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lovisyandereblog · 5 months

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Eyes on Me

Yandere Submissive Stalker X GN Reader

Part 3! Probably last part….maybe

Part 1 and 2 here. Also guys Im so sorry for my mistakes in my last post! I accidentally used she/her pronouns in my writing, I genuinely didn’t even realise it. Im so sorry guys!!

7 weeks. It had been 7 long fucking weeks and you were still stuck here.

Noah had kept you captive for nearly two months now, but he never let you feel like you were one.

He would gift you things you wanted nearly everyday, Noah would cook your favourite dishes for you, he would shower you with love and affection, always making sure your every want and need was met.

All he asked for in return was your love…thats all he wanted.

And it seemed like you were slowly giving in.

What else could you do?! He was so adorable, so cute, so kind, so sweet…you were slowly becoming more lenient towards him.

For example, you weren’t kicking, hitting or screaming anymore. You were eating your food rather than throwing it away and yelling. And you were a bit more welcoming to his kisses, his soft and loving kisses.

Noah was also letting you roam free in his large house. You had an idea of who he was now. Noah was a very famous doctor, and was very wealthy. He was a psychiatrist who always treated his patients with care and love, never making them feel like they were a burden.

But although he let you roam the house freely, he never let you outside.

Creak…

The door opened and you stared at it, the same sweet smile you saw everyday greeting you.

“Good morning my love~!! Have you had a nice nights sleep?” Noah came closer to you, stroking your cheek and kissing your forehead. You were so used to it at this point that you didn’t even bat your eye at his affection.

“ `Morning…” You mumbled as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, sitting up slowly.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look in the mornings~?” Noah said in a sing-song voice, twirling a piece of your y/c hair with his finger.

You tried to hide your blush as you turned your head away, “W-whatever…”

Noah chuckled and kissed your cheek again, “Come! Go get freshened up and lets have breakfast! I’ve asked the cook to make you your favourite french toast!”

He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to praise him. He practically lived for your praise and attention, but you would rarely give it to him.

“Oh..thank you Noah..Ill go get ready…” You murmured as you rushed to the toilet. Noah watched you go, hearts practically engrained in his eyes. For you. Just for you~

At the breakfast table, Noah was staring at you lovingly as he fed you the toast.

“I can feed myself…” You tried to protest, but he whined.

“P-please! Please let me Y/N…Im begging you~” His eyes were so cute, you just couldn’t help but give into his pleads.

“Fine..just stop looking at me like that…” You replied hastily, and he immediately brightened up and went straight back to feeding you.

After your 5th or 6th bite, you started feeling quite full, putting your hand up to stop the bite in Noah’s hand to come near your mouth. He nodded and ate the bite himself, smiling at you with such a lovesick grin.

You swallow nervously, looking at him. You had to ask him a question really badly, it was really important, “Noah?”

“Yes my angel, my love, my darling~?” Noah answered, hearts in his eyes as he looks at you. You had to keep yourself from smiling at his cheesy terms of endearment.

“Can you please let me go outside? I haven’t seen the outside world in like 2 months…” You complained, making him frown immediately and look away.

“Y-Y/N, you know how sorry I am…I feel so guilty baby…” Tears already filled his eyes as he spoke, making you sigh as you always gave into his tears.

“But…but I can’t let you go…Im scared you’re going to leave me. I can’t live without you my love…I’ll die!” Noah started to cry, holding your hands and bringing it to his heart. On the inside, he knew he was manipulating you but what else could he do?! He genuinely did love you so so much.

He loved you to the point of obsession.

You thought to yourself as you just stared at him, he sniffed and gave you puppy eyes. You knew you had to do something in order to get out of this place, otherwise he’d just keep you locked up forever. You wanted your life back and you knew just how to do it.

It involved giving into Noah’s love in order to regain your freedom. There was no other way. You had tried to escape in the past but he always…always found you.

“Noah…if I become your..partner..will you let me have more freedom?” You asked, and he immediately jumped up, looking at you hopefully.

“Y-Y/N?! Are….are you being serious?!” Noah couldn’t believe it, all his hard work finally paid off. You would finally be all his.

“Yes Noah, I’ve thought about it a lot and I want to start a relationship with you, but you have to promise you’ll let me go-” You had barely finished your sentence when he suddenly fainted, making you let out a loud scream.

You immediately went on your knees, cradling him in your lap as you tried to nudge him awake.

‘What the fuck??’ You thought to yourself as you check his pulse and sighed in relief when it’s normal.

“Now what am I to do with you…” You mumble to yourself before a plan comes to mind.

Paybacks a bitch…

Noah woke up with a groan, his eyes slowly opening yet his sight was still hazy.

‘What happened…?’ He thought to himself as he tried to sit up, but his eyes widened when he couldn’t move. He looked up and saw his wrists were tied together and attached to the headboard of the bed. To add to this, his ankles were tied to the bottom poles of the bed. He looked down and noticed he was now wearing only his boxers and a t-shirt.

He thrashed around, trying to get out of his restraints to no avail. This couldn’t be happening. Where the hell were you?!

Noah began to sob and panic as millions of thoughts raced through his poor little head. He started to think of how you had left him and he’d never see you again.

“Y/N!! P-PLE-HIC-PLEASEE I’M S-SORRY…DON’T L-LEAVE ME…I’LL DIE W-HIC-WITHOUT YOU!!!” He was genuinely going crazy without you, where did you go?? Why would you leave him? Was he not good enough?! He’d change for you—he will; just give him a chance!!

“Y/N!! C-COME BA—” His words were cut off by you suddenly placing a hand over his mouth, “Shut the fuck up,” You seethed, glaring at him as he looked up at you with teary blue eyes.

Where you came from, he didn’t know but he was just happy that you were here. Although he was genuinely scared from how angry you looked, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the fact that you hadn’t left. He was so delusional that he thought you had came back for him❤️❤️❤️ (A/N he’s so weird I love him)

But he also had a little problem because of you on top of him; all of his fantasies were coming true. Oh god just ruin him already!!

He whined against your hand and tried to buck his hips up, making you grip onto his mouth even harder, “I said shut up you fucking brat, can’t listen to simple instructions?”

The mix of your strong body on top of him and your cruel words made the poor boy’s eyes roll to the back of his head as his back arched; pathetic moans leaving him.

No way….did he just….?

You look down and saw a wet patch forming on his crotch, you internally smirked at how much of an effect you had on him but you had to keep up your strict persona, “Did you just fucking cum, you slut?”

Noah panicked, his pretty eyes filling with even more tears as he shakes his head “no,” worried that you’d be disgusted with him. (He secretly wanted you to treat him like trash)

But could you blame him for cumming?? You were literally on top of him looking as beautiful as ever, whispering demeaning words at him and you expected him not to cum?

“Mmm…n-not a s-slut…” He tried to mumble against your hand, looking at you with such love in his eyes. You nearly felt bad for him.

You suddenly slap him on the face, making him whine out in pain and pleasure as he breathed heavily from the release of his mouth from your hand. You took a second to admire the sight below you:

His blonde locks were messy, bangs sticking to his forehead. His cheeks were all rosy and wet with tears as was his mouth which was covered in his drool. Noah’s big blue eyes were looking to the side, embarrassed to face you as he bit his pretty pink lips.

You gripped his hair roughly, making him whine out, “Did I say you could talk back? Did I say you could fucking look away?”

He shook his head frantically, mentally face palming himself for disobeying you, “N-no! No…‘mm sorry!! S-sorry…please…”

“Sorry’s not going to cut it pretty boy…I think I need to teach you a lesson hmm? For all the bad things you did…” You leaned in close to his ear and he could feel his dick harden again from your proximity, “….for kidnapping me, keeping me locked up here…you’ve been a bad boy haven’t you~?”

Noah had started to sob, tears cascading down his adorable pink cheeks; he didn’t want to be a bad boy!! He wanted to be good, so good, for you!

“N-no! Mm so-sorry!! I’m n-not a bad boy! I-I’m a g-good boy…your good boy!!” He desperately begged, looking up at you in hopes you’d believe him. He knew what he had done was wrong but his intentions were never bad, he promises!!

You couldn’t help the heat pooling in your lower stomach from the way he was begging, god his desperation was so hot. So what if he was a deranged, psychotic, obsessive lunatic? He was cute!!

“But you haven’t proven to me you’re a good boy…so a punishment is really needed~” You said with a devilish smirk forming on your face, making both his heartbeats race (if you get what I mean💀💀)

You lean over and open one of the drawers, an assortment of items you had bought while he had been unconscious. His eyes widened in fear and excitement as he saw you bring a ball gag to his mouth, “Mmnnoo!! Y-Y/N!!” He tried to beg but you had already sealed his mouth shut.

Then you proceeded to pick up a remote like device you bought, Noah looked at it in confusion while tilting his head. You smirked at how adorable he looked, he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into.

With the click of a button, Noah’s back arched as he felt pleasure coursing through his body. He hadn’t even realised that a vibrator was lodged inside him! You must have put it in while he was unconscious.

“MMMNNGGH~!” He moaned against the gag, his body twisting and shaking, poor little baby was so sensitive!

You turned the vibrator off and he slumped down, his chest heaving, “Now for your punishment, I’m going to leave you here with that vibrator on and you’re going to cum over and over again until I’m satisfied, do you understand?”

Noah’s eyes widened and he shook his head profusely. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to feel you, to touch you, to have you make him feel good; not this stupid toy!

He also didn’t want to be alone, he felt like he’d die if you weren’t near him so he began to cry, “N-noooo!! Mmm stayy!” His voice came out muffle which only made you smirk even more.

It was evident you were a sadist; seeing him whine and beg like that really turned you on. However you were doing this also to make sure it was engrained in his head who was in charge: you. It was to make sure he’d never pull a stunt like this again and would also prove his obedience to you.

“You said you wanted to be my good boy didn’t you Noah~? So be a good boy and take it.” You said sternly, turning the vibrator on once more before walking out of the room, leaving the door open a little bit so you’d hear him.

His moans and cries followed you as he begged for you to come back, but with the gag in his mouth he could only do so much.

Noah’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he came again with a cry, his boxers were now dirty with his jizz. He sobbed as the vibrations bullied his poor prostrate, he wanted you to make it feel better, please come back!

And then he came for the third time, and the fourth and then the fifth. It felt like hours had gone by (it had only been 30 minutes) since you left him in this state; his whole body was shaking as his hips bucked to try and get away from the vibrations but to no avail.

“Nnnngghh~!! ‘S t-too m-much…too much!” He whined, mainly to himself but it came out as mixed garbles.

You finally graced him with your presence and entered the room, your own arousal building up at the sight of him. But you also felt pity on him, it was clear that he had never felt the touch of anyone his entire life—let alone come numerous amounts of times!

He hadn’t noticed you came in yet, his mind was all foggy and hazy; the only thing he could focus on was the vibrations in his ass.

You say next to him and his head immediately darted towards you, tears pooled his eyes and he begged you to make it stop, “P-pleasshh~” He tried to say but the gag and the tormenting toy stopped him from being able to vocalise himself.

You cooed at him and turned the vibrations to the lowest level, yet not quite turning it off yet, “Have you learnt your lesson~?” You ask, and he nods eagerly and tries to get closer to you: to feel your comfort, your warmth, your affection, your love~

You take mercy on him and take out the gag since it was clearly hurting his jaw, he lets out a moan of relief as incoherent ‘thank yous’ and ‘I love yous’ leave his mouth.

“Shhh…it’s okay, I’ve got you~” You whisper in his ear, you gently take his underwear off and take the vibrator out, making him whine, “Mmmh…s-sensitive..ahhnngh~”

He gave you such adorable eyes, pleading for you to make him feel better so you cupped his face, “Don’t worry, I’ll take all the pain away, I promise…you’re my good boy right~?”

As soon as he heard the words, “Good boy,” he immediately nodded like a mad-man, “Mmm your good boy! P-please…please…y-yours…”

You could tell he was extremely exhausted from the torment you put him through, so you untied his wrists and ankles which made him cling onto you like a spider monkey; you let out a soft chuckle, “Noah…you have to let me go…I need to clean you up…”

“N-no! D-don’t go…please…” Tears pooled his eyes yet again, making you coo at him which he melted to.

“Shhh…alright, we can cuddle for a bit but then I have to clean you okay~?” You wrapped your arms around his waist aswell, being careful not to touch his very sensitive lower body.

Noah could still feel the tingles and electricity coursing through his body, but once you held him in your arms—he felt all that pain go away. He snuggled further into you, his face buried in your neck.

“I love you so much…I love you Y/N..” He mumbled against your skin, kissing it softly.

And you found yourself saying something you’d never imagine saying the first day you met him;

“I love you too Noah~”

Ahhhh! Finally finished this!!

—>my masterlist <3

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tripleyeeet · 9 months

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WHERE'S YOUR PATIENCE? (7)

SUMMARY: You and Astarion finally have the conversation. Among other things.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5,912

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, teasing, little bit of hand stuff, vaginal sex, CONSENT IS SEXY, mentions of past sexual/physical trauma, potential spoilers for acts 1/2.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Say thank you to the 2 bottles of Corona and the tequila shot I took to loosen up my brain enough to write this smut. I couldn't have done it without them. (And also my bardic inspiration @imgoingtofreakoutnow)

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

The weeks following feel like an uphill battle —a never-ending course of constant information and action all tied into one long work month. Without warning, you find yourself overwhelmingly annoyed with the pace of it all. Not to mention the unwavering guilt, knowing that if you’re not fighting hordes of Absolute cultists or doing research on how to rip the Illithid out of your head, your time is essentially wasted.

Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

Considering the severity of everything, even when you’re resting from a long day's work, you always find your mind wandering. Picking apart texts from old books you’ve found during infiltration missions. Oftentimes late at night when Astarion’s come back from feeding, you spend a lot of your time together relaying said thoughts. Using the late-night silence to fuel the drive that’s been missing throughout the day.

By the time you get to the Inn within the Shadowlands, you’re surprised he’s not sick of you for it. Nowadays, just the mere thought of your own voice makes you want to rip off your ears, and although you know it’s crucial that you discuss things like this, you know there are other things that are important too.

Like your shared confession. And your promise to talk of the past when you were both ready.

Since that night you haven’t asked him about it. With everything happening so quick, it’s been pushed to the back of your mind —lost amongst the clutter of thoughts that you’re often forced to leave behind. Deep down, you imagine he’s somewhat in the same boat but still, there’s even more guilt that surfaces. Filling both sides of the spectrum like an overflowing glass of water —so much so that by the time you’re gifted a proper night’s rest in an actual bed you’re already too tired to care.

As soon as you enter the Inn after your journey through the cursed shadows of the forest you head straight to the bar, barely batting an eye at the barkeep who looks you up and down, horrified by the state of your dress.

“Whiskey, please.”

“And… whatever else you got back there that doesn’t taste of fermentation.”

You turn to see Astarion already standing beside you, moving his hand to the small of your back to usher you into one of the stools. Immediately, you oblige with a sigh, blinking back sleep as you rest your bloodied elbows on the countertop, earning yourself a look of annoyance that Astarion squashes with an unfriendly scowl, showcasing his canine teeth.

If you weren’t so exhausted you probably would’ve laughed at such a sight, but considering you are, you instead let out a soft hum and down your whiskey when it’s placed in front of you, signalling for another.

“I see you’ve already decided how you’re going to spend your night off.”

Nodding your head, you barely register his words, slumping your damp forehead down against the counter with a groan. “How the fuck are we even alive?”

It’s a fair question when you take into account all that you’ve been through. All the puzzles and battles and endless expectations to now save all of Baldur’s Gate just to get these damned Illithids out of your head.

At this rate, you and everyone else should’ve been dead ages ago. Either murdered and looted for your tadpoles and their powers or already turned into tentacle-faced beasts. Not sitting next to Astarion, covered in blood, sweat and tears, wondering how the hell you’re supposed to keep going. How you’re meant to keep this unrealistic momentum of burnout over and over and—

He runs his palm along the base of your spine, drawing his fingers up and down as he takes a sip of his drink. “Hells if I know, darling.”

Feeling a bit delirious, you laugh and raise your head to look between him and the new drink in front of you. “We should’ve been dead by now.”

“You? Perhaps. Me?” He pauses to dig his digits into your aching neck, making your head fall forward again in delight. “Well, I have far too much to do after all of this is over.”

“Yeah, like what?”

When he doesn’t answer right away you remember the conversation. That moment by the fire where you kissed and confessed and told each other you’d talk about it. Immediately it fills you with anxiety, clouding your features with a worried brow and frowning lips as you crane your neck to the side.

When you look at him you notice he’s not really there. His eyes sit in their normal position, staring back but there’s nothing. Not a thought or feeling; just two empty voids surrounded by bloodied dissociation.

It pulls at your heartstrings far too much —makes you let out a breath and raise your frame to slip off the stool and move to hug him. Despite the lack of attention, he manages to follow suit as it happens, wrapping his arms around your neck as you burrow into his chest, once again sighing, wondering if you should apologize and offer your ear or merely forget the exchange entirely.

Before you can even think to do either he’s standing up, keeping his hold as he grabs your other whiskey and proceeds to drink it down, barely batting an eye.

Raising your brow at him, you feel his fingers dig into your neck again, rubbing rough circles that have you resting your forehead against his chest, trying to form any semblance of a thought.

It makes him laugh and raise his hand to your hair, running his fingers through the roots. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

You’re already off and climbing the stairs before you’re able to answer. Pushing through the pain that radiates through your calves with every step. Leaning against him with tired eyes that eventually open up when the door creaks open in front you of.

Somehow you managed to earn yourself a private room. One that’s actually clean with a real bed and a tub —all of which almost have you in tears.

“Nice of them to give us some privacy, hm?” Astarion smirks down at you as he speaks, watching as you roll your eyes and finally pull yourself away, reaching for the clasps of your leather vest. Like the rest of you, it’s coated in a thick layer of dirt and blood. All of it dried and coming off in disgusting clumps that have you scrunching up your face. Brushing off the top few clasps, you try not to focus on the way it feels against your fingers. How it collects under your nails as you narrow your eyes, struggling to get the damned thing off.

It makes him scoff and pull you back in, pushing your hands aside to undo the first clasp. “I feel as though I recall a time where you claimed to be patient?”

As he moves down to the next one you shake your head and look away. “Emotionally, yes. Physically I—“

“I’d say you’re far more patient in that regard, actually.”

For a second you’re not sure what he means but then it hits you. He means sex. Physical intimacy. A line of which you hadn’t yet crossed due to several things. The main being your lack of conversation —your lack of focus to a promise you both said you wouldn't break.

Obviously, the lack of time hasn’t helped either, but as you stand there, watching his fingers pull apart your top layer, you find yourself visibly frustrated. Angry at yourself for not taking the time to offer the piece of yourself you desperately want.

After that night it was always your intention to go first. To tell him all about your past in order to open the floodgates. You figured if you were brave enough to do it —to be the one to bite the bullet— maybe he’d inevitably follow.

But then life got in the way and now nearly five weeks later it suddenly feels like you’re stuck in this limbo. One where you’re dancing on the edge, teetering with bated breath. Wondering if maybe the time is right.

As his hands move further and further you find yourself fighting your imagination. Brushing off the feelings that start to surface as you stare down at his hands, watching their delicate ministrations.

It’s apparent then that he's no stranger to the art of undress. As his fingers twist and turn to work the clasps apart, you have to stop yourself from giving in to temptation, knowing that it’s wrong. Remembering the promise you made.

Moving your hand to stop him, you clear your throat and watch his eyes. Noticing the way they filter through the air to eventually focus on you, blinking as if he wasn’t there to begin with.

“Can we talk now? Maybe?”

His hands sit against your leathers, gripping the metal with tightened fingers that still somehow manage to pale from their hold despite his complexion. “Course.”

Running your fingers along his knuckles, you slowly wrap your fists around them, bringing them up toward your mouth to place soft kisses despite the mess of battle that lingers. Then you drag him further into the room, placing him on the edge of the bed.

“Do you know who Beshaba is?” you ask, plain and simple, unsure how else to start the conversation of your past as you sit beside him.

“The deity?”

You nod, slowly, letting your gaze anxiously fall to your lap. “I grew up in one of her churches after my parents died. Learned everything I know about the world from a priestess named Hessa.”

As you try your best to further collect your thoughts, Astarion leans in, narrowing his eyes at the way your hands start to shake against your thigh.

“Is she the one in your dream?” he asks.

Without hesitation, you nod. “They thrive on infliction,” you explain after, watching him frown. Taking in the way his demeanour changes without warning to become something you’re not quite sure you've seen before. “Their doctrine revolves around fear. If you don’t participate you’re expected to endure only pain and misfortune.”

You remember growing up underneath all these women, listening to their cautionary tales of Beshaba’s terror. It instilled fear in you from the get-go —taught you that the only way to endure the horrors of this life was to devote yourself to her. To offer everything you could in exchange for peace, so you did. Unwaveringly so.

“As a child, I grew up listening to these women scare everyone for the sake of their goddess.” You pause to swallow, feeling the memories of Hessa’s knife each time you later disobeyed, slice across your skin. “Then, as an adult, I followed the cycle.”

“Willingly?”

You shrug your shoulders. “At first.”

You remember as soon as you were old enough you were sent out to recruit. To trick the minds of all the simple folk, weaving fabricated tales of disasters that were carried out by Beshaba’s hand. It was difficult to do. Seeing all those ruined minds come crawling to you for salvation —begging for forgiveness in the form of eternal loyalty.

Thankfully though, it grew old pretty quickly. The formula of travelling Faerûn, following the endless calamity and blaming it on the lack of faith was enough to pull you out of the fog. As each day passed, it became increasingly hard to pretend your faith was still intact, so you formulated a plan.

“When we arrived in Baldur’s Gate I tried to leave. In the middle of the night I abandoned my sisters —tried to run and never look back but…”

There’s a moment where your mouth just closes, trailing from the memories of your story; straying solely to the image of Hessa. To her hands and face each time she broke you apart and put you back together.

Without even trying you can feel her next to you, whispering her teachings in your ear —touching your scars with calloused hands. Her voice still has that icy hold on you even when you’re far away, keeping you still as she forces you down to kneel on the stone floor and await your punishment.

A punishment you’ll always feel you deserve. Even now that you’ve well and truly denounced the faith. Deep down you still feel the guilt of your exit. The pain of having to carry the trauma of an existence you never had the choice of living. To this day, it still eats away through the scars that line your stomach. Boring lines of betrayal across your skin.

The last thing you want to do is cry, but as the reminder of such abuse continues to penetrate your mind you find the tears falling anyway. Collecting at the edges of your eyes so quickly that you’re forced to close them in order to reset your vision.

As you do you feel Astarion wrapping himself completely around you. Pulling you into his chest with heavy hands that feel nothing like hers. Reminding you that you’re safe. That you’re here with him and nobody else.

“Is this wretched woman still stationed in Baldur’s?”

You feel his fingers on your chin, pulling your face up so that he can see you when you nod, holding back tears.

“Good. Then our destinations align.”

His voice sounds different. Instead of the usual softness or flirtation, it’s spoken through clenched teeth that strain against his throat, somehow feeling almost like a threat. An unspoken but well-articulated phrase of warning that has you sniffing and wiping your eyes. “What do you mean?”

At first, you figure he’s talking about the Illithid. The urgent need to get to Baldur’s Gate before time runs out. But then you’re ripped back to reality —to the moments where he’s briefly mentioned his desire to return home. To finish whatever business he has after this timely journey is over.

“The person who sent the hunter—“

He practically spits out his name. Cazador Szarr. A man you’re unfortunately well aware of given his reputation.

After arriving in Baldur’s Gate it was common knowledge to avoid him and his property. As awful as your church was about promoting the misfortunes of others, they made it very clear not to get involved. According to them, he was an unholy man —one that could never fully be understood due to the obvious seclusion of his person.

To this day, you've always wondered what lies behind those doors of his. What sinister things he was up to throughout the years.

However, when you look at Astarion —when you see the way his rage suddenly seems to know no bounds, you know it’s bad. Worse than bad considering Astarion hardly ever gets angry. Sure, annoyance and frustration often come out but anger —real anger— never does.

“When you told me that you wished I didn’t know what it felt like, I didn’t realize how similar our experiences were.” His fingers rub rough circles into your flesh, distracting his mind as he lets out a breath and continues. “I didn’t know the level of your pain.”

“I didn’t tell you.”

“I know.”

His voice cracks. Your heart breaks. Then, both of you sit in another wave of silence, letting the words previously spoken sit at your feet as you stare at one another, trying to gauge what happens next.

You don’t anticipate his hands moving to his armour. Nor do you retain any sense of restraint when you reach to follow them, both of you working to pry it off before he pulls his tunic over his head.

Despite being on the road together for so long you’ve never seen him bare like this. So open and willing to prove to you that he's here. With you, here’s here and ready to share whatever you think you need.

Embarrassingly, it makes you want to cry all over again, reaching for his face. Feeling that familiar coolness beneath your touch as he turns to rest both hands on your hips again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve willingly wanted this.”

“This?” You look at him confused.

“To be intimate.” His fingers tighten around your flesh, digging into the plush ever so slightly. “To share the act of sex with another rather than exploit it.”

There’s a small smile that creeps through then. An inkling of hope for the vampire’s happiness as you inch in closer, placing the softest kiss you can muster to his cheek. “But you’re nervous?”

“Terribly,” he admits with a heavy breath. “In the span of 200 years I’ve bed countless men and women —all of them willing. All of them happy to have enjoyed my body only to end up at death’s door.”

It’s a lot to take in —the admittance of his faults. As soon as the first detail is uttered it’s as if the floodgates open and he’s telling you everything. From the moment he was turned and forced to crawl from his grave to the years that followed luring person after person into the Szarr home for a master so cruel you immediately wish to kill him.

“I spent so long under that bastard’s thumb that… I don’t even know who I am anymore. How I’m meant to be now that I’ve attained even the slightest bit of freedom.”

You understand how he feels. Perhaps the levels are different but deep within there’s always been this nagging feeling of how you’re supposed to live your life. How you feel as though you should be travelling the world in search of a new purpose rather than once again fulfilling someone else’s.

But then you remember what’s at stake. And how even someone else’s fate can affect your livelihood. Then it’s as if the cycle repeats itself, constantly reminding you that if you don’t participate then that’s the end. Your freedom is null just as Astarion’s, leaving you to wonder what’s the point of it all.

“I think people like you and I are just meant to live.” Your hands move up to touch his hair. Carefully, you grip his curls between your fingers, pressing the pads into his skull as you run them down, hearing him sigh. “To enjoy what little time we have.”

“Little?” He raises his brow with a smirk. “Darling, I’m immortal.”

“True but you could still become a Mind-flayer like the rest of us.”

“Fair point.”

He seems calmer now. The usual persona of his overbearing personality coming through, making you grin.

Instead of tightly wound he’s relaxed under your hold, practically melting against your touch as he lowers himself to rest on your shoulder. As he does, you end up catching a glimpse of his back, fully seeing Cazador’s work in the form of rough, red etchings that coat his entire spine.

