wrapped her in a bear hug, holding her tightly against him. Her hair covered his face as he turned to breathe in her scent. He took a deep breath, and at the same time, motioned for her to breathe with him.

“I’m here,” he said into her ear softly, “I have you. Breathe with me, okay?”

“Okay,” she managed to say between breaths, feeling like her own air was choking her. She breathed with Matt and closed her eyes, his touch and warm hug bringing her back to reality.

“Listen to my voice,” Matt guided, “I’m here. I have you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Matt’s voice was always soothing to her, but especially at a moment like this. His voice sounded like how velvet felt.

Eventually, just standing in his arms holding her tightly, her breathing returned to normal and that song was out of her head, as were her memories of that night. A few silent moments passed. Matt kissed her head softly and held her longer. He’d hold her for as long as she needed. When she was finally okay, she pulled back and reached her lips to kiss Matt’s. He kissed her in return and placed his hands on her face.

“I’ll always be here for you,” Matt whispered.

Matt went inside to get their coffee while she waited for him outside. Soon enough, they were back at the apartment, finishing the last of their drinks and sitting on the couch. She rested her head in his lap and Matt drew circles in her hair, counting the breaths it took for her to fall asleep. He’d of course be there when she woke up.

#matt murdock #daredevil #charlie cox #marvel #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #request #here #matt murdock angst

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hollythius · 10 months

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IT’S A SYMBOL OF OUR FRIENDSHIP! | secret relationship headcannons

featuring | alhaitam, kaveh, tighnari, childe

prompt | as secret lovers, your favorite pastime is buying incognito matching items for you and your partner. but after so many grandiose, lovingly picked items start to alert your friends— well, what do you say?

tldr | i love secret relationship tropes 🫶 especially when it’s by choice and not necessity. reader is gn, i tried to be funny (it didn’t work), help i cant write any of these characters, uhh enjoy!! reblogs help btw! this got way off topic, uhhhh i’m having fun with these hehe

ALHAITAM — matching rings

the great sage was rarely fond of people, and even rarer was when he purposefully went out of his way to do something for another person. thus, after you had gotten over the initial shock of his confession— wham! he had pulled you aside to hand you a box that held matching rings. you almost fainted, the insanity of your precious haitham not understanding the implications of such jewelry threw you for a loop. however, you accepted it as a sort of promise ring, the silver band wrapped with green, vine-like markings. kaveh was the first to notice. “what’s that you’ve got there?” he smirked. his pointer finger directed at alhaitam’s middle finger where the ring rested. “oh, and what’s this? y/n has one too? oh my!” and alhaitam, sweet, red faced alhaitam, simply said, “it’s a gesture of our friendship!” you shook your head, smiling. kaveh laughed. you knew he was starting to suspect you anyway.

KAVEH — matching earrings

having your boyfriend’s roommate intrude on the two of you was rare, but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. you were beginning to think it was on purpose— alhaitam was smart, and it wouldn’t take a genius to realize your relationship. (especially with how affectionate kaveh was sometimes) “y/n, help me put them in,” kaveh whines. “hold on, kaveh. here,” you finished putting your own earrings in, before coming over to kaveh. you press a kiss to his temple, which leads to him kissing your wrist— soon the earrings are left forgotten on the vanity and your collective priority is to kiss each other to death. these ministrations hold your attention so tightly that you don’t hear the knock at the door. or the ‘i’m coming in’ from alhaitham. well, he was bound to find out one way or another.

TIGHNARI — matching bracelets

tighnari’s tongue stuck out a little when he was focused— a cute habit of his that you had yet to comment on. now, he was focused on latching a clasp on a bracelet he had bought you. on his wrist was a matching one: gold and green with incredible luster. he was struggling. “need help, nari?” you ask, giggling. “no. m’fine.” he was certainly not fine, with how long it was taking him. “you’re so cute,” you say softly, tighnari looking up at you annoyed. “and?” you laugh again, the clasp on your bracelet still not closed. you kiss the top of his head, chuckling. “i think you need some help, hon.”

CHILDE — matching scarves

the chilly weather of snezhnaya warranted thick coats, long bottoms, and heavy boots. hats or earmuffs were common, but scarves were practically a staple fashion item. they could be worn multiple ways, styled impeccably, and still keep you warm. so when childe gifted you a red scarf that perfectly matched his own, you melted. “is this for me?” you whispered, childe chuckling at the awe in your tone. “uh-huh. look, it matches mine! and red’s a common color here, so it doesn’t look suspicious,” he said. but the real test would be when he was out in public. the red on his face could easily be explained away as from the cold, but you knew that the rosy tint was him blushing. you buried your face in your own scarf, embarrassed. childe just thought it made you look cuter.

#🍵 . your tea is ready! ´ — writings #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gn reader #alhaitham x you #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #kaveh x gender neutral reader #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x gn reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x gn reader #childe x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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darlingofsatoru · 4 months

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JJK & CHRISTMAS

⊹ synopsis: Various hcs of Jjk characters at Christmas.

SATORU GOJO

-This man is ecstatic, Christmas is his version of heaven.

-Christmas dates are necessary, he’s gonna go out with you in fuzzy coats, gloves, earmuffs, scarfs and hats with pom-poms on them, even if it’s not snowing.

-Hot drinks are also a necessary (he pays every time, pulls his credit card out quickly just as you’re getting yours out, no amount of convincing or bribing can stop him from doing this every time he can.)

-PRESENTS. This mf is so extra with them, type of man to get you tons of expensive jewellery then giggle and blush like a school girl at a teddy-bear and his favourite chocolate.

-Stops using his infinity just so the snow can fall on him (and ofc so he can throw snowballs at you & vice versa!!)

-VERY over the top with Christmas decorations, that one house that has lights all over their yard, driveway, roof & any place in sight (he floated up to the roof because he nearly fell off a ladder one time and doesn’t want to make you do it for him).

-His sweet tooth is in full swing, that man will be buying any sweets he sees that are even remotely festive, he probably even justifies buying things that barely have any relation by trying to make up a tradition.

-Snowmen will be made if there’s snow, he’s running outside with you even if ur wearing nothing but pajamas, you cannot escape making a snowman with him.

-Overall, he’s Santa but 10x more energetic (and 10x less old !!)

KENTO NANAMI

-Very traditional with Christmas (he isn’t allergic to fun dw!)

-Likes to walk with you around your neighbourhood just to check out Christmas lights whilst holding your hand tightly.

-Speaking of Christmas lights, he’ll have a few up but if you want more he’ll help (don’t go too mad with them though, he’ll sigh pretty loudly.)

-Gentlemen as always, makes sure you’re warm in cold weather.

-Thinks it’s the thought that counts but will put in effort to get a present he believes you’ll like.

-Best believe he’s taking a week or two off to celebrate with you, Jujutsu Tech can’t say shit to stop him.

-Prefers a Christmas where there’s a warm fireplace whilst you cuddle on a sofa with many blankets, probably watching something on tv.

-Overall, boyfriend behaviour to the max, your Christmas is gonna be the best ever.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

-This man doesn’t care for Christmas, let’s be honest.

-The only reason he makes any effort at all is because you want him to but that’s not gonna be tons, he’ll simply acknowledge winter and maybe a tiny thing about Christmas, if you’re lucky.

-Somehow convince him to go ice-skating with you, it’ll be an experience you certainly won’t ever forget.

-Gets into a fight if you make him queue for literally anything to do with Christmas spirit.. That guy just stepped on your foot, what did he expect with the king of curses right there? That he’d ignore it? Of course he wouldn’t, that guy surely wouldn’t mind loosing both of his feet, yeah? Well, Sukuna doesn’t have if he does, now he can’t step on your feet ever again.

-Refuses to watch any Christmas love movies so when you manage to convince him, you either hear disapproving grunts or outright complaints about the protagonist or love interest.

-He’s definitely not one for Christmas at all but a present for his partner is a present that needs to be perfect. He’ll get you whatever you want, might even humour you with wearing a Santa hat for a minute or so in private with you.

-He’s pretty grumpy but he’ll sit around on the counter and occasionally help with cooking Christmas cookies, if he feels like it.

-Throws snowballs with frozen ice inside at random kids and casually walks away.

-Overall, the grinch but one who’d steal all the presents and give them to his partner instead whilst killing those with stupid gifts..

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

-Megumi isn’t very excited but he does enjoy it, the break of this holiday admittedly being his favourite part.

-Not one to put lights up but he’s not gonna deny putting up some decorations inside if you’d like.

-Don’t bring him to a Christmas family gathering please..

-Would willingly ice-skate with you but he’s keeping close to the edge, he doesn’t want you or him falling.

-I can see him liking snow but he does remind you to keep warm every once in a while, sighing as he shrugs off the scarf Gojo had forced onto Megumi and instead placing it around your neck.

“It should still be warm, remember to bring one next time.”

-Keeps his eyes on yours discreetly as you past stores, looking for any interest shown on certain pieces in the window.

-Another one who holds your hand in the cold, it’s just something he’d deem as common sense at this point.

-Brings you to have dinner with his sister and him & it’s super sweet, Tsumiki loves you almost immediately due to the fact you’re his partner and that he’s not alone <3

-Overall, a sweetheart with lightly less effort than some but still sweet anyway.

YUJI ITADORI

-Yuji loves any holiday but Christmas definitely ignites something happy in him even more!

-Probably loves it half for the happiness he/others experience form it and also half because he gets presents..

-What can he say? It’s super cool to unwrap and then see this super cool thing he’d forgotten he realllyyy wanted like a month ago!!

-Down for anything to be honest, you name it and he wants to do it too.

-Making snow-angels is something he NEEDS to do any time it snows.

-Likes to decorate a nice tree inside and leave some lights outside & inside, though they’re actually pretty tame!

-Still does Christmas stockings, you can’t stop him from doing this ever.

-Not even confidently as he pulls the other side of a cracker and it pulls apart immediately.. he gets accused of cheating

-Used to be a massive fan of Christmas dinners at school so he’s definitely attempting and failing to make you one.

-Prefers to sit down and watch a movie together, preferably hugging and warm!!

-Overall, a Christmas not even Sukuna could steal (probably, anyway..)

@darlingofsatoru on Tumblr only, no reposts <3

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httpswritings · 4 months

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the cold feels me — katie mccabe x reader.

warnings: none

words: 433

Summary: Katie begging you to put your clothes on before you get sick.

Katie and you were walking down the street to see the Christmas lights of your neighborhood.

You were wearing three layers of clothes: A shirt, a grayish jumper and a long black coat, as well as a pair of gloves; white, velvet texture earmuffs; mom jeans covering your legs; thick socks and a pair of boots.

Meanwhile, Katie was only wearing a reddish sweatshirt, a white tank top under, with long pants and sneakers.

Not five minutes into your walk, Katie began to feel too warm to her liking, so she took her sweatshirt off.

“You may tolerate cold temperatures, but it won't make you immune to pneumonia”, you said as you rolled your eyes. As soon as you saw her that covered before stepping out of your house, you knew she was going to take that piece of clothing before you arrived to your destination place.

“Don't overreact. It's not that cold. See? My hands are fine. A bit red, but there's nothing to worry about.”

Katie’s stubbornness was a huge part of her personality. You knew that you wouldn't be able to convince her if you kept begging her to put some clothes off.

