#we don’t have a name yet but look at her!!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Shoutout to Monster Anon for another amazing idea

Yandere Short Stories:

Right Where I Want You

Yandere Private Investigator x Fem Reader

TW: Yandere themes, delusional behavior, unhealthy behavior, racism (ex mil makes a comment), savior complex, murder, stalking, etc.

Inhale. Exhale. Nicalli blew cigarette smoke from his lips while his body sunk into his plush couch in his pent house. Another failure of a day in an attempt to find dirt on his target.

The stench from his lit cigarette did little to soothe the loneliness in Necalli’s heart. No, this small vice merely burned the back of his throat and made his clothes reek of bad decisions. This small action did little to satiate the growing lust that consumed his very being.

Nicalli ran an umber hand through his long, black hair. A few strands stuck to his sweaty palms while his heart raced in his chest.

Nicalli had been plagued with alien feelings ever since he’s taken on this new case. The case that involved the Goldberg family and their son’s fiancée, (your full name).

He has been a private investigator for over a decade and he’s never had someone be so innocent. How could (your name) not have a single speck of dirt on her?! Good people didn’t exist in this world! There was no way someone so pure could be involved with the Goldberg family…

Nicalli sighed in frustration and put his cigarette out on the jaguar shaped ashtray on his coffee table. His russet eyes scanned the various documents before him in frustration.

All he had were pictures of her helping at the local soup kitchen and her indulging in her small hobbies. She was so mundane… he didn’t have anything to give his employer to ‘protect her precious son.’

Nicalli had been on this case for eight months now and he still had nothing but pictures of this absurdly beautiful woman. Henry Goldberg was lucky to have such a faithful woman… Nicalli would die for one.

Nicalli didn’t believe in love after the betrayal of his lover when he was in the military. It was that betrayal that made him become a private investigator in the first place so no one else had to find out like he did… yet this life was lonely. Nicalli was so lonely and now he was enchanted by his target. How pathetic was that?

Nicalli continued to admire to various pictures he had of (your name). She was really beautiful… how could someone smile so joyously? There was nothing in this world to be happy about… or was there?

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.

.

Nicalli recalled the memory of when he first received this job. He sat in the Goldberg mansion’s study. His large body squished into a small leather chair while the mother and son gave him fake smiles.

“We need you to investigate (your full name).” Mrs. Goldberg pushed a file towards Nicalli, the Mexican man accepted the file with a solemn look. “I feel like she’s cheating on my son… or even involved in some sort of illegal activity.”

Nicalli was shocked to open the file to see the smiling face of a beautiful young woman. This woman was involved in some sort of illegal activity? She looked like she couldn’t harm a fly!

“I will be able to sleep better at night knowing my son is in good hands.” Mrs. Goldberg she d a few crocodile tears before Henry Goldberg handed Nicalli a check that would make anyone gasp at the amount.

“I heard you’re the best in the business so please, don’t disappoint us.”

Nicalli took the money and nodded his head. He could do this… this job would be like all the others…

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.

.

Nicalli felt his breath hitch the first day he saw (your name). He’s never seen someone so pretty before… she had to be some sort of forest fairy rather than a human.

Nicalli studied her from his car, his russet eyes studied her in great interest. He has followed her around for weeks now and there was still not a speck of dirt on her…

Nicalli was in disbelief. (Your name) seemed to be a good person… but he was determined to find something on her. Anything would do.

So he continued to stalk her which brought him to present day…

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.

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“Have a good day!” (Your name) smiled at the various homeless people that inhabited the soup kitchen. She served each one with a cheery smile, even if they seemed displeased with her.

Nicalli sat in the corner at a bench. His russet eyes studied her in distaste. Didn’t she tire of this? These people didn’t appreciate her company… no one seemed to despite her constant efforts. Nicalli didn’t understand the point of her unnecessary kindness.

(Your name) was so sweet, she could make teeth rot. A woman like her didn’t belong in a place like this, it was dangerous-

Nicalli jumped when (your name) stood before him, a bowl of soup in her hands.

“Hello?” (Your name) tilted off her head to the side as she studied Nicalli in interest. “I always spot you here, but you never come up to the stand so I thought I’d come to you.”

Shit. He had grown careless since she’s so docile… now she knew his face. Should he just call the mission a done deal?

Nicalli was shocked when she gently placed the bowl in front of him with a soft smile. “Here. Enjoy some soup, okay? You always look so sad…”

Nicalli bit his tongue. No matter how badly he wanted to refuse her, he couldn’t bring himself to. If he rejected her kindness, it would be as if he kicked a puppy. And people do not kick puppies.

Nicalli was surprised that the soup was delicious but then he saw her smile even wider.

“I made the soup, so please enjoy to your heart’s content. If you need anything, I’m (your name)! I’ll see you around, mister!” She then went back to the kitchen while Nicalli sat dumbfounded.

The Hispanic man sat there for a few minutes longer before he felt a blush envelope his cheeks. His heart wildly leapt in his chest and his palms began to sweat buckets. What just happened to him?

There was no way… no way he had a crush on (your name)? Yet he couldn’t help the way his eyes shyly glanced towards her bubbly form while she served the rest of the costumers.

She was a good person… (your name) was a genuinely good person. Nicalli was sure of it. And now he needed to report his findings to the Goldbergs.

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.

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It took everything in Nicalli not to choke slam Henry Goldberg into the velvet carpet in his study. This man was a bastard… he didn’t deserve (your name).

“God, I thought you were the best of the best!” Henry sighed while his parents chuckled.

“Now son, I’m sure he’ll find something on that commoner.” Mrs. Goldberg pointed out to her son who scoffed.

“Mommy, at the rate he’s going. He’ll need to make something up!” Henry hummed, the man reached for his check book. “How much money do you need to fabricate a lie on her? I truly cannot marry a commoner, but it looks good for the citizens-“

Nicalli furrowed his brow. What on earth were they on about? “Aren’t you happy she’s a good person?”

Henry and his mother paused before the two of them erupted into laughter. “Happy she’s a good person? No one told us you were a comedian!!”

“How about you plant one of my necklaces or jewels in her home so we have the grounds to annul this engagement? I really cannot have my son end up with a woman so poor like that.” Mrs. Goldberg took off her diamond necklace and tried to hand it to Nicalli but the private investigator pushed it back toward her. “Oh come on. People like you are familiar with stealing, right?”

Nicalli’s head spun in horror and confusion. They were going to frame her to make themselves look better for the people… they were going to frame an innocent woman for a crime. The Goldbergs were horrible people… horrible villains.

“Mother, not all Mexicans are thieves.” Henry rolled his eyes before he gave Nicalli a knowing smile. “But I do need you to pin a crime of some sort on her. I can’t have her have the Goldberg family name.”

Even though Nicalli wanted to scream at the two of them, he must feel himself in. He needed to have evidence to show (your name) to save her. Nicalli wanted to save her… she didn’t deserve to have her name tarnished over corrupt people like these ones.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Nicalli gave the Goldbergs a stiff smile. Yes… he’d contact his sources to dig dirt up on the Goldbergs.

Nicalli didn’t become a private investigator to harm innocent people. Nicalli did this to protect the innocent from heart break.

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.

.

Nicalli threw his coffe table across the room after his source had called him and faxed him over pictures of Henry Goldberg with escorts. Bastard… that fucking bastard!

Henry had this perfect woman and he cheated on her with escorts?! He was involved in drug and sex slave trafficking?! This was a rabbit hole Nicalli never thought he’d find himself in… and he had to get (your name) out.

A man like that didn’t deserve her… not like he did. Nicalli would treasure a woman like her. He’s pamper her and make sure she was properly pleasured- what the hell was that?!

Nicalli shook his head to clear his thoughts. How dare he think of her in such a way… Nicalli wasn’t worthy of her.

Nicalli’s cheeks flushed in anger. Henry had to suffer. He had to pay for his crimes. The Goldbergs had to pay for their crimes.

Nicalli snatched one of the pictures up before he was able to locate Henry’s location. It would be easy to track him down… Nicalli was all too familiar with the Red Light District.

All he needed to do was figure out which vehicle was his, but that couldn’t be too hard. Henry was a classic spoiled narcissist. His car would be colorful and loud, just like him.

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.

.

The death of Henry Goldberg was on every news channel and in every article. His shiny red sports car was totaled and the bodies of two escorts were found with him. The cause of death was drunk driving and brake failure.

There was not a doubt in Nicalli’s mind that (your name) would be distraught… but he had to take care of Mrs. Goldberg first.

Nicalli adjusted his black leather gloves on his hands as he slowly approached the Goldberg’s office to discuss further business. The pistol with a silencer attached was buried deep within his coat.

This was all for (your name)‘s future… for their future together. It only made sense to him that he got the girl after saving her! Nicalli could make her happy!

Nicalli would have (your name) right where he wanted her…

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.

.

(Your name) sniffled in her bed, her body trembled in sorrow. She couldn’t believe Henry died and his mother had committed suicide… she knew Mrs. Goldberg adored her son, but she had no idea it was to such an extent…

Yet she wasn’t surprised about Henry being a deviant. It was why she avoided being physical with him. There was a small voice in the back of her head that told her he was bad news… yet was it wrong for her to want the money to live a good life? She’d never have to worry about bills again if she married him… but then he sent the private investigator her way.

God, it irritated her… but she wasn’t a horrible person. She just wanted a better life was all… was that a crime?

And she always felt unsettled under that man’s gaze. He had such sharp features and such a piercing stare. There was no way people didn’t know he was there when his presence felt like a predator’s.

The man had such a bewitching appearance. Hell, his hair was prettier than hers and his hooked nose was gorgeous… that private investigator was more attractive than her dead white fiancé.

So when she had a package full of photos of Henry with escorts, she knew it was her ‘stalker.’ It was nice to know he had a good moral compass, but these photos were too late. They weren’t anything she wasn’t aware of.

Despite her bubbly attitude, (your name) was not naive. She knew the Goldbergs weren’t good people. No old money family were.

(Your name) sighed as she rose up from her bed and wiped her eyes. There went her plan to be with a man with a trust fund…

(Your name) was surprised to see a bouquet of red roses and carnations on her doorstep. It seemed that private investigator may have a crush.

(Your name) smiled in thought. He was a private investigator for rich people, right? Then maybe he had the money to ensure she had a good life?

She turned her head and spotted the shy man on his car. That classic 1964 Chevrolet impala always stuck out like a sore thumb.

(Your name) wiped her eyes a bit before she gave him a smile. She could spot his red cheeks from her place by her door. It seemed she wouldn’t have to work too hard for this one… because she had him right where she wanted him.

#female reader #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere #Yandere short story #yandere private investigator #yandere detective #yandere obsession #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere male #stalker yandere #yandere stories #yandere stalking #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x willing reader #yandere boy #yandere concept #yandere imagines #yandere original character #original work #fem reader #yandere idea #yandere insert #older yandere #smart reader #female manipulator

[catch1ngmoths]

🫧𓇼*ੈTIME AFTER TIME✩‧₊˚🎐

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “If your lost, you can look, and you will find me..time after time. If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting…time after time” -Cyndi Lauper 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: after a one night stand with Joost you both can’t seem to get each other out of y’all’s heads. You were always on his mind since then and you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond boy with the cute accent… until your paths cross once more. This time Joost won’t walk away

Note: (all credit for the edit above goes to MCRBATS on TikTok!!) this is a part two for “only stay with you one more night” ITS FINALLY OUT GUYSSS!! I beg for more requests because yall give me the most scrumptious ideas for fics ever!! Also, this is kinda bad so please don’t jump me!!!

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, Talk of past sexual relations, mostly fluff!

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It had been months, you hadn’t seen Joost since that night that left you both achey in a good and bad way. You’d pondered on your thoughts and feelings towards the blondie and you mentally scolded yourself for thinking he’d come back for you. It obviously meant nothing to him, he probably sleeps with people left and right. You were no different to all the others in his mind.

But you were. Joost couldn’t get your name out his mind. Couldn’t get your pretty face and voice out of his mind. He kept thinking about the way you said moaned his name and how soft your hands were against his rough ones. He wanted to go back in time and make himself bite the curb for leaving your apartment that early morning.

You were so so so much different. Sure, this one night stand wasn’t his first rodeo but the way he looked at you was. The way he felt towards you was, he didn’t know why. He really didn’t. He’d only fully been around you for around 5 hours but those moments gave him a feeling he’d never felt before. He felt so much love, care, and warmth towards your personal being and just wanted to protect you from everything.

He’d ruined it though, we walked through and out your front door that morning. He felt cold as soon as he did but there was no going back now. He had in his signature white earbuds in while he looked out the window of the Uber that was taking him home, his mind still on you. And just like that, that was the last time he’d seen your beautiful face and your addicting scent.

The sound of his friend, apson calling his name pulled him out of his trance. He was setting up for his concert in a few hours, when he was preforming it was the only time he could get you off his mind…well somewhat at least. He went over and helped out apson and the rest of his crew and friends. Helping them set everything up and getting everything done for tonight.

You on the other hand were at your friend, Alexis’s house just hanging out when she interrupted you while you were talking. Her eyes were wide like she’d just remembered something and her movements were one of excitement, taking you aback. “Oh my god!! Sorry to interrupt you but I totally forgot about something, so Mia, Rayo, and Lacey are coming over later and we’re all going to a musicians concert Mia likes!!”

You stare at her with a smile and sarcasm laced in your voice, “now why the hell would you wanna interrupt my story to tell me about that?” You say with a chuckle, “beaacauseee…I want you to come with! It’ll be fun and I know the others would love to have you there too!” You furrow your eyebrows, this reminded you of that night where they all begged you to come out to that club with them where you met that boy you haven’t been able to get your mind off of.

You take a deep sigh, “Lex you know how I feel about things like that.” You reply but Alexis isn’t ready to back down just yet, “no I know but this concert will be different, it’s not as big as mainstream concerts and Mia said it’ll be fun!!” Alexis says looking at you with those puppy eyes and pouting in a sarcastic way.

You groan and just like you did that night months ago you agree. Around an hour later the rest of your friends show up a to get ready. You hang with Rayo fixing your makeup before looking over to him, “who are we even seeing anyways?” You ask him curiously, “man I don’t remember, I just remember Mia putting on his music and showing me a picture of him. Good looking guy and his music isn’t bad whatsoever…soo” Rayo replies with a smile

‘Whatever..’ you think, ‘at least this will be something to get me out the house and doing something.’ You sigh as your friends squeal and run to the car, excited to go. You laugh at their childishness and run after them. It takes around 20 minutes to arrive and the whole time your driving you feel this sensation in your chest, you can’t stop thinking about Joost…he was always on your mind don’t get me wrong but something about this was just different.