You have to force yourself not to ask about them until he’s ready, tightening the hold you have around his head as you riddle his face in kisses, letting your lips linger against his temple as you close your eyes.

“They’re not as bad as they look,” he says then, somehow reading your mind.

As painful as it is to admit, you know he’s right. Compared to other scars you’ve seen his look undeniably perfect. The way they paint the image of what looks to be some sort of sigil against his pale flesh. Despite the violence endured to create such a piece, it’s obvious that there was care put in too. A meticulous hand working away with the precision of someone borderline obsessed.

If it wasn’t the result of abuse you could even call it beautiful. But since it’s not, you only continue to hold him, gripping his face for dear life, wondering what kind of pain he had to suffer to earn such a massive reminder of his ownership.

“Do you know what it is?”

He lifts his head, looking at you like he’s seeking the answer himself. “A brand I’m guessing. Not that I can tell. Unlike you I can’t use a mirror. Nor can I very well reach to trace the damned thing myself.”

Your fingers twitch at his words, feeling the temptation to touch them grow as you remember your own scars. In terms of appearance, they’re much more rigid. Three jagged lines that cover the middle of your stomach, making sure you remember. Ensuring your mind that every day you live on this earth —every new moment spent thinking that you’re worthy of whatever this is between you— that you’ll never be normal.

The moment they dug that first knife into your gut you were marked for life. Branded just like him.

Swallowing hard you force yourself to slip away from his grasp, watching the confusion that erupts before the understanding starts as you shakily discard your leather layer and throw your tunic over your head.

It takes everything in you not to put it back on when you see the look on Astarion’s face. How it studies you with knitted brows and a clenched jaw that makes you want to hold him again.

“Mine are just… lines. They don’t mean anything.” As you motion to the thick slashes that have been carved over countless times you catch his gaze twitching upward, taking in the exhaustion.

“She did this?”

After you nod you feel his hand move forward, ever so gently grazing the top of the centre line with curiosity. “How many times?”

“I don’t remember.”

“But you remember how it felt?”

You press your lips together, breathing through your nose. Sucking in the Inn’s dusty air before blowing it out as you nod, forcing back the memory. Pushing through the pain as your tadpole squirms, asking to let him in.

Like all the other feelings you’ve shared as of late, it’s been so long since you’ve felt his presence like this. Even with the Illithid’s constant use outside of each other, when he calls out to you it’s completely different. The movement behind your eye doesn’t feel like an annoyance. It feels like a call. A tingle of hope that has you answering before you can even question what it is he might want.

When you answer there’s a warmth that hits your skin. Enveloping you completely, you feel the aching of the heat carry through your extremities, cascading down in anxious pools that have you breathing rather hard. Closing your eyes, you see the image of Astarion’s hands in front of you. Slowly he wiggles his fingers and turns his palms, taking in the fact that he’s safely under the sun, despite what he is.

You realize then that this is the first memory he has of freedom. Of a life where he truly believes the tether’s been severed. All the thoughts inside his mind are full of nerves. Building anxieties of the past and the future being interrupted by a present he never thought was possible.

It’s a memory that stirs you to move. To guide his hands to your waist as you crawl into his lap and grab his chin.

Touching his skin you feel that same warmth flow through to your core. Letting it take over all the thoughts of scarring and owners and the lives you’ve both lived to get to this point, it takes away your breath. Pulls from you the needs of anything but him.

In this moment, none of it matters anymore. Every experience is nothing more than a dimming shadow compared to the sensation of his breath wafting over your face as you angle your head down to look at him.

“Do you want this?”

His tongue darts out to line his lips. His hunger growing at the sight of you —at the feeling of you moulded to him like melting wax just cool enough to touch. “Yes.”

“So it’s okay if I—“

There’s a hand in your hair before you can finish, forcing you down to his mouth. It’s rough at first but quickly softens once he’s got you where he wants you. Firmly set atop his thighs and in his grasp. Allowing him enough access to reach up and touch the edge of your neck, his thumb lingering towards the centre to press a soft touch —reminding you that you have to breathe. That the usage of your lungs is no longer second nature but something you actively have to think about through the open-mouthed kisses that work to take it all away.

Your head dizzies at the feeling. All at once your vision blurs while your hands begin to roam, stretching over skin and bone, eventually hitting raised scars that make you kiss him even harder, knowing it’s what he needs. What he deserves after countless years of loveless encounters. After touches, empty of anything resembling the adoration you wish to offer him.

While laying waste to his bruising lips, you clumsily slide down his lap so that you’re standing on the ground, tucked between his open legs and bending forward.

Confused, you feel his face twist against your own, prompting you to pull away and lower yourself further, letting your knees gently come in contact with the floor.

“I was enjoying you where you were,” he muses then, cocking his head to focus on the way your hands begin to slide up over his knees, resting on each outer thigh.

“And now you’ll enjoy me over here.” You smirk.

“Cheeky pup.”

“The cheekiest.”

After that, you shuffle closer and reach for his belt, keeping eye contact every step of the way to make sure you aren’t stepping over any boundaries.

The last thing you’d want is to make him feel uncomfortable —to feel used in all the ways he used to experience. So you combat all that by checking in; offering him subtle glances every time you take the next step.

You can tell immediately that he’s appreciative. Whenever he nods there’s a faint smile that sits across his lips, offering you approval as your fingers knock against the metal clasp of his belt, shakily moving to open it up.

At some point he ends up doing it himself, leaning forward to kiss your forehead and laugh at the nerves that render your fingers useless. Nerves that only spread when you stare up at his face while his hands busily move the strap aside.

After tossing his belt aside he doesn’t let you go further. Instead, he drags you further between his legs, leaning down to cup your cheeks and kiss you all over again.

It’s distracting, to say the least. The feeling of his lips moving in tandem with your own as he reaches around to rid you of your bra with two quick swipes, leaving you just as bare as him.

It sends a shiver down your spine that makes him smirk, his upper lip quirking against yours before he gently bites down making you groan.

“Can’t let you be the only one with a view,” he mutters against you, making you awkwardly laugh as you watch his gaze lower to your naked chest. “Can I, pet?”

“No, I suppose not.”

Your voice sounds anything but confident as his hands continue their descent, matching your previous desires when they linger at your belt, waiting for you to give him the okay.

When you do he makes quick work, unclasping the belt with skillful hands before lightly smacking your ass, signalling you to stand before he carefully slides the rest of it down, thumbing the edges of your legs.

You have to force yourself not to cry out right then and there, feeling overwhelmed by the soft touch of his fingers. How they barely graze the outer parts of your already parting thighs, stopping at your knees when he looks up at you with a smirk.

“You seem nervous, darling.”

Rolling your eyes, you shove an open palm to his chest, pushing him back against the bed with a scoff. One that makes him laugh and watch as you kick off the remainder of the fabric, trying to appear brave. Something that proves to be harder than you anticipate when he swiftly follows suit, giving you a show of your own in the form of freshly exposed skin you’ve only ever imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

In almost an instant, the fabric slips away, revealing more of him than you possibly could’ve expected, making your mind wander as the building arousal between your thighs twitches with desire. Telling you that you need this.

You open your mouth to ask for more only to be yanked upon his lap causing a yelp to fall from your lips that makes you both laugh.

“You really are a marvel, aren’t you?”

With a smile, his eyes scan your naked frame. Up and down and back, they linger at every part as if he’s studying you for future use. Taking mental notes with each passing freckle or scar that lines the length of bare skin. “I mean truly, look at you.”

As he speaks, one hand runs along your neck —over your shoulder and down your arm until it’s resting at your thigh, gripping you tight. “I’m not sure what God out there decided to make you but remind me to give them my utmost thanks after this is over.”

When he leans in you have to force yourself not to nervously laugh at his praise, once again feeling his lips find refuge on your own, driving you to take things further. Encouraging you to make him feel as good as he deserves.

This time though, instead of asking for approval with a glance you do so with a touch, reaching down to grip the end of his length with gentle hands that make him moan. Ever so quietly, the second you hear it you immediately strengthen your hold, using your free hand to grip his shoulder as you work him slowly, noticing him push. Feeling the subtle arc of his hips buck against your hand, wanting more.

For a moment you think about doing it. Letting your hand tighten further while you pick up the pace. It’d be easy. Nothing more than a simple readjustment but something mischievous stops you from doing it.

Remembering that night at the grove —the one where he relentlessly teased just to get a rise out of you— you find yourself smirking and pulling away, gripping his shoulder even tighter to keep him in place.

Almost immediately, he knows exactly what you’re doing. He can feel it in the way you languidly pull at his cock, barely holding on with each stroke.

“You think you’re clever, do you?”

You quirk your brow and bite your lip, massaging the apex of his shoulder. “I have to be if I’m going to be hanging around you.”

Furthering his torment, you then tighten your grip for a couple more pumps before returning to your previous pace, eliciting a hiss of disapproval that has him gripping both your hips and maneuvering you to sit against his right thigh.

“Oh really?”

Pushing up into your core, Astarion shifts you back and forth with his hands, making your breath catch inside your throat once you realize what you’ve done. How you’ve instantly set yourself up for a failure you know he’ll only revel in winning.

Considering he’s more than capable of making you fluster solely with words, you should’ve expected this —saw it coming from a mile away.

Continuing your ministrations as lazily as possible, he barely registers them as he glides your folds against his leg. Holding you down, he manages to apply the perfect amount of pressure to build the tension, making you press your lips tightly together, forcing back any sound that might be deemed a loss.

Even though it’s anything but a competition. A detail that’s reminded once he maneuvers one of his hands to cup your sex, rubbing rough circles into your clit.

It makes you lose all semblance of thought, forgetting the hold you have on his cock as you shakily reach for his other shoulder, steadying yourself against him.

“Doesn’t it feel nice when you give in?”

Despite the context, there’s surprisingly no snark to his words. No sarcasm or bite —just genuine thought. A question so true to its word that all you can do is pant through the building pleasure and nod; letting him raise you off his leg and station himself at your entrance.

It fills your mind to the brim with needs and wants you never thought you’d feel again. Having been subjected to abuse and then forced upon a journey you’re still not sure you’re ready for, the thought of attachments like this never once crossed your mind.

Even after everything you’d been through, you never thought Astarion was capable of such tenderness —of loving care and safekeeping. Of gentle touches that run across your aching skin as he looks at you and you at him, both of you deciding it’s okay.

As soon as it’s given, he’s sliding into you. Painfully slow, he uses the approval to grant you access to your shared pleasure, pushing through the tightness just as you open your mouth.

“Feel alright?”

Your fingers press against his neck as they slide up to cup his chin so you can pull your foreheads together. “More than alright.”

Through an unsteady breath, he laughs and guides you further down, allowing you both to savour the sensation for a moment before pulling back out again.

As soon as he’s missing you’re already longing for more. Desperate for the fill of his cock, prompting a whine to escape; earning yourself a tut.

“Remember patience?”

You do. More than anything in this moment you remember your claim and how foolish it was to think he wouldn’t forget it.

“I recall you saying—"

“Astarion, please.”

You’re not sure if it’s the anguish in your voice or the squirming of your hips that does it, but almost instantly he’s giving in. Once again offering you exactly what you need in the form of a push and pull so viscerally satisfying you’re left slumped against his chest, keeping hold of his neck. Forcing his hand to grip the back of your head to see the way he ruts inside of you.

It’s a sight that’s almost too much. One that makes you moan and close your eyes, allowing him to move your face to his. At which point you’re on the precipice of ruin. Both body and mind becoming a mess of everything and nothing, forcing your breath to falter.

You can tell Astarion’s in the same boat, struggling to maintain his starting pace the longer you mindlessly grind against him, unable to contribute much of anything else.

Together, the two of you try to move in unison, pushing and pushing —inhaling and exhaling. Anything you can do to share the burden of the building pleasure that grows and grows until—

When it hits, it feels better than you imagined. Deep within there’s a blooming that unfolds, petal by petal, opening to reveal unholy tremors that make you release a heavy plume of air through your closed lips.

Gripping you close, you can feel Astarion follow quickly behind, twitching inside before he inevitably spills out, making both of you groan and fall back onto the bed in a fit of nervous laughter before he cheekily suggests you make use of the tub.

TAGLIST: @poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi

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#where's your patience?#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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joedirtymadre · 2 months

Note

How bout an angst and fluffy Luffy x reader? Like, he's trying his best to be a good boyfriend but he doesn't know exactly how do it. So he gets insecure and afraid of reader leaving him

The Painting

LUFFY X READER! ANGST + FLUFF! (STILL ACCEPTING REQUESTS! SEND EM RN! 😤😤)

You were peacefully working on a new painting. You had a strong passion for art, but recently you have decided to pick up painting again. Plus, today is a slow day on the ship, so why not? You hummed to yourself, as you continued to add the finishing touches to your work. “Wow, you really outdid yourself this time,” you smiled to yourself as you took a moment to look at your canvas. It was a portrait of the whole crew, you wanted to surprise everyone at dinner with it. You spent the last few weeks on it too, so I’m sure that they’ve been waiting for the reveal.

You then heard your door open and saw Luffy. “Hey Luffy,” you smiled. “Hi (Y/N)! Hey can I hide here? I’m playing hide and seek with Usopp and Chopper,” he explained as he ran over and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure, but please don’t tip over my supplies. Last time you made a mess I spent 2 weeks cleaning it up,” you sighed. “I promise!” He said as he quickly jumped into your supply closet.

You continued your artwork, until you were disrupted again. You heard a small knock on the door and soon Chopper opened the door. “Hi Chopper, what brings you here?” You asked. “Hi (Y/N)! Have you seen Luffy?” He asked. “Hmmm… I haven’t sorry,” you smiled. “Hmmm… well can I look around your office? Just in case,” he said. “Go ahead,” you said as you continued painting.