Instead, you decided to play her game.

“Fine. It isn't that cold, right?”

Katie nodded.

“Then, I’ll follow your example and take some clothes on. Let's play this game together.”

The Irishwoman rushed to put your coat over your shoulders.

“What's wrong with you!? Just because i'm not cold, it doesn't mean that you aren't! Put this thing back on.”

“I’m not afraid of the cold.” You winked.

“I swear, Y/N, put your coat on, or I’ll start taking more of my clothes off. It's fucking freezing out here.”

“But you said that you weren—”

“I was talking about myself, not about you. I give you five seconds to put your coat back on or else I’ll take off my clothes.”

“You wouldn't dare to be naked in the middle of the street.”

“Oh, yes, I would. Don't try me.”

“Then, I’ll do the same until I have nothing else to get rid of.”

Katie sighed.

“You can end this nonsense by putting your sweatshirt back on, baby. I know you have a high tolerance for low temperatures, but I don't want you to get sick.”

Your girlfriend finally accepted to wear her dark red sweater again as you put your coat back on.

“Let's go. We're gonna be late and—”, a quick sneeze stopped you from talking.

Katie’s jaw dropped. “There's no way, Y/N.”

You laughed at her surprised expression.

“I’m not laughing.”

“Too bad.”

#katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader

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nouvxllev · 4 months

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the girl across your street || p2

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: You both greeted each other. You lifted your scarf down to reveal a huge grin on your face, complementing Jenna's own. "I was waiting for you." Jenna lowered her music, hearing your voice was more of a symphony than any other artist she listened to.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: None

part 3 || masterlist

It was snowy. Too snowy for your liking, and definitely way too snowy for a Wednesday morning. Too damn early for a snowstorm to happen. Walking through the snow was a bit of a struggle, and you could barely keep your balance without tumbling altogether. But it was worth it, you say to yourself, if you got the chance to talk with Jenna again, enduring the freezing cold was a small price to pay for the chance to hear her voice.

Your hands were tucked so deep in your pockets that they might as well have become a part of your body. Layers of scarves covered your face, and your headphones doubled as earmuffs, topped with a beanie. You were dressed in a thousand sweaters and puffy jackets, and somehow, you're still so cold.

Music was, of course, blasting in your ears. But this time, instead of the usual songs with a mellow tune, it was gradually becoming happier, and you even threw in some Christmas tunes into the mix. Yes, it was cold, but it wasn't every day (even though it actually was) that you could inhale fresh air from your neighborhood without the scent of dog poop all around.

Turning around, you followed the route to Jenna's street, a path that could put the Wizard of Oz to shame. Dare you say, it was your happy place on earth, which, in all honesty, it was.

Stopping at that familiar sidewalk, you looked to your side and easily spotted possibly the most gorgeous being to ever walk this God-forsaken planet.

Jenna.

She was sitting on the bench, fully covered in snow from yesterday's storm. Even objects couldn't withstand the snowfall. With her knees curled up to her chest, she listened to music with closed eyes, and just like you, bundled up from head to toe with layers of puffy clothing. She almost looked like a penguin.

You attempted to run to her, almost falling because of the piled-up snow. Once you reached her spot, you had to take deep breaths and exhales.

Jenna looked up at you, having possibly already heard your footsteps coming closer to her, and her eyes seemingly lit up.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You both greeted each other. You lifted your scarf down to reveal a huge grin on your face, complementing Jenna's own.

"I was waiting for you." Jenna lowered her music, hearing your voice was more of a symphony than any other artist she listened to.

"You shouldn't have. It's freezing here!" You exclaimed, and you could even see your breath, and Jenna's, becoming a cold mist.

"Says the girl who walked in piles of snow to get here. Oh, what would your efforts be without me sitting on this bench?"

"Yeah… yeah, you're right." You stuttered, your lips becoming cold, and your nose turning red.

"Let's go inside before you get sent off to the North Pole to do Santa's bidding."

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

Both of you were seated on Jenna's couch, surrounded by the warmth of the fireplace she had lit just for the two of you to be cozy. The scent of the applewood coming from the fireplace, combined with the overall aroma of Jenna's house—perhaps from the various candles you assumed her parents brought—created the perfect atmosphere. You swear to yourself that you were living in wonderland at this point.

In the quietness of her home, you could feel and hear your heartbeat. The crackle of the fireplace and the distant chirping of birds in the background made you forget that you were a human being. That is, until Jenna spoke.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" She turned to you, grinning, her voice husky. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she still wore her beanie, with headphones comfortably resting on her neck.

You looked at her, blinking. "Out of all the questions, you ask me something super cliche?"

"Hey, it gets the conversation going." Her face contorted, mocking an offended expression before letting a smile creep out of her lips.

You glanced off for a moment, then nodded your head with a slight smile. "Guess it does." You adjusted yourself on the sofa, thinking of a favorite horror movie you'd rewatch anytime if any genre suddenly disappeared.

"I'll pick… I'll pick Scream." You turned to her, giving her a series of affirmative nods. In truth, you weren't a big fan of the horror genre, but you caught yourself watching it from time to time.

"Ooh, classic." Jenna's face lit up, clicking her tongue. "You got that because of the opening question I used?"

"Actually, yeah, kind of. It's just one movie off the top of my head, and hey, it is a classic. Who couldn't?"

"Points to you on that one," she said, starting to get up. She fetched the remote and a few DVDs from a drawer near the TV, which sat atop the fireplace.

"What about you? Your favorite scary movie," you questioned, your gaze following her every move.

"I'd say... 'Possession' by Andrzej Żuławski, 1981. You've got to appreciate the production quality on that one." She turned to you, showing you the DVD for that exact movie, then shuffled it.

"Blood, guts, gore?"

"Surprisingly only minimal blood, guts, and gore. It's this psychological horror movie that's so hauntingly beautiful, it's almost scary. I love a good film that gives you some kind of adrenaline rush." A radiant glow emanated from her as she talked about her favorite movie and described it.

Your gaze was fixated on her, as if she should be the last thing you'll see before meeting your demise.

"So are we gonna watch Scream or are we gonna watch Scream?" She then showed you the two DVDs, both copies of the first Scream movie. One autographed by Wes Craven himself, and one clean fresh off the drawer.

"You've given me a lot of choices there," you snarked, raising a brow as you reached for the autographed DVD in Jenna's hands. "Wes Craven?" you exclaimed. "The Wes Craven!?"

She chuckled at your reaction, a grin forming on her lips. "The one and only," she said, tucking her hands behind her back. "I have some connections, thanks to my mother, who was friends with many directors, including someone who worked with Wes Craven on the Scream set. So, I asked if he had any DVDs signed by Wes Craven and gave it to me."

"We've got to watch this," you declared, flipping the DVD in your hands before handing it back to Jenna.

Jenna scoffed, "Is the ending going to change just because it's autographed by Wes Craven?" She walked toward the DVD player, plugging it in.

"Hey, you might never know." You hear the nostalgic sound of the disk being inserted, and you were somehow once again transported to when you first watched your first movie via DVD.

"I'm surprised you still use DVD players," you commented, watching Jenna move away from the TV and then sit back down with you.

"It's just that feeling of inserting the CD that makes the movie more worthwhile."

You shrugged it off, "Guess you're right," and the Scream logo appeared before your eyes, the sounds of someone shrieking in the background to give it all that horror effect. You had seen this movie countless of times, maybe even more whenever you were bored out of your mind and needed something to scare you once in a while. But somehow, watching it with Jenna, feels like a whole new life.

Minutes passed, and the opening scene finished. A masterpiece in itself you would say, it really never gets old.

Jenna chuckled at some parts, making you turn your head slightly. She'd probably make a good Ghostface.

"Do you think I'd make a great actor someday, y/n?" The question came abruptly, and you looked at her. She was still facing the movie, the reflection of the TV screen in her eyes. Even from afar, you could see the glint in her eyes, you can see the glint in her eyes on how much she awes horror movies, and even movies in general. Maybe that's why she popped the question.

"Yeah…? I don't know. I really haven't seen you act before."

"Hey, I can fake cry pretty good." She adjusted herself, her body now facing towards yours.

"Really? Then... I’ll give you… 5 bucks to fake cry right now!" You pulled out your sad excuse of a wallet, nothing but coins and a dollar was inside of it.

Jenna laughed, a voice you horribly feel head over heels for. "You’re paying me to fake cry? For 5 bucks? Come on, dude," she remarked, pushing your money away.

You scoffed then rolled your eyes, insisting that she should take the money regardless by handing it to her despite her hand being in the way. "You’re going to be in the acting industry, Jenna! People are gonna pay you for your acting skills! Take it as like... training.”

"Okay, okay…" She held up both hands then took a deep breath, opening her eyes, focused. Atleast, she tried to.

She let out a chuckle, a wheeze some would say. "I can’t fake cry when you look at me like that!" She debated, her hands speaking for herself as she gestured towards you.

"Like what?"

The whole room went silent for about a second, Jenna observing your features up and down. Or, atleast, that's what you think in your head of yours.

"Like… some sort of freak."

"I look like a freak?" You pointed towards yourself, a playful tone in your voice as a sly grin appear on your lips, your eyes widening in curiosity.

Jenna's mouth hung open, "That was so far from my intentions!" Her voice high-pitched, trying to convince you in some sort of way.

“Okay, we both know that was definitely your intentions, if not harsher."

"I did not!"

"Oh Jenna, Jenna, Jenna... denying it makes you look guilty."

You both continued to playfully twist eachothers words, coming up with clever comebacks with eachother and just full on playful banter as the TV played Scream. Not really the most ideal movie to play with when you're about to explode since you were playfully bickering like an old married couple to your long-time crush.

After minutes of laughter, you both finally calmed down, shifting your positions on the sofa to sit on the floor, backs against the sofa.

You looked over to Jenna, a smile gracing your lips. "You're going to become a great actor, Jenna. I just know it." Glancing down, you noticed her hand close to yours. You wanted to take hold of it, you really did, whisper sweet nothings, and tell her she'd be the rising star in everyone's hearts. If not, then your heart will be preserved for all of eternity to let her be the star of yours. If it sounded corny, but, that was just how you felt.

"How? Are you some all-seeing Goddess?" She looked towards you, her eyebrows knitting but she kept smile.

"If that what it takes for you to believe in me, then yeah, I guess I am."

"You’re a dork, y/n. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Someone by the name of Jenna."

She chuckled at that, seemingly aware of the effect she had on you, even though you'd only met a couple of days ago.

The fireplace was starting to die down, along with the setting sun. Streetlights flickered on, and snow began to form outside.

"Y/n… Where are you going to spend Christmas?" Jenna asked, her voice filled with concern. "I'm surprised your parents aren't wondering why you're always going out early and coming back so late." She looked at you, noticing your head was down, and your smile was a bit crooked.

"My parents… my parents aren't exactly here. So that's a plus, right? They won't be able to lecture me and all." You laughed, albeit slightly, a broken laugh.

Jenna's eyes widened, her body turning towards you. "Oh. Oh, God, I'm sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have—"

You furrowed your eyebrows until you understood what she misunderstood. "Oh, no— No! They aren't dead. They're just busy with work and all. They're from all the way across the globe, so…" You reached for your pocket, grabbing your phone, which had been uncharacteristically turned off for the whole day.