Joost was backstage, talking with his friends and trying to calm his excitement for the concert. But something about this felt oddly familiar, he’d never felt this before any concert. His mind now fully immersed and focused on you, he shakes his head as apson calls him over. Trying to shake the thought of you out his mind, as he gets up from where he was sat to walk to apson.

“Het concert begint zo, zijn jullie er klaar voor?” (The concerts gonna start soon, are you ready?) Apson says to Joost, clapping his hand on his shoulder with a smile. Joost takes a breath and smiles at apson, “Ja, ben je er klaar voor? Heb je nog ergens hulp bij nodig?” (Yeah, are you ready? Do you need help with anything else?) Joost replies, nudging apson with his shoulder, this makes apson clasp his hands together. “Ah, Ja, dat ben ik helemaal vergeten. Kom met me mee” (ah, yes, I completely forgot. Come with me..) apson says as the two men walk to set one last thing up.

You and your friends finally arrived to the concert. You all scooted to the front, people being nice enough to let y’all shuffle through. You and your friends talked before music played out making everyone around you, plus your friends scream with excitement. A guy runs out on stage, dressed in a while collared shirt with a black tie and black pants.

He has…short, messy, blond hair.. the same hair Joost had. No way, that wouldn’t be him- that was what you thought before he turned to face the crowd. Those features. Holy shit. It was him. He spoke into the microphone and you immediately knew from the sound of that pretty accent. It was Joost, the boy you couldn’t get out of your head.

Your mind races and you can’t decide if you should be excited or mortified that he’s standing right in front of you. On one hand, this is the boy you’ve wanted to be reunited with for months. On the other hand, it’s embarrassing to face him now. You secretly hope he’ll see you and you’re also hoping he won’t.

He sings his song, “offline” as he looks at the crowd before he sees it. He thinks he’s imagining things, you’ve been a constant in his head for months but there’s no way you’re here right now. No way you’re looking up at him with the same shocked expression that his face definitely has. His voice slightly shakes but he keeps on singing. He’s imagining shit, god he needs to get it together

But it wasn’t his imagination. You were there, for the rest of the concert you and Joost made continuous eye contact. And after the concert was done and Joost was backstage he was his wracking his brain for any way he could catch you. He couldn’t let you leave again, he just got given a second chance and he wasn’t about to give it up.

You were thinking the same things, you were alone in your mind the whole concert. You were thinking and planing about what to do after this, once the concert was done and everyone was leaving. You panicked, “u-um you guys can leave without me, I can get an Uber back home! I need to do something..! I’ll text you when I get home safe!” You say

You knew they wouldn’t let you so you run away before they can protest against your words. You look around, after your far enough away. You second guess yourself once your by yourself. Your heart is racing but your thoughts won. What if he didn’t wanna see you? What is he forgot about you and everything about that night.? You shake your head and realize what you’re doing, your friends probably haven’t gotten far.

Before you can run back to your friends you hear heavy footsteps, you turn around frantically. And you finally see Joost turning the corner to the hallway to where you were. He turns his head when you both lock eyes, both of you freezing. You stared at each other, breathing heavily and hearts racing.

“J-Joost..?” You stutter out, your voice weak and body stiff. He immediately breaks out of his trace at the sound of that voice that he’d missed so much. He runs towards you and embraces you, it was strange…it really was. This amount of affection for someone you hadn’t seen a few months and only spend one night together.

But it felt like you both were intertwined, sewn together in some way (Adrianne Lenker mentioned?!) He smiles, picking you up and spinning you around. “Holy shit it’s really you, fuck I’m so sorry. I regretted leaving as soon as I closed your door. I’m sorry if I made you feel used or unimportant, your not and i-“ he’s put off my a soft kiss being pressed to his lips

You grab his face as his hands pull your waist to be flush against his hips. Both of you are out of breath, pressing messy and rough kisses to each others lips. You moan softly on his lips and joost took his opportunity to slip his tounge into your mouth. Nothing but love shown in the kisses as he presses you up against the wall behind you, towering over you as you finally pull away.

“I’m not letting you go again, I hope you’re aware of that..” he says with his signature smile and you giggle before responding, “I wouldn’t have it any other way..” you say before he lowers his head, catching your lips in his once more

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “ Wanna listen to the sound of you blinking, wanna listen to your hands soothe. Listen to your heart beating, listen to the way you move” - Adrianne lenker 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

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TAGLIST: @timewillpasssoon @poppymelonz @pickle-juice-and-vodka @imsiriuslyreal

#joost x fem reader #joost x male reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost klein #justice for joost

[rafecameroninterlude]

okay this is really specific but when i saw that you’re a latina writer i had to request a oneshot with latina!reader who gets approached by rafe in a club bc he’s in love with the way she dances >.< pls end it w smut, i’ll dieee

₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐥𝐚́𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐬

pairing: rafe cameron x latina!reader

warnings: rafe is shy until he gets in the bedroom, unprotected sex, soft sex (for the most part), body worship, sorta fast paced ngl

word count: 1.9k

a/n: the way i screamed when i saw this prompt!! pls give me feedback for latina!reader, i’d love to include her in more works!

“you haven’t said a word since we got here, man.” kelce took a seat next to rafe at the bar, ordering a shot he knew he shouldn’t take. “this isn’t really my scene. none of it.” rafe couldn’t stand all the party lasers lighting up the place, let alone the overly loud music that boomed throughout the club. “you haven’t even tried to have fun, look at topper! he’s having the time of his life.” eyes moving past his friend, rafe laughed once he saw topper drunkenly dancing with a group of girls.. you being one of them. he didn’t know what he was fascinated by more; your beauty, or the way that you moved.

“who’s that?” rafe nodded in your direction, his heart skipping a beat when you glanced up at him. “why don’t you find out?” kelce downed his shot, a groan tumbling from his throat. rafe never approached women, mostly because they were already lined up and waiting for him, but with you he felt a sudden urge to get up and get you before anyone else can. just as he was leaving his seat, he watched you roll your hips against one of your girlfriends, his eyes locking with yours as you did so. “fuck.” rafe cursed under his breath, you and your bestie giggling at the flustered look on his face.

it felt like forever before he actually approached you, your friend whispering a ‘buena suerte— good luck.’ to you before sauntering off in topper’s direction. “i hope i’m not interrupting your fun or anything..” rafe didn’t think it was possible for someone to be this beautiful, yet so intimidating at the same time. he felt like he was throwing himself into the lion’s den with the way you were looking at him. “i saw you when i was talking to my friend, and i just had to come over here.” he scratched the back of his neck, the nervous action making you smile.

“you had to?” rafe swallowed thickly, nodding slowly as you got closer to him. “ven, let’s talk.” reaching for his hand, you led him back to your section where it wasn’t so loud. he couldn’t keep his eyes from watching the way your hips swayed when you walked, your perfume intoxicating him more than any bottle of liquor in this club could. “siéntate— sit down.” you patted the spot next to you, draping your legs across his lap. rafe rested his hand on your thigh as if it was second nature to do so. trailing his gaze from your glossy lips to the way your jewelry shined against your skin, he couldn’t choose what looked prettier.

“what’s your name?” you asked him, fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you batted your eyelashes up at the handsome man. “just rafe, nothing special.” he shrugged, a nervous laugh leaving his lips once you started trailing an acrylic nail down his chest. you were fully aware of the effect you had on men, but something about rafe endeared you and turned you on at the same time. “nothing special?” you gasped, “you’re the first rafe i’ve ever met, of course you’re special.” it wasn’t often that rafe received any kind of praise, but if someone told him that a woman as beautiful as yourself would be giving that to him tonight, he wouldn’t believe them.

“yeah?” he felt his chest bloom with pride when you smiled. “and your name?” rafe watched as your eyes flickered down to his lips. “y/n.” damn, even your name was perfect, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when you heard him test it out on his tongue. “y/n.. i like that.” both of you laughed to yourselves, exchanging glances as you two decided to share a drink together. rafe surprised himself when he agreed, surely he’d decline if it was anyone else but he felt like he was lucky just by merely being in your presence.

you conversed for a while, trying your best to break rafe out of his shell, in which you were slowly but surely succeeding. now he couldn’t stop smiling down at you, even going as far as cracking a few jokes that you didn’t have to fake a laugh for. “thank goodness you’re funny, i like someone who knows how to have a good time..” maybe it was because you knew you made him nervous, and that alone made you overconfident, but you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself no matter how hard you tried. rafe studied you for a moment, fingertips tracing the neckline of your top.

“i’ve never met someone like you.” you’ve heard that plenty of times, but coming from rafe it felt more genuine and not a ploy to get you in bed.. even though you wouldn’t deny him if he asked. “someone like me?” you leaned in, nearly stealing his breath away when he felt your nails running across the skin underneath his shirt. “y-yeah, you make me feel things.” the revelation made you pause. truth be told, rafe wasn’t the kind of guy you’d expect to hear that from, let alone reciprocate. “you make me feel things, too.” now it was your turn to lose your breath as he leaned in, his thumb stroking your chin.

the second his lips touched yours, you knew you were done for. he was gentle at first, leading the kiss until you felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. you soon rested a hand on the back of his neck as if you could pull him any closer than he already was. “come home with me.” rafe pulled away breathlessly, the urgency in his voice bringing him to his feet. “okay..” you nodded, his hand taking yours. “you don’t want to let your friends know?” he looked around, kelce and topper no where to be found.

“no te preocupes— don’t worry about it, they’ll find me.” you and rafe shared a look, a giddy feeling erupting in your tummy as he lead you out of the club and to his truck. “thank god i don’t live far.” you giggled as you watched him jog around to his side of the truck. the ride back to rafe’s place consisted of sloppy kisses and curses under his breath as you ran your palm across his jean-clad erection. “fuck, you’re killing me right now.” he would look down momentarily at your hand, pursing his lips together to keep any sounds from coming out of his mouth.

finally, he pulled into the driveway of tanneyhill, carrying you bridal style up the stairs as your laugh echoed throughout the empty house. once he got you inside his room, he refused to waste time, tossing you on his bed before you two practically ravaged one another. despite having rafe wrapped around your finger, you were the first one to get naked, rafe’s hands roaming your body as if you weren’t real. “holy shit.” he felt overwhelmed, not knowing what to do or where to start.

“how?” he traced the curves of your hips, trailing kisses from the valley of your breasts to your neck. “how the fuck is someone this perfect?” you shimmered under the soft lighting of his room, courtesy of the body glitter your friend doused you in earlier in the night. you cupped his face, wanting to feel his lips on yours again. you couldn’t help but tug at his shirt, hoping he’d get the hint. rafe took the garment off in one swift movement. while he was over here worshipping your body, you were at a loss for words at the sight of his.

you kept your eyes on him as his jeans and boxers were next to go, your thighs rubbing together when his cock sprang up against his stomach. “i don’t think i could let you leave after this..” he slotted himself between your legs, reaching over to his bedside table for a condom. you stopped him once you saw the foiled square between his fingers. “por favor— please, i want you like this.” rafe nearly cried in relief. tossing the condom to a random corner of his room, both of you let out a shaky breath as he lined himself up with your entrance.

he groaned, your slick cunt hugging his cock. “fuck, you’re soaked.” he took one of your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours as you left kisses across his chest. “f-feels so good..” you whimpered, his arm caging you in to keep your body flush against his. “yeah? you’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in pleasure, his pubic bone hitting your clit. moving your hips to meet his thrusts, rafe’s eyes rolled back when he felt your walls squeezing around his length.

“oh, dios!” your grip on his bicep tightened, your cries sounding like music to rafe’s ears. “what does that mean?” he looked down, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “i said ‘oh, god.’” your voice came out shaky, a particular stroke of his hips making you moan. “you gonna teach me spanish?” you nodded, pulling your hand away from his to run your fingers through his hair. “want to ride you..” you whispered, pushing at his chest so you could go on top.

rafe would’ve been perfectly fine with you being a pillow princess, but after hearing those words leave your mouth, he thought he’d die if he didn’t see you ride his cock. laying on his back, he guided you on top of his lap, where you sunk down on his length, both of you moaning in unison. “shit.” he hissed, his hands now resting on your ass. you yelped, leaning your weight on his chest as you started slamming your hips down on his. “fuck, rafe,” the man underneath you was mesmerized by everything you did.

the rise and fall of your chest with every breath, the way your tits bounced, your bottom lip being trapped between your teeth, all of it was ingrained in his brain now. rafe laid a palm flat against your stomach, using his thumb to rub your clit in fast circles. “i want you to cum around my cock, let me feel it baby.” you cried out, thighs trembling around his waist as your nails dug crescents into his skin.

this was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, your head rolling to the side while rafe did everything in his power not to fill you up with his cum. “rafe?” you looked down at him, teetering the edge of pure euphoria. “yes?” his mouth hung open, eyes glued to where your pussy took him in with ease. “want you to cum inside me.” that sentence made his eyes shoot up, cock twitching as he neared his high. “are you sure?” he groaned, wrapping both arms around your waist. you hummed, holding onto his shoulders as he fucked into you from below.

“sí— yes, i want it!” your hair fell from it’s updo, a stray curl falling in your face as both of you came. “ah, shit,” rafe panted, your soft velvety walls squeezing around him, taking him for everything he had. you cried out, hugging him to your chest as you shook in his embrace. eventually, your movements came to a stop, the two of you slowly coming down from your highs. “oh, my god.” you sighed, pressing a kiss to his lips before wrapping your arms around his neck. “are you okay?” he moved your hair out of your face, admiring your post-sex afterglow.

you hummed, giving him a shy smile as you hid in the crook of his neck. “y/n?” rafe ran a soothing hand down your back, “how do you say ‘stay the night.’ in spanish?”

#⟡ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 #outer banks #outer banks smut #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe edit #rafe fluff #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #obx #obx smut #drew starkey #rafe cameron x latina!reader

[woso-soso]

You're Going To Do Great

Summary: Jessie gets put to the ultimate test, taking care of the team baby.

Word Count: 1,407

I would love to talk to you all so please shoot a message my way letting me know what you think!

I have not proofread yet, please let me know of any major mistakes but I will go back tomorrow and fix anything then!

You cover your mouth, doing your best to muffle the giggle bubbling inside of you at the look on Jessie’s face. You stand behind the camera as you watch the robotic baby doll get tossed onto the table landing right in front of Jessie. You had been doing media for the Portland Thorns for the last four years, having been lucky to land an entry level position after graduating from UCLA. Which is where you had met Jessie, the two of you having been together now for eight years, married for three of them. 