Chopper checked under the table, in your art boxes, and was now heading to your closet. You lightly giggled as you knew your boyfriend was about to get caught. Chopper quickly opened the closet door, and out jumped Luffy. He began running around the small office, “Hey Luffy, this isn’t tag!” Chopper shouted as he chased him. “Now it is!” He yelled, as they circled around you. “Luffy be care-“ you were cut off by Luffy running into you. You fell straight into your paint, easel, and most importantly your painting.

The two boys quickly stopped and stared as you slowly picked yourself up and stared at the destroyed painting. Smudged and ripped, even your easel broke. “(Y-Y/N) I-“ you ran out before you could hear another word from your stupid boyfriend.

Luffy’s POV

I watched as (Y/N) ran off, I tried to chase after her but Chopper blocked me. “Wait! I think she should be alone right now Luffy, she might say something she doesn’t mean because of how she’s feeling. So, just give her some space,” he explained. “But I have to tell her I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to play,” I explained. “I know, but we messed up. Really bad, and she needs time to herself right now,” Chopper said. I grabbed my head in frustration.

I looked over to the destroyed painting and realized it was a painting of all of us. “This is what she’s been working on for weeks,” I said softly. “Oh no, and we ruined it!” Chopper cried. “No, I ruined it. I always ruin things for her,” I said as I picked up the painting. “That’s not true, she loves you Luffy,” Chopper said. I shook my head, “She deals with me, I keep doing dumb things and it always ends with me hurting her or breaking her stuff,” I sighed as I placed the canvas on her table.

“It’s ok Luffy, if she didn’t love you she wouldn’t be with you. Right?” Chopper asked. “I guess,” I said. “I’m gonna go check on her,” Chopper said before running out of the room. I sat on her stool and stared at the mess I made. “Why do I keep messing things up? Maybe… I should leave her alone, then she wouldn’t have to deal with me. She could tell me to leave her alone if we weren’t dating, like Nami,” I said to myself.

I dragged myself to the deck and straight to my spot, to try and think. “Hey Luffy,” Nami said as she sat on her beach chair. “Hey…” I said softly as I continued to drag myself. “What’s wrong? Did (Y/N) kick you out of her art room?” She laughed. “No,” I moped. “Woah, then what’s wrong? Here come take a seat,” she said as she pointed to the other beach chair.

I told her the whole story and ended up with 4 bumps on my head. “You idiot! How could you do that to her?” Nami frowned. “I know… Nami… has she ever talked about how much I mess up around her?” I asked. “(Y/N)? No, not really. She just tells me how fun and cute you are,” she explained. “Really? Even that time I broke her clay pot?” I asked. “Oh man, she was so mad that day, but no… Now that I think about it she didn’t talk bad about you,” Nami said. “What about the time I accidentally squeezed her paint tube too hard and it got all over her face?” I asked. “Nope, nothing,” she said. “Or when I dropped-“ I was cut off.

“Ok I get it, you’ve done a lot of bad things. But she’s never talked bad about you, I think she knows that mistakes happen… especially around you,” Nami pointed out. “But I really messed up this time, what if she wants to break up. She should break up with me… I keep making her mad or sad,” I sighed as I fell back into the chair. “Or… you could make it up to her. Come on captain, you’ve fought warlords and admirals. I’m sure you can fix this problem and make your girlfriend a little less mad at you,” she said. “You’re right! I can try and fix it!” I said excitedly. “But I’m gonna need help,” I said, determined.

Your POV

You’ve been in bed for the last 6 hours. Chopper and Nami checked up on you, but you had no strength to get up. You just need some time to calm down. Suddenly a knock on your door, you didn’t respond, hoping the person on the other side would think you’re asleep. However, the door slowly opened. You saw your idiot captain peek inside, “(Y/N)?” He called out.

“Go away Luffy, I don’t feel good right now,” you said as you turned around, showing your back to him. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, really sorry… I know you’re really mad at me, but I wanted to make it up to you,” he said as he stepped close. “How?” You asked. “Can I show you?” He asked, placing a hand on your shoulder. You slowly turned around, seeing a distressed look on your usually careless boyfriend. “Sure,” you said calmly before getting up.

“But I need you to wear this,” he said, handing you a blindfold. You stared at it with one eyebrow raised. “Please?” He asked. You nodded and quickly put it over your eyes, you then felt a warm hand grab yours. “Alright hold on,” you heard, before being picked up in bridal style. “L-Luffy?” You asked, feeling your face heat up. “Well, I don’t want you to trip while being blindfolded, so I’ll just carry you,” he explained.

You then laid in his arms as he carried you to wherever it was that he wanted to show you. “Alright, I’m gonna put you down now,” he said softly before helping you down onto your feet. “Alright now on 3, take off your blindfold,” he said as he stepped away from you. “Ok,” you said.

“1,2,3,” he said, and you quickly took off the blindfold. You gasped at the scene in front of you. It was your art room, clean and way more organized than it was before. Also, your easel was fixed with a bunch of more upgrades to it, and finally your eyes fell to the painting on the easel. “My painting!” You said excitedly. You smiled as you saw the rough strokes and the taped backing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was way better than how it looked earlier.

“Did you do all of this?” You turned to ask Luffy. “I had some help, but I wanted to fix what I messed up earlier,” he explained. You ran over and gave him a kiss, “Thank you Luffy! I’m so happy,” you smiled and hugged him. “You’re not still mad?” He asked nervously. “Mad?” You asked, confused. “Well… I always mess up your crafts or art projects, I know how upset it makes you,” he said as he stared at the floor. “Well I do get a bit upset, but I know you don’t mean it. I just give myself some time alone so I don’t say anything that I might regret later,” you explained. “Wow, Chopper was right,” he said.

“But I’m really sorry I messed up your painting, I know how hard you worked on it,” he said, before pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, I forgive you. Just next time, no more games in my art room, ok?” You asked. “Deal,” he smiled. “Oh, I made you something,” he said, pulling away. “Huh?” You asked. He grabbed a small canvas from the table and turned to show you.

You pouted when you realized it was a portrait of you and him. “I know it’s not that good, but-“ you interrupted him. “It’s perfect! I’ll hang it up right now!” You said as you pulled him into a hug. “Really?” He said excitedly. “Yeah, and we should paint together sometime, you’re a natural,” you smiled, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You think so? I did have fun doing this,” he grinned. “Mhmm!” You nodded and you both went to hang his masterpiece on your wall.

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sunflower-lilac42 · 6 months

Text

✧ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 | the hughes brothers ♔

summary: y/n hughes hasn't seen her family in two and a half years. so when all three of her brothers play each other she wanted to come home

warnings: crappy writing

notes: in honor of tonight, i figured i would finally post this

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

“Hi everyone, my name is y/n, and welcome to my channel if you are new here or welcome back! Today is a very special day, well December 5 is a special day but when you are seeing this it has already passed. Anyways, as most of you know I have been studying abroad in Italy for the past two and a half years and I haven’t seen my family.”

Y/n took a breath, a grin making its way onto her face, “And if you don’t know, my brothers are Quinn, Jack, and Luke Hughes, all professional hockey players. Luke is a ‘rookie’ this season, he played briefly at the end of the 22-23 season for the Devils and I have missed one thing after another for him which makes me feel horrible.

“Moving on, I have divided to come home for once and for all for another day for the history books. The first ever (with Luke included), Hughes v. Hughes game. Devils at Canucks. New Jersey at Vancouver. Jack and Luke versus Quinn, you get the point. And the best thing of all is that I am surprising them. It is currently December 2, at 8:30 and I am heading to the airport. I get in around 2 in New York so plenty of time to rest up before heading to Vancouver! I will see you all later.”

There had been something, or rather someone, missing from the Hughes family in the two and a half years. After choosing to study abroad, y/n finally decided to come. She felt like she had finally completed a new journey in her life and was ready to come back to life in the US.

As much as she loved studying in Italy and visiting various countries with her friends, her chest always had a nagging feeling. She hadn’t seen her family, her brothers, anywhere near two years straight. She missed her family, she missed her brothers.

And the same could be said about the three Hughes boys. She had missed the biggest milestones in her youngest brother’s career so far. She missed him getting drafted, making his NHL debut, and getting his first NHL goal. She missed Jack’s (and the Devils’) record-breaking season, she even missed being there when Quinn was announced Captain for the 23-24 Season.

She felt horrible about it and as much as the boys tried to say it was okay, they weren’t okay with it. They wanted their sister to go out and do what she wanted, but not having their older sister on these days, was heartbreaking for them. And she wasn’t about to do it again.

Arriving in New York gave y/n a funny feeling. She hadn’t seen anyone she was close to in a long time and she hadn’t been around this many Americans in a long time. It was a weird nostalgic feeling and she was somewhat glad to be in New York despite many of its native people.

She ended up staying with her friend for the next day waiting for her flight to Vancouver. They went and explored, well y/n explored, the city she hadn’t been in in years, It was a nice feeling being here, but nervewracking all at the same time. She was worried about what her brothers would think, and how they would react. Would they be mad at her? Would they be happy? She had no way of telling.

“As you have seen I have arrived in New York. Seeing so many Americans is fucking crazy. I don’t know how I survived a week let alone two years overseas. So I am here until tomorrow night which is when my flight to Vancouver is and then we’ll go from there. I think y/f/n and I are going to go sightseeing, there is a lot I want to do being back in New York, for example, pizza.”

yourusername

The next day she flew to Vancouver, vlogging the whole time. She and her friend had a good time in New York and so she was excited to hang out with another one of her friends in Vancouver. The two hung out the whole day, attempting to keep her mind off of it for a bit longer. And when the next day came, she was even more nervous. They had a plan to surprise them right before they did the National Anthem and they even managed to have their parents come down on the ice as well.

yourusername

“I am now in Vancouver and we are here at Rogers Arena. I’m about to go in and get the exact rundown of how tonight is happening and yeah. Everything seems like it’s moving too fast. I am, of course, wearing my Luke Hughes Jersey and my canucks beanie. And someone asked me who I wanted to win and I said Cancuks because I’m a diehard Canucks fan. It’s not because I like Quinn more, I promise, but I do like to tell people I root for him because he has a disadvantage.”

Y/n stood inside the arena in the tunnel trying to hide herself as much as possible as she waited for the announcer's cue. She could somewhat make out her parents in the box and her brothers on the ice but there wasn’t much past that. It seemed like everything blurred outside her family members.

“Now as we know it is the first-ever NHL Hughes vs. Hughes game and we couldn’t help but notice someone was missing.”

That was the boys' first clue and cue for y/n. As Jack and Luke exchanged looks with their brother, their parents also stood confused, none of them connecting the dots yet. That was until the next announcement.

“Over the past two and a half years, the eldest Hughes sibling has been studying abroad in Europe, devoting her studies to (whatever you want).”

That was when Ellen and Jim connected the dots and partially Quinn as well. Poor Jack and Luke still stood confused out of their minds as they looked between their older brother and their parents.

“After regretting so many milestones in her brothers’ careers, she couldn’t afford to miss one more. Please join me in welcoming back to the US from her studies, Y/n Hughes.” Y/n finally pulled out of the trance she had been in when they announced her name and she stepped out onto the rink.

The whole arena was going crazy at just the mention of another Hughes. Before she even took two steps onto the nice, Luke was practically on top of her. No one had ever seen him skate that fast and truthfully a bunch of people thought he was going to knock his sister right on her ass.

“Hi Lukey.”

Luke didn’t want to let go, holding his sister, “Hi.”

Y/n’s heart broke at her youngest brother. She couldn’t look at Quinn and Jack, afraid they were looking at her with judgment in their eyes, so she just hugged Luke until he let go. And when he did, y/n was brought into another bone-crushing hug from Jack.

Quinn stood off to the side, letting his brothers have a moment with their sister. It took a toll on Quinn, y/n leaving. He had to step up and be the role model for the two. No one had thought about how her leaving would affect him. Y/n was the one Quinn went to for everything. Math homework? He knocked on y/n’s door down the hallway. Girl problems? Y/n’s contact name shone on his phone. That feeling of not being good enough? Y/n was already halfway to wherever he was. When she left, all he had was limited texts and calls.

Jack’s hug was arguably the shortest out of the three. It’s not that he didn’t miss her, he knew how much Quinn needed that hug, and partially because he was now anxious to play, he had to get his ‘zoomies’ out. Quinn hugged the girl gently at first but once y/n whispered it was okay, his arms tightened and a few tears spilled from his eyes.

“It’s okay, Quinny. I’m here, I’m back.”

Y/n and her brothers parted ways and she went back with her parents to where they were sitting and sat in between the two. They watched the game with laser focus, y/n cheering for both teams but more importantly the three Hughes’ on the ice.

When the game was over, she waited down by the locker rooms for the three of them. Some of their teammates, the ones who knew who she was, all said their hellos as they walked out of the arena. The three brothers came walking out together and immediately all broke out into runs, racing towards their sister.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You better believe it, Jacky, because I am not leaving any time soon.” She pulls away and Jack smiles, “You’re not leaving ever again.”

She laughs and the three walk away, fighting for who she rode with on the way to dinner.

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 6 months

Text

Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1

RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.

(Y/N) - Your name.

NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.

That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.

You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).

One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.

“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.

“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”

—

“Please!”

Stab.

“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”

Stab.

“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”

The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.

“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.

“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.

“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.

“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.

For now.

Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.

“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”

How fucking dare he.

How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.

For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.

He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?

They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.

Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.

“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”

Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.

“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.

“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.

“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.

Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.

—

Something was off.

Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.

Your phone started to ring.

Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

No answer.

You left out a huff and tried again.

“Hellooo?”

When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.

“I think you got the wrong numb-“

“Wanna play a game?”

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“I said, wanna play a game?”

“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”

“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.

“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.

“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”

Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.

“Warmer.”

Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.

“Colder.”

You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.

“Hotter.”

You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.

“Hotter.”

You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.

“You're on fucking fire baby.”

Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.

“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.

You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.

“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.

“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.

You black out.

—

“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.

“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.

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upat4amwiththemoon · 17 days

Note

hii i love your writing especially the wandnat fics 😭 can i request a pt. 3 or just something with “the blip” universe where r wakes up after spending the night at her moms and when she doesn’t find them in their room she starts panicking and it takes her back to when they blipped (but they find her and help her thru it)

The blip | 3

Summary: Broken families take time to heal.

Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: some angst, panic attack-ish

Word count: 1283

a/n: I added some things, hope you don’t mind! I think I’m going to make a 4th part too🫢

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Previous parts: part 1, part 2

The little while Y/N was supposed to stay with her moms turned into a week, then two more, a month, and another one. However, Wanda and Natasha have not minded it at all, they’re over the moon to spend more time with their daughter.

They don’t live at their old apartment anymore, having decided it’d be too overwhelming for Y/N to go back there. Instead, they live in a house further away from the city and the noise. It has three bedrooms, one for guests, one for Wanda and Natasha, and one for Y/N.

It’s perfect for the three of them.

Of course, Natasha and Wanda aren’t pressuring Y/N into moving in with them permanently, which is why she is still paying rent on her crappy apartment, but their hope is high.

Y/N paces around in the living room, wearing her best clothes, which weren’t that good with her minimal income as she refused to let her mothers use too much money on her.

“She’ll be here soon.” Wanda sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, giving her a comforting smile. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I know, I just-“ she takes a breath, “I haven’t seen her since that day.”

Natasha steps inside the room. “She won’t blame you for that. She’ll understand why.”

Staying quiet, Y/N stares out of the window, waiting for a car to drive into their road. Her hands are shaking, so she keeps playing with the rings on her fingers. Wanda keeps staring at the rings with a small smile, happy to see her daughter wearing her old rings, but missing the times she used to play with her hands when nervous.

A black car with tinted windows drives to the front of the house. Kat’s breath hitches, seemingly unable to move before Natasha gives her a small nudge. “Go on.”

Y/N walks to the porch and down the few stairs on it, her moms behind her. Maria is standing by her car. “Hey, bug.” She has a smile on her face, but she looks afraid. Y/N is pretty sure she has never seen Maria afraid.

“Hi, aunt Maria.”

With that, Maria, who brides her ability to keep her emotions in check, starts crying.

Y/N’s eyes widen. It takes her a moment to react, but when she does so, she walks straight to Maria and hugs her. Her arms wrap around Maria’s neck, while the woman’s arms go around Y/N’s waist tightly.

They stare for a moment, both crying, before Maria pulls slightly away to wipe away the tears. “I’m so sorry, I really am.” She sniffles, moving her hands on Y/N’s cheeks to lift her head up to face her. “I’m sorry I left you alone in there.”

Y/N shakes her head, her lower lip quivering at her honorary aunt’s words. “It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

Maria smiles, appreciating the words though she doesn’t fully believe them. One of her hands moves to the side of Y/N’s head, petting her hair softly. “You’re so grown now. You’re not fourteen anymore.”

“I’m not fourteen anymore.”

“You don’t need your aunt to guide you anymore.” Her voice is soft, but it has bitterness in it. She’s angry at the world, and herself, for missing out on the rest of Y/N’s teenage years.

“I do.” Her words are quick. “I need you, just like I still need my moms.” The last words come out quieter than the rest, just so Wanda and Natasha can’t hear her. It was always easier to reveal certain things to Maria rather than her moms.

Maria glances at the two other women patiently waiting for them by the porch. She gives them a smile. “Let’s go inside, yeah? we have all the tome in the world now.” Her hand rests on Y/N’s shoulders as she starts leading her towards the house.

Maria stayed in the Maximoff-Romanoff household until four in the morning. They spent all the hours catching up, though Y/N wasn’t too keen on talking about her life alone too much, but she shared the important details.

The clock strikes 12:30 when Y/N finally manages to wake up, still tired from staying up so late. It takes her 20 minutes to actually get out of bed.

She stands up, stretching her whole body and yawning, which causes her to get a short dizzy spell. With tired movements, she walks into the empty kitchen.

Y/N frowns, usually her moms are already up and making breakfast at this time. Her heart gets a heavy feeling, but she pushes it away, making her way to the main bedroom. She knocks on the door. When there’s no answer, she knocks again, harder this time.

“Mom? Mama?” She’s not afraid to call Wanda mama anymore.

Once again, no answer.

Her breathing picks up. This isn’t the blip, this isn’t the blip. She says the sentence over and over in her mind, but it’s getting swallowed by her panic. She opens the door and steps inside the empty bedroom, her dread growing by the second.

“Mom!” Y/N starts walking in and out of all the room, checking every possible nook and cranny. “Mama!” She quickly makes her way to the living room. Her shaky hands grab the remote control and turn on the television. The channels change quickly as she searches for the news channel.

Before she can fully try to listen to the news anchor, the front door opens. Her moms walking in, both of them holding grocery bags.

“Where were you?” Y/N shaky words make the two women set the bags down, frowns on their faces as they see the disheveled state their daughter is in. “I- I thought you were gone again. Why would you leave like that? You can’t just-“ the words are coming out quickly.

“Hey, hey,” Wanda sits on the couch, pulling Y/N right next to her, “we’re here and we’re okay.”

Natasha walks into the kitchen, picking up a note they wrote from the floor. It was taped to the fridge so Y/N would see the written We’re grocery shopping, will be back soon! easily. “I’m sorry, kрошка.” She sets the paper on the counter before joining the two on the couch. “The note fell.”

Y/N sniffles, trying to keep her sobs at bay while she fully leans into her mothers’ embrace. “I thought you left me again.”

“No, no.” Natasha and Wanda sandwich Y/N in their embrace. “We will never ever leave you again, and I know-“ Natasha continues talking before Y/N can say anything, “I know it’s hard to keep that promise, and it’ll take you time to fully trust us again. That’s okay. You just have to know, that we’ll do everything in our power to keep you and us safe.”

Y/N sniffles, her head in the crook of Wanda’s neck and her hand holding onto Natasha’s hand tightly. “Okay,” her voice is quiet as a whisper, “you won’t leave without telling again?”

“No, baby.” Wanda kisses the top of her head, keeping her face there, taking comfort in her scent even though it’s not as familiar. “We won’t leave without making sure you know exactly where we are.”

Y/N nods. She pulls away and rubs her eyes, clearing them from the tears. “What’d you get from the store?” She changes the subject, feeling slightly embarrassed of her panicked state.

Her moms make no comment of it, they go right into telling Y/N about their plan of the day to cook and bake together.

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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months

Note

I already submitted a request, so I don't know if I can do it again. If not, then sorry, and ignore my message.

You wrote that we can request something of our own. How about any of these options?

1.Gojo loves his wife very much. And when the Elders send her 24/7 without rest on dangerous missions. Gojo becomes very angry with the elders.

2.Gojo again boasts to the reader that he is the strongest. But she answers him that he does not have to be the strongest with her, he can just be Satoru.

I just had to write that first idea down, thank you so much <3 Hope you enjoy!

A word of power

Pairing: husband!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,8k

Synopsis: When his wife is sent to missions over and over until it visibly gets to her, Gojo decides to do something against it.

Warnings: lanugage, mentions of injury, not proofread

„Hey darling.“

Your heavy footsteps echo through the dark hallways of your apartment, eyelids hanging heavy in your face. That was a rough mission. The how many? You lost count at 20. It seems like all you do is exorcise, eat, sleep a few hours and repeat everything. You loved being a jujutsu sorcerer by heart, it is a great honor for you to be able to help people this way. But nights like this, when you don’t get to enjoy the warmth of your own home until well after midnight, it really gets to you.

“There you are honey, what took you so long?”

But no matter how rough the mission was, no matter how late you come back, this one person is always there to greet you with a cup of hot tea and a shoulder to cry on. After all, your husband knows well enough how it feels to carry the burden of being a strong jujutsu sorcerer. With the slight difference that he is in fact the strongest.

“Oh, y’know…Things got a little heated, had some new students by my side to watch. One of them got injured so I stayed with him and Shoko until he was well enough to survive the night. Tomorrow I’ll have to leave pretty early in the morning”, you explain briefly, barely able to formulate a straight sentence.

Satoru’s eyes scan over your bruised and feeble looking body. How many missions in a row do you have to endure until these old farts decide to give you a break? You are an outstanding jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than anyone else at Jujutsu High apart from himself. And you have a heart of gold – too good for these people. They use you and you don’t seem to mind as long as you help the weaker and your students out. Normally Gojo admires you for composure, endurance and strength. But haven’t you given enough? Even the strongest need rest from time to time.

“I don’t like the way they are treating you. You are pushed from mission to mission, (y/n). This can’t go on like this, I haven’t really seen you for days. You’re only home to sleep and eat something from time to time.”

You let yourself fall in his lap, instantly greeted by his strong arms. Oh, it feels so good to be back where you belong – in the embrace of your beloved husband.

“You know it yourself: the worst part about being strong is that no one ever asks if you’re okay”, you sign.

He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead, but his body tenses under you. Satoru already told you multiple times that it can’t go on like this. And even though you secretly agree with him, you see no other way. The people need you, as well as your students. Maybe it just isn’t part of the job to have many breaks.

“But I do. And I care about my wife’s wellbeing more than about Jujutsu High itself. I will talk to them. I can’t watch anymore.”

“Satoru.”

Your tired eyes lock with his. You had this talk over and over. Even though you really appreciate his concern, you don’t want him to use the power he has for you.

“You know what I think about that, please don’t.”

“But baby, I really miss you! You lost a fair amount of weight, you sleep maybe 8 hours a week and are constantly worn out. It can’t go on like this. I know that this isn’t a job but your passion and that you refuse to let anyone down, but at the moment, you neglect yourself the most. You need to be your own priority. And if you don’t want to stand up for yourself, be sure that I will. Because I love you with all my heart and I promised to be there for you.”

You really don’t deserve him. Satoru looks after you like no other, his six eyes always set upon you. How can a woman be so lucky and call him her wife? To be honest, you still have no clue why he chose you. Was is because you are strong? Or because you’re smart? Maybe it was for your looks, but there are tons of beautiful women on this earth. You hug him a little tighter.

“I love you, Satoru”, you breathe out, small smile hanging on your lips while your mind slowly drifts away.

Sleep. Sleep sounds good at the moment. Maybe you can rest your eyes for a few seconds…

“(y/n), are you still with me?”

No reaction. The air is only filled by your soft and monotone breathing. He smiles at you tenderly, hands wrapped around your knees and back in order to carry you into the bedroom where you belong. He knows you hate it when he stands up for you, stating that he shouldn’t use the power he holds as the strongest to send you into vacation. Although being married to him, you want to stay independent in your job. Oh, what a great catch you are. But this can’t go on like this.

He lays your passed out body gently on the bed and tucks you in, thumb gently caressing your cheek. How is it possible that even after 2 years of marriage, he still admires your beauty like on the first day he met you at Jujutsu High? No matter how tired and worn out you are, no matter that your body is marked by your work. You must be the most beautiful woman in this world – externally and internally.

Satoru’s hands ball into fists. And that is exactly why he has to do something against this madness. You might be tender, sacrificing selfless, but he is certainly not when it comes to you. They won’t get away with this.

_____________________________________________________________

“Don’t do anything stupid, darling”, you warn him, eyes still glistering from lack of sleep.

You know that look on his face all too well. It doesn’t sit right with him that you leave, especially this early. But you have no other choice. These people need you, as well as your students. When you became a jujutsu sorcerer, you knew it would be hard work and that you have to put your own needs on the back burner. Oh, how much you’d love to spend a day with your husband at Jujutsu High, finally teaching the young how to use their abilities again.

But this is your destiny now. And if you can make your contribution with that, you will simply endure it.

“Don’t know when I’ll come home. I text you when it’s over. Love you”, you place a small kiss on his cheek and take in his scent one last time before you leave again.

Satoru puts on his uniform and makes his way to Jujutsu High. Fuck your determination and prohibitions. He doesn’t care about those anyway. The only thing that’s important to him at the moment is your well-being.

“You’ve got some nerve”, he starts, bursting into the room where Yoshinobu Gakuganji, Masamichi Yaga and some other old farts are gathered on the floor, gazing at him with nothing but annoyance in their eyes.

“You can’t just barge in here like that”, Gakuganji comments.

“I really don’t give a fuck. How is it that my wife has been sent on missions without a break for months? Find someone else to do your dirty work”, Satoru hisses, face visibly irritated even though he’s wearing his blindfold.

“She never complained though. You know yourself that jujutsu sorcerers don’t grow like grass in a meadow. She’s efficient, sturdy and straightforward. She’s old enough to take care of her own, Satoru”, Yaga replies dryly.

Is this for real? Again, Satoru’s hands ball into fists, whole body on fire. Are they actually listening to themselves?

“Yeah, she never complained because she literally never does, boneheads. That was her last mission for time being, otherwise I’ll torch the whole place here. Never forget that it’s my wife we’re talking about.”

“You would never do that”, Utahime remarks.

“Don’t. Test. Me.”

“This is my last warning. Put her back as a teacher, which is actually her main job in this rat hole. If something like that happens again, I’ll make your life living hell. Mark my words.”