A picture of your family flashed on the screen, capturing a moment of shared smiles. You didn't know it would be the last picture you'd take together.

"They won't come visit?"

"They don't really text me that often, let alone when they're coming back." A smile tried to tug at your lips, Jennas concern slightly making you feel better about yourself.

"But hey, it'll be a Christmas miracle if they do." You chuckled, a light-hearted joke to lift the mood.

Silence overcame the room, wondering if you had said something wrong or overshared too much. Your hands became clammy as Jenna stayed silent, contemplating whether you should excuse yourself and never come back to her house ever again and change routes. Or maybe even change towns and your full government name.

"Why don't you spend Christmas with my family for a bit?" Jenna asked, her voice filled with hope.

Turning to her, you tilted your head with a scrunched-up face. "Really? Are… Are you sure it's okay? We just met like… a couple of days ago."

She looked down, avoiding your eyes, taking your hand with hers and rubbing her thumb against the back of your hand. "You're one of the few people I let into my heart, y/n. And my family will literally bombard you with love like you've never felt before. I'm sure they'll like you."

You smiled at that, and before you knew it, you accepted her offer. It was nighttime when you stepped outside Jenna's house, the snow becoming heavier and taller than ever.

You fell into a routine of meeting Jenna every morning. You'd wake up earlier than usual, then walk through piles of snow to get to her house. How she hadn't suspected that you had a massive crush on her was beyond you.

You even spent Christmas with her and her family, who welcomed you with open arms. Smiles all around, and you even got her little cousins to like you as if you were their big sister. You never felt at home more than anything. It was as if they were your own family, a family that was always home for you. You kind of teared up a bit at the thought, seeing how someone else's family brought out the happiest version of you rather than your own.

You were happy.

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tag/s: @moistblobfish

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

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mysicklove · 7 months

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

DAY 4: SENSORY DEPRIVATION

With: Kyojuro Rengoku

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Sub! Kyojuro, gn! reader, blindfold/gag/earmuffs, feather usage, ice usage, nonverbal safe word discussed (not used), implied wax play, crying, begging/pleading, reader is a liar.

A/N: Everytime i wrote about his happy trail i thought of ashi. LOL. also this fic is a mess im going to be honest. not my best work, my friends.

Rengoku doesn't understand why he was put in this position. He doesn't understand why he has a blindfold on with his arms tied together behind him, and his legs strapped to the bottom of the chair. He doesn't understand why he has a small black gag in his mouth and pink fluffy earmuffs.

The thing was, Kyojuro struggles with restraints. He just can't seem to sit still when he receives pleasure. He wants desperately to obey your commands, but your touch always sends him spiralling, and his body always jerks and twitches without meaning to. He has accidentally knocked your hand away so many times when you overstimulate him, or forced your hand back onto his cock when you edge him. It was just a force of habit, and he always apologizes profusely when he does so. Its not like he means to disobey you.

So, tying him up was the next best option. Plus, depriving him of his senses was just because you were feeling cruel, and you wanted to see how strongly he was bound to react with your touch.

So here he was, completely at your mercy, shivering slightly from what you could guess fear or guilt. He has never done anything to make him deserve a “punishment”, but you were mean. He just looked so pretty when his face was contorted in fear, you couldnt help yourself.

Rengokus blindfold was already dampening with tears as he continues to tremble under your view. His whole world is dark, and everything is silent. The lack of his senses was a strange feeling, and it overwhelmed him. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm sorry. Im sorry," He pleads into the gag, the words coming out so muffled you can barely make out the apologies.

You grab his chin, and press a kiss to his temple, his cheek, and his neck. Immediately he seems to calm down, and you take this time to remove just one of his earmuffs. “Did nothing wrong, Kyo. There is no need to cry.”

He jumps at the sudden sound, and turns to where your voice was coming from. He sniffles, but nods, leaning his head forward to hopefully coax out more affection from you. You smile at him and move to rest your palm on his cheek. He nuzzles it immediately, thankful for any touch. The darkness and the silence made him feel alone, and he was grateful to have some sort of reassurance.

Your hands graze at his thighs, and he flinches at the feeling, breathing into the muzzle. “Not going anywhere, relax pretty. I'm here,” You coo, using your other hand to run through his hair. He seems to finally begin to melt, his arms no longer struggling against the restraints, and his body refrained from shivering. “Gonna make you feel good, yeah?”

He doesn't even try to speak, the gag wouldnt allow him to anyways. But he nods his head obediently, trying not to move too much from excitement. You kiss his cheek again, hardly containing yourself from how cute he is. Then, you reach back and place a small bell into his hands. He slightly cocks his head to the side, no doubt furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “If you want to stop, ring that. Can you do that for me?”

He nods determinedly, and then rings it to test it out. Immediately, like a puppy, he turns to you, expectantly awaiting his reward for listening. You indulge him, giggling slightly and kissing the space right below his ears, one of his erogenous zones. He groans into the gag, accidentally pulling at the restraints once again. “Good boy!” You praise, and it sends his head spinning. “Now, ring that whenever you feel uncomfortable and I will stop, alright?” He nods his head. “Good. I'm not going to hurt you tonight Kyo, so you can relax.”

You fingers continue to drag along the area inches from his now hard dick, eyeing it contently. It sticks up proud, and seems to be begging to be touched. You smile and turn back to him, watching the way his chest raises from his breath in steady motions. “I'm going to put your earmuffs back on, so it's going to be a little quiet. It'll just make all the touches more pleasurable, I promise.”

He nods his head, and lets out a gargled, “love you,” through the gag, to which you smile, and murmur your own words of endearment. Then, you cover his ear with the earmuffs, and sigh.

Like a predator stalking their prey, you circle the chair for a second, overwhelmed at the possibilities of what to do to him first. Your fingers drag over his neck and then trace down his arm. He shivers with every movement, feeling goosebumps rise with every graze of your finger. Its overwhelmingly sensitive, and he swears he can almost feel your breath on his skin. His sense of touch was heightened with the lack of the others.

Your mouth latches onto his neck, slightly nibbling at the sensitive skin. He pants into the gag, and slightly bares his neck to give you more room. You pull away for a moment, and blow on his neck, sending his whole body into a fit of shivers. You cant help but giggle at the action, and place your hand on his thigh in mock comfort.

Your head was growing foggy from the meer power you felt over him. He was completely at your mercy, and other than viciously fight at the restrains, he could do nothing. Of course you loved him, and would never dare to do something he didn't like, but you couldn't help but tease him just a little. You may have lied about the “only” pleasure aspect of it.

You sit yourself on his lap, startling him. Baring no mind to his reaction, you lean up and kiss his chin in reassurance, before turning to your right and grabbing the object you have been dying to use.

A dainty white feather. Something so soft and fragile, that is going to send your lover into a spiral. The thought made your mouth water, and Kyojuro, almost sensing your thoughts, visibly gulps.

You first run your own fingers over his chest, grazing over his nipples. He remains motionless, but you can see him tense. His chest was a very sensitive part of his body, and he was afraid of what was to come next. Rightfully so.

You pull away, and glance downward toward his abdomen. With a wicked grin, you take a hold onto the feather and graze his lower stomach, just where his happy trail begins. Its a light touch, and you barely even skim the surface of his skin, but the reaction is immediate. Another full body shiver, seemingly from the ticklish feeling this time.

You hum, pleased with the reaction, and continue your antics upward. His pants grow louder into the gag with the passing seconds. Finally, the feather drags along his chest. The spot you have been most curious to see.

The feather glides over his nipple and he lets out a garbled whine. The buds harden in an instant and he nervously shakes his head. You ignore it and continue your movements, circling his chest.

Rengoku twitches under your hold and pulls against the restraints. He is so unbelievably sensitive there, and with the addition to the blind fold and earmuffs, he swears the feather is borderline overstimulating him. He can feel every bristle of it, and the cool air it pushes towards him when you slightly flap it. It sends him into a frenzy. It's too much, but too little. He wants more of the stimulation, but he also wants to pull away. He wants you to be rougher with him, but the idea of that makes him nervous.

He doesn't know what he wants, and just like usual, he begins to tug at the restrains, body uncontrollably twitching. His chest tries to cave inward from the ticklish feeling, but he doesn't go far considering the restraints. He just continues to shake his head back and forth, high pitched yelps and complaints barely making it through the gag.

“Aw baby, are you sensitive there?” You tease mostly to yourself, knowing he can't hear you all things considering. His squirms make you giggle, and you take vague notice to the bright hair that shakes from side to side from his sporadic movements.

It tickles so much. It tickles and it feels good, and it hurts, and it is too soft, and he is losing his mind. The feeling of being bound, forced to take everything you give him only seems to make the feather more tortuous.

He feels it begin to move downward, and Kyojuro heaves, trying to catch his breath after holding it for so long. His mouth clentches around the gag, and he tries to calm down his body.

But of course, he can feel the feather move downward and oh. Oh no. He couldn't handle it down there. It was too sensitive.

He whips his head back and forth and whines into the gag. It comes out as a broken plea, and he can't hear your response, but he hopes you may take his noises to heart. He didn't get his hopes up.

The feather brushes around the tip, and Kyojuro yelps, jerking so much that the chair beneath him lifts up just slightly. You send a warning slap to his thigh, and he cries out, the tears beginning to flow again. It hurt more now that he couldnt see it. He apologizes through the gag, but it doesn't do much, other than make him drool all over himself.

You trace it up and down his cock, and he begins to tremble again. His dick is twitching with every stroke, and honestly it enamored you how reactive it was being. Cute.

One of your hands move back up his chest, thumbing at the nub, while the other continues its slow, light movements of the feather. Bringing it from the head, all the way down to his balls, giggling when your hear his cries.

“Not pweasure! Not pweasure!” He sobs, his thighs trembling. It tickled so much he couldn't stand it and with the addition of your fingers pinching his nipples, he was crumbling. You lied to him. He was supposed to feel good. Not to be teased to till he cant breathe anymore. You are so cruel.

Of course he couldnt say anything, nor use pleading eyes to beg for you to stop. But his body jerking back and forth, trying desperately to get anyway from your hands and the horrible, horrible feather definitely convey his emotions.

You grab one more item to end up the scene, finally setting down the feather. To continue on with little warning on what you had stored for him was cruel, even for you. But, of course you will have fun watching his reaction to this.

You place the small item in the palm of your hand, and gently bring it over to his cock. Then with a sadistic grin, you drag it down the shaft.

The first thing Kyojuro feels after the removal of the feather was cold. So unbearably cold, and right on his dick.

Ice. It had to be.

The chair comes lifting off the ground again from his quick movements to get away. He's screaming into the gag, and shaking his head profusely, begging for you to take it away. It was so cold, and he was so sensitive. His hands pull at the restraints and his body tries, and fails to crumble inward himself.

The blindfold slips off one of his eyes and he finally gets a view of you. His eyes are glassy, and flooded with tears, and his eyebrows are adorably furrowed in a plea. He makes a noise when you pull the ice away slightly, and you look up at him.

“Aw Kyo, you want to see that badly?” You coo, and he can barely read your lips from the tears. He shakes his head and sobs, head hanging low. You bring the ice cube to his chest and he whines, eyes screwing shut automatically as his nipples harden. The cool water stains his chest, and he is shivering under it.