“What is going on?” She asks cautiously.

“One of the team predictions this year was that there would be another team baby,” you say off camera. “So far we haven’t had one so the team voted to do this, and you were selected to be the honorary mom.” You can see Jessie's nerves clear as day. It was a challenge to even get her to agree to do a video. There was no way you were going to tell her this was the plan. 

“So what am I supposed to do with it?” Jessie asks, picking the doll up slowly. Turning it over towards the camera, the little Portland thorns onesie on full display. 

“Well,” you start “IT’S name is Rose, and she will be spending the day with you.” You toss a ring of cards towards Jessie hoping and praying that her somewhat fast reflexes actually kick in for once. With a small sigh of relief you watch her catch them easily, well somewhat easily, the robot baby narrowly escapes being dropped on the ground. 

“All day?” Jessie’s eyes go wide as she stares past the camera into your eyes.

“All day,” you confirm. “But you’ll have this to aid you,” you toss yet another item at Jessie, the bright blue baby sling landing in front of her in a heap. “And those cards will be your life line, each one represents something different, feeding, changing, burping etcetera. There is also a panic card but trust me you don’t want to use it.” 

“How am I supposed to train with it?” Jessie asks as she fiddles with the baby sling. 

“You’ll figure it out Jessie, by the end of the day you're going to love ROSE.” You emphasize as the freckled woman glares at you. 

“Fine,” she grumbles, “Come help me with this,” she says as the camera is shut off, the baby sling hanging limply in her hand. With a soft smile on your face you go over to help her clip the robotic baby in. “Maybe this will be good practice,” Jessie whispers her hand resting gently on your slightly swollen abdomen. You were only four months along and no one on the team was aware of the impending arrival of baby Fleming, but you were ok with that. The two of you holding your notoriously very private status like a badge of honor. 

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing, just like with everything else,” You affirm as you brush her hair aside to clip the top of the sling. 

The camera crew follows Jessie around for the rest of the day, capturing every moment they can. You personally watch from your office window that faces down onto the training pitch. You laugh to yourself as you watch her attempt to leave the baby on the side lines, but the robotic screaming starts almost instantly. Jessie rushes to try and stop the crying, tapping every card on the ring multiple times until you see her visibly relax. Her teammates chirping at her as she heads back on to the pitch. 

You know for a fact that she has set off the panic card multiple times, the app connected to your phone alarming multiple times as she franctiled tried to get the screaming to stop. You watch as practice comes to a pause. Pushing away from your desk you slowly make your way down to the pitch. 

“Y/N,” shouts Olivia, the young girl attaching herself to your hip the second you're in sight. The much younger girl having become like a younger sister over the years as you took on a caregiver role while on the road. 

“Shhhhhh,” Jessie hisses at her “It just got quiet lets please not set it… “a loud screech echoes across the stadium. “Off.” Jessie sighs heavily as she digs out the cards again, starting the process of tapping every card not even taking a second to look at which was which. 

“Jessie, shouldn’t you be looking at the cards.” Olivia quips. “I don’t know if they didn’t have these in Canada but the more you hit it with the wrong card the worse your score is.” 

“IT'S SCORED?” Jessie asks panicked, turning towards you like you’ve betrayed her. 

“I told you to not hit it willy-nilly with the cards didn’t I,” Your eyebrow raised in question. 

“But you didn’t say I would be scored,” she exclaims. 

“Well,” you start, eyeing the cameras around you, “you might want to start making up for it, you might be able to redeem yourself before the end of day.” 

“Come on Jessie I raised you to be better to kids then that,” Sincy says patting the younger woman on the back as they head in for lunch. 

“If you think you’d be so good at it you take the baby then,” Jessie grunts in frustration as she shoves the plastic baby into the older womens arms. “I just need a minute away from the screaming.” Before Sincy can object Jessie is darting off into the cafeteria. 

By the end of the afternoon your phone has gone off another five times, the notifications popping up indicating that Jessie has yet again messed up and used the panic card. You take your time making your way to the locker room, meeting up with the camera crew along the way. You knock before entering the locker room, the screaming robot baby being all you can hear as people start to pack up for the night. Jessie having shoved the baby under a pile of pennies to try and muffle some of the screams.

“I don’t think that suffocating the baby bodes well for your score,” Your voice causes Jessie to jump suddenly as she whirls around to look at you. Her hand shooting into the pile of pennies to retrieve the robot.  

“I….” Jessie stammers. 

“It’s okay, give me the doll.” Your hand stretched out to take the screaming doll from her. Quickly flipping it over and turning it off. 

“She could have just turned it off all day?” Sophia shouts from across the locker room. 

“She could have,” you start with a smirk “but it wouldn’t have ended well for her if she had.” Jessies normally red cheeks flush even brighter. “Now, who here wants to know what Jessie scored on caring for our lovely Rose here?” 

“ME!” Exclaims a good portion of the crowd gathered in the room, the cameras panning across the grinning faces before settling on a flustered Jessie. 

“Mrs Fleming here has scored an impressive,” you pause for a moment to raise the intensity “57 percent, not too good there Mrs Fleming, looks like you might have some learning to still do.” You can make out a few digs and laughs in the locker room, most of them poking fun at Jessie for being as smart as she is. You hear quite a few questioning if that's the lowest grade she's ever gotten. 

You check behind you to be sure the cameras are off before making your way over to the shorter brunette, her cheeks bright red and eyes turned downward. She doesn’t necessarily look upset, more so uncomfortable with all the attention on her. 

“Am I really going to be that bad?” She questions quietly, her eyes moving to meet yours. “Am I going to break our baby,” her voice even quieter than before, wanting to maintain this secret from everyone for as long as possible. 

“Jessie Alexandra Fleming you are going to do great, amazing even. Trust me, I wouldn’t have a baby with anyone but you.” Your hand takes hers, your thumb gently running across the back of her hand. 

“Really?” She asked.

“Really,” you say gently, leaning down to place a soft kiss to her lips, her cheeks instantly flaming even more brightly at the very very rare show of affection in public.

#woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #canwnt imagine #canwnt imagines #canwnt x reader #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagines

[personwhowrites]

Hey Mama

Task force 141 x pregnant!reader(female)

Tw: some suggestive language, mention of intercourse? Comment if I need to add more.

It was a one night stand with a good looking fella gone wrong. Too many things in your mind seem to stop as you saw the positive pregnancy test.

“That explains the late period” Your roommate Jessica pointed out. “Who’s is it?”

“It could be a false positive!” You utter out bitting your nail before looking at Jessica. “Right?”

“False positives are a low chance. If you want I can run down to the drug store and buy a couple more.” Jessica replies and look at you with some worry. “Girl.. do you even know who you slept with? Or were you too drunk to even remember?” Jessica pauses and looks you up and down. “..I have a feeling you open your legs too much.”

“Okay first off rude! I do not..” you mumble and stare at the test. “All the time..”

Jessica can’t help but shake her own head. She’s disappointed, she seen many friends ruin their lives with surprise pregnancies. Most of them just being in their early twenties. Jessica sigh and grab the test before looking back at you.

“So you gonna guess who’s the baby daddy?” Jessica asks while throwing the test in the trash. “Well?”

“It.. could be four people..” you mumble out as Jessica face palms. “What! Listen! Men in uniform are such a turn on!”

“If it was good looking men I would understand but.. I’m gonna guess they’re what? Late thirties maybe fourties’ you slept with?” Jessica blurts and looks at you with some anger. “You can’t just open your legs for any uniform man!”

You roll your eyes, annoyed by choice of words. Jessica and you walk out the bathroom, she can’t help but feel frustrated for you.

“What about collage? That lawyer degree your been working your ass for!” Jessica mentions while going to the living room. “All down the drain! Just because you couldn’t close your legs for some uniformed guy.”

“For your information those four were in the army!” You correct Jessica while following after her, yet it doesn’t help the situation as she lets out a frustrating sigh.

“Four?! Four! I still don’t get how you slept with four men and didn’t even use protect! Have you learned nothing with all the girls we been friends with!” Jessica snaps finally and points her index finger towards of all. “Do you even know their names!? Numbers! Anything?!”

“Uh.. yes! One of them.. was named Ghost, another Gaz an—” You try to explain but Jessica just puts her hand up to stop you mid sentence.

“You know what.. I don’t even wanna know.” Jessica mumbles holding the side of her head. “Christ.. I’m not the one pregnant and I’m stressing out about it.”

You look away, a bit ashamed of putting her through this. Jessica looks over at you finally, slightly calm and sighs.

“I’ll go down to the drug store down the street, I’ll get you more pregnancy test.” Jessica mumbles and presses her lips into a thin line. “Meanwhile you find out who’s the baby daddy, just.. don’t make it a bigger mess.”

Before you could even protest Jessica grabbed her coat and shoes. Leaving you alone in the shared apartment.

You just started down at the floor before doing what she said. You walk to your room, trying to at least remember who was the last guy you were with. Tension grew as you remember that night, you weren’t with just one guy but four making it now impossible to remember who was the first or last one to use you as their cum bucket.

“Fuck..” you whisper reaching for your phone. “..fuck..”

You open your phone, putting the classic passcode of your best friend birthday. The Home Screen loads up, the background being a photo of you and your pet back at home. You sigh as some notifications roll in from Snapchat and Instagram.

“..damn it..” you mumble as you go to your contacts. “..I know it was Gaz.. Ghost..” you pause reading all of your contacts. “..soap and Price..”

You exit the contacts app and go to your messages. You scroll around for their names before finally finding them. You bite your lip, unsure on what to do now, should you be contacting them? How would you even start this conversation! A lot of scenarios,  started to play in your head..then a text.

It was from Jessica, she sent two pictures of pregnancy tests. Then another text reading these shits are expensive, you better pay me back next time.

You just rolled your eyes, going back to see who of the four men you would text first. Then another message, it was from an unknown number.

Open the door mama.

You stare at the text, before hearing a sudden knock on the front door. You covered your mouth and got up quickly from your bed, slightly on edge as you heard the knocking. Another text came from the unknown number.

I know you’re there, saw your friend leave a little while ago.

You grab your phone as the knocking continues in the background. It wasn’t aggressive, just some friendly knocking before it stops for a second. You tried to walk to the front door quietly, but the floorboards gave you away and the knocking started again. Then you heard Jessica, talking to someone she didn’t sound happy. The movement of plastic bags were heard, probably two male voices maybe more?

“Yeah yeah that’s what they all say.” Jessica says opening the door, almost knocking you over. “Christ! Hey careful or at least say something..”

You glance behind her, now seeing who she was talking to. It was that guy.. well… guys. You couldn’t speak as Soap took out the pregnancy tests out the boxes and read the instructions. Ghost grabbed the tests back from Soap and put them back in the bag. Price shook his head, putting his head in his hand. While Gaz looked at you with an awkward smile.

“Hey mama..” Gaz whispered as you stood there motionless.

Mama.. maybe that name will fit good enough until.. they figure out who’s child you’re having..

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod #cod fandom #cod gaz #cod soap #cod ghost #cod price #short fanfic #task force 141 #task force x reader #late night post #cod fanfic #tbh idk #who do you think the father is ✋🏼😀

[viloxity]

Fluctuating Skies (Part 1 of 2) — Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Female Reader

Synopsis: The scenario where the Monarchs rule Earth and the Shadow Monarch finds you in the New World.

A/N: this is one of two parts (he’ll get more unhinged, don’t worry). additionally, this is cross posted on quotev under the same name (viloxity). Any and all feedback or comments are greatly appreciated!!!

You loved the sky.

The sky was beautiful, and perfect. It was never-ending; even when you stared until your eyes burned, you could never find the ending—or the beginning. You would stare, and stare, until you noticed the clouds. The way the clouds explored the skies’ vastness, steadily drifting towards their next unknown journey, gave you hope in this fickle world—a world where you were not sure if a tomorrow was guaranteed.

Each distortion that filled the skies—the skies you have started to despise—spelled an inevitable demise as humanity endured even worse losses. As you took exams at college, there were lines outside of hospitals. The day of your graduation, as you walked the confetti covered balcony, there were bodies lining graves—the A-rank dungeon break nearly flushed out a small city an hour away from you. That day, your supposed ‘celebration’ encompassed hesitant smiles and reluctant whispers that congratulated you on your success.

“At least we are still here.” You recalled a woman saying, scolding the looks on her family’s faces.

You looked at the sky, your tassel gently flowing with the motion of your head. Eventually, the monsters will take over this land. They will overwhelm humanity’s strongest fighters and wipe out the population in clusters. You could feel the anger pooling, then, at your helplessness. Average civilians were so weak, so useless. It hurt that you couldn’t even protect anyone, let alone yourself. Why, why were you born so weak—

Your emotions stilled at a cloud that slowly passed over the sun. Your heart was calm, beating slower.

Even when the world ends, the sky will remain unchanged—unchanged, vast, and still beautiful.

Then, the world ended.

You still remembered the day as if it were just yesterday, when the gates appeared—the roaring sounds oscillating across the entire country and its diameter devouring the peaceful summer sky. The action of itself was unjust—not because it triggered the apocalypse, but because it tied in a pacifist to the unyielding destruction of the entire world. There was a brief intermission between the gate openings and the flow of monsters; realization of the situation propelled Darwin’s theory of natural selection into motion. You were lucky to have broken out of your stupor, yelling out that everyone should run—maybe you saved some lives that day.

The screams were just as loud as the tremors that shook the earth once the rampage began. You could not focus on anything else but the shrieks, and the vile sounds of slicing of innocent faces you would now never get to meet in this lifetime. Once again, you were helpless to the world around you. No awakening, no power, no ability to do anything. The best you could do was silence your whimpers and hope it all stops.

Was your family okay? You thought as another scream fell silent. Where were they?

You looked at the sky for a miracle, but all you could see was that damned gate.

“Thank you.” The stranger’s trembling hands folded over the small bread bun, his eyes full of shame and gratitude.

You nodded, then smiled. “You can pick up water from the well just North of here.”

The man nodded his head, repeatedly murmuring ‘thank you’s’ with his voice growing hoarse as tears dripped down his eyes. He had not moved to start eating yet; you could feel his hesitance even after you gave him the bun. You nodded once more before making a swift exit. From a few meters away, you could distantly make out the sounds of biting and chewing.

Your heart felt content. It was warm, sometimes, but it was hard for the heat to linger long. It was hard to fan the flames in the first place; humanity had dispersed into fragments, with remnants of a sound society lost long ago. You also had not heard of a single word regarding your family, no matter how many villages you crossed or people you asked—you assumed them dead on the day of the Parade.