And with that, Gojo storms out of the room, leaving everyone in awe. They have never seen him this serious and angry. Maybe you really do need a break.

“I have to say…(y/n) worked her ass off over the last few weeks, more than any other jujutsu sorcerer…”, Gakuganji throws into the room.

“You can’t imagine what happened!”, you yell through the whole apartment, a smile creeping up Satoru’s face.

“I bet you’ll tell my in just a second”, he replies.

“I’ve got some time off, no mission in sight! And I will get to finally teach again. God, I really miss the students”, you groan, letting yourself fall into Satoru’s arms.

“What a lucky coincidence. They must have finally realized that you are working yourself up.”

“Don’t fool me, I know exactly that you have something to do with this. Even though I told you not to.”

“(y/n), I would never do that! As a good husband, I would never in a million years even think about doing something you told me not to do!”, he dramatically announces.

“You threatened them, didn’t you?”

“Well, y’know. I told them a few things”, he admits with a sly smile

You want to be mad at him for disregarding you, but you simply can’t. Deep within, you are way too relieved over a good amount of sleep that you can even think about lashing out on him for helping you.

“Please tell me you weren’t mean.”

You wrap your arms around his large frame and kiss him passionately. God, how much you missed this. Finally you are able to enjoy time with your husband again, to wake up next to him in the morning and snuggle up to him, no following mission lingering through your mind. Only now you realize how tired and worn out you actually are. If it wasn’t for Satoru you’d probably break down rather sooner than later. Maybe you really need to stand up for yourself more…

“Oh, I was. But I don’t want to think about these old farts right now. Let’s go to bed instead.”

“Nothing better than that”, you mumble against his chest while sleep consumes you all over again.

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rashoumon-homo · 4 months

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No Such Tastes In Men pt.2 (Dazai x Reader)

Dazai x Male Reader, NSFW

-> Content Warnings: oral (m!reader receiving), dom/sub undertones, dom!reader

-> 1.4k words

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

<- Previous Part

Author Note: This accidentally ended up being twice the length of the first one, oops

You expected that sucking Dazai off in an alleyway would make things weird between the two of you. You’d mentally prepared yourself for him to avoid you, but the next day things are… normal. Whenever you spot him on your usual spy routes, he looks fine; well-adjusted. Not at all like someone who’s in the midst of a sexuality crisis.

Maybe he really is straight after all.

After a week of uncomfortable normalcy, you’re beginning to wonder if you imagined the whole thing. Not only has Dazai not mentioned the incident at all, he gives every impression it’s not even on his mind. Your weekly one-on-one update meeting with him is in an hour and somehow you’re the one who’s nervous.

You’re too anxious to drink your usual coffee beforehand, so you decide to head to the meeting location early instead. This time it’s at an abandoned warehouse you haven’t been to before, so it’ll be good to scope out the spot anyway.

When you arrive, a whole 45 minutes early, you’re surprised to see Dazai sitting on a crate reading that book he carries everywhere with him.

When he hears you coming, he glances up, looking a little surprised. “You’re early.”

“So are you,” you say defensively.

He hops down from the crate and dusts himself off. “The mission I was on ended early and I had time to kill, so I thought I might as well wait here,” he explains, even though you didn’t ask. “Are you okay? You seem nervous.”

“M’not,” you insist, sidestepping him when he inches closer.

“You don’t need to be,” he presses further. “I don’t want things between us to be weird just because you sucked my dick once.”

Your heart skips a beat. “So you do remember it!”

Dazai flashes one of his flirty smiles at you. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it.” He leans back against the crates, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His gaze is on the rafters above, rather than your face as he continues. “I’d heard the myth that men give better blow jobs, since they’re more familiar with the equipment so to speak, but I admit I was surprised to find that it’s true. And when I think back on that night, I’m not just thinking about the feel of a mouth around me - I’m thinking about everything. Your hands on my thighs, the feeling of my fingers running through your hair… it’s YOUR mouth I’m turned on by.” Dazai rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration. “And I guess by extension, it’s you.”

His cheeks are pink when he fixes his gaze on you again. You’re playing with your hands nervously, running the pad of your thumb over your bitten nail beds. You feel like a deer in the headlights with him looking at you so intensely. There’s no doubt in your mind he can see your anxiety written on your face.

“So I decided,” he says, more softly, “I want to do it to you too.”

You gape at him. “Me?” you ask. “You want to… suck my dick?”

“Yeah,” he says casually. “Maybe I have more of a taste for it than I originally thought. And besides, I feel like I should pay you back somehow for all the orgasms you’ve given me.”

“Orgasms, plural?” you ask. You feel like your knees are gonna give out so you sit on one of the crates nearby.

Dazai smirks. “The one in the alley, and all the times I’ve jerked off to the memory of it.”

He moves to stand in front of you, slotting himself between your legs. He fiddles with the shoulder of your shirt and asks, “So, can I?”

You grip his forearms and gently push him to his knees in response. He looks up at you with those adorably eager eyes, obediently waiting for instructions.

“Ever given a blow job before?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m a quick learner,” he offers.

You don’t doubt it. Your fingers trace along his jaw, pushing gently at his lower lip. “Open for me,” you say, pressing against the seam of his lips. He does, allowing you to slip your thumb inside. You feel along the ridges of his teeth, mapping out the inside of his mouth by touch. When you press lightly against his tongue, he pushes back against you.

“So good,” you murmur. You remove your thumb and replace it with your index and middle finger. You press along his tongue, further to the back of his mouth, until you hit his gag reflex and he makes a choking sound.

“You okay?” you ask, quickly taking out your fingers.

“I want the real thing,” Dazai whines when he recovers. “Stop teasing me!”

A brat, hmm? you think to yourself. You’ll be nice to him today, but if this arrangement continues, you’ll have fun breaking him.

“Take it out then,” you say, leaning back.

Dazai eagerly unbuttons your pants and takes your cock in his hand. He looks like he’s about to just go at it, but you stop him.

“Don’t try to deepthroat, okay?” you warn. “That’s too much for your first time. I want you to take your time learning how to use your tongue and your hand to make me feel good. I’ll give you tips here and there but for the most part you should be able to tell what’s working from my reactions. Got it?”

He nods. “Good boy,” you say quietly.

Dazai looks at the cock in his hand for a minute, running his thumb along the veins before gently stroking it. He tests out a couple different speeds, settling with a slow, firm pace when he notices how it makes your breathing go shallow. A bead of precum wells at the tip, which, after a second of hesitation, he laps up.

You laugh at the way he tries to hide his grossed-out expression. “Cum tastes better,” you assure him.

He licks your cockhead again, and this time takes it into his mouth. His eyes are trained on you as he runs his tongue over it. Your hips stutter when his tongue flicks over the slit. He sinks a little lower, but his hand has stilled completely.

“Try using them at the same time,” you groan, tapping on the back of his hand to remind him it’s still wrapped around your shaft.

Dazai resumes pumping you, now pairing it with little licks and bobs of his head. You groan, hand moving to stroke the back of his head.

“That’s it, just like that,” you sigh. “Think you can take me a little deeper?”

Dazai can’t nod, but he increases how much he takes into his mouth on the next bob. You know you’re probably right against his gag reflex now, so you’re careful not to push his head.

“Fuck, Dazai,” you moan. “Your mouth… so fucking good…”

You can see him palming himself through his pants out of the corner of your eye. He lets out a little whimper at your praise, and the vibration feels incredible.

“Ngh, gonna come soon,” you warn him. “Pull off… if you want… or you can keep going.”

Dazai doesn’t change his motions, and within a few seconds you’re spilling into his mouth. “Dazai…” you moan, abs clenching hard.

When the orgasm fades out, you carefully drag your softening cock out of his mouth. His mouth is still full of your cum, like he’s not sure what to do with it.

“You can swallow or spit, I won’t be offended,” you say quickly.

He thinks about it for a second, then spits it on the ground beside him. There’s a thoughtful look in his eye as he runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth, tasting you.

“It’s not bad,” he says finally.

You tuck yourself back into your pants. “You’re right that you’re a quick learner. That was pretty good.”

“Eh, it was just my first try. I know I’ll get better with practice.” A playful look makes its way across his face. “Wanna be my tutor?”

“More than anything,” you say with a smile. You raise an eyebrow. “Does this mean you do have a taste for men after all?”

Dazai pouts. “I have a taste for you,” he clarifies. “I’m not ready to label myself yet anyway.”

You nod knowingly. “I understand! There’s no rush.”

Before you get the chance to continue the conversation, your phone pings with a reminder.

“Time for our weekly meeting, apparently,” you say, grinning. “Shall we get to it?”

Dazai grins back and stands up. “Now, where were we?”

Tag list: @suru1990

If you’d like to be part of the tag list, send me a dm!

Next Part ->

Back to Masterlist

#rashoumon writes #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai x male reader #dazai x m!reader #dazai smut #bsd fic #bsd #dazai bsd #sub dazai #bungou stray dogs

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akitheasteroid · 8 days

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Splitting Realms - SMG4 Selfaware!Au

(Art By @k1ra0nloose, @chaoticlad, @tophatwearingidiot, @bear-boi-5, and me!) (this was an excuse to @ you all)

MAIN CREATOR OF THE AU: @k1ra0nloose (IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS YOU CAN ASK THEM)

EMPLOYEES: Me, @tophatwearingidiot, @chaoticlad

CHAPTER 1 -

Next Chapter

SMG4 sat in his room, thinking about crazy theories he had and what should’ve been impossible. It started almost a week ago during the zany adventure of the day. He couldn’t shake off the unsettling feeling that there were eyes all around him, watching his every move. He started to look around everywhere wondering where the strange feeling was coming from. He would look around anxiously and start to shout out to whoever was there. After the conclusion of the adventure the feeling didn’t disappear. He fled to his room in a panic, trying to hide from whatever was watching him. He couldn’t manage to get a wink of sleep as he spent the whole night opening and closing windows and being afraid to abandon the castle. Day 2 wasn’t any different except for when he began to believe he was tapping on a screen that was in front of him, but he just wasn’t able to see it. He tried to explain briefly what was happening to his crew, but they all just suggested that he should get some sleep before he even really got to the point. 3 claimed that “he was just being insane” whilst Mario called him “coo-coo crazy.” No one would believe him.

The other few days were barely any different as he stayed strictly in his castle and stuck in his room, rambling, trying to figure out what was even going on. Then we get to today. SMG4 laid in his bed rambling to himself over and over about the same things. “They’re watching everything, they see all of it, they’re all there, waiting for the moment I leave-” He was interrupted by a knock on his door that sat him straight up. His first thought was that whoever was watching had finally decided to get to him directly. He ran to the nearest corner of his room paranoid of what could be hiding right behind the door.

A voice came from behind the door, “SMG4? Are you in there?” It sounded like Meggy. Another voice spoke, it sounded like Italian blabbering, it sounded like Mario. He felt at ease for just a second before his mind went on another train ride.

What if it’s not really them behind the door? What if whoever or whatever had been watching him was mimicking their voices to lure him outside of the castle? What if-

His thoughts were cut off again by a 3rd voice, “Yeah get your overly paranoid ass out here!” It was SMG3. Reluctantly, 4 got up and headed towards his room door. He held his hand over the doorknob hoping that his thoughts about what was behind it had all been something silly. He peeked open the door and- there were the 3 of them staring at him in concern, he had dark eyebags and his hair was a complete mess. “Hey guys!” he started. Meggy was the first to ask the question that was the whole reason they came over, “What have you been doing? We haven’t seen you out the castle in days!” SMG4 stared down at the floor trying to find the words to explain how he felt he was being watched and how he was tapping what in his head, had to be a screen. “So you see I- we are probably- there's something-” He took a deep breath, “I believe there’s something watching us all- everything we do is being watched.” The 3 of them stared at him confused. “SMG4 are you sure you’re ok?” 3 asked.

“Of course I am!” SMG4 immediately replied. They stared at him even more concerned, “Hey maybe it’s time you get some fresh air and touch some grass” Mario said as he pulled 4 from inside his room and began to attempt to drag him outside of the castle doors into the open showgrounds. Meggy and SMG3 were walking up to go help him when 4 snapped at them. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND WE’RE ALL BEING WATCHED? WE CAN'T GO OUT THERE!” He broke from Mario’s grip and sprinted back into his room straight onto his bed. The 3 outside staring and left speechless by what just happened. SMG3 stomped over to the door and began to pound on the door while yelling, “WHAT ARE YOU ON? CAN’T YOU SEE WE’RE TRYING TO HELP YOU HERE?”.

SMG4 was quick to yell back through the door, “IM TRYING TO MAKE YOU ALL UNDERSTAND! THERE’S SOMETHING OUT FOR US!”

“WELL YOU’VE CLEARLY LOST IT!”

“AND YOU’RE CLEARLY TOO CAUGHT UP WITH YOURSELF TO UNDERSTAND!”

Silence.

SMG3 lifted his hand as if to go for another bang, but he lowered it slowly and turned around back to Mario and Meggy with a solemn look on his face. “Hey, SMG3, maybe we’ll just leave him alone for now?” SMG3 started to walk out of the castle with the other 2 following slowly behind.

SMG4 began to ramble on his bed, “What don’t they understand?” Can’t They see what's happening right now??” He looked around his room when suddenly a glow came from his monitor, it was entrancing as he walked closer to it. Closer and closer until he was just a few inches away from touching it. He stared into the glowing light that felt as though it was calling him to come closer, closer, and closer. He laid his hand on the monitor and-

SMG4 found himself out of his room and- in a dark void surrounded by the occasional levitating objects.

“Where am I?”