His hips and back drive into the chair, to try to create some distance from the horrible coldness. It doesn't work, and his one eye watches the way the ice cube coats the dark patch of hair on his lower abdomen, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. It was making his way back to his groin, and all Kyojuro can do is cry, and hope you be easy on him. He can't stand the cold. He was made for heat.

One hand grabs onto his cock, steading the trembling thing, and the other holds onto the cube. “Well, if you want to watch so badly, might as well give you a show,” You whisper, and Kyojuro cant read your lips this time. So, he stares at you with mild confusion and fear as to what you are going to do next.

With one last malicious glance, you place the ice cube on top of the tip, and swirl it around his hole. He screams again, back arching, and staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. You don't let up even when his legs try again and again to shut, but ultimately fail.

He can feel the cool liquid drip into his slit, and he feels as if he cannot breathe. It was one of the strongest sensations he has ever felt before, and his fingers dig into his palm to help steady himself. It was so cold. Unbelievably cold, and the water was dripping inside him, in a place where it should not be.

Kyojuro didnt know what to do other than take it. The silence of it all was driving him even more mad, and he wonders if having him see this was worst than being blindfolded.

Your circular motions dont let up, and eventually it's the ice that begins to melt, considering how hot the hashira runs. You rub it over his now slightly shrinking dick, and his whole body is shivering. But, his whines and cries have finally gone down, instead just loud pants to try and catch his breath. He must be growing used to it.

This was a good stopping point. You run the remainder of the cube over the throbbing tip again, and he whimpers slightly, but it doesn't compare to what the noises he made before. You kiss his thighs, and drop the sliver of ice back into the metal bin, whipping your hands on your shirt.

He did well. It was impressive really. How good he did. But, you didnt expect anything else from your lover.

You smile to yourself, and then reach up to remove the earmuffs and blindfold. But strangely enough, Kyojuros one free eye wasn't looking at you. His whole neck was staring to the right while his chests rise and fall with heavy breaths, as if he was entranced by something. Drool coats his mouth, but he doesn't seem to notice, so enthralled at what he is staring at.

You follow his gaze, eyes widening when you see it.

You watch as the candle you lit earlier to set the mood, drips with wax. It falls onto the candle stand, and Kyojuro stares with hearts in his eyes as if mesmerized by the wax.

You let out a shaky breath, turning to him on last time, reading his mind. He glances at you and nods every so slightly, with a small huffs. You grin at him, readjusting his blindfold and grabbing the candle. You watch Rengokus adams' apple bob as he gulps in both fear and excitement.

He was shivering so much, it was like he was in dire need to warm up. And you had just the solution for him, and instantaneous way to heat up his skin again.. A drop of wax drips onto Kyojuros thigh, and the man does his best to not scream at the burning sensation.

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#mello.writes #Barkforme!#Kinktober 2023 #dom! reader #dom reader #gn reader #x reader #reader insert #kyojuro smut #kyojuro x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader smut #kny smut #kny x reader #kny kyojuro

836 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

love and mandrakes

sirius black x gn!reader

word count: 5,220

warnings: swearing, fluff, i think that's literally it, but let me know if it's not

a/n: hi! so this is new!!! a new character!! sirius black is the loml, and i've been working on this for what feels like forever. i'm really proud of it, and i hope that maybe some of you will like it. it's been very fun to explore a new universe and the marauders as a whole. i hope you enjoy this!! love you 3000 <333

————

The greenhouse windows are frosty this morning, and you can feel the chill seeping in through the thin glass panes. You fight the urge to lift your finger, using the tip to draw a face in the condensation gathering on the one nearest you.

You’re stood at the back of the greenhouse, like always. You’ve never liked to be very close to Professor Sprout–certainly not because of any disdain towards the woman–but for the fear that she’d have something negative to say about your work. This is despite the fact that she’s been nothing but kind to you regarding every plant that’s ever been in your care.

Really it’s just that you’d beat yourself up if you killed a plant that makes you so determined to do well.

You’re twenty minutes early for class today. Early enough that it’s just you and Professor Sprout in the greenhouse. Everyone else likes to stumble in within the five minutes before class begins.

But clearly, that’s not quite the case this morning. The greenhouse doors open, both rather than just one, and Professor Sprout turns to greet whoever it is.

“Good morning, Mr. Black.”

You look up. Sirius Black is never early to class. If anything, he’s usually either not there at all, or the absolute last one to find his way in, perhaps a half hour late, if not more. He sidles up to Remus Lupin, and suddenly they've got a lovely little group project on their hands.

“Remus won’t be in today, Professor.” Sirius gives her a look that you assume is supposed to induce sympathy on her part. “Seems he’s got a cold.”

Pomona has never found it in herself to be frustrated with the boy, unlike the majority of her colleagues. She’s one of the few professors at the school to not harbor particularly malicious feelings towards the boy. He might be a troublemaker, but who isn’t at that age?

She’s been briefed on what his home life is like, too, and who he has to put up with. And since she was a young girl, Pomona has been determined to give everyone a fair chance.

"Thank you for letting me know," she tells him.

You watch as Professor Sprout heads to a supply closet and begins to pull out heaps of gloves and what look to be earmuffs, messily tossing away the things she doesn’t need. You're lost in observing her, so consequently the voice sounding a few inches from your ear startles you.

"You always in this early?" Sirius has materialized next to you, the beginnings of a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth.

You glance at his hand where it lingers over the stem of a plant you’re not sure he should dare to touch. He’s got a ring on every finger excepting his thumb.

“Usually,” you say. It occurs to you that these are some of the first words you've ever spoken to the boy, if you don’t count bare minimum exchanges in the odd class. “I like it back here.”

You like it back there because less people can look at you. Because having to sit somewhere else stresses you out, not to mention throws you off. You feel safe in your little corner.

Sirius withdraws his hand from the questionable plant and raises his head. His eyes bore into yours. They’re the strangest shade of blue. It seems to shift in the light, and sometimes they look almost gray. He grins, and then begins to scan the area around the both of you.

“Suppose it is nice. Maybe I’ll stay back here with you. Wouldn’t want you to be lonely, you know.”

You snort at that and he quirks a brow at your amusement. Sirius pushes his hair behind his ear and you realize he’s got a silver industrial piercing.

“That hurt too bad?” You ask, gesturing towards the jewelry and hoping he knows what you mean. He does.

His thumb skips over the metal ball at one end, coming back to fiddle with a section of his robes. He leans forward, grinning at you. His smile is wide. The corners of his mouth tick up mischievously, smile lines conveying layers of mischief you know he must have hidden in that mind of his.

“Probably wouldn’t have as much if I’d gone to a shop.”

You gasp lightly, thinking about it getting infected and Sirius having a bloody mess on his hands.

“You did it yourself?” You ask, eyes wide and full of concern.

He laughs. It’s a gorgeous sound, deep and friendly. Warm.

“I was prohibited,” he says, pressing a scandalized hand to his chest. “Remus did it for me over break, while my brother played nurse.”

“Well it looks nice,” you tell him, palms beginning to sweat. You find his presence to be slightly overwhelming. “I mean I think so.”

“Thank you, sweets.” He bends slightly at the waist, hand over his stomach, and it’s a gesture you might take as being that of an asshole, if it weren’t for his voice being so kind.

You hum in place of a you’re welcome, trying to will away the swarm of butterflies in your tummy. They’re being rather aggressive.

“And for the record,” he adds, “Remus was very strict with my cleaning regimen, so I did not get any infections if that’s what you’ve been contemplating.”

“That’s good.” You smile. You’re not sure it’s anywhere near as pretty as his.

Professor Sprout claps her hands, startling you. Today is really not your day. Sirius snorts at your jolt, but when you glance at him he’s pretending to be intensely focused on your instructor.

“Morning, everyone!” she begins. “Today, as you may have guessed, we will start our lessons on Mandrakes. This particular lesson will focus on basic knowledge, as well as care, but come next class, your actual project will begin.”

“You’re going to need a partner, so I’ll give you a few minutes now to choose, that way you can prepare with one another prior to the main exercise.”

All at once, everyone turns to this person and that, chattering and deliberating. It seems everyone has someone.

Your heart starts to pound, and you wonder if maybe Professor Sprout might let you work independently. Pairs are forming, and you can feel yourself being left out, pushed to the edges of society. Maybe that’s dramatic, but it’s how you feel.

You lean against the table behind you, hoping that she won’t call you out for not having a partner. That is until there’s a figure in front of you.

“What’d you think, huh? Shall we work together?” Sirius stands so that you have no other choice but to look back at him. It’d come off rude to not maintain eye contact at this distance.

You feel yourself burn and can’t help but wonder if this is some sort of cruel joke.

“Wouldn’t you rather wait and join Remus?” You ask, fingernails picking at the wooden underside of the table.

“You think I’m using you as a fill-in?”

You shrug, rubbing your nose. “We’ve quite literally never spoken an actual conversation before today. I just thought you’d want to work with your friend and not some stranger.”

“Well there’s a first for everything, isn’t there? And you’re not a stranger. I see you all the time.”

You sigh. He grins, ever pleased with himself.

“You don’t want to be friends with me?” He teases.

“I—”

“No, it’s quite alright. I’ll see if good ‘ol Mona will help me out.” He turns like he’s going to march away, though his feet barely move. He’s not going anywhere and you both know it.

“Holy shit,” you start. “Just shut up. Go and get the gloves then.”

Sirius grins. “Demanding, aren’t we?”

He does go and get them though, returning with two sets of gloves and a pair of shears, as Professor Sprout had instructed.

“Today, we will focus on tending to your Mandrakes. I want you, in your pairs, to check the soil and water as needed. I also want you to trim the leaves, as these have been left to run amok for a while. To work!”

Chatter erupts around you, bouncing against the glass walls of the greenhouse.

You fetch a watering can while the area is still free, and Sirius fills it up for you. You notice that your Mandrake is severely lacking the soil it needs. It’s not very well off at all.

“Do you see this?” You ask him, gesturing towards where the roots are showing, clearly dehydrated and with nowhere to sprawl out and grow. “She’s got us treating the wounded.”

Sirius crosses his arms. “That’s a damn shame now, isn’t it? Guess we better heal this thing then.”

“Are you fucking with me?” You ask, eyes darting up to meet his.

“No, I swear. I can tell you’re into this. It’s not my best subject.”

“Well you know what they say.”

“What do they say?” His eyes are gleaming. That’s the best word you can think to use for it.

“Teamwork makes the dream work.”

He rolls the very same eyes. “I’d like a new partner after that one.”

You laugh, and Sirius feels a pang in his chest. Like he’s taken a blade to the heart, and he can’t do anything but let it happen. Your laugh is such a sweet sound and he worries it might be the death of him.

You slip your gloves on and start trimming the leaves that have to go. There’s quite a few of them, but luckily they seem to be towards the bottom of the stem, and you think once you’re able to water it, the Mandrake might have a chance.

You finish with the shears, and set them down. You look up at Sirius, and your eyes catch a group of buttons on the shoulder of his robes. His hair had been covering them before. You find yourself feeling warm inside, as one in particular tickles your fancy.

“I like your pin,” you say.

His brows shoot up, “Which?”

You use your pinky and tap the glossy finish. He watches. “That one.”

“The Queen one?”

You nod, shoving some more soil into your pot to try and save the roots.