Yes, the day of the Parade. The day of the nightmare you wished to forget, the crossing of endless monstrosities, and the mark of the end of humanity. By some miracle, despite the constant onslaught of dragons and beasts crossing the gates, you lived. Back then, people agreed how fortunate you and others were to be able to hide—after all, if you didn’t hide, you ran. Yet, all you could feel was turmoil brewing within you.

Was it really something fortunate?

The people you loved; your family, friends, they were all gone. Your accomplishments, career, vanished the moment the gates flooded open. Back then, you were playing a game of ‘pretend’—those serene smiles and unsaid thoughts renounced the oncoming catastrophe as a tale of make-believe. You wanted to shout at the survivors that nothing was ‘fortunate’ anymore, that you all were apart of scrapped pages ripped from a fable that deemed your lives forfeit after its story reached the end. You were dirt on the ground, now; organic matter that existed as sustenance for better life forms.

Then, there was the sky. The sky you had loved and cherished deeply, was an entity that you blamed. It was the sky’s fault; something that symbolized tranquility and freedom was replaced as a symbol of the beginning of the end. Beautiful, were the bright explosions that blinded and wrecked cities. Vast, the lines of gates that it held. Limitless, the rows and rows of monsters it brought from within. No longer a constant variable in your life, it was something that reminded you of the day you lost everything.

At least, that’s what you thought back then.

There was more to life than you realized when you found the first village. You had trekked far from the city, and far from your home. You did not know where you were walking, and it looked fruitless based on the lack of your supplies. By a stroke of luck, a group came across you while you were slumped on the floor. They pitied you, offering to take you to their sanctuary—the last of humanity’s efforts to survive.

Upon arrival, you noticed the structure itself looked flimsy, with a handful of people walking through rubble and around deep holes in the ground. It also looked poorly built; houses were built from logs and leaves, with some looking as if they could fall over any moment. But, that didn’t matter—what mattered were the people. A person stood in the middle of the village; you could only make out his shouts and pointing in different directions to assume he was the leader of the village. You watched as men moved to build another house, the same poorly structured house, as others ran away to seemingly get supplies. The women occupied their time by cooking and playing with the children, and you nearly cried at how carefree the children looked.

Despite everyone’s losses, they still moved on. You all were specks of dirt in the ground, but together—as soil—you could erode even the hardest of rocks.

You stopped momentarily, turning behind a piece of wooden wall that was left from a now-destroyed-shed. You peeked around the corner, seeing the man feast on the tiny bun. Good, he was eating. You originally volunteered to assist outsiders, thus had been handing out bread buns the entire day to lone scavengers roaming the outskirts. Although you could no longer take care of your family like you used to, at least you can try to ensure the nourishment of others.

You sighed, relief sifting down your body. You shifted through your bag, feeling the weight of a singular item. You had one more piece left, meaning your work wasn’t over, but you had exhausted nearly the entire outskirts. Perhaps you should take another lap around again—

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw what looked to be a dark, blackened figure. It reminded you of the black spots you would get when you were dizzy or fatigued, so you turned your head for a better view.

There was… nothing. Everything was dark, covered by a half-broken roof and the rapid growth of moss and vines. You felt as if… something was staring at you. It was like a sharp pinch, as if there was a pair of eyes piercing like a needle into your soul. At the same time, you felt tired; enough so that if you were to close your eyes right now, you were sure the abyss would greet you in response.

Your eyes swept the shed, noticing a faintly drawn outline that was swaying within the void of darkness. You made contact with a pair of dimmed gray hues, its stare so bold and cold that a shiver quaked through your body. It was tempting to conclude that it was just some illusion, some petty trick on your mind so that the pill was easier to swallow. The longer you stared into the gray depths, the more you couldn’t look away.

What was this feeling?

It was not only that you felt your heart pump strenuously, but the surreality of your condition. You felt and heard your heart pump simultaneously with the feeling of adrenaline hitting your bloodstream. Your arms and legs tensed out of instinct, causing you to wince as your muscle fibers moved and pulled across your bones. The several cracks under the soles of your feet trembled slightly, as if matching your fear.

You wanted to look away so badly. You are too entranced now; a rabbit trapped under sharp claws as the wolf stared down its prey.

Please, please, please, look away.

No, this feeling—

You are remembering that day again. God, why even remember now?

It must be a coincidence—but it couldn’t be. It feels so much like…

Like…

Like those beasts.

Those beasts that walked where the sun did not follow.

They appeared in shaky and inky black forms. They would appear, and whatever they would do, would always result in a calamity. You heard the most screams from them, always.

“I’m paralyzed.” You thought, realization sinking in.

Is this the end?

Then, a sigh.

A deep, long, aired out sigh.

In an instant, all the pressure building within your frame vanished. The tension on your sarcomeres lessened, like a weight slowly floating off your shoulders. As the rush dissipated, you are left with trembling hands and shaky legs. Your senses came back to you, one by one.

Your head shot up, fearful eyes meeting wary ones. You see a figure, now—which looked to be a man—but it was odd. His frame was fluctuating between reality and obscurity, like he was struggling to pick the right balance of tenebrosity or to succumb entirely to the veil of night. His stare engraved holes into you; it was lucky that you hadn’t deflated into a balloon, most likely due to the restraint on his aura.

Aura… his sheer presence is powerful enough to knock you unconscious, that much you could tell.

To be truthful, you were clueless as to his actual thoughts. Initially, his presence was concealed—only emitting essence that you now thought was a warning. Maybe you pushed a button or two, seeing as he actually appeared in front of you. If anything, you were slightly grateful to know that you weren’t entirely crazy and that there was an actual person in the shed. However, you couldn’t read his expression at all; firstly because he wasn’t conveying anything, and secondly because you were too scared to try.

Neither of you moved; the shock having knocked the breath out of you and the stranger seemingly studying you.

Then,

“Go home.”

His voice was deep, so low in octave you imagined the sound waves still bouncing around your ear drums. In any other situation, it would’ve soothed you, as you envisioned singing lullabies or the humming of baritone tunes.

But, you also weren’t stupid. The man’s wording was specific—a demand. In a sense, he was a king; a ruler who offers you mercy after finding you in contempt of the sovereign because you tried stepping on his land. Unconsciously, your legs moved, recognizing that the lord gave you permission to leave—words your being waited on with bated breath to live another day.

So, you ran, not realizing that you dropped your bag of items, nor the growing smile on the stranger’s face.

That man, he never left your mind.

Somber gray eyes, and a complexion that rivaled Greek gods. His hair was as dark as the shadows devoured under his silhouette. He was more than ordinary, representative of a being that practices and deals in absolute power. There were only a handful of people who were gifted with abilities like that, back when the very first gates opened.

Right, now you remembered—they were called hunters. Hunters were classified into different rankings, all the way to S-rank and even national level hunters. To be a hunter, you were granted a certain seed of power.

If he were to be like anything else back then, could he have been a hunter? An S-class, even?

It was rare to come across ‘hunters’ anymore, the label long disbanding alongside the association that coined the term. When they appeared, it was considered a bad omen. Either they were chased by the Monarchs of the New World (for the risk they held) or isolated by the unawakened out of fear. Perhaps, the man was the last of the hunters—of the humans who could fight back at all.

Either way, you wanted to see him again. The more reflecting you did, the more you registered his seclusion; he is far, far from the remnants of civilization.

Regardless of the fear you felt, or the possibility of death, he was still human. He was someone who lost everything, just like you and everyone else.

The destination was a long and grueling walk from the current village you stayed at. Passing by outlanders, you gave out food and supplies as normal, while steadily making your way towards the shed.

Would he still be there? It was hard to say. Most remaining hunters were known to be nomads; staying in one place for longer than a day was like shooting fish in a barrel for their next enemy. You were not sure if he was a hunter in the first place, too—it was your latest profound superstition to be proven by whatever little luck you had left. As you treaded further, the familiarity of your surroundings fill you with perpetual dread. You began to second-guess your courage to embark on this trip in the first place, thoughts clouded and eventually drowned out by faint whispers inside decaying wooden walls. The moment your final step reached the broken shelter a hush filled the air, the shed girdling the edge of the forest encompassed by a heavy silence.

“Hello?” You called out to no one in particular.

You nearly surprised yourself with the surge of bravery to make out your greeting. You peeked into the shed, hands waving through vines. There was no one around the entrance, despite you hearing multiple voices.

Odd.

You weaved through a few cracks in the floorboard before being greeted by gray eyes. You jumped, obviously, because you did not expect him to be in such close proximity to you. He was a till a few feet away, but you could have never spotted him if he chose to sit closer to the wall. He was indeed discernible now, sitting under a small stream of light gifted by the sun. His shadow dragged along the box he sat atop of, sinking behind its crevices before pushing itself onto the wall and absorbing its shade. In any other universe, you would’ve described it as strange. In this case, you thought it supported how outlandish—and isolated—he must be.

“You’re back, what a surprise,” The man said, expression clearly detached. “I thought I scared you off.”

This was going to be difficult.

“Right. I was, but I thought it would be better to introduce myself since we got off on the wrong foot—“

A half truth, but you were also cautious.

“—my name is Y/N.”

He was burning holes into you again—the stare wasn’t any less discomforting than the previous time. His silence, too, was deafening. A sudden urge to scream to at least get a reaction out of him rose within you, but you quickly simmered it out.

The stranger’s eyes narrowed slightly as he let out a faint hum.

You winced. “I wanted to give you something that I couldn’t last time.”

You quickly plucked out a wrapped item, hastily tearing through the covering to reveal a bread bun. You weren’t able to catch a glimpse of his face, opting to shift the bread onto an elevated surface so he wouldn’t be incentivized to lunge at you.

“I hope that this helps you, even if it isn’t a whole lot.” You said, nervously picking your cuticles.

The silence was very, VERY heavy, and—can he please say something?

You looked up and caught the man’s wide eyed, dazed state as his eyes lingered on the bread. It reminded you of a skeptical stray cat at a crossroads when offered an open-hand. The man’s eyes met yours, then, and all you could think was how much better he looked without baring his teeth at you.

“You’re funny.” He dryly chuckled, faint smile betraying his nonchalance.

You offered a small smile, blissfully unaware of his next few words.

“I’m Jinwoo.”

And,

“See you tomorrow?”

“Are you a hunter, Jinwoo?” You asked after placing down the wrapped bread.

You wanted to use his name in some way, lest you forget it or say it wrong. It was ironic you carried over some of your social habits after the end of the world, like a puppy you once fed.

“You could say that,” Jinwoo replied simply.

“Could?” You echoed.

He must’ve noticed your frown, adding, “Not like it matters now.”

He had a point; the name lost its meaning awhile ago. Still, you were ruffled by his restrained disposition. Surely, the label still had meaning to him.

…No, that was an unfair presumption. Jinwoo knows his own memories and emotions better than everyone, especially you. Besides, it wasn’t worth arguing the semantics on the basis of mere suspicion.

Thus, you decided to let it go.

Ah, that reminded you—he never told you his last name.

“You don’t have family?”

“I did.”

You perked up. “…You lost them, too?”

Jinwoo closed his eyes, licking his lips. “Because of the Tragedy, yes, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Then, he squinted his eyes curiously. “I’m more interested in your story.”

You coughed suddenly, shocked by his gravitation towards you. Maybe it was because all you had to offer was bread and stories, or because you never took the chance to settle with your memories, but you felt compelled to talk.

And talk, you did.

Jinwoo was an excellent listener; he was levelheaded and passive, allowing you to just… talk, and talk, and talk (with a tendency to sigh or huff as remarks). You were spilling your family’s entire life story, grasping this fact in the middle of talking about your sister’s fiancé’s secret affair, but you found that you didn’t care. If you weren’t able to come to terms with your family’s passing before this, perhaps someone else can remember in your stead.

Did he care to remember every single detail, anyway? Probably not.

“Hold on—I lost track of the time. Crap, it’s getting dark.” You said, rushing to readjust your cloak. If you started the walk now, you might make it before it’s fully dark.

“It’s rather late, it wouldn’t be safe for you to leave.” Jinwoo said, rough voice clipping louder than your hurried shuffling.

“Did you like my stories that much?” You joked.

You waited a few beats of silence. “Sorry, bad joke; I wouldn’t have any place to sleep if I stayed, anyway.”

The shed violently shook at the end of your sentence, causing your heart to lurch in your chest. You latched onto the metal pole next to you, clutching tightly as you waited for the shaking to cease. Within seconds, Jinwoo was next to you, gently but firmly holding your arm; in moments, the quaking stopped.

“Must’ve been an earthquake.” Jinwoo noted, tone and expression laced with unconventional serenity.

Your quivering hadn’t stopped after the vibrations ceased. In fact, it increased exponentially because you were still trying to comprehend the glimpse of Jinwoo’s vibrant, deep purple eyes etched with absolute unadulterated fury.

You were deluded, you thought quickly as your breathing hastened. You were tired, surely.

“I should go home.”

His breathing stilled.

“Don’t forget about me tomorrow,” Jinwoo said, sounding strangely hollow as his iron grip slowly released you.

Once again, you ran away from his grasp.

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin-woo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #solo leveling x reader #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere sung jinwoo x reader #Yandere sung Jin-woo x reader #Yandere solo leveling #Yandere solo leveling x reader #yandere #yandere sung Jin woo x reader #yandere x reader #Jinwoo sung x reader #yandere jinwoo sung x reader #Yandere jinwoo sung #sung jinwoo #sung jin-woo

[burntheedges]

Maintenance Request Epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader  18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986

a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.

I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.

I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)

chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut

Epilogue

Saturday, May 10 Summer Break

It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.

You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.

“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.” 

You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.

You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.

You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants. 

He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”

You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”

“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.

You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.” 

He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”

“Seems so.”

“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”

You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him. 

“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could. 

“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”

“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.” 

You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.” 

Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips. 

You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.

He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.” 

You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”

He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.” 

You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”

“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”

Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”

Home. You smiled and did as he asked.

He was right, after all. You were home.

…

...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy

It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright

...

a/n: thank you all. 🧡

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #x reader #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Two of a Kind 7

Masterlist

NO TAGS. Don't ask.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: :)

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

Charles helps the girl stand. She's shaking like a leaf as she covers her stomach with her free arm. She tries to hide her vee behind her hand as she leans on him heavily. The feel of her trembling makes his dick twitch. 

"Should just drive her home," Ransom speaks around the stogie. 