#smg4 #smg3 #smg4 self aware au #smg4 fanfic #smg4 meggy #smg4 mario #smg4 au #smg34 #megari #IM SORRY ITS SO SHORT #I CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THOUGH #help i feel like i need more tags

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dira333 · 10 months

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Bonded - part 2

Spock x reader

“How is it?” McCoy asks when you walk into med-bay.

“How is what?” You ask back while crossing the distance towards the replicator, requesting two cups of coffee.

“Having a bond with that green-blooded hobgoblin.”

“It’s been a day, okay?” You quip and hand him one of the cups, “So far we haven’t killed each other.”

McCoy grins at that and takes a sip.

“You acting like you hate him won’t fool me, dear. You’re pretty obvious about your feelings.”

You groan and step aside, hoping that will end the conversation. It doesn’t.

“Date night?” McCoy asks two days later when you step out of your office after having gone through all your paperwork - or more accurately, PADD-work. You rub your lips together self-consciously, aware of the color of the lipstick you rarely use.

“What does it matter?” You ask back, hiding your anxiety behind a cool facade. Not that it works, McCoy sees straight through you.

“Nothing. Have fun.” He grins while saying so and you roll your eyes at him and step out of med-bay.

It doesn’t take you long to realize that date night with Spock usually means the choice between two things: Meditate with him or play chess with him.

You usually opt for chess as it gives you the opportunity to talk while doing so, but you’re rather bad at chess so you’re mostly quiet as you try not to lose too badly.

It takes you two weeks or four date nights until you’re tired of it. But how do you tell him that without offending him?

You don’t want him to realize it by reading your feelings through the bond and keep calm as much as possible until you’re tired of that too and drop in the seat in front of McCoy’s desk with a groan.

“What?”

“How do I tell him that I hate chess?”

“By using your mouth, for example?”

You roll your eyes at him. “I would have done that if it was easy. For someone so intent on nosing around in my matters you could have better advice.”

“You want better advice?” McCoy puts down your PADD and looks at you, “Do you think you two are still bonded because you are a shy wallflower that says yes to everything he likes and does? If he wanted something like that, he could have found plenty of those on Vulcan or elsewhere.”

You stare at him wordlessly for a few seconds before you push yourself out of your seat.

“This must be the worst version of ‘Be yourself!’ I’ve ever heard,” you tell him as you walk out his office.

“I hope so!” He calls after you as you leave.

“You are early,” Spock tells you as you step into his ready room.

“Well yeah,” you say, “I like spending time with you.”

He looks up at you, eyebrow raised in question.

“You have something to say?”

“Yes. I hate chess.”

Spock stops short and you take a breath.

“Well, I don’t exactly hate it, you know, but I’m really bad at it, but I figured we could still talk while playing chess whereas meditating seems just plain impossible to me.”

“What do you propose then?”

“There are so many things to choose from. Watch a movie, listen to music we like, make music even or just, I don’t know, talk like we did that first time. And that’s just the innocent part of my ideas.”

He quirks the left side of his mouth upwards until it positively looks like he’s smiling and you grin back at him.

“I’m open to all of your ideas,” he says and you nod.

“Well, how about you show me what we can do with that bond thing anyway?”

You feel a tingling sensation at the back of your head where the connection rests and close your eyes involuntarily as pictures, sounds and feelings trickle in.

You can see yourself talking on a conference, can hear Spock talk to Captain Kirk how you would be a viable addition to the team and feel his eagerness to talk to you when you first step onto the Enterprise.

Your eyes snap open as you realize what he’s trying to show you and the connection stills.

“I am very interested in what you might have to tell,” Spock tells you softly and gestures towards the couch for you to take a seat.

-months later -

It feels different to date when you’re bonded.

It feels different to be bonded.

You are not just yourself anymore and everytime you say or do or feel something, you are reminded of that.

When Ensign Kreger vomits all over your shoes you can feel Spock’s annoyance pricking you right at the back of your skull. It makes it harder to stay calm.

It also makes it harder to stay friends with Dr. McCoy because you can literarily feel Spock’s feelings whenever the CMO makes you laugh. Not that Spock would acknowledge himself having feelings at all, anyway.

“Stop that,” you tell him one morning as soon as you’ve made it to your quarters after an exhausting Gamma shift. You’re sprawled out on the bed and Spock is standing in the doorway, face passive, but annoyance ringing loud and clear through your bond.

“I merely wish you would take better care of yourself,” he states and you grunt.

“Liar.”

“Vulcans do not lie,” Spock claims and steps forward to pull your shoes from your feet.

“But you keep information to yourself. You are annoyed by the fact that I’ve managed to have fun with Dr. McCoy.”

He stops what he’s doing and it’s getting harder for you to stay awake.

“That is true,” he finally confesses, “I admit that the logic of your friendship with the CMO appeals to me in a way I do not particularly like.”

“What?” You turn your head to look at him. “What logic?”

“Doctor McCoy has similar interests, a similar sense of humor and he is fully human. You fit together.”

You snort. “But he does not make my heart jump whenever I see him. Something you should know because we are bondmates.”

“That is a feeling and therefore purely illogical.”

“Illogical or not, I love you.” You tell him, your tongue made loose by exhaustion.

He leans forward to press his lips to your temple.

“I love you too,” he mumbles softly against your skin as you slowly but surely lose your fight and fall asleep.

A relationship is always hard work.

Sure, the bond helps you understand what the other is feeling and it makes many things easier, but not all.

The bond intensifies feelings, the positive ones and the negative ones as well.

You feel twice as happy when you’re happy with Spock, but you also feel twice as angry when he’s angry with you. Or when you’re angry with him. The lines blur until the source of the feelings are no longer clear.

“You could just tell me what she’s telling you,” You snap as you pull out a new uniform from your cupboard.

“I did. She informed me about the progress of the new vaccine.”

“And why did she giggle then?” You throw him a look, annoyance coursing through you, “Don’t tell me vaccines have turned into some new joke nowadays. Or is it just the French way to look serious?”

“Are you jealous?” He asks back, too calm for your liking, “Of Dr. Lefebvre?”

“She never talks to me, okay?” You tell him, huffing out in anger, “And when she does she speaks French which she knows I don’t understand and now she’s talking to my boyfriend, all giggly and smiley and I’m sorry if that makes me feel anxious, okay?”

“I do not think smiley and giggly are terms that-”

“Spock!” You interrupt him, “I don’t want a grammar lesson! I want you to tell me that no French Doctor could ever take you from me because you don’t like French or something like that.”

You wave your hands in the air, trying to capture what you’re feeling as if Spock didn’t already feel that through the bond.

“Dr. Lefebvre thinks we are married,” he says instead and you gape at him.

“What? Why?”

“Because we are close, we’ve been dating for almost two years. I told her we aren’t and she was giggling because she mentioned something about getting down on one knee and found it amusing that I did not get the reference.”

You lean your head against the door of your cupboard.

“Humans go down on one knee when they propose,” you explain to him and he nods in understanding. “That makes sense. Vulcans sing when they propose. Or hold a speech, whatever feels more natural to them.”

“Do you want to?”

“What? Sing? Hold a speech?”

You smile at him trying to copy your humor and shake your head.

“Get married.”

“Oh… well, we are bonded. In Vulcan terms, we are already engaged.”

You laugh at that and step over to where he’s standing, waiting for you to get ready.

“Take my hand, Spock.” You can feel your heart picking up speed, your brain trying to get you to rethink what you’re doing, but you’re not one to rethink yourself.

“Why?” But Spock is.

“I’m trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damned hand!”

He pulls a face at you but takes your hand and watches you with curious eyes as you go down on one knee. It’s difficult in the uniform you’re wearing, but possible.

“Will you, Spock, do me the honor of becoming my husband as soon as we make it to the next starbase?”

Spock crinkles his nose. “Our next stop is on Delta Vega, which is an ice desert void of any civilization. If you do not want to get wed by the poor man working the starbase, I’d advise waiting for a more suitable place.”

You groan.

“Would you marry me then on the next starbase we are both happy with?”

He sends you a strong feeling of happiness through the bond instead of answering and you laugh and jump up to wrap your arms around him.

“And now, the custom of kissing my fiancé,” you joke with a smile before leaning in.

He meets your lips with his own and you can feel an emotion through the bond, taking over your mind.

It’s happiness in its purest form.

It’s love.

#my writing #star trek aos #star trek imagine #star trek x reader #Spock x Reader #Spock AOS #AND THEY WERE BONDMATES!

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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first-edition · 1 year

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Attention

Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader

sum- You’re annoyed with the lack of attention, your boyfriend, billy has given you after an absolutely amazing night. You do everything in you power to provoke him and lord have mercy, does it work, a little too well.

CW- dom!billy, cussing, name calling, ass slapping, pinv, sex, Smut, mention of drug use, mention of alcohol, oral male recovering, noncon-con, dub-con, 18+ minors dni, nicknames, kinfe kink if you squint.

Thank you so much for this request

THIS IS AN NSFW WRITING MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Billy had taken you into his bedroom to show you his new digs. He’d finally moved outta his parents and into his own huge mobile home with Max to keep her safe. The moment Max spent the night with el, billy swept you away from school.

On his new bed was where he fucked you for a straight 4 hours. He fucked you with his fingers, he fucked you with his tongue, he fucked you with his cock. He drew six orgasams from you until you were pleading for mercy, overly sensitive with tears running down your face, and hair messed up. Your body deliciously bruised.

The only thing he wanted to do was show you how good you’ve been to him the past 9 months you’ve been together. But that was 2 weeks ago. You haven’t seen or talked to Billy in 3 days and he’s been distant for the rest. You’ve asked Max about him and she always says he’s busy.

You knew that there were many ways to get your boyfriend's attention. Sending him lewd pics, showing up at his place, or telling him where you’d be for the night and he would always show up and act like he was “just passing through.”

But one way that would absolutely get you in trouble was the way you were going to be at the party. Cheyenne Gibson hosting a senior school party and being best friends with her gave you a front row seat to see the invitation list. Many of the horny jocks of the swim, and football team were going to be there and of course so was billy.

You walk down the stairs of your house wearing a tiny, tight, black dress and matching heels. Your hair is up in a ponytail and you’ve straightened your hair. You’re phone dings looking at seeing a text from billy asking if your going to Cheyenne’s party and if you need a ride.

Rolling your eyes you close your phone and leave your house.

Walking into the party you already see drunk girls dancing up on other girls' boyfriends and people doing lines off bitches ass’s.

“Y/n!!” Chyenne squeals hugging you.

“Hey! Ohh you look so good.” You smile.

“No bitch you look hot as fuck did billy let you leave like that?” She asks

“He doesn't know and I don't care.” You laugh as she does as well and hands you a solo cup absolutely full of spiked punch. Your first drink of the night but certainly not your last.

Since you’d turned your phone off you couldn’t know that Billy had been calling for over 2 hours.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Chyenne catches you on the dance floor.

“Someone special just arrived.” She giggles over the loud music. Looking over at the place she gestures you see Billy walking through the crowd as some other guys greet him.

You smile at her and nod she shimmies off and you walk to the bathroom down the hall and around the corner seeing a line, you don't actually need to go, you just know that other guys hang around waiting to talk to girls who are waiting.

“Hey.” A voice says you turn to see Jake, captain of the football team.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask

“Chill.” He says handing you a blunt you take it and inhale the smoke before handing it back to him blowing out the smoke in perfect O rings. He chuckles at your talent.

“You alone tonight?” He asks you to nod.

“Good you gotta go or you just hanging around?” He asks you shake your head

“Just standing here…wanna dance?” You ask if he looks you up and down and nods, taking your hands leading you back out.

Dancing with your back against his chest your ass rubs against his crotch giving him the most obvious boner his hands are all over your body and face in your neck inhaling your strawberry and cream scent as you let your hair down.

Another guy comes and joins and you gladly dance with him pretty soon you're surrounded by people touching up on you and dancing, smoking and drinking. Through the vibration and lights you see Billy across the room spotting his face immediately drop in anger, his eyes dark as he lights a cigarette watching you.

You smirk and purposely bend forward the guy behind you gripping your hips grinding against your ass, your small dress riding up. You stand again wrapping your arms around the boys watching as billy boils.

You turn away from Billy facing the other guys. But before you know it another set of hands are gripped tightly around your hips.

“Miss me that much hmm?” Billy’s voice hits your ears, you giggle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Fucking slut.” He growls his hand wrapping around your throat. Making you gasp.

“I've been calling you…you ignoring me?” He ask.

You pull back from him,

“you’re one to talk bill.” You turn away to walk off but he grabs you putting you over his shoulder and walks outta the party. He walks to his car opening the door and puts you in the seat then shuts the door walking around the side getting into his driver's seat.

“You asshole my car is here!” You exclaim.

“Sit the fuck down!” He barks at you and you sit back in the seat crossing your arms. He screeches off at his place.

He gets out of the car and you do as well but he picks you up again over his shoulder.

“I can fucking walk billy!” You whine.

“Shut up!” He slaps your ass making you squeal. He opens the door.

You see max, will, and el all playing a board game sitting on the floor.

“Hey y/n!” She exclaims, always happy to see you. You move your hair out of your face and smile.

“Hey!” You smile

“You alright?” She asks as Billy walks past them, still over his shoulder.

“We’ll see.” You giggle as Billy takes you out of her sight down the hall to his room, shutting the door and putting you on the bed.

“Nice to see you too.” You huff taking your heels off.

“What?! Why are you so fucking desperate today huh?” Billy yells at you as you sit on his bed, your legs crossed, you don't make eye contact with him.

“You’ve been throwing yourself out at everyone except me, your fucking boyfriend, tits out, ass flashing, your cunt is out for the world your not wearing a dress youre wearing a fucking napkin and a shoe string to cover your fucking clit for fucksake.” He says angrily

“You left me alone after! For 2 fucking weeks I haven’t seen you in three da-“ billy grabs your face.