“You listen to them?” Sirius leans down so that his face is next to the Mandrake and in your line of sight. He’s got this brilliant grin. It’s worrying you. For a moment you think he might say something cruel, but the look in his eye is almost boyish.

“Yeah,” you say. “My mom is a muggle. Fell for a dorky wizard boy. So she’s raised me on loads of good stuff.”

“Lucky duck, you.”

You snort and then look up at him, though he's already been looking at you. His eyes haven't left you the whole time you've been working. He finds the way you treat the plant as if it has feelings to be charming. He wonders if you take care of everyone like that. Or maybe even yourself.

You move the soil pouch towards him. "You gonna help me?"

He slips his gloves back on. They really don't match anything he's wearing, and frankly it bothers him a bit. "Of course, of course."

He starts tending to the plant and you watch, noticing the bumps left in the gloves where his rings are hiding underneath.

"Feed her, Seymour," you say, and Sirius whips his head towards you.

"Who the fuck is Seymour?"

"Muggle film. Musical actually. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry for exposing your nerdiness. What's the film about? Talk to me," he proclaims, wincing at the state of his soil work.

“This guy, Seymour, finds a plant, and he tries to take care of it, you know, as you do, but he figures out it only wants blood and meat to eat and that’s what he feeds it, so it keeps growing and growing until it’s big enough that it starts eating people.”

Sirius looks at you with wonder in his eyes, and starts to laugh. "Are you fucking with me, love?"

You start to smile, one that you at first try to suppress, but it ends up spreading across your face, softening your features. Sirius thinks maybe it's the prettiest smile he's ever seen. He can't get over the way the lines around your mouth form, or the way your cheeks bunch and your eyes light up.

"No, I promise."

The boy tugs his gloves off, having finished salvaging the soil for your plant. "Killer plants, huh?"

"Indeed," you say. "You know Mandrakes are killer too, right?"

"Stop."

You start to water the plant, trying your best not to drown the damn thing. "What do you think the earmuffs are for, dumbass?"

You immediately regret calling him a dumbass, thinking you may have crossed a line--it's not like you know him all that well, you've only been speaking for this one class period--but he only smiles at you.

For some reason, you find him easy to be around. He doesn't scare you.

"It's cold."

"Because it's cold? No. After we save the plants we have to re-pot them, and when we take them out they're going to scream. Their cries are fatal, Sirius."

He stares at you. Remus did not tell him this. Technically he could've read his textbook, but clearly he didn't.

"That seems highly uncalled for."

You chuckle and he grins again.

"I agree,” you say. “Have you got the time?”

Sirius pushes his sleeve up, glancing at the watch tight around his left wrist. “We’ve got five minutes left.”

You look up, and notice Professor Sprout removing her gloves. If you’d waited to ask for just a moment longer, she would’ve begun her everyone-get-your-shit-together-and-get-out-of-here speech.

“Students, your attention please!” Professor Sprout’s cheeks are rosy, tufts of curls sticking out from under the brim of her hat.

“Next class we’ll try and get the Mandrakes repotted, so that they may grow to their full potential and can then be used as needed for Madam Pomphrey. You’ll need to come and water your plants periodically throughout the week, as these tend to drink rather quickly, so I suggest you alternate days with your companion.”

When you’ve finished and you’re outside once again, it’s misty, your skin dampening with each step you take.

You feel a hand on your elbow, and Sirius has appeared next to you. Frankly, you hadn’t expected him to continue contact with you.

The both of you had discussed what days you’d water you plant, and you assumed that was that.

“I’ve realized we’re co-parenting a Mandrake,” he starts, “and I feel as though I should at least know a little something about the mother of my child.” You raise your eyebrows at him. “You know, to ensure that they don’t grow up lacking proper guardianship.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say, hopping over a puddle.

He tosses his head back, laughing, and you feel your insides go all warm and gooey at how his hair moves with the motion. You can’t help but wonder what it feels like.

“First, you don’t want to be friends, and now, you want our child to be one of divorce.”

You stop, resting your forehead against the cool stone of one of the courtyard walls.

“Sirius, we haven’t even been married.”

He presses his forehead against the stone next to you, and you turn to look at him. “I’m pretty sure there are a good bit of people who’ve been married and know less about each other than we do,” he says.

You smile at the wall and he catches it.

“Besides, we’ve got the same music taste, and that means I’ve got to keep you around.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, that’s how this works. Didn’t you know?”

You brush at the side of your robes where you’ve now gotten moss remains on them. “I was not aware, no.”

“Haven’t you got class or something?” You ask him. His cheeks are pink from the cold, a stark contrast from the chill of his eyes, the sharp black of his hair.

“Not for another hour. You?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“So tell me something quick.” He spins a ring around his finger, a chunky silver one with something set into the center. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?”

He smiles. It’s gorgeous and full-fledged. You can’t believe he’s looking at you like that. It feels like some big error.

“Sorry I set myself up for that one,” you say. “Um, it’s green.”

“Lovely. Now what shade of green are we talking?”

“Sirius.” You pout.

“Come on now, chop chop.” He snaps his fingers. “Thought you had an excuse to ditch me or something?”

You roll your eyes. It seems that cocky ass grin never leaves his face. “Like a forest green. Trees and such.”

Sirius claps his hands together, metal clinking. “That’s fantastic. I’ll be sure to remember it. Mine’s purple, by the way, thank you for asking.”

“I bet you look stunning in purple, Sirius.”

He blushes. He actually blushes. You grab for his wrist and push his sleeve up to peer at his watch.

“I’ll see you around, okay?”

For the first time in a long time, Sirius Black hasn’t got shit to say. No one ever makes him blush.

————

“I don’t come to class one day, and you’ve made a new friend? Why couldn’t you have made a new one any other day? I think I need some time off. Maybe even early retirement.”

Sirius smacks Remus on the shoulder where the latter lays stretched out in bed. The curtains are drawn one one side so that the only person they’re visible to is James, who is half asleep in the neighboring bed, glasses askew and tie on the brink of choking him.

“It’s rude to abuse the wounded.”

“You’re off your rocker, Lupin.”

Remus rubs his face, though he winces, his arms much too sore for any sort of activity. “Tell me about it.”

“Feeling any better today?”

“Yes, Sirius. I’m feeling fucking wonderful.”

“He’s being sarcastic.” James’ voice is muffled by the pillow he’s collapsed into.

Sirius turns to look at his friend. “Yeah, no shit, Prongs. Thank you so much for enlightening me.”

James raises a weak arm, flipping him off. “Eat me.”

“You say that as if I won’t do it.”

James sits up, but only enough so that he may rearrange himself into a poorly structured child’s pose. “Stop being such fucking tease and do it then, babe.”

Remus rubs his eyes aggressively, like it might somehow rid him of his ever permanent longing for sleep. “Shove it, you two.” He peeks out from between his fingers at Sirius. “I thought you were saying how you’ve made someone else miserable with the joys of your friendship.”

“Fuck you,” Sirius says.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I did make a new friend. In herbology, since you decided to have a go with the moon and left me to perish.” Remus rolls his eyes. “They’re very kind, if you must know. We are co-parenting a Mandrake.”

James snorts into the mattress.

“Is it really co-parenting if you’ll make them do all of the work?” Remus asks.

James snorts again and Sirius leans over to smack him against the back. He lets out a pathetic cry that both of the other boys ignore.

“I’m helping, asshole,” Sirius begins. “I’m supposed to go water the fucking thing in a bit if either of you need proof of life.”

“Of your friend or of your child?” Remus reaches his arm out to grab hold of one of the bedposts and heave himself up.

“Both.”

James slides off of his bed and starts to stretch, and a cacophony of cracking sounds follows, which is slightly concerning considering his age. “Sorry. I’m supposed to go and see Lils. But I expect a full report back, Moons.” He strips off his tie and pulls on a coat. The other two boys watch him bound across the room like they’re at a tennis match.

James is gone so quickly you’d be amazed that he was half-asleep minutes before.

“What a prick,” Sirius says from where he sits at the foot of Remus’ bed. He looks away from the door and at his friend.

Sirius sets his hand on Remus’ knee. “You get any sleep this morning?”

“Some. Not enough. Though it’s never enough, or whatever.” Sirius gets a pang in his chest. He wishes he could make it all better.

“You want to get some fresh air? You can come with me to the greenhouses if you want, but you can stay here too. I’ll sneak down to the kitchens and get you something.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go with you. Sun’s not out, is it? It’ll kill my head.”

Sirius stands and peers beneath the drawn curtains. It’s cloudy, like it might storm, a thick layer of cloud lying over the grounds. “Nope. She’s hiding from you today.”

Remus nods and his friend walks back over to his bedside. “Come on, Rem.”

He removes the blankets from over his lap and scoots to the edge of his mattress. Sirius holds out his hands for Remus to take. Sometimes he gets really woozy when he has to stand after nights like the last. His knees shake, but he’s steady once he’s up. Sirius keeps an arm around his back when there isn’t anyone in the halls to question Remus’ condition, but has to settle for watching his friends footing otherwise.

Sirius gets Remus on a bench and makes a stop by Madam Pomphrey on the way, feigning a headache. She gives him a little bottle of these chewable tablets with instructions on how often to take them and tells him to come back if the ache persists.

He hands the bottle to Remus when he’s finished, and the boy’s had the medicine for an entire four seconds before he’s chewing. It’s one of those headaches that stays dull, but any sudden movement and your entire skull is throbbing and he thinks he might just die. Remus thinks this every full moon. He is not dead.

The trip to the greenhouse takes longer than usual, mainly because of Sirius’ tendency to baby Remus during his moon hangovers. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want a death on his hands, something about living up to the Black name, but Remus knows it’s really because Sirius is much more caring than he’d ever admit.

“See? Look at this fucker. My child.” Sirius gestures dramatically at the potted plant. Remus leans up against one of the tables, only slightly amused, much more out of breath.

He’s only just gone digging for a watering can when he hears the door open and glances up, assuming it’s another student having to monitor their own dirt ball.

But it’s you.

“What’s up, love?”

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t realized when Sirius said he made a friend he actually meant friend. He’s never really seen Sirius look at someone that way.

You stand by the doors, kicking the one you came through shut behind you. Sirius pretends like he’s not attracted to the movement.

“Hi,” you say. You step a little further into the room. “I know it’s not my day to water, but frankly I was kind of worried you’d forget to do it.”

Remus turns to face you and laughs, full on. You grin at him. He’s never really looked at you before, but there’s no denying how sweet you look. He bets you could kick Sirius’ ass if you wanted. He also thinks Sirius might let you do it.

Sirius straightens and flips his hair back as he does so. “You wound me.”

You shrug. “I was also slightly panicked you’d drown the thing, so there’s that.”

Sirius walks over to the sinks, filling up his watering can, though you both know he could easily use a spell to do it instead. “So you came to supervise?”

“‘Fraid so.” You chew on the inside of your lip.

“I don’t blame you,” Remus says. “He’s kind of a flake.”

“Fuck you, Rem.”

“Yeah, sure.” Remus pushes off of the table, moving in the direction of you and the doors. His head is starting to feel better. He leans in next to you, though his voice is anything but a whisper. “I don’t know why you’re putting up with him. Would’ve asked for a different partner myself.”