"You're always such a prick," Charles chuckles. He knows Ransom just likes to see the girls squirm. "Come on, baby, nice hot bath for you since you did so good." 

"Since you're so fucking tight," Ransom sneers. 

She sniffles as Charles slings his arm under hers and leads her past the shameless man puffing grey smoke into the air, "I told you not to do that inside." 

"I opened a window." 

Charles issues him a dull look and a shake of the head as he continues past. She leans into him as her feet slap on the floor clumsily. If he wasn’t holding onto her, she’d collapse. He can tell. She’s weak. It’s getting him going again. 

He brings her into the bathroom as she murmurs, her head lolling forward. Fuck he is goddamn hard again. Twice already and he’s ready to blow. He’s no underperformer but he can’t remember the last time he was like this. Insatiable, as many described him in most matters. 

He flips up the toilet lid around her and sits her down. He pets her head as she slumps. 

“You should go, clear everything out or you might get an infection,” he lets his fingers drag over her shoulder, “we don’t want that, do we?” 

She nods, he thinks. She’s half-bent over her lap as she grips her head. As the soft trickle hits the toilet seat, she sinks further into shame. As drunk as she is, she’s still self-conscious. Even after he was just in her guts. 

Stop. He looks down at his bobbing dick. It’s starting to fucking hurt and his head isn’t making it any better. 

He goes to the tub and cranks on the four-pronged faucets. The house is not the nicest place he’s been in but he likes the bathroom. Deep tub, lots of counter space, big mirrors. He glances over his shoulder at the mirrors the cover the expanse of one wall above the floating counter. He could fuck her in front of them, make her watch herself. 

Later. He has to reprimand himself as he did Ransom. Don’t wanna break the girl. Not yet.  

He puts the stopper in place and stands. He goes to her and helps her up, pausing to flush the toilet behind her. He as good as carries her to the tub and lifts her over the edge. He reclines her against the back and she stares up with glassy eyes. 

He stands and watches her. She suddenly spasms as a sob erupts from her. She gulps as the tears spring forth and she blather uncontrollably. He touches her shoulder. It’s the alcohol, it makes everything feel much more intense. 

“Shh, baby, you’re alright,” he comforts. 

Her eyes drift over then fall down to his pulsing erection. He’s suddenly very self-aware as his tip presses to his stomach. He stands straight as she shields herself with a weak hand. 

“I can’t... please, no more,” she begs. 

"Shh, honey," he coos, the pet name surprising even him. She just seems so pathetic.  

He backs up and grabs a towel. He covers himself and nears the tub once more. Maybe it was a bit too much. Well, she's fucked up enough it won't be that bad in the morning.  

"Do you like tea?" He asks. She nods and wipes her face. "Alright, I'll get you some."  

He retreats and stops at the door, glancing back at her. Hm.  

"Ransom!" He hollers as he comes out into the hall, "get your ass in here."  

The other man appears at the end of the hall and struts down in a pair of silk boxers. He could roll his eyes at him. Sometimes he thinks he's working with a moron. Well, the man would be an easy mark, especially with his grandfather's legacy. Not the time, Charles. 

"Keep an eye on her so she doesn't go under." Ransom scoffs as he approaches, "fucked her silly."  

"Sure," he taps Ransom's arm with his knuckles. "The last thing we need is a dead girl."  

"Mm, nope, she's lively, huh? The way she whined..."  

Charles clears his throat as his balls ache, "yeah. Anyway, watch her, will ya?"  

Ransom clucks but steps into the doorway. He leans on the frame and narrows his eyes at the girl, his hand going to his hip. That's the biggest problem. Ransom doesn't know when to stop.  

"Just watch," Charles warns, "she's had enough."  

"Man, I think she had enough at the first knuckle," Ransom brings his fingers up to sniff, "didn't stop us before."  

"Hey, we didn't put in all this work for one night, alright? I don't got the energy and I know you don't either," Charles huffs, "you wanna keep buying bimbos drinks down at Lights? No. We get her on lock and it's easy. Stress relief."  

Ransom snickers and peers at the girl again, "she is fucking... tight."  

"Hm, yeah," he agrees. "I'll be back."  

Charles goes to the kitchen and sighs. Goddamn he is hard. He can hardly remember what he was doing. 

Tea. Right. Yeah. It'll calm her down. If they even have any.  

👄 

You shiver as the cool air tingles over your shoulders. The hot water contrasts the chill as you languish in the deep tub. You stare at the ceiling, vaguely aware of voices, filled with dread at what they'll do next.  

A shadow moves into the room and you look over warily. It's Ransom. He leans on the counter as he watches you. You stare back, waiting for it, bracing for more pain. He doesn't move.  

"Consider yourself lucky, babe," he chuckles, "not a lot of girls pop their cherry on something that big." You tremble and turn forward, embarrassed. "I know it's huge, the way you were squirming, but you're also..." he makes a sucking noise, "tight as shit."  

"Why... why are you doing this?" You sniffle.  

"Babe, babe, why did I choose you? Why did I spend my money, my time on a girl no one gives a second look to? Huh. You should be thanking me," he sneers, "and what do you got now? All the sweet little act means nothing if you're not a virgin. You're just another slut now."  

"No," you shake your head and sit up, hiding your face. "I'm not--"  

"You are. You just took two men at once. Who the fuck does that but a slut like you? But babe, we don't gotta throw you out. Not if you keep being a good little slut for us. I mean," he nears the side of the tub, "no one else is gonna want a used hole." 

 You whimper and hang your head, folding your arms over it as you bend your knees under your elbow. He's right. You're used and dirty. You hear another set of footsteps and another shadow darkens the edge of your vision. Ransom backs up and snorts.  

"What's going on?" Charles asks.  

"Nothing, we were just talking," Ransom says, "she was just saying how much fun she had."  

Charles clucks as you frown and lift your head. The brunette shoulders around the blond and comes to you with a mug. Steam coils from the brim.  

"How about we get you out and you can wait for it to cool in bed? All comfy?" 

"Jesus, Charlie, she's not a fucking baby."  

"Shut up," Charles snaps back, "she did a real good job and she earned it," he sets the mug down on the short stool near the tub, "isn't that right, baby? So good. So you wanna get out and have your tea and get some rest, right? You take care of us, we take care of you."  

Your lip quivers as you stare at him. You're dizzy and dazed and dumb. You don't understand why this is happening. You're a nice person. You nod. Thinking is only making your head hurt worse. Charles helps you out of the the tub and grabs another towel to wrap you in. He brings it around your shoulders and squeezes before he turns to drape his arm around you.  

"Come on, you wanna sleep in my room?" He coos.  

You just sniff and wipe your raw cheek again. He takes you down the hall and opens a door, taking you inside. He flips on the lights and sits you on the edge of the king bad within. You stay there as he shifts around the room. He returns and replaces the towel with a shirt. You thank him. Why did you do that? Thank you? After everything.  

He guides you to lay against the pillows. The bed smells like him, a hint of citrus and sweat. Your eyes are glued to the ceiling as he leaves you. Your trance breaks only as a cup clinks down loudly.  

You blink as a weight dips beside you. You wince as Charles pulls the blanket out from under you then over you. You shake and puts his hand on your arm. It makes you still, somewhat soothing yet startling all the same. 

“Drink your tea, honey,” he caresses your arm as he nestles closer.  

#charles blackwood #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark charles blackwood #dark!charles blackwood #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #charles blackwood x reader #knives out #we have always lived in the castle #drabble #series #two of a kind #au #multifandom

[panqueen]

Worries

Aaron Hotchner x FEM BAU Reader

Warning: Mentions of death, accidents, panicked Hotch.

Use of Y/n: Your name and L/n: Last name.

—————————————————————

Aaron Hotchner stands on a sidewalk across from a crime scene with his phone up to his ear mumbling to himself worriedly. Garcia sees his panic and walks over with a smile.

“You okay Boss?” she asks concerned.

“She’s not picking up” he grumbles panic setting in when he only gets Y/n’s answering machine.

“Who?” she asks confused.

“L/n she’s not picking up, dammit!” he sighs putting his phone in his pocket starting to pace.

“It’s alright Hotch I’ll try to reach her” she assures him with a smile and rushes to her computer to see what she can do.

Hotch continues to pace bringing his hands over his chin scratching at the stubble his usual nervous tick. The team stand further away watching him with confusion.

Hundreds of thoughts are rushing through Hotch’s mind. You could be hurt, the unsub could have got to you, you could be stuck in traffic for all he knows but it doesn’t matter because only panic fills his mind.

He looks over towards the entrance when he sees you walk through with an apoplectic smile. He immediately rushes over looking you over for any indication that you’re hurt.

“Where were you?” his voice strict.

“Sorry I’m late my car wouldn’t start so I had to take the metro” she apologizes.

“Something could have happened, I thought-we all thought something happened” he raises his voice slightly.

“I’m sorry it won’t happen again” she nods looking down embarrassed at the eyes watching them.

———

Later that day after the case was solved Y/n sits at her desk finishing her paperwork and more since Hotch gave her extra for what happened earlier, she says her goodbyes to the team as they leave.

It’s only Hotch and Y/n left in the building finishing up the paperwork. Once she’s done she takes it to his office knocking lightly not wanting to disturb him.

“I finished the paperwork, I’ll just leave it here” she places it on his desk turning around to leave.

As she’s about to walk out she throws caution to the wind and turns back around to him with an annoyed expression.

“How come when Spencer is late because he takes the metro you don’t care, and just brush it off but when I’m a few minutes late because my car didn’t start you give me extra paperwork and yell at me?” she asks growing frustrated.

He looks up with a frustrated frown and sighs leaning back in his chair rubbing his chin looking at her.

“Well-why?” she asks impatiently.

“I called you multiple times and you didn’t pick up so unless your phone is broken or dead there’s no excuse” his tone sharpens.

“Whatever- good night Hotch” she turns to leave.

“I was worried” he stops her in her place with three quiet words.

“I’m fine” she assures.

“But you could have been hurt or worse, Y/n with the work we do it’s crucial I know you’re safe” he stands up walking towards her.

“You don’t react like this with the others” she looks at him confused.

“The others are not you” he stands in front of her holding her elbows pulling her slowly towards him.

“Why am I different?” she quietly asks feeling her chest tighten in anticipation.

“Because you’re you- the only person who makes me feel as panicked and anxious as I do when I think of something happening to you” his tone softens as he looks down at her.

He leans down close to her face. She feels his breath on her cheek and leans closer into his touch.

“You are the most infuriating woman I’ve ever known, yet I can’t seem to stay away from you” he whispers against her lips.

She looks up into his eyes and presses their lips together. He groans into her mouth as she deepens the kiss not wanting to let him go.

It’s safe to say after that kiss Aaron Hotchner worried everyday for you and has made sure to always have contact whenever need be.

———

#fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #yn #oneshot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part five

authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!

so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.

also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.

i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 5.7k

tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”

You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.

Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”

“Because you’re so busy?”

“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”

He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”

You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.

Can I call Joe?

A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.

What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 

It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 

Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 

“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.

“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”

His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”

He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 

Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”

“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”

There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.

Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?

“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 

“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”

This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”

“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”

And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 

“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”

Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.

True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”

He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 

You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.

You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 

“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”

Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.

And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 

“Can I call Joe when I get home?”

Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”

In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?

Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 

The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 

Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.

You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 

And just age in general. 

But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 

“Look mommy, more boxes!”

The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.

She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.

You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 

Gifts.

From Joe. 

In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 

She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 

When the hell did she grab those?

“Can I open them, please? Please?”

A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.

“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”

You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 

Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.

He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.

Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 

Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 

Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 

Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 

You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 

“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  

“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?

It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”

Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”

You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 

Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 

Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 

You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.

You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 

You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 

Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.

Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.

You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.

You: Omg

You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?

It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 

 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 

Joe: She has a whole playroom.

You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 

Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️

You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.

She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.

And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.

You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.

You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 

You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 

His reply comes almost immediately this time around.

Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.

And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 

Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 

A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.

You open it right away. 

Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 

You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 

You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 

Who cares that you will be too.

________

Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 

Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?

Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.

It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 

She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.

Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 

“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”

“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”

“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”

Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.

“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 

“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”

“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 

He hates a man he’s never even met.

“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”

“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 

He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.

Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 

“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.

Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”

“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”

The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 

“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”

At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 

“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 

Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”

She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”

He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.

“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”

Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 

Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 

And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 

________

Joe: You should know she called me last night.

You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.

You: I’m aware….

Joe: No. After that. 

Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  

You: What? when?

Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.

You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?

You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 

Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.

You: A bad dream?

Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.

Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.

Joe: Who is Amir?

You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 

You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.

You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 

You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 

It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 

That you’re not with Amir.

Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?

The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.

Sorta.

You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 

You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.

Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?

Joe: You bring him around her?

You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 

Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.

But fuck it.

You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 

There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.

To some extent.

But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.

Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 

Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 

Is he entirely wrong?

Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 

You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 

You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.

Joe: It is. Thank you.

Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?

You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.

Joe: Seriously? 

Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 

You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.

It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 

You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.

He doesn’t reply. 

________

Joe doesn’t really get mad. 

Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 

It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 

Except for when it comes to you.

You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.

He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.

Hence your crudity. 

Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 

But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.

“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”

At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 

Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 

“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 

“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 

Usually. 

So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.

“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”

That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”

“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”

Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”

At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.

“Thanks.”

Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 

It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 

But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 

The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.

And find out where you stand as well. 

Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #roman reigns fic #aris notebook #black writers

[narrynukezankielover]

I find the beginning of I’m No Angel cute and funny. Dean is worried sick about Cas especially once he finds out that the angels are working together and killing people. He says if they get to him before we do and all Sam does is sit there trying hard not to tell Dean to calm his ass down. It’s an example of Sam knowing which I really like. Then when they are looking for Cas and Dean describes him as dark hair and blue eyes. It’s a simple description yet I still love it. He’s spent enough time eye f*cking Cas he should know the colour of his eyes.

The poor boy looked like he was about 2 seconds away from losing it from seeing Cas dead and i’m pretty sure in the script it doesn’t say Cas dies then Dean places his hands on both sides of Cas face lovingly anf gently.

I absolutely love this part. First of all as Ezekiel (I know it’s Gadriel but at this point they don’t) is fixing Cas Dean is mouthing come on. Sam faints after Ezekiel fixes Cas and Dean is about to go over to check on Sam and as soon as he hears Cas say his name his head whipped around soooo fast. Then Dean takes another opportunity to put his hands on Cas leg and chest. Think this is Jensens choice again and I’m very happy with his choices.