“Take that language with me and see what happens.” He says. You look up at him.

“B-Billy..” you say, your big eyes shining. A growl rumbles in his throat.

“I know what’s wrong hmm..i fucking know princess.” He says pushing his hair back letting go of you before unclasping his belt. You shift in your seat now sitting on your heels, your legs tucked under you.

“This what you want hmm?” He says unbuttoning his pants just enough. The patch of matching colored hair on his groin is exposed as he pulls his pants and boxer front down enough to expose his cock that you've had in you so many times.

“Was it not enough last time hm, not enough that I fucked you for 4 hours, gave you 6 orgasams huh?” He says stroking his already hardened cock from your trickery earlier. You don't say anything and look down.

“No, you fucking slut, look at me.” He grabs you by your chin standing above you.

“Mm.” You whine biting your lip.

“Since your gonna act like a sleeve ill fuck you like one huh?! HUH!” He snaps at you. Your eyes look up at such a beautiful sight you are so close to his dick that your breath makes him twitch.

“Open your mouth.” He says you obey by sticking your tongue out. Slapping his heavy tip on top of it strings of saliva follow before you close your lips around him and take him. He hisses at the movement.

“Put your arms behind your back.” He says you listen, grabbing your wrist.

“Suck.” He orders you once again to obey and do so, sucking him off by bobbing your head.

He groans watching you take him in your mouth.

“I don’t know if i made myself clear before hand about how to get attention, they surely wasn’t fucking it” he says.

“Mmm.” You reply.

He nods and grabs your head pushes his dick down your throat making your moan the vibration causing him to twitch.

He continues to drool on your face, spilling from your mouth. The lewd sounds of sloshing and light gagging he pulls out you lean over inhaling the much needed oxygen wiping your mouth before you can look back up at him he pushes you back against the bed. The click of a switchblade and the shine of a blade close to your skin as he tears the dress from your body and removes your thong. Removing his pants and shirt he pulls his belt from the pants and makes cuffs attaching your wrists to them and hooking it to the post of his bed.

He pushes your legs apart and without hesitation enters you. No foreplay, for prep.

“Ah-!” You scream out he fucks you already over-stimulating you.

“You liked rubbing up on those guys hm?” He asks, gripping your breast in hand.

His mother comes up lightly, slapping your cheek.

“Answer me.” He huffs.

“Y-yes.” You answer he grips your neck shoving himself lathe way in making you clench around him letting out a loud moan.

“Fuckin look me!” He yells that you look up to him over you.

You see his expression on his face anger but mostly hurt. His dark eyes are glazed over. You thought making billy jealousy would be fun but now it just hurts you too see him like this only wanting you to show you something to teach you a lesson.

You lunge forward your lips connecting with his. If he were actually punishing you he’d pull away but no this time he kisses you back with passion. His tongue pushes its ways into your mouth making you moan.

You pull back as he kisses down your neck removing his hand.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry billy!” You say choking back your tears as he brushes your body with nips and sucks.

He pulls his lips back and reaches up, removing your hands from the cuffs. Your arms immediately wrap around him pushing him off you so you're on top. You sink back into him riding him. Groans leave his throat as his hands grips your waist.

“Fuck-“ he curses and your grind against him.

You just wanted his attention, his love. You wanted him to notice you as if you were back in freshman year seeing him walk around.

Hr thrusts up into you moans and breathes leave your body. His thumb circles your clit making your clench around him, your nails clawing at his chest. The over whelming situation of him fucking your tightens the knot in your stomach.

“B—billy fuck..please” you moan out.

“You gonna cum baby?! Hm” he asks you to nod breathlessly.

He pushes you off him and turns you around your back facing him. You wiggle your ass making him chuckle as he smacks his hand down on your cheek before squeezing and soothing the mark with a kiss.

“Arch baby.” He instructs you to listen , arching slightly; he rubs his tip against your strip before entering you again, the new angle making you tight as ever.

He sucks in a breath gripping your ass.

“Shit- those fucker you were dancing with wish they had your little pussy around thier dicks.” He chuckles as he thrusts into you. Your arms hug the pillow to your face as it muffles your moans.

"Such a good girl," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. Clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. Another slap coming down on your ass each making you gasp into the pillow.

Billy grabs your hair pulling you up into him.

“You're mine. You got that. Fucking mine. In every way.” He says roughly thrusting up into you.

“Y-yes s-sir.” You manage out before clamping down around his cock cumming hard. Your eyes rolling back as he reaches down rubbing your clit making you squirm in his grasp.

He lets you go and with a few more sloppy thrusts Billy is cumming deep into you. You feel him twitching growing as he cums.

You pant putting your hand on your stomach feeling the budget of your boyfriends dick still settling in you. It's gone as he pulls out leaving a trail of kisses down your shoulders as he gets up disappearing in the bathroom he’s got in his room for a minute before coming back grabbing a shirt from his drawer he pulls on his boxers and walks back over to you.

He runs the cold damp cloth along your body cleaning you off before chucking it into the clothes hamper.

“Come here baby.” He says pulling you up into his arms as you sit up.

“Let me see.” He says looking at your top oversees the hickies scattered along your body as well as the prominent mark around your neck.

“I'm sorry honey.” He says kissing your neck lightly. You shake your head, not placing your hands on his face, pressing your lips softly against him.

“Don't be.” You smile. He puts the shirt over over body pulling the covers back as you get in under.

“Stay here for the night okay.” He says you nod holding your arms out to him he joins up as you cuddle up next to him.

(Hello to my amazing readers im officially open fro requests, smut, angst, fluff, almost everything your heart could wish for, shoot me a dm or an anonymous message and I’ll be back to you!!!!)

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catladyoftheyr · 1 month

Text

Too Sweet (Ch 3)

Harvey x Reader

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 4

Summary: picking up off last chapters cliffhanger and diving straight into Harvey’s 4 heart event. You resolve the conflict after the incident with George, Harvey gives you a checkup, and you two share a jar of pickles in his apartment. 💘🥒

Authors note: I know nothing about the Air Force I’m so sorry. It’s just for the plot and vibes. He needed a backstory!!

Word count: 1.7k! A longer chapter as a treat

“Harvey! Oh my god why are you here? Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that” the surprise visit from the doctor had you stumbling over your words. “You scared me. And I don’t actually think your mustache is stupid. I just… I was really embarrassed about what happened earlier.”

“I actually stopped by to thank you for backing me up earlier. George can be stubborn, so I’m glad you got him to listen to you.” The doctor averted eye contact and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh uhhh, sure. How much of what I said did you hear by the way?” You hoped silently that he hadn’t heard you call him cute, especially since you’d been talking to a chicken.Harvey slid down and sat next to you on the floor of the coop.

“Just the part where you insulted my mustache,” he replied, stroking his own facial hair. “The farm is coming along nicely. You must be very dedicated to make such a turn around in such a short time.”

Oh thank Yoba you thought to yourself. “Thank you. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time; I want to honor Grandpa’s memory because he loved this farm and the community. I used to spend a couple weeks here in the summer when I was growing up. I haven’t been back to the valley since I was a teenager. I didn’t think Lewis would recognize me when I came back.” You laughed quietly, an image of you as a gawky adolescent with braces coming back to you

“About earlier, we can put that behind us if you’d like. I didn’t mean to be short with you either. I was startled so I apologize for being curt.” Harvey looked at you with a kind expression before rising from the floor. “I’d like for us to be on good terms going forward.” He extended his hand and helped you up.

———————————————————————————

The bell on the door chimed as you walked in and Harvey’s head poked up from his paperwork. “Hey! Just the person I wanted to see today actually.”

“Oh?”

“I was about to write you a letter recommending that you schedule your annual checkup. If you don’t mind, I’ve got time today actually for a cursory exam.” Truthfully you weren’t very fond of hospitals, or doctor’s appointments. But you were also a terrible liar and had no time to think of an excuse. Better just to get it over with, you supposed.

“I can make it work.” You set the jar of pickles aside temporarily and followed Harvey to an exam room. You sat down on the paper, uncomfortable with the sudden formal shift in your dynamic. You’d gone from friend to patient in a matter of minutes. Harvey placed his stethoscope just under the collar of your shirt and you flinched at the touch of the cold metal.

“Sorry it’s chilly,” Harvey said. “Your heart rate is a little high. Do hospitals make you nervous?” He asked with a slight furrow in his brow.

“A little bit” you admitted. It certainly didn’t help that this was the most physical contact the two of you had shared since you met. He placed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes met. You felt your palms start sweating.

“Take a deep breath for me please” you did as instructed and tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of his hand on you. “Your lungs sound strong.” Harvey was in his element as he checked off the boxes of a routine checkup. He tested your reflexes, examined your ears and eyes, writing down his observations on his clipboard. “So far you seem to be in good health. I just have a few more questions about your lifestyle”

“Ask away, Doc.” Harvey seemed slightly flustered at the nickname but made a quick recovery. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood up straighter, clearing his throat

“As I was saying. Working on the farm involves a fair amount of physical labor I assume, so I’m sure you get enough exercise. What do you usually eat in a day?”

“Oh I usually just eat the foragables I find around the valley. There’s a lot of leeks and wild onions out now. I saw a weird looking berry the other day and I ate a couple of those. Sometimes I eat eggs from the chickens, or buy something from Gus for dinner.” Harvey was visibly stressed as he absorbed the information you gave him.

“I would highly advise that you eat a more balanced diet. Foraging is fine as a snack but it won’t provide enough energy for your activity levels. Eggs are good, but I’d implore you to try and eat from all the food groups”

“So this probably isn’t a great time to say I also eat the algae I find in the mines?” You’d never seen the poor doctor so stressed; you imagined most of his patients weren’t quite as odd as you.

“Let’s move on. How much sleep do you get at night?”

“6ish, sometimes less, sometimes more”

“Well, 8 hours a night is recommended but 6 isn’t terrible I suppose. But I’d encourage you to try and find a healthier routine. Farming is labor intensive and if you don’t give your body the care it needs you won’t be able to keep up sooner or later.” He had a look of genuine worry in his eyes and it pulled at your heartstrings. You’d only known each other for several months, but you sensed the beginning of a deep connection.

“I’ll try to be better,” you replied softly. You weren’t used to being chastised, but you understood he meant well.

“Thank you. You’re free to go and have an official clean bill of health from me”

“Well I stopped by to ask a favor actually”

“Oh?”

“I was wondering if you’d do me the honors of being the very first taste tester of my first batch of farm fresh pickles” you grinned and gestured toward the door “I left them on the counter.” Harvey smiled back and held the door open for you.

“I’d be honored. I’m actually about to close up for the day, would you like to come upstairs?”

The two of you headed upstairs to the small apartment above the clinic. Furniture was sparse and well loved, and there was a small kitchenette off the main room. The back wall held a large bookshelf that boasted an assortment of books and some small trinkets. Another shelf was lined carefully with model planes. There was a radio station in the corner by the window. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Harvey said sheepishly.

“It’s great” you replied, eyes scanning the room with eagerness. You were itching to learn more about him. You took a seat on his small sofa, your heart nearly skipping a beat when he sat next to you, his knee inches away from yours. “You can have the first one” you offered, extending the open pickle jar toward Harvey.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Harvey reached in and plucked out a particularly large pickle before biting into it. His eyes lit up as he tasted it. “This is delicious! You’ve really never made pickles before?” You shook your head. “Well you certainly have a knack for it.” You grabbed a pickle for yourself and were pleasantly surprised at how good they were. You were glad he wasn’t lying to spare your feelings.

“What’s with the planes?” You saw Harvey get a far off look on his face while he thought about his response

“I’ve always been fascinated by aviation. I did a stint in the Air Force years ago. I wanted to become a pilot but it didn’t pan out. It ended up paying for my med school tuition though. The model planes are something I like to do in my free time. I find them relaxing, and they remind me of my time in service.”

“I would have never guessed that. Pilots and doctors are pretty different. What led you down this path?”

“I think I’ve always had an affinity for helping people. I joined the Air Force to serve my country; this feels like a way to serve the community in a different way.”

“That’s actually really selfless.” You toyed with images of Harvey in uniform as you reached for another pickle, not realizing that Harvey had the same idea. Your hands met in the rim of the jar and you flinched back instinctively. The small touch left you wanting more. You adjusted your legs slightly, tentatively letting one fall against his. Harvey made no effort to break contact.

“Tell me more about yourself. You said you explore the mines. Are there really monsters in there?”

“There are! I haven’t made it down very far but there’s all kinds of creatures down there.” You animatedly described the things you’d encountered on your adventures: colorful slimes, stealthy rock crabs, large buzzing insects, agile bats and more. Harvey looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.

His voice grew soft as he spoke “please be careful in the mines. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Suddenly it was as if a switch had gone off in his mind and he got up from the couch. “Wait here one second!” He bolted across the studio and down the stairs. You heard rummaging from below before Harvey emerged again holding an armful of various medicines and first aid supplies. “Take these.” He thrusted the bundle of supplies into your arms.

“Harvey I can’t just take these from you. These are expensive” you insisted, trying to hand them back to him. A roll of gauze unraveled on the floor. Harvey plucked it from the ground and placed it on a table.

“Nonsense. Consider it part of your checkup.” He looked you in the eyes with a pleading expression. “Please take them. And promise me you’ll keep them with you in the mines”

“I promise.”

#my writing #harvey fluff #harvey x farmer #sdv fanfic #stardew fanfiction #stardew valley fanfic #harvey stardew valley #stardew valley fanfiction #harvey x reader

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