“She picked me!” You laugh, seeing Sirius put his hands on his hips out of the corner of your eye.

Remus raises a brow at you. “Oh yeah?” He smiles at you. It’s a knowing expression, an understanding one. He keeps his eyes on you, but speaks to Sirius. “I’m gonna go for a walk, Pads. Come and retrieve me when you’re finished.”

The squeeze Remus gives to your shoulder is kind. It tells you you’re safe with Sirius. With him. That you’re welcome. The glass door rattles as it shuts.

“You really have no faith in me?” Sirius asks, spritzing the Mandrakes leaves. You peer into the pot, noticing he’s watered it just right. It’s not going to drown after all.

“No, I’ve got plenty. Maybe I just wanted to see you again.”

Sirius sets the bottle he’s holding down. “No shit.”

“Well you see, last time you asked me a question, and I didn’t get to ask you one of my own, and I figured I’d better do that if I want to keep the friendship alive, you know?”

Sirius is smiling at you. He can’t believe this–your teasing.

He runs the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone. “So what’s the question?”

“Do you like pie?” you question.

“I do.”

“That’s good. Because I feel the same way, and rumor has it you can get into the kitchens, so I thought we could work together on this...and get pie. It’s like a reward. I put up with you and you put up with me kind of thing, so we get something to eat.”

Sirius tosses his head back, letting out a bark of a laugh. Your eyes linger on his neck for a second longer than they should.

“Well the rumors are indeed true,” he says. “Guess we’ll have to ditch Remus, then. Make it a proper date and whatnot.”

“That seems unkind,” you chuckle.

“He’ll live.”

————

“What’s happening here?” Sirius throws himself into one of the chairs on the other side of the table where you and Remus sit.

“We’re reading,” Remus tells him. “Go away.”

Remus had shown you to this table. Said it was his favorite. There are a small group of them in the very back of the library, behind one of the last rows of shelves. You wouldn’t know they were there unless you went looking.

He said it’s where he goes to hide when James and Sirius won’t shut up and let him work, which is more often than not.

“You whined about me making new friends,” Sirius says, “so that I’d leave you alone, and now you’ve taken it upon yourself to steal said friend from me?”

You cover your face with your book, sliding deeper into your chair and trying your very best to fight off a giggle.

Sirius reaches across the table and snatches the book from your hands. He wants to see the shit-eating grin you’re hiding. He stands and moves in front of you just when you bury your face in your sleeve.

He tugs on the fabric of your shirt. “Traded me out then, have you?”

You snort into your sweater, and Sirius watched the way your shoulders shake. Remus eyes his friend’s hand, trying to make sure he didn’t lose your page with his frenzied antics. He didn’t though, pale thumb tucked into the paper.

Remus sets his own book down, stretching over the back of the chair. He’s thinking about going to bed.

Instead of looking at Sirius like you know he wants, you turn to Remus.

“Leavin’ me, Rem?”

Sirius scoffs. Rem his ass.

Remus lowers his head so that it’s level with yours. “Sleepy,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut. You look at the scar that runs through his brow and across his eyelid. There’s another by his ear. You wonder if he’ll tell you about them someday.

He bumps his forehead—the gentlest of taps—with yours, and then he’s standing. Sometimes you forget how lanky he is when he’s always so hunched over.

“Goodnight, Lupin,” you say.

“Goodnight, you two. Don’t get too wild. This is still a library.”

Sirius takes the chair Remus had been occupying. You look at him, and reach for his hand. He wouldn’t even think about denying you taking it, even if he is being a grump.

“I have not traded you out, Sirius.” He glares at you, though his eyes are still much too soft for it to be anything malicious. He’s not sure he could ever look at you in a hateful way.

“You could’ve read with me,” he argues, tickling your palm. You try and wriggle your hand away, but he only presses his fingers firmly into your skin, keeping you there.

“Come on.”

“No, you could have,” he continues. “I can be very well behaved, if need be.”

“Oh yeah?” You’re the one smirking now. Sirius is afraid he might never get this image of you out of his head.

“Yeah.” He leans in, nuzzling his nose against your temple. When he pulls away, you realize he has a smattering of freckles under one eye. You have the urge to touch them, and so you do.

He relaxes against your hand. “You’re very pretty, Sirius.”

“Thank you.” He kisses your knuckle. “You’re very pretty, too, sweets.”

“Thank you.”

In the weeks since your Mandrake project has finished—and the plant did indeed survive—Sirius has grown increasingly attached to you. Frankly he finds himself shocked that you’re willing to deal with him at all, let alone that his friends like you so much. He wasn’t even a little upset that you’re spending time with Remus. You have a lot in common, actually.

He just likes to tease you. And he’s very good at it.

“So you come looking for me because you need something? Or are you perhaps attention starved?” You question, taking your hand away from his face, though your other is still within his grasp.

“Most definitely the latter.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

He speaks close to your ear as if he’s about to spill the world’s most confidential information. “Is this a safe space?”

“Absolutely,” you assure him.

“I want you to play with my hair,” Sirius says.

You gasp, clutching at your nonexistent pearls.

Your moment's pause makes him a little nervous. “Well let’s get on with it then,” you tell him.

You take Sirius up to your common room, it being much too late for anyone to be up. You slip your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp until he’s falling asleep and you’ve made promises of braiding it sooner or later. Eventually, you have to wake him, send him off to bed.

And he pouts. God, does he pout. But it’s okay. He’ll get you to do it again tomorrow.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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gauloiseblue · 2 months

Text

TF141 + König | sensory deprived sex

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

You told your partner that you wanted to try something new, and that involves him being tied up, blindfolded, and keeping their ears covered. They'd be on the receiving end, and you'd be in control of the situation. At least, that's what the initial plan was.

Price

He, of course, would laugh at the idea first, but agreed to it later on

But he will find a way to negotiate one or two things, and that ends up with you riding on his face

He'd still have the blindfold, handcuffs, and earplugs on, but those wouldn't stop him from knowing how much he draws reactions from you

He won't hesitate to start off with a rougher pace, as he sucks, licks, and presses his tongue against your clit without missing a beat

In the end, he pulls out several orgasms from you, just by his mouth

"Luv." He said as he kissed the side of your thigh, "Sit on my lap now so I can fuck you properly, a'right?"

Gaz

He'd jokingly agree with you, but in his mind, he's actually nervous about it

The thing is, he's a vanilla guy, and while he can go for rounds, the kinkiest thing he ever done with you is choking (that is, if you can call wrapping his hand around your throat in loose grip as choking)

Still, he wants to give it a try. He can't resist a good challenge

He'd feel a little disoriented when you first put the earmuffs and blindfold on him, but he'd follow your command as he lays down on the bed

When you sink yourself down on him, he hisses at the newfound sensation. It's like his sensitivity has increased by tenfold

While it's fun to treat him to a new experience, the sex is pretty much the same, but with extra step

But if you release him from his bind and earmuffs, you're in for a wild ride <3

Ghost

It'd take several pleas and persuasions to get him on board with it

And when he's in, he's not holding back. He warned you that, but you didn't take it too seriously. After all, you'd be the one who has control over him

Everything would go smoothly as you planned if you had brought stronger cuffs

So when you tease him with a languid pace, purposely edging him several times, he decides that he had enough

You didn't even realize when he broke the chain and flipped you over with his now free hands

He doesn't let you process what just happens as he snaps his hips against yours repeatedly, making it hard for you to form any words with your lips

His pace would be brutal and unforgiving, as he drilled himself into you without a break

At the end of the session, you'd be thoroughly filled and sore. With two sets of bruises on each side of your waist

Soap

One thing that you know about him, is that he's always up for a challenge

You wanna know if he can still make you cum without seeing or hearing it from you? Why the fuck not?

Since you don't have a pair of cuffs, you settle with a long piece of cloth. And that's honestly a mistake

You know that he's athletic, and capable of knocking people down with his hands tied up, so you shouldn't be surprised when your position is flipped

One moment, you were riding him, yet the next second, you're under him, with his legs supporting yours in a mating press

"Sorry lass, ya won't cum at that speed." He'd grin, before thrusting himself into you

You'd be lying if you say he's wrong

König

Picture this; he's fucking you against the table with his hand tied behind his body, that's it folks, that's the prompt

Just like Ghost, it'd take a lot of convincing before he agrees to do it

But since he's bitchy about the arrangement, you decide to put a gag on him as well

You sat him on the chair, before you sank into his lap, cockwarming him as you do the paperwork

He's quiet for the first 5 minutes, but after that, he'd bounce you on his lap to get any friction. You dig your nails on his thigh as a warning, and he groans in displeasure

You almost reach the 30-minute mark before he suddenly growls in your ear and gets up

The sheer strength he possesses knocks you down as he presses his body against you, effectively stopping you from running away

With your body trapped between him and the table, you are completely at his mercy

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod x reader #tf 141 x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #konig x reader #no thoughts head empty #just cod men

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faeriekit · 11 days

Text

Out on a Limb

phic phight prompt is from @bibliophilea

warnings for: lighthearted body horror, limb loss, limb...uh...movin' around

*~💚💚💚~*

When Danny said he could lend a hand, he didn't quite mean like this.

“UH,” said Tucker.

“UH,” said Danny.

Both of them watched his disembodied hand flop around on the shop class floor. It was kind of like watching a dead fish die, but…worse. Since. You know. It was Danny’s hand.

“I’m telling Mr. Richards,” Tucker declared, voice high and loud—and it took two tries to cover Tucker’s mouth his hand, because Danny had automatically reached out with his right but that was on the floor, and—look! It was fine! It was fine and no one needed to know!

“Tucker you can’t tell anyone,” Danny hissed, immediately, unable to draw Tucker closer to threaten him and silence him simultaneously so Danny might have been a little more under stress than usual. “Tucker, my hand’s not bleeding. Just…just put it back on!”

“What do you mean, put it back on?!” Tucker hissed, looking like he was about to cry. Danny felt so bad but also that was his hand! “Danny, what do you mean?!”

“It’ll work!” Danny lied as quietly as he could, casting wary glances around the shop. So far no one was looking at them, even though their table saw had gone quiet. Everyone else was carefully cutting wooden planks, as oblivious as they could be in their giant orange earmuffs. And, so maybe Danny wasn’t sure if this would work! But! They had to try! “Just stick it on!”

“You want me to touch your decapitated hand?!”

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” a voice asked from behind their assigned shop station.

Tucker and Danny froze.

Mr. Richards, an old man who taught shop class and wore exclusively plaid flannel, raised a grey eyebrow.

“…No,” Danny and Tucker lied simultaneously, if perhaps a little offbeat from each other. Danny quickly hid his remarkably raw stump behind his back.

The other eyebrow rose. “In that case, shall we get back to the task at hand? Those planks won’t size themselves, you know.”

Danny and Tucker mumbled something suitably contrite. Tucker wasn’t able to tear his too-wide eyes away from the flopping, writhing, finger-curling hand on the dirty shop floor—

And Danny ‘casually’ dropped a flat shop pencil onto the floor, giving Tucker the excuse to go get the thing. Tucker ducked down without a word.

Mr. Richards crossed his arms. Clicked his tongue. “I thought you of all kids would know to be careful in a workroom, Fenton. It’ll pay to be more careful; you never know if a machine will take something off while you’re not paying attention.”