This actually made me bust out laughing. Cas told Dean and Sam that he had sex with April (think that was her name). Dean looks proud and Sam looks disgusted. I think Sam is trying to figure out why Cas would tell them that not realizing that Cas told Dean back a few seasons ago that he was a virgin so he knew Dean at least would be happy for him. Personally I don’t think Cas really liked misses even before she started torturing him I think it was just a human thing he wanted to experience.

This broke my heart. I feel bad for Dean. He’s in such a hard place. He either has to tell Cas to leave and have him defend for himself as a human which he’s not used to doing and running away from angels that want to kill him or he lets Cas stay and Sam dies. The worst thing is he was extremely happy to finally have Cas in the bunker where he could protect him and take care of him and then gets his heart broken when told he has to tell Cas to leave. I’m guessing the writers tried to explain it with Dean defending Cas and saying that he’s the one that the angels are after, he only let Ezekiel possess Sam because Cas said he was a good angel and that he has the tattoo. Ezekiel saying that misses found Cas even with the tattoo but they never explained how misses found Cas. Dean is extremely confused because he knows the tattoo keeps the angels from finding people so Cas should be protected. I feel bad for Cas because now he has to be by himself again but I also feel bad for Dean because he had to be the one to tell Cas to leave.

If Cas could see the love and sadness in Dean eyes here he would forgive him right away (Heaven Cant’t Wait). I know Dean doesn’t want Sam around or talking to Cas because he knows if he does Sam will say something about Cas deciding to leave and Cas would tell Sam that Dean told him to leave and Sam would know something was wrong since Dean wanted Cas in the bunker but it’s a nice excuse for Cas and Dean to be alone. Sam questioned Dean if there’s no case and you’re not going to see Cas then what’s the point? At least Sam knows how much Dean wants to see Cas. Cas obviously wanted to see Dean too since he called him about the case not Sam. Well 99% of the time he does call Dean but right now he’s feeling rejected by Dean and yet he still calls him and probably knows Dean will drop everything to go there.

Dean says I can’t let you do this and I didn’t see the way Cas looked at him at first but then I realized Cas was hoping he would say don’t go on this date stay here with me.

Dean tells Cas to unbutton some of the buttons on his shirt and Dean is obviously enjoying the sight. He has a huge smile on his face and checking Cas out then when he realizes Cas is looking at him he goes back to making sure Cas looks good.

Earlier in the ep Dean was being as asshole telling Cas he was too good to be working in a little store not realizing Cas has to get money now for food, supplies and whatever else he needs or wants. I think Dean still looks at Cas and sees the strong (as in mentally) angel that he’s used to. He’s used to Cas being more then happy to help them with cases and now that Cas wants to be good at his job Dean didn’t understand it until this point. He now realizes Cas is still mentally strong and if he got to be human he’s going to do it the best he can. He even tells Cas he’s proud of him and Cas looks happy to hear it. I think hearing that Dean is proud of him made him feel better about Dean telling him to leave the bunker. In an earlier ep (the dead people turning to zombies one) Dean couldn’t understand why Bobbys wife wasn’t telling Bobby the truth. She said to Dean you’ve never been in love have you. She wanted to keep Bobby happy and protected (I can’t remember her exact words). Here Dean didn’t tell Cas that the spell was irreversible because he thought Cas was happy as a human and didn’t know what he would do if he knew he was never going to be an angel again. I guess Dean is in love now. Lastly when Cas got out of the car you can see how hard it was for both of them to say goodbye. Dean actually had to let out a deep breath before he could look at Cas again and Cas looked sad as he walked to the store.

#castiel #cockles #dean x castiel #destiel #deancas

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Mine

Chapter 14

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: You and Thorin disagree over your recent choices, and it seems this argument can only be settled one way...

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, Pin V sex, fingering

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your patience. I know this took a lot longer to post than I thought. The smuttier chapters always take me longer to write because I know those are the ones we all read the most😂 I promise it will be worth the wait and there will be plenty more to follow!♥

Word count: 3913

You shout his name in protest, kicking and struggling in his grasp. But his seething rage seems to have only made him stronger. He doesn’t even flinch when you beat your fists against the broad muscles of his back. And every effort you make to kick him in the face is easily dodged as he carries you up the stairs.

Bertram is following right behind him.

“Put my dancer down this instant!” he demands, struggling to keep up with Thorin’s angry strides.

“This is why I told you not to let him find out!” you shout from over his shoulder.

"You put her up to this?!” a yelp escapes you as Thorin whirls around at the top of the stairs, still dangling you over his shoulder. You can feel the growl reverberating against where your thighs are pinned to his chest.

“It was her idea,” you hear Bertram scoff. “Did you really think accommodating so many of you at once would come cheap? I was prepared to throw you out on your asses until she offered an encore performance to sweeten the deal.”

“Encore?!” Thorin’s grip tightens around your legs and you’re suddenly very grateful that you can’t see his face right now.

“An encore that has yet to be completed thanks to you. So either she goes back out there and puts on one heck of a performance or you and the rest of your companions will need to find accommodations elsewhere tonight.”

“From what I saw, she’s already given you more than enough of a ‘performance’ for one night. You and I can come to another arrangement in the morning but she will not be stepping foot on that stage again as long as I live.”

“That might not be as long as you think if you don’t put me down this instant, Thorin!”

He ignores your protests as he continues down the hallway, kicking open the door and depositing you back on your feet in the middle of the room.

You immediately rip his cloak off of you, balling it up and tossing it back at him. But it just falls to the floor in a pile as he turns his back to you. Opening your pack he starts to pull out various articles of clothing, tossing them over his shoulder to you.

“Get dressed,” he grunts. Shirts, pants, chemises, and skirts sail through the air but you merely bat them all away in defiance. It’s almost like he expected you to refuse when he looks over his shoulder at you. When he runs out of your clothes to toss at you, he simply starts to toss some of his own instead.

“Lack of clothing isn’t the problem here,” you remind him.

“Then what is?” he snaps, kicking discarded piles of clothing out of the way as he stalks closer to you. “Temporary insanity? Lack of attention?”

“Yes, Thorin,” you scoff, taking a step closer to him until the two of you are practically chest to chest. “I was so desperate for your attention that I decided to take my clothes off in front of a crowd of strangers.”

“You’d dance half naked for strangers but Mahal forbid people find out we have any kind of intimate relationship.”

“Are you still upset about that?!” you roll your eyes. “Not everything I do is about you, Thorin. It’s like Bertram said: he wanted to charge us far more gold than even Smaug has right now. We have a history, so I offered to do him a favor in exchange for lodging.”

“A history?” he scoffs.

“Yes, a history,” you snap. “I told you I used to be a tavern dancer to pay my way across middle earth. This tavern happened to be a frequent stop for me. Now quit deflecting!”

“I’m not the one deflecting, lass.”

“Then what do you call it when someone is pretending to be upset about information they already knew, in order to avoid talking about the real reason they’re angry?”

“What, pray tell, is the real reason I’m upset with you?”

You take a step closer to him, tipping your head back until the two of you are practically nose to nose. “I fixed things and it kills you. You can’t stand the fact that I was able to solve a problem for you. Mahal forbid the great Thorin Oakenshield show any signs of weakness, let alone allow a woman to solve a problem for him.”

“Now who’s deflecting?” he smirks and you let out an angry huff, crossing your arms over your scantily clad chest.

Thorin’s gaze dips down to where your breasts are pressed together above the shelf of your arms. He takes in the sight of your provocative attire for the first time in this new setting. Very little is left to the imagination in your current state. You have to resist the urge to shudder at the chill his gaze sends down your spine as he studies every inch of your exposed skin. His jaw clenches and you know he’s remembering just how many people were recently looking at the exact same ensemble.

He brings a hand to your chin, tipping your head back so you have no choice but to look directly at his scowling face. “No one gets to see you like this ever again, understood?” he growls and the corners of your mouth quirk up.

“Let me guess, except for you? That’s quite selfish of you Thorin.”

“I don’t care,” his grip tightens on your jaw, pulling you closer to him until your lips are just a breath away from each other. “You’re mine.” He devours you hungrily, pulling your bodies closer together. Your hands slide up his chest, clawing at the fabric separating the two of you.

“Mine,” he repeats with a low growl, abruptly releasing his grip on your face and taking a step back. Before you can protest, he is tossing you over his shoulder yet again. You let out a gasp as he tightens his grip around your bare thighs.

Trudging through the piles of discarded clothes on the floor, Thorin crosses the room to toss you down on the bed. You go to push yourself up onto your forearms but he is already climbing up your body to tower over you. Your lungs are heavy with the intoxicating scent of him as he pulls your mouth back to his. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him even closer to you, wanting his entire body weight to crash down on you until there isn’t any air left inside of you.

You shudder in delight when he breaks from your lips to kiss a path along your neck to nip at the shell of your ear. “Mine,” he says again, rising above you to fully admire your form trapped beneath him.

“Mine to touch,” his hands brush along your collarbone, traveling farther down your chest to trace the swell of your breasts. He bunches up the strip of fabric covering your top, lifting it to expose you fully. You think he’s just going to untie it, but instead, he tears the thin strip of fabric in two.

“Mine to admire,” he continues, ignoring the way your jaw has dropped at the loss of your only performance attire. Thorin doesn’t seem like he’s planning on letting you go anywhere in an outfit of that kind ever again, so perhaps it was part of his plan all along.

You narrow your eyes up at him in defiance, but he only smirks down at you. Watching the anger leave your eyes the moment his warm hands cup your breasts. Your jaw drops open again, but this time to release a moan as he squeezes and massages the flesh between his fingers.

“Mine to enjoy,” he declares keeping his eyes locked on yours as he lowers his face down to one of your breasts. Continuing to massage the other he gently sucks and bites at your now sensitive buds.

They’ve begun to darken and perk up ever since they were given his attention and he wastes no time worshiping the two mounds of flesh before him.

Wrapping your legs around his midsection you pull him closer to you, arching your back off the bed as you start to grind your core up against the hardness you feel trying to escape from his trousers.

Thorin gently scrapes his teeth against the tender flesh in his mouth and you groan at the sensation. Impatiently, you begin to tug at the edge of his shirt, desperate to have access to just as much of his skin as he does of yours.

Relenting to your unspoken wishes, he sits back upright above you slipping the material overhead. Your fingers connect with the warm skin exposed to you, tracing the muscles and ridges with your fingertips. You start to chart a path farther down his abdomen towards where you’re aching for him. You stop when your fingers brush against the rough material of the bandage you wrapped around his midsection. You were so caught up in your desire you completely forgot that he’s still seriously injured. Your hands go still, hesitantly hovering over the wound.

Maybe this isn’t the time. Despite how badly you want Thorin to fuck you into the mattress right now, you can’t risk doing any further damage. Especially with the rest of the journey still ahead of you. You’re so lost in thought you don’t notice Thorin’s hooked a finger under your jaw until he’s tipping your head up to look at him. “I’m fine,” he assures you but you still scrunch your nose up in thought.

“We should wait until you’re feeling better, as your physician I-”

He lets out a laugh, bringing his face down closer to yours. “You’re not a physician, lass,”

“I didn’t say I was a physician, I said I was your physician. I tended to the wound, I think that makes me responsible for its-”

He cuts you off again, this time with a gentle brush of his lips against yours. “You’re a truly maddening woman,” he whispers into your mouth, “and I won’t feel better until I’ve sufficiently had my way with you.”

“I suppose that could be considered an alternative form of treatment,” you mumble, all concerns disappearing from your mind as he brings your mouth back to his.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, gripping the strands to pull him closer to you until all of your senses are overwhelmed with him. The way he smells, the way he tastes, the way the warmth radiating off of his skin makes all the blood rush to your cheeks.

The rough pads of his fingertips trace delicate lines down your stomach, disappearing underneath the remaining piece of clothing covering your aching core. His fingers circle your clit with a touch so featherlight it elicits a needy whine from your lips.

“Please,” you whisper hoarsely against his lips. You’ve both been denied this pleasure so many times today alone. If your poor dripping cunt doesn’t receive some attention soon, you fear you might melt into a puddle beneath him.

Your fingers give a firm yank to his locks again, and with a warning growl, he plunges two fingers deep inside you. Your back arches off the bed, pressing your bare breasts against his chest as your mouth opens with a silent scream. Your eyes see nothing but stars and yet you can sense that self righteous smirk on Thorin’s face as he starts pumping his fingers inside you with a steady pace, stroking your inner walls in that one thrilling spot that makes your toes curl as you writhe and whimper beneath him.

“I know you don’t like to listen, darling,” he whispers above you, “but here is one order I know you will follow,” blinking, your eyes start to focus again on Thorin’s face looking down at you with a wicked smile. His eyes are filled with a darkness that makes your core clench around his fingers as he quickens his pace, bringing his thumb to trace circles on your swollen bud.

“Come for me,” he commands. And you do, without a second thought. Yanking a hand free you clamp your palm over your mouth to cover the cry of pleasure that escapes you. He doesn’t let up on his ministrations, even when your other hand tightens at his scalp so fiercely it’s a miracle you haven’t yanked a fist full of hair out yet.

With a heavy sigh, your body finally goes limp beneath him.

Chuckling, Thorin gently removes his hand from your spent cunt, bringing his soaked fingers to his lips hungrily. Your jaw drops at the sight, never breaking eye contact as he cleans every drop of your juices from his skin.

It looks so appetizing when he does it, you can’t help but stick your tongue out, batting your eyelashes up at him in the hopes that he’ll share. With a knowing smile, he is slipping his soaked fingers into your mouth for you to suck on. His eyes go wide in excitement, not only from the seal your lips have created around his fingers but also because your own fingers have slipped into his trousers. You wrap them firmly around his hardened cock, stroking as much of it as you can reach.

With his fingers in your mouth and his cock in your hand you look up at him with a pleading look in your eyes.

“So needy,” he chides with a click of his tongue. “You want more already?” you nod enthusiastically from around his fingers.

He brings his lips to your temple with a gentle kiss. “How could I deny such a beautiful creature?” reluctantly pulling his soaked fingers from your mouth, he reaches for his ever tightening trousers to finally free his member for your use.

Bringing your fingers down to your soaked bottoms, you slip them down your legs as far as you can. Kicking his trousers free, Thorin pulls the soaked fabric the rest of the way down your ankles discarding them somewhere in the mess behind you.

“Spread your legs for me, lass,” he commands, towering over you as he strokes his throbbing member in his hand. Blinking in shock, you open your legs wide for him, less from the command more from the sight of the cock before you.

You were far from a virgin at this point in your life. You’d met many different people throughout your travels and as a result you’ve had multiple lovers over the years. But try as you might to rack your brain you can’t think of a single cock you’ve seen that’s nearly as magnificent as Thorin’s.

It’s long and girthy, just looking at the strong member makes your cunt clench in anticipation.

“Fuck me Thorin,” you look up at him pleading, suddenly desperate to have it inside you, “please.”

“Mahal,” Thorin scoffs, “I don’t recall ever hearing you ask for something so nicely.”

Bringing a hand to your exposed thigh he starts to brush the tip of his cock against your weeping entrance, gathering all the wetness he can as he lets out a chuckle at the desperate whines escaping you in anticipation.

Finally lining himself up with your entrance, he brings his free hand to the mattress beside your face, caging you beneath him. He looks down at your face one final time, searching for any sign that you aren’t as desperate for this as he is.

“Fuck me,” you ask again, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And don’t be gentle.” You whisper into his ear.

That’s all the encouragement he needs, with a grunt he slams into you so quickly it knocks the breath out of your lungs. You nails scrape against his back as they scramble to find purchase while Thorin begins pounding his hips into you at a breakneck speed.

Honoring your request, he is not the least bit gentle with you. Your cries of pleasure are quickly drowned out by the sounds of slapping skin as he relentlessly thrusts into you so hard the bed begins to tremble beneath the two of you.

Let it break. You think to yourself. Nothing could pull either of you out of this cloud of lust that envelopes you. If it shatters beneath you, you’re certain Thorin will just continue pounding into you on top of the rubble.

“So tight,” he growls, “so warm. Feels just like heaven, I knew it would.”

You bite your bottom lip at the thought of Thorin fantasizing about this very moment. You can so clearly see him with his cock in his hand, imagining it was your cunt clenching around him just as it is now.

Untangling your arms from around his neck, Thorin reaches for your wrists, pinning them to the pillow above your head. “Don’t move them,” he commands with a sharp snap of his hips that makes you yelp.

Continuing a steady pace, he reaches for your legs behind him. Pressing one of your knees into your chest, he tosses the other over his shoulder. Gently kissing the exposed flesh of your calf he resumes his pace in this new position.

Throwing your head back you release a guttural moan, clenching your hands into fists above your head. With each thrust, Thorin hits deeper and deeper places inside yourself that seemed to have been previously left unexplored.

Every time the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix it makes you cry out louder in ecstasy. You’re itching to bring your hands back down to cover your mouth and suppress the noises the rest of the tavern will surely have heard by now.

“Keep them there,” Thorin reminds you, watching intently as you struggle to obey him. “I want them to hear.” He growls. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He removes your leg from his shoulder to press it down against your chest like the other, folding you in half and pinning you into the mattress by the backs of your thighs.

“Say it,” he commands, leaning over you as he somehow increases his speed even more.

You groan beneath him, you know exactly what he wants from you but you can barely string together a coherent thought right now, let alone a sentence.

“Say it,” he says again, bringing a hand to your jaw to force your eyes to look directly into his.

“I’m yours, Thorin” you whimper beneath him and he crashes his lips into yours.

“Louder, lass,” his pace becomes more frantic and you can tell that he’s getting close.

Looking directly into his dazzling blue eyes you cry out: “I’m all yours.”

In just the nick of time, he pulls out of you with a shaky moan, spilling his seed all over your stomach.

The room is filled with the sounds of you both panting breathlessly. The air is heavy with the scent of sex and sweat. Your limbs feel so weak you can do nothing but lay on the bed in a post-orgasmic puddle, your eyelids starting to droop closed. You feel the mattress shift as Thorin rises from between your legs. You peel an eye open just in time to see him cross the room, still completely naked, to grab a wet rag.

He catches you watching him as he turns back to you, a gentle smile on his face as he returns to your side.

You can’t recall the last time you saw him look so… relaxed. His familiar scowl is nowhere to be seen as he gently wipes the cloth across your stomach and between your legs, a look of utter bliss on his face as he watches you watch him with a soft smile.

Once he’s wiped you clean he starts to rummage through the mess of clothing still littering the floor. You can spot dozens of your blouses and chemises from where you lay on the bed, but Thorin still grabs one of his own shirts from the pile.

“Sit up for me, a moment,” he asks gently. You push your aching limbs upright as best you can, Thorin’s hand hovering at your back to help you upright.

He slips his clean shirt over your head, helping to navigate your arms through the sleeves.

“Good girl,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as you lay back down.

Once you’re settled back into a horizontal position he grabs for another set of clothing. You watch silently as he pulls on his shirt and pants from earlier. He reaches for his boots next and your brow furrows.

Is he leaving? Now that he’s gotten what he wanted from you and made a mess of the room. Is he just going to walk out that door and find another place to sleep for the night?

Thorin spots your look of confusion as he pulls his other boot on. “Don’t fret lass,” he assures you, “I’ll be right back.”

He gently slips out the door and you listen to the heavy sounds of his footsteps retreating down the hall. Your eyelids are still heavy, and you’re fighting sleep that threatens to overtake you. Only a few minutes pass until you hear him returning.

Shifting in the bed you push yourself up onto your forearms with a yawn as he reenters the room. You can smell the stew before he even opens the door and it instantly makes your mouth water.

“You missed dinner,” he reminds you, passing the warm dish into your waiting hands. “I had a previous engagement,” you reply with a mouth full of broth.

“Don’t remind me,” he growls as he kicks his boots back off, locking the door behind him.

“I’d say it worked out pretty well for the both of us,” you shrug. Thorin doesn’t say anything as he crosses the room to you, pulling the blankets out from underneath your bottom to tuck you into the bed fully.

By the time he’s wrapped you up underneath the covers and climbed in beside you, you’ve already inhaled the entire bowl. He laughs as you set it down on the bedside table with a hiccup. You sink deeper into the covers beside him and he reaches his hand up to your face, wiping a dribble from the corner of your mouth.

“Tomorrow we continue our journey,” he informs you and you nod in understanding. “In that case I certainly hope I’ll be able to walk in the morning.”

He laughs and pulls you into his chest. “I’d carry you,” he murmurs, burying his face in your hair. “I’ll carry you all the way home if I have to.”

You hum in contentment as you let yourself burrow deeper into his chest. Ignoring the stab of guilt in your chest when he says the word ‘home’.

It may have been your home in the past but it can’t be any longer. You wonder if you should tell him that you don’t plan to stay in Erebor long enough to call it home again. But then he begins to trace patterns with his fingertips over your lower back and you feel your eyes start to flutter closed.

Not now, you tell yourself. Not tonight.

Because you’re realizing that there is nowhere else in Middle Earth you’d rather be right now, than wrapped up in Thorin’s warm embrace. And you don’t dare do anything to spoil this perfect moment.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

@quiall321 @genderless-ghosty-boi

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

[dvilkings]

my predictions for the bridgerton show and its remaining seasons/bridgerton siblings and their romance stories, the order we will see them all.

all the speculation surrounding who is going to be the next mc in bridgerton s4, and of course i am hoping and wanting it to be benedict. but i do think it actually will be him and not eloise.

yes, eloise’s story comes directly after polin’s, jump started by their engagement. but that is also due to the time jump polin’s story has so that pen and eloise are older and settled into the titles of “spinsters”. in s3 eloise is only in her 2nd season out, and would not be considered a spinster yet for another season or two. and also considering the fact that it would have just been another year (2 in total) since marina and philip got married, so her children would not be that old. in eloise and philip’s story, the children are a big component, and them still being toddlers/babies wouldn’t push the story like it should. (yes they could alter it, but i don’t see that happening).

as for benedict, his story offers the perfect time jump. if he were to meet sophie at the last ball at the end of s3, it would offer the perfect opportunity for a time jump between s3 and s4, perfect for ben to have been searching for his mystery woman during that time (and perfect for philip’s children to grow in time for eloise and his story).

it also brings in the build up we have seen so far for the cowper’s. cressida’s mother’s name is “araminta” and they would not have two characters of the same name, especially one uncommon as araminta (the same name of sophie’s stepmother in the books). and seeing a little more of a glimpse into cressida and her parents, even her father, it makes sense that they could be the ones connected to sophie. not to mention cressida being such a more complicated character than the audience had thought, honestly being a good mixture of rosamund and posy (sophie’s step sisters).

it also wouldn’t quite make sense for eloise to be next to have her romance. she is still young, and we have not seen any build up for her yet (the letters, the mysteriousness that leads to her running away to philip). meanwhile, we have seen constant build up for benedict, especially after his short talk with anthony in s3e1 where he mentions he liked stepping in as viscount to look over the estate while kanthony were in their honeymoon because it gave him purpose and something to do, the exact thing he seeks for in his own story and is delved deeper into then.

people will counter that eloise’s story starts because of polin’s engagement so it’s a direct correlation. and that’s how it was in the books, but i don’t think that’s how it will go in the show. i think her catalyst will be benedict getting married instead. her relationship with ben has shown to be closer and more pronounced than her other siblings, and with her and pen’s relationship still being unsteady and unsure what will happen at the end of s3, it doesn’t quite make sense for it to affect eloise as hugely as it does in the books. i think even polin’s engagement/marriage will spark eloise to start writing letters (i see polin travelling for awhile for their honeymoon, sparking eloise to want to write letters to pen and colin as much as she can, sparking further her writing to philip upon hearing of marina’s death (probably having heard of it before polin does so feeling a sense of responsibility to write to him in their stead)).

having benedict’s story come next will also we a good segway into seeing life outside of society. with eloise, francesca, hyacinth and gregory’s story not set majorily in the eyes of the ton and society, but benedict’s have some of both, being a good start to transitioning the show to that side of this world that has been built.

this way, s4 would still center around benedict and his romance with sophie, most likely after she has run away from her home (so we will probably see the flashbacks to those events throughout the season as it will have been a few years). and it also gives some time to build up eloise’s story more and maybe hearing of marina’s death, etc.

and of course, the remaining seasons will still continue in the order of the books. in s4 (benedict) and s5 (eloise), we will see more of francesca and john, them marrying, being introduced to michael, john’s death, and maybe a little bit of the separation between frannie and michael. which will lead to their story as s6, right after eloise and philip. and hyacinth and gregory will be older (and their actors as well so it won’t be inappropriate for them to have their own adult romance stories told). so for s7 and s8, they will step into their stories with gareth and lucy

you can see i have thought a lot about this and i appreciate anyone who has read this far lmao. but i would love to hear other people’s thoughts as well!!!

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #sophie beckett #philip crane #bophie #philoise #francesca bridgerton #john stirling #michael stirling #hyacinth bridgerton #gareth st clair #gregory bridgerton #lucy abernathy #bridgerton books

[b4si1wh0]

From what I can tell, I can classify the mysteries so far into 5 main mysteries:

The Mrs Flood Mystery

The Susan Twist Mystery

The Mystery of The One Who Waits

The Mystery of Ruby Sunday’s Mother(??) Parent

The Mystery of Ruby Sunday

And here are my thoughts and theories on each of them (as well as fourth-wall breaks, and theories I do not like):

Mrs Flood:

She is Susan. I believe that ‘Susan’ Twist is a red herring, and Susan deserves her return. The fact that Ruby mentioned that she would be living in her time makes me even more sure, especially considering Ruby’s tendency to make things ‘happen’ - Strictly, Star Trek - more on that later.

She is River Song. A huge jump in likelihood, because I do believe her story is over, but you never know, and I don’t think I would be complaining about her return particularly. We don’t know Mrs Flood’s first name, which might be for a reason. Melody Pond, River Song and then xxxx Flood.

She is the One Who Waits. I’m going to probably say this about everyone but… idk what else to say. sHe’S tHe RaNi!!!11!!

Susan Twist:

She is the One Who Waits/part of the Pantheon of Gods. It just seems likely.

She is Ruby/Ruby’s mother. Seems the least likely, but in that case it would be a situation of ‘watching over’ Ruby in a way, but Susan Twist looks nothing like Ruby, so very unlikely.

She is no one/a spy. This works well for my first point regarding Ruby’s parent, but I think she might be a spy for The Trickster to keep an eye on the Doctor/Ruby. They could also be the same thing as the ‘Bad Wolf’, ‘Torchwood’ and ‘Vote Saxon’ - they don’t make sense until the finale, she might not make sense until the finale.

The One Who Waits:

Obviously one of the pantheon of Gods - I do believe the most powerful.

Probably Ruby’s mother, or someone related to Ruby.

We don’t know who they are yet. Some new guy. Hoping any one of these.

Ruby’s Parent:

THE TRICKSTER FROM THE SARAH JANE ADVENTURES! The hood and cloak are the same, the desolate London is so similar and the theme when Maria has The Trickster’s box in her bed and when Ruby was hoisted into the air is the same - please just search on youtube, it will probably be there. Plus, The Trickster would work well with the Pantheon of Gods - the Gods of CHAOS - what The Trickster thrives on.

A powerful being from the Gods of Chaos - an evil thing, the One Who Waits.

Someone the Doctor may recognise - though I doubt it somehow.

Ruby:

The daughter of one of the Gods of Chaos - you cannot deny her powers, in terms of the snow, mentioning things and then they exist - she mentions the Butterfly Effect- it happens. She mentions Star Trek in Space Babies, and the crew are dressed in uniforms eerily similar to the Star Trek ones. She mentions Strictly - who come but Johannes and Shirley from Strictly.

A supernatural entity - like a changeling, or something like that. The DNA scan said she was human, but it was only 70% done - that might be foreshadowing something - in terms that she is not human. In The Wild Blue Yonder, The Doctor let superstition come in - maybe he also let Ruby in.

A bad guy. One of the Gods of Chaos, the One Who Waits. Getting close to The Doctor all this time… maybe this won’t even be revealed until series 15. That would be great in my opinion honestly!

The last episode - ‘The Legend of Ruby Sunday’ makes me believe that she is older than she is. It is not the story, it is the legend - the Google definition being ‘a traditional story sometimes popularly regarded as historical but not authenticated. Not a word being used for a 19-year-old girl from Manchester, methinks.

Fourth-wall breaks: The Legend of Ruby Sunday seems to be based on a TV show - now we get to the ‘Doctor Who’ is a TV show in ‘Doctor Who’ - e.g. The Doctor can hear the non-diegetic music. I think this is a great idea. (I have written a fan-fiction about this 2 years ago hehe).

I DO NOT think these theories are true: 

The Doctor is Ruby’s parent. Nope. Too obvious, lazy and just plain weird.

Ruby is Ruby’s parent?? Weird and impossible. Very very timey-wimey.