“Yessir,” Danny squeaked, and shoved down the terrified laughter clawing away at his insides. It was only hysteria.

Something cold and wet slapped itself onto Danny’s stump. Danny flinched.

“Do you have your planks ready?”

Danny swallowed. Tucker stood, looking only slightly more traumatized than he had been when the hand first decided to make its grand departure from the rest of Danny’s body. “…Uh huh.”

“Good. Load them up onto the table for me, then. Show me your guide lines.”

Danny lifted and laid the planks with a shaking hand. Mr. Richards’ expression indicated how little he thought of that.

“Both hands.”

…Danny lifted a hand onto the board.

Mr. Richards stared. Tucker chewed on his lip.

…Danny lifted a second, twitching hand onto the board—hey, his hand?? Was back on?? Thank God for Tucker Foley.

But his hand was definitely not okay; even with the machine on, Danny had to jerk his writhing hand away from the serrated blade more than once. It looked, uh, bad. His hand looked bad. Grey. Taut. Kind of like it was seizing, or, you know…dying of blood loss.

“Fenton…” His shop teacher stared. “...Go to the nurse’s office.”

Tucker grinned with all his teeth, and grabbed Danny’s good hand before Danny could say anything in one way or another. “Great! I’ll walk him. Come on, Danny—if you’re not feeling well, we should go!”

Any excuse was a good excuse. “Yeah, oops. Sorry.” Danny didn’t stop making excuses for himself just in case, even as Tucker veritably shoved him through the shop class door. “Didn’t even notice I was getting muscle spasms; I should probably go get medication for it—“

Neither of them stopped moving until the door was slammed shut behind them.

Danny stared down at his writhing, if…properly attached hand. He tried to stretch his fingers.

The only wriggled worse. It felt like trying to attack worms his hands…only. You know. His worms were the hands. Or. Uh. His hands were the worms.

…Danny needed some water and 600 mg. ibuprofen. Stat.

“I,” Tucker started. And then he stopped. “I am never trusting your intangibility ever again.”

Danny stared at his self-possessed, wriggling hand. “Yeah, probably,” he agreed faintly.

#danny phantom #phic phight 2024 #phic phight #tucker foley #danny fenton #tw body horror #tw dismemberment #'I'm not a doctor but wtf'- Tucker #faer fic

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coqxettee · 4 months

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Coquette Winter Gift Guide:

🎀 Gift ideas for yourself or your friends who love the Coquette aesthetic:

Clothes/Fashion:

1. Anything from Brandy Melville (Amara heart lace pyjamas)

2. Bailey bow uggs or normal uggs

3. Ralph Lauren sweaters

4. A ballet wrap

5. Floral pyjama sets, Cami’s & Long sleeve shirts

6. Grandma cardigans

7. A cable knit sweater

8. Legwarmers/pretty tights

9. A pair of cute gloves

10. ANY clothing from “Mymummadeit”

11. ANY clothing from “Favourite child collective”

12. Any clothing from the “Cutey” section on Romwe

13. A dress/anything from “Selkie”

14. Any slogan tee’s / baby tee’s from small businesses and independent brands

15. Victoria secret Pyjamas/Robe

16. Pink puffa coat

17. Tiffany & co earrings or necklace

18. The “Mymummadeit” puffa bag

19. Kate spade heart bag/Vivienne Westwood one or just a heart purse

20. A printed tote bag

21. Ted baker bags/cosmetic bags

22. Any dresses from - Cider, Motel rocks, Pretty little thing, Oh polly

23. A ballet skirt

24. ECOSUSI summer garden romance bags

25. A cape/fur shaul//A glam doll coat

26. Vintage nightgowns/nightwear

27. Cute earmuffs & things to decorate them with

28. Mary Janes & frilly ankle socks

Beauty:

29. Any products from “Glossier”

30. Dior (addict) makeup products (Lip oil’s, Blush, lip balm,

31. Anything from “Flowerknows” “Etude house” “Too faced” or “Charlotte Tilbury” “C beauty mall products”

32. Chanel lipstick

33. A quilted floral coquette makeup bag

34. W7 Tinted kiss lip oil

35. Miss Dior perfume

36. Chanel mamoiselle perfume

37. Any of the Ariana Grande perfumes/body sprays

38. Penhaligons “The favourite”

39. Oriana “Parfums de Marly”

40. Victoria secret body sprays

41. Paul & Joe Cinamoroll collection

Homeware:

42. The Amazon floral bedsheets

43. A heart mirror

44. Love shack fancy homeware items

45. Anything from Paris Hilton’s new cookery line

46. A ballerina/music box jewellery box

47. Pink/Vanilla Yankee candles

48. FreePrints photos to make a wall collage

49. Roccoco style picture frames

50. An angel tray dish

51. Fake flowers

52. Pretty Cushions / A large throw fluffy blanket,

53. Caroline medium jewellery case

54. Fake cake jewellery boxes

55. Tall candles and a candle holder

56. Posters of celebrity’s/artists etc

57. Any pretty art that can be displayed/put into frames

Self care:

58. Spa headbands, and wrist bands (Kylie skin headband)

59. Inn is free skincare products

60. Philosophy shower and skin products

61. Chanel eye patches

62. Mulberry silk eye mask (pink)

63. Look fantastic heartless hair curlers

64. Dior prestige skin products and body lotions

65. Baylis & Harding products

66. Angel tangle brush

67. Charlotte Tilbury skincare gift sets

68. Elasti - cream

69. Embellished claw clips

70. Sol de Janerio body cream

71. Mugs, hand warmers, face masks, lip scrubs

Miscellaneous: ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚

72. AirPod max

73. Wildflower phone cases & airpod cases

74. A pink waterbottle (Stanley or Lululemon)

75. Lana del rey vinyls

76. Coquette notebooks

77. Dior & Chanel fashion books

78. My year of rest and relaxation

79. The seven husbands of Evelyn Hugo

80. Jellycats

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

I hope this helped you think of some ideas of things you want to ask or get someone for Christmas 🎀✨🎄

Merry Pinkmas coquette doves

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

#baby pink #coquette #coquette aesthetic #lana del rey #girly pink #girly #girly aesthetic #girly girl #girly kei #girly stuff #coquette christmas #pinkmas #christmas

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mikasa-imadebiscults · 1 year

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Hashira- Are They a Top, Bottom, or Switch?

100 Followers Event: Day 9/31

(Characters Included- Shinobu, Sanemi, Rengoku, Mitsuri, and Gyomei)

(Warning: NSFW TOPICS)

Shinobu Kocho

- She’s a top, specifically a dominatrix, a full blown dominatrix. She will degrade you, only sometimes she’ll praise you but that’s only if she thinks you deserve it.

- Shinobu is really into bondage play. It’s just the way you squirm and struggling to move around while being under her, that makes her just about dripping wet.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

- Dominant. A really rough dominant. There ain’t no if, ands, or buts about it there is no way in hell that he will fall under submission. He will go at a rough pace almost immediately when he’s fucking you.

- I feel like he would love pain he’s definitely a masochist, if he’s giving you oral then he loves it when you pull harshly on his hair, that will really really get him going.

Rengoku Kyojuro

- Dominant but he will be a soft dom. When he’s fucking you instead of groaning he moans a lot while saying praises. (and he’s fucking loud too like your eardrums finna explode might need some earmuffs or something)

- He loves it when he puts his hands around your throat and choke you. He likes it when you choke on your words and the struggle you make to try to say something.

Kanroji Mitsuri

- SWITCH, she definitely gives off switch energy. If she’s dominant she pleases you however you would like. Want oral? You got it, want bondage play? She is on it.

- If Mitsuri is submissive then she would like a lot of praise. Absolutely no degrading. She likes it when you force her to make eye contact with you, it will make her feel really embarrassed but she likes it.

Gyomei Himejima

- Switch, it’s all depending on what you want to do. Obviously if he’s dominant he would be a very very gentle dom. He’ll never degrade you, he will always makes sure to praise you no matter if you’re top or bottom.

- If he’s the submissive then he likes it when you demand him on what to do. He will most likely call you “Master” only if you like it though.

Masterlist

In the Masterlist there’s a link to make requests

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newwavesylviaplath · 1 day

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playlist recs (cuz i'm an influencer)

hiii! i was just thinking about how much i love making playlists but i have legitimately two irl friends and they don't give a shit abt my music taste so i wanted to make a cutesie little (kind of??) masterlist of all my fave playlists that ive made and like their general vibes <3

(p.s i'm super picky abt the songs i put in a playlist so they're all generally short)

⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡⋆˚

for my morute girlies; very blood in snow/dirt stained babydoll dresses/stuffed animals with big sharp teeth

you should've known, you should've guessed

for my borderline yandere bitches; very love quinn from you/obsessed teenage girl/follow him around like a lost puppy

crazy stalker gf

for my zooey deschanel wannabes; very owns a typewriter/semi vegan/is a wes anderson diehard

does eyes, collared dresses, etc.

for my girlbloggers; very sylvia plath quotes on tumblr/heart aches when you think about your mother at your age/"obviously doctor, you've never been a 13 year old girl"

woman moment

for my babes with suspected narcolepsy; very 'protecting your peace'/ten step face care routine/patchouli oil in the humidifier

bed time routine

for my coquette bitches; very listens to unreleased lana on a spotify podcast/wears an excessive amount of lace/giggles instead of laughs

sweet kinda gal

for anyone who cries over spilled milk; very scared of aging/birthday playlist from a few years back/wellbutrin zoloft combo

march sadness/old woman

for the ones with kathleen hanna vocal fry; very resting bitch face/riot grrrl adjacent/too cool for you/wears bright colours ironically

it girl wannabe

for people who can't wait until october; very apple cinnamon bath and body works/tate and violet season/leg warmers over top of doc martens

iced pumpkin foam chai latte

for people who can't wait until december; very glee christmas specials/cute fluffy earmuffs/buying advent calendars when they go on sale right after the 24th

gingerbread houses

for all of newwavesylviaplath nation; very much camryncore/songs i listen to while i blog/my personal faves

teenage girl playlist

⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡｡⋆˚⋆✧⋆˚⋆｡⋆˚

that's all! because i've been a bit of a flop recently i begged a bunch of people to let me tag them thanks yall: @fear-is-truth @cult-of-lambs @thebonesofwhatyoubelieve @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @taintandviolent @nahoyasboyfriend @elaine-in-the-membrane @slutforgarlogan @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @feefymo

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esmedelacroix · 5 months

Text

Coffee Shop Love Pt.3

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, so much fluff, implied age gap, a teeny smidge of angst, suggestive

author's note: Hi lovies, third part! I'm so happy you all like this series! I really like writing it. Please let me know what you all liked its really helpful! Enjoy...

word count: 1.5k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

The next morning you got up and got ready to start baking for the morning rush. By the time you got down to the shop your two employees were already baking the muffins and cakes. You said hello and went over the menu for the day. You then started preparing lunch menu ingredients.

Just when you had finished the morning preparation and opened up. You felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. Which was weird because no one ever texted you in the morning. You took your phone out and stared at the message that awaited you.

Miguel: Hey could you make my coffee in advance? I'm running late today...

You: Of course, hurry!

Miguel: Maybe sneak a lil muffin in there...?

You: Sugar? Am I speaking to Miguel or an imposter?

Miguel: 😡

You smiled down at your phone. You had texted Miguel last night for a while before going to bed. Older people using emojis always cracks me up. You thought to yourself. You put your phone back in your pocket and made his order. While the morning rush built up to its usual catastrophic storm of angry city folk. Mr. Smith picked up his order and his rent, just when the morning rush was at peak catastrophe and the line was going out of the shop, you saw Miguel pull up to the sidewalk and step out of his car.

You put on your scarf and earmuffs, along with a puffer jacket and gloves before heading outside. If there was one bad thing about you, it's that you were practically allergic to cold weather. You rushed out to Miguel who was leaning against his car. "Hey, I came as fast as I could," you huffed out smiling at him.

"Thank you, Baby—you look warm," he teased. He noticed the way your eyes watered when gusts of wind carried snow. How the snowflakes fell on nose and eyelashes. The way your nose turned a slight shade of pink, he could already guess that if you didn't have those earmuffs on, your little ears would be pink too. Even though you were wrapped in the warmest clothes, you still looked so chilly Miguel was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around you and warm you up properly himself.

"I'm so sensitive to the cold, my hands and feet are always cold," you explained as you held his drink out to him as well as a little brown paper bag. "I packed you a lemon poppyseed muffin, something tells me you'll enjoy it," you said.

"Hmm, I let you know," he hummed looking away. He was obviously a bit embarrassed to be enjoying baked goods. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head.

"Get inside Baby, or you might freeze right where you stand," Miguel chuckled as he ushered you back into the shop.

You waved goodbye and entered the battlefield of morning brews and muffins. It was a long day but you looked forward to the clock finally striking 9 p.m. because you knew Miguel would walk in, probably get stuck in the mistletoe, and say hello.

So he had walked through the door into the empty shop and got caught in the mistletoe while accidentally knocked over the yuletide, your night was finally complete. You never would have thought that a man as intimidating as Miguel would also be so clumsy. But it wasn't his fault that he was incredibly tall and monstrously muscular.

"Miguel, can you stop trashing my shop?" you teased as you walked around the counter to fix your holiday decor. Just when you have adjusted the yuletide, his broad shoulder bumped into a bell and it fell as well.

"Great, now you're throwing stuff at me," you joked giggling at his clumsiness.

"Oh stop it," Miguel said rolling his eyes. The both of you were so lost in the moment of laughter and bliss that you didn't realize that you were standing at the entrance of the store. You both realized and looked above you to see the mistletoe, you felt the heat rise from your chest to your face all the way to your ears.

You had never been this close to Miguel so you never realized that his eyes which you thought were mahogany brown had a slight hint of ruby in them. They were both whiskey and wine while simultaneously being black coffee and velvet cake.

He smelled like sandalwood, vallina, musk, roses, and cedarwood. In short, he smelled better than sex. His scent drugged you and kept you in his trance while swimming in his eyes. You stared at each other far too long for it to be nothing. You finally broke the tension by clearing your throat. "It's too bad you don't believe in Christmas, I'm a really good kisser," you said as you began to walk back around the counter, hoping that he didn't notice how nervous you were. He walked up to the counter visibly not over what had just happened.

"Well, who said I don't believe in Christmas?" he asked.

"I said I haven't celebrated in a while," he explained correcting you.

"Are you just saying that because you want a smooch? So needy," you said shaking your head at him. You handed him his coffee, which you already started to make. Your question made him blush a bit. Cute.

"Don't worry you don't have to answer that question, but you have to tell me if you liked the muffin I made you," you asked with a shy smile.

"It was actually really good. But don't take that wrong way, I still don't like sweet things," he said.

"Yeah sure, anyway I'm going to drop the extras off at the homeless shelter down the road if you want to tag along?" you suggested

"Okay, I don't really have much to do," he replied rubbing the back of his neck.

You were partially asking so he could help load the stuff into your car. How could he blame you? He didn't have all that muscle for nothing. As you both got in the car and drove the short drive to the shelter, you sparked a bit of conversation. "So, I've never seen you around the area, did you just move here?" you asked.

"I moved recently, I actually work at Alchemax, it's not too far away," he explained. You let out an impressed hum.

"Ohh snazzy, what do you do there?" you asked as you taped the wheel rhythmically to the Frank Sinatra Christmas song playing in the background.

"I'm a geneticist," he answered.

"Yeah, I don't know what that is, but I was born and raised here," she said as Miguel laughed at her earlier comment.

"Tell me more," Miguel said under stifled laughter.

"The coffee shop is kind of a family heirloom if you will, it's been around for decades. Naturally, I followed in my parents' footsteps and went to culinary school. But my parents passed away a while ago so I couldn't finish school," she explained.

"Well, I'm sure your parents would be proud. I think you have this coffee thing down to a T," he said, making you smile like an idiot.

"Thank you, Miguel, that means a lot," you said as you pulled up to the shelter. You both got the stuff out of the trunk. You walked in and took it to the front desk where your best friend Estella was. "Hey, Baby—oh? Who's this? Boyfriend? Hookup?" she asked while sizing him up and giving you a nod of approval.

"This is Miguel and um, he's my uh—" you started trying to find the words.

"We're friends," he answered simply. Estella still looked at us suspiciously before letting the volunteers take the goods off our hands.

"Well you two have a great night, and Miguel, she may not look like it but, she likes it rough," Estella teased throwing a wink at Miguel.

"Oh my god, Estella!" you groaned as you walked out with Miguel and got back into the car. The ride was silent until he said, "Rough huh?"

"Please forget she said that," you said smiling sheepishly at the revelation.

"Oh, so you're not going to deny it?" he asked.

"Well, why deny it when it's true?" you said accepting the shame.

You had parked and looked over at his face for a reaction to this information. But nothing, you couldn't read his expression. The two of you spent the rest of the night chatting it up about everything under the sun(or moon). You have learned so much about Miguel.

You learned that he has a brother named Gabriel, his favorite color is red, he prefers chocolate over gummies(wrong opinion), and he absolutely has to keep eye contact when speaking with someone.

As you both continued to bond over Christmas cookies and brews, your moment was interrupted by a buzz from both of your phones. It was an amber alert that read:

[Blizzard Warning! This area til 9:00 PM EST Mon. All citizens must stay indoors. All roads closed]

Next... Pt.4

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@amber-content

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olinblogin · 5 months

Note

Hello! If the request are open, may I ask for a Yan Wukong x Fem Reader x Yan Macaque (romantically) where Reader tries to avoid them to have a time for herself or being with her own friends? I just imagine those two monkeys being the clingy and jealous cats they are XD

Thank you so much! ♡♡♡

Of course! Thank you so much for your request! I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

YAN!SUN WUKONG X FEM!READER X YAN!MACAQUE

TW/CW; mentions of alcohol/drinking, slight for, vomiting (because of alcohol), very minor character death

Clicking open the lock to your bedroom window, you took one last glance back at the two simians splayed in your bed; both clutching pillows you’d put in your place. You were thankful for those house canceling earmuffs you got for Macaque…

If not for them, he’d certainly have caught you trying to sneak out by now and dragged you back under the covers.

But you weren’t going to let that happen… you’d waited for too long to go out clubbing with your friends again. Carefully ducking under the window you’d opened, you shuffled out onto the sidewalk and carefully shut the window back.

You grabbed your bag off the ground and made your way down the sidewalk, heels clicking against the concrete rapidly as you made your way to the club.

Finally making your way there you squinted at the fluorescent lights that displayed the name; “The June Joint”.

You opened the door and were met with the scent of what you could only assume was a mix of BO, alcohol, and fruity vapes. You got over it soon when you saw your friends, rushing over to them and saying your hellos. It soon progressed to you all dancing drunkly on the dance floor… you couldn’t even hear the song playing; let alone if they were playing one at all.

You’d promised yourself you’d only have one drink tonight, but that one drink soon turned into two, and a few shots. Feeling a bit queasy you wobbled your way to the bar to get ahold of yourself. The were playing ‘Copacabana’ and as much as you wanted to dance right now, a migraine was starting to form at a splitting pace.

You fished your phone out of your bra, immediately sobering up in horror when you read the notifications… 13 missed calls, 57 unread messages.

“Oh, shit.” You scrambled to the entrance of the club; only to be dragged back by a clammy hand. “C’mon pretty girl, no need to rush… come dance with me and my guys and we’ll give you something worthwhile..” the man slurred. With a grimace you tried to take your arm back… but he had a real good grip.

“I’m sorry… I’d love to. But I’m taken, I need to get home too.” And at those words it almost seemed like it summoned two other men, tatted out and brooding. “He doesn’t gotta know. Besides I’m sure I can give you so much more than a shrimp-dick that you’re dati—“

CRACK…

His clammy hand fell from your arm as you stared down at the crumpled figure in horror, silence wafted over the club before screams rang out. You noticed a familiar staff end cascaded with golden clouds embroidered into it. uh oh..

Amidst the chaos you were tugged back by another hand, craning your neck to see Macaque holding you close and glowering at Wukong, who was beating the corpse of the man who dared to touch you to a bloody pull.

“That idiot… he could’ve gotten that disgusting man’s blood on you.” Macaque snarled lowly as he lay his head on top of yours, waiting for Wukong to finish beating the hell out of an already dead man.

When finished, Wukong looked back at you while slightly panting from exertion… “[Y/N]! What the hell were you doing out without us?! You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Before you could reply you felt the floor below you vanish; falling through on of Macaque’s shadow portals and back to your house. Still having alcohol in your system, that definitely didn’t work in your favor.

They were both about to scold you when they watched you scramble to the bathroom and hurl into the toilet. Wukong and Macaque looked at each other with their ears flattened, both immediately going to your side on the bathroom floor. Wukong held your hair back for you and Macaque rubbed your back while you emptied the contents of your stomach.

It felt like hours until you’d finally come to a halt, leaning back against the bathtub while Macaque whipped your mouth and readied a toothbrush. “I’m so sorry… I should’ve known you’d get sick when we went through my shadows. Can you ever forgive me, Starlight?” Macaque asked quietly as he carefully brushed your teeth for you.

Wukong soon came back with armfuls of food. Sitting down by your side he sifted through the foods. “Wukong what the hell is all this?! She needs something light! Like toast or crackers!” Macaque scolded as Wukong’s tail flicked with panic. “I-I didn’t know what to get her— you’re the one who knows stuff about nutrition and stuff!” Wukong shoveled everything back I to his arms and scurried to the kitchen once again.

Wukong scrambled back in with some crackers and water for you. Whatever they were angry about earlier they’d completely forgotten about when you’d gotten sick.

“Are you feeling any better, Sunshine?” Wukong asked as his tail curled around your leg. “Not really… the. Crackers are helping, though.” You mumbled hoarsely.

“Well at least it’s helping..” Macaque muttered, carefully scooping you up and laying you in the bed, pulling the covers over you and getting a bucket just in case. “Are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? Snacks? Drinks? Kisses?” Wukong asked frantically, sitting at the edge of the bed by your side. “No.. it’s okay. I just wanna sleep off this migraine, please.”

Wukong nodded and shuffled to snuggle into your arms, Macaque snuggling up behind you as you lay sandwiched between them both.

“Good night, [Y/N],”

#lmk macaque #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #yandere #shadowpeach #femme reader #character x reader #x character #polyamory #minor character death

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