The Master is returning - I don’t think they are this series - keep in mind that we only last saw them 6 episodes as of now (after Boom - not counting The Tooth).

THANK YOU READING IF YOU’VE READ ALL OF THIS!!!

#doctor who #15th doctor #ruby sunday #ncuti gatwa #millie gibson #doctor who series 14 #doctor who season 14 #doctor who series 1 #doctor who season 1 #nuwho #new new who #doctor who theories #susan twist #mrs flood

[gh0stsp1d3r]

new to your blog and i have to say every fic is just 🤌🏼 chefs kiss lmao

have a little request !

jj maybank x kook!reader where they’re in a secret relationship and he goes to midsummers with her 🫢

ahhh! welcome!! im so so glad you like my stuff (: <3 i love this request so much

ℳ𝒾𝒹𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂ℯ𝓇𝓈

Masterlist

Your mom swirled the glass in her hand as she laughed with a coworker. She had hosted a dinner party, for all her work friends, and you were hating everything about your life right now.

You internally groaned when one of her coworkers turned to you and began to talk.

“So, uh, y/n, who are you planning on going to midsummers with?” One of them said, flashing a smile at you from across the table.

“Uh, no one… right now.” You lied, giving them a small smile.

“Oh, well, isn’t that perfect? My son- actually doesn’t have a date yet, and me and your mom were just talking about how cute you two would be together! Maybe you’d wanna… meet him?”

Your face fell, but you just gave her a false smile, picking at your food with your fork as you gave her a small nod.

“Wonderful!” She exclaimed, making you bite back a remark and stand up.

“Where are you going?” Your mom asked with a furrowed brow.

“I’m gonna eat in my room. I’m not feeling good.” You told her, picking up the plate and practically running to your room.

You put the plate on your bed, shutting the door and grabbing your phone, immediately opening up JJs contact.

“How would you like to go to midsummers with me?” You asked him, watching the three dots pop up quickly.

“Thought you said that your mom wouldn’t like it.”

You thought about your response for a moment. “I don’t care, Pleaseeeeee?”

“You know damn well I wouldn’t say no to you”

You smiled at that, sighing in relief as you leaned back in your bed and held your phone.

“I know, see you tmr? We can go get you a suit or you can borrow one of my brothers.”

“Sure, and I’ll just borrow your brothers”

“I think I’m gonna go to sleep, goodnight jj.”

“goodnight” he told you, putting his phone down and looking up at the ceiling.

“Who the hells got you smiling like that?” John B asked from the doorway, abruptly stopping.

“Jesus Chr- can’t just sneak up on me like that, dude!” Jj jumped, hiding his phone away as he spoke. John B snickered, laughing as he walked away.

———-

The day of Midsummers, JJ stood at your door, rapping on the door with his headphones hung around his neck, hair disheveled and face surprisingly shaved clean.

He looked around the patio, picking up some decorations he saw, and smiling when he saw a little stone with your name written on it, something you did when you were younger.

“Oh, Jake, she’s just been-“ your mom opened the door, starting to talk before she looked up to see not Jake, but JJ.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she was taken aback at the boy.

“Hello, ma’am.” He said, putting the stone down and looking at your mom. “Is she here?”

She looked him up and down, a slight disgusted look visible. “Sorry, I think you have the wron-“

“JJ!” You shouted, smiling as you stepped down the stairs. His eyes widened at the sight of you, he swears he could feel his heart beating out of its chest.

You smiled and hugged him, pushing your mom and wrapping your arms around him. He smiled, closing his eyes and hugging you back, leaving light kisses on your neck.

“You look…” he started when he pulled away. “Breathtaking.” He spoke, his words making you beam.

“What a romantic.” You teased him. “You look great! I told you it would look good on you, jayj!” You said, putting your hands on his suit jacket and fixing it.

“Thanks. You ready?” He asked you, you nodded and began to turn before your mom spoke up.

“Wait, you’re going to midsummers… with him?” Your mom interrupted the moment, making both of you look at her now.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yeah. Is that okay?”

“It’s… what about Jake?”

“I told Jake that he was a nice guy but I already have a boyfriend.” You shrugged.

She was stunned at this information, her beloved, sweet, daughter was dating a dirty pogue. At least that’s how she saw it.

“It was nice meeting you, Ms. L/n.” He called out as you both turned around, a smug smile on his face as he looked at you.

You sighed, shaking your head. “I’m fucking grounded after this. I know it.”

At the actual party, everyone seemed shocked to see you all glammed up, but with a pogue boy hanging on your arm the whole time.

The two of you seemed like opposites, your pink dress flowed around the floor, while he had a baseball cap on, looking like he threw the suit on two minutes before he came. He pretty much did.

“You okay, Jayj?” You asked him quietly when you both sat down.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You looked around, everyone judging him loudly and quietly. You frowned and turned back to him.

“Everyone’s looking. I can understand if-“

“Let them.” He shrugged it off. “I don’t give a fuck about any of their snobby ass opinions,” he said with a small smile, not so subtly flicking one of the couples off.

You let your worries dissolve with his words about the stares and the whispers, especially when you saw JJ looked at you like that. Like you hung the stars themselves, like you were the only girl in the world.

“Do you fancy a dance, milady?” JJ asked you suddenly in a posh accent, holding his hand out.

You gasped, holding your hand to your heart. “Why yes I do, good sir.” You played along, a smile playing on your lips as he kissed your hand and took yours in his.

#jj obx #jj maybank x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x kook!reader #obx series #obx imagine #obx x reader

[reidsdaisies]

Heyooo, for our boy Lesley pls x

👄🚪🍯💘🔥😭

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐞

blurb ask game

👄: sharing their first kiss

🚪: showing up at the other's door, begging for comfort

🍯: friends to lovers

💘: love at first sight

🔥: slow burn

😭: unrequited love

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; lesley smith-juniment x gn!reader ༉‧´ˎ˗ summary; Friends is what you are, what you’ve always been. That fact breaks your heart. ༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; friends to lovers?? trope, mentions of reader’s cheating ex, unrequited love, reader is obsessed with him fr and lesley is hung up over Summer.., kissing, sadness and crying. ༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; 1.8k ༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; currently preparing to be hunted down and threatened with pitchforks (jk..) this was so fun to write.. i feel like it has potential for more 😭

mgg masterlist ; main masterlist ; request guidelines ; inbox

You weren’t even supposed to be working that day. The only reason you were was because your coworker had a family emergency pop up, and she begged you to swap shifts with her. She was your friend first and foremost, so you accepted, wishing her well.

That didn’t mean you were happy about it, though.

You sat behind the counter, head in hand, listening to the sounds of a ticking clock above you. There was not an hour left in the work day, yet it felt like an eternity.

The sound of a bell chiming was what pulled you from your thoughts of boredom. It signaled that there was a customer in need of service. You were almost inclined to tell him you were closing early and to leave, but something about him made you change your mind completely.

The handsome stranger standing in the doorway had an awkward smile plastered on his face, eyes bouncing from wall to wall, scanning over the array of products that the store offered.

“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, picking your head up and looking straight at him.

His ear perked, quickly looking over to you.

“Uh, yeah, yeah you can! Do you guys sell gloves?”

“What do you think?” You laughed.

“Uh, yes? The sign outside said–“

“That we’re a garden supply store. So yeah, we sell gardening gloves. Unless you meant like mittens, cause then we don’t have those.”

“Yeah, I meant gardening gloves. I only asked because I’m looking for specific ones.. I suppose I should’ve said that before.” He grinned nervously.

You’d gotten up by that point, rounding the counter to stand in front of the man. He switched tabs on his phone to the search tab he had opened, presenting it to you. You studied the picture well.

“Hmm.. I think we have those. If not, then I’m sure we have something very similar.”

You motioned for him to follow you, which he did. You stopped in a corner of the store, eyes scanning over each shelf carefully.

“Ahh, here they are,” you smiled to yourself, plucking a pair from the middle shelf and handing them to the man. “Nearly identical.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, staring down at the item, lifting the tag on them. “Thank you..” the man started, bringing his sight over to your name tag. “Y/N.”

You nodded, flashing him a smile of your own, yours far from nervous. You were enjoying the man’s company so far, even from the very little he spoke.

“Is this all, sir?”

“Yeah, and it’s Lesley. Lesley Smith-Juniment.” He told you his full name, as if he was expecting it to be used by you.

“Alright Lesley Smith-Juniment, let’s ring you up.”

At checkout he told you he was planning on starting a garden in his yard. You also learned that he’d most likely be coming back very soon.

You couldn’t wait to see his pretty face again, or to call him by his pretty name again. You couldn’t wait to see him again. You were elated.

…

The rain came down hard, your knocks on the door just as hard. Luckily you donned a raincoat, lent to you by the man who’s door you were on the verge of breaking in.

The door suddenly flung open, taking you aback, a small gasp escaping you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Lesley asked, panicked, beginning to lead you inside his house by your arm.

You stumbled into the foyer, too focused on kicking your shoes off to answer. You let them fall to the ground and lay sideways on the rug.

“He did it again,” you bit, huffing, eyes set on the wooden floor.

“Oh, y/n,” he cooed. He still held onto your arm, and he pulled you back in closer to him, but you pushed him off.

“I don’t want your pity, Lesley,” your voice cracked.

You were there because that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to feel bad for you, to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go.

Even though that’s what you longed for, it hurt too much to admit, and it was wrong to want. He had feelings for a girl, you were in a relationship – well, a dysfunctional relationship that had ended not an hour before. The man was a placeholder anyway.. and the feeling was mutual.

You groaned, slumping into his arms, too tired to fight what you truly desire anymore. He would hold you but you still wore your (his) raincoat and it was positively drenched in water.

“C’mon, Y/N,” he grunted as he lifted you up from the arms to stand straight again. He was tired himself, dressed in his pajamas, hair a mess, but he’d always make you a priority. You were his friend, his best friend, after all..

Lesley slid the coat off you, making a deal of hanging it up before he walked you into his living room. You immediately curled up on the familiar plush cushions of his couch, hugging a throw pillow close to you. You used it to dramatically muffle your sobs.

The brunet returned not 5 minutes later with a mug of tea in his hand and a warm smile on his face. He sat down beside you on the couch, one hand on the handle of the cup and the other rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh.

“Homemade mint tea,” he told you as you shifted around, sitting up. Homemade mint tea. Mint from his garden. The garden his friend, the woman he had a crush on, prompted him to start. The garden you helped him with.

You tried not to look bitter. Lesley was one of the kindest, softest men you’d met in your entire life. It wasn’t his fault that he likes a woman who is quite literally engaged. You didn’t want him to ever think that you weren’t considerate of him and everything he did for and with you.

“Thanks, Lee.” You mustered up a smile. It was still a sad one, though. I mean, you were literally cheated on, for the 3rd time might I add, by your ‘boyfriend’, if you can even call him one, who’s now your ex. You’d been crying all day. And then, being with the only person who you trusted to tell such a thing to, who had his own issues with his love life, it made you even sadder.

You sipped from the mug, swallowing the liquid. He had put a bit of sugar in it.. just like how you always begged him to do but he never did until then.

“It’s really good,” you whispered, trying hard not to cry, but you failed. You tried to conceal your sorrow but the sniffling gave it away. Lesley looked at you with utmost compassion and understanding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, brows furrowed and eyes focused on you.

“About what..?” You managed through a choked sob.

“About the reason you’re crying.”

‘No.’

Is what you wanted to answer with, but you couldn’t. What you wanted in the moment was to continue doing what you had been for years, avoiding it altogether. But all that avoiding it gave you was resentment towards Lesley and a girl you barely knew. You didn’t truly want to continue with it, so you mustered a nod, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Lee..” you cleared your throat, correcting yourself, “Lesley Smith-Juniment, I.. I’m going to be vulnerable with you..”

“Please do,” he encouraged softly.

“My ex-boyfriend.. he’s not the man I’m in love with. My feelings for him go no deeper than surface-level. And the feeling is clearly mutual,” you tried to make a joke out of your last sentence, but Lesley didn’t laugh. He was taking this seriously.

“I have feelings for someone who isn’t him..”

“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” He asked, as if he was confused. Maybe he actually was, you’re not sure. He’s smart, he should’ve known exactly where you were leading with this.

“Wh-what I’m trying to say is..” you stumbled over your words, pausing for a moment to take another breath. He must’ve known what he was doing by picking your hand up gently, holding it in his. “I-I’m in love with you.. I have been for so long.” You whisper wistfully, glossy eyes staring straight into his eyes for approval.

It wasn’t fair that you couldn’t be together. He was single, you were through with your ex-‘boyfriend’, the girl he liked was taken. You were both available.

You were so close that you could feel his breath fan across your cheek, faces mere inches apart, your ragged breathing and sniffles all he could hear. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more your vision started to warp. You genuinely believed he was looking at you lovingly, wordlessly telling you that he felt the same way.

You weren’t thinking properly, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning forward, pressing your lips to his. His lips were soft like rose petals, and they tasted as sweet as roses smell. He wasn’t pulling back, in fact, he was tightening his grip on your hand, kissing you harder before he finally broke the kiss, pulling back from the force that you were.

He stared at you dazed, eyes scanning your features. There was a glint of hope in your eyes, as if you really believed he’d kiss you again.

“Y/N, you need to go.”

“Wh-what?” Panic flooded your brain.

“I like someone else, Y/N. You need to understand that and you need to leave. Go repair things with your boyfriend, on your own this time, or don’t.”

He pulled you off the couch, grabbing the mug and setting it down on the coffee table carelessly as he began dragging you back towards the door.

“Lesley, what do you mean? It’s so late, have you seen the weather? You can surely hear it.” You were frantically trying to change his mind, watching helplessly as he rummaged through the closet, looking for that raincoat. You were hesitant to put it on, but you did, and you did so slowly.

“You’re right, it’s late. I’m going to bed, and you’re going to get back in your car and drive home.”

“No-“

“Yes. Yes, Y/N. Don’t protest with me.”

It was rare that Lesley used that grating of a tone with you, but you knew it was warranted. You’d forced yourself into his home, confessed to him when you should’ve known he didn’t feel the same, and most importantly, kissed him without warning.

Tears began to stream down your face again. You didn’t deal well when people were harsh to you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, frowning. “I love you, but I need you to go home, for both of our benefits, okay?”

“O-okay..” you agreed, voice sounding utterly dejected. “Are we still watching the game on Sunday?”

“We’ll see, Y/N.”

That was the last thing he said to you before he shut the heavy door in your face, leaving you to drown in the storm of your own creation.

Let me know your thoughts about this in the comments or my inbox and like & reblog to support! Much love <33

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