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#and i would not trade how much better i feel in my body now for anything! if i was still waiting no coz of money that would be excruciating

lokischocolatefountain · 3 months

Text

Denial || Men Like Me

Part 2 of the Men Like Me series. Part 1

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girthy age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), masturbation (male & female), cis fem reader, descriptions of reader's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, Joel ignores you until he can't, slightly insecure reader, very insecure Joel, corruption kink, mild fem!dom, reader turns the tables a little, name calling, fetishization of virginity, face fucking (not the mouth, but cheek), kneeling, stripping, moneyshot, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 10.4k Summary: After your steamy encounter, Joel ignores you out of guilt, leaving you feeling unworthy. But you make a discovery that makes you turn the tables on him. A/N: The reception that chapter 1 got gave me enough serotonin to keep me going, you guys. I hope everyone likes this chapter at least half as much if not as much as the first one. Even the half would give me a lot of joy. And do say hi in my inbox or my asks. I would loooove to talk about these two. As always, pleaaaaaase give me reblog and/or a comment to recharge my writing batteries. Most importantly, a big thanks to @tobuildahomeinthewoods because the smut part was from their idea in the last chapter's comments .

“Long day, huh?”

“What?” you asked, your brain taking a second too long to process the words. “Yeah. Yeah, yeah,” you said, going back to your glass of whiskey.

“I heard about the kids. They gotta be more careful,” Tommy said, looking to his brother for some kind of confirmation. Joel nodded hesitantly, his eyes looking everywhere but you as he traced the rim of his glass with his middle finger. So cavalier like he didn’t fuck you with that very finger. Asshole.

“Yeah, yeah. Climbing trees is not wise,” you agreed, willing yourself to look away from his brother. You didn’t want to get caught staring, or worse glaring. The chatter of the dinner crowd at the Tipsy Bison drowned into the sound of you tapping your fingers on the wood counter of the bar. You got up abruptly, the bar stool going down from the force of your actions. You bent over to pick it up, a hand moving to your chest instinctively to keep from flashing everyone. With no such protection for your ass, you could feel familiar eyes on them. Eyes that you’d become accustomed to having on you no matter the distance.

“You ok–” Tommy began, but you cut him off.

“You have a good one, Tommy,” you said, grabbing your bag from the bar counter and slinging it over your shoulder. “I gotta go. I’m really tired.”

Like the fool that you were, you picked your glass up and downed the rest of the whiskey, your throat rejecting the choice with a cough that had you spit out half of the burning liquor. Great. Now you’d have to wash your scrubs before going to bed so it didn’t stain. Fucking great.

There were some protests from the younger Miller brother, some words of concern. But you ignored him as you hurried out of the Tipsy Bison and into the night. At least one of the Millers had some manners. And it wasn’t the one that broke into your house and showed you what a clitoris was. It was fucking embarrassing that he was ignoring you after that. Even more embarrassing that you had to learn it from a random guy when you were the one poring over anatomy textbooks trying to become a doctor. You should know anatomy better than anyone else. Your mentor should’ve taught you. You’d learned how to conduct a safe childbirth. Even been allowed to close up the last c-section patient. But you didn’t fucking learn how the baby got in there.

Alright well, you did. But you hadn’t been told about some of the especially sensitive parts of the body that would be involved in the process.

You tossed your bag on your couch, got yourself some cookies that you traded for last week and climbed up the stairs to your bedroom. It wasn’t a nutritious dinner, but it filled your tummy. It came in handy when you didn’t want to spend time chopping vegetables and boiling pasta or whatever the hell you had to do to cook.

Your bedroom had become your prison in the last two weeks. You felt trapped, unable to see beyond it. How could you, when it ironically was right here that you found freedom?

Even as you did something as mundane as eating cookies on bed and spilled crumbs on your sheets like a child, the chair in front of your dressing table was in sight. From where you sat, you could see very clearly the scratch on the black paint that revealed the light wood underneath. Evidence of how you had to hold on to dear life as Joel worked your pussy expertly. Like he knew it as well as he knew the tools of his trade. Like weaving his fingers between your folds was as familiar to him as it was for you to weave through skin with your suture needle and thread.

You felt yourself dripping at the mere memory of his thick fingers pumping away inside you, unraveling the fibers of your being. The sight of him at the bar– his finger tracing the rim of the glass– it took you to the memory of that very finger teasing your pussy.

The pornographic magazines, the entertainment for men, no longer saw the light of day from their box under your bed. Pictures of nude women you wanted to model yourself after in order to be attractive to men no longer sufficed. All you strived for now was to be attractive to him. To be strung like a puppet in his hands while all he seemed to want was to get away from any place where you were.

You felt a pang in your chest as you recalled the first time you went to the house of worship after your time with Joel to find that he’d been replaced with the younger Miller. Tears stung in your eyes as you felt rejected by his absence. Like he no longer wanted to be in the same room as you, hammer nails into wood as you spoke to your fellow townspeople about their wellbeing. You told yourself it was just a temporary thing. That the brothers just liked to alternate shifts and he would return soon to fix the windows that shattered during a storm in the winter.

He never came.

You’d never experienced such rejection before. You’d never wanted before. To want was to risk rejection, to feel the pit in your stomach as you felt now. You never wanted to feel less than, undesirable, unwanted. So you pulled away from all the men you dated. If you could even call that dating. Maybe it was your own fault for thinking it would be easier with Joel. What did you think? That he would fold immediately because you showed off your legs and touched his arm and pushed your breasts out to present your femininity?

Naive, stupid girl.

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.”

Something twisted in your belly and you lied down, pulling your covers over you as though it would contain the shame coursing through you.

You probably looked silly to him, like a little girl playing adult. Like a kitten picking a fight with a lion. Less than half his age, just a fucking preschooler on outbreak day when he would’ve been a fully grown man. Maybe already beginning to gray, the skin by his eyes crinkled from the years he spent smiling at and wooing women. Why would he want a girl? He’d want a real woman. Someone like Tommy’s wife, perhaps. Someone he wouldn’t have to teach.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man?” his taunt rang cold in your ear, sending chills down your spine like he was still behind you, fingers buried deep inside the most intimate part of you. You pressed your thighs together, heat pooling between them as it always happened when you thought of what he did to you.

Shame didn’t deter you as you brought your fingers to your pussy, brushing one against your clit with curiosity. With fear. It felt so good, like its sole purpose went beyond the animal need to survive and propagate. You bypassed it to touch your weeping slit, more comfortable with what you were already used to for carnal pleasure.

Your own fingers had always been enough. Out in the wilderness when you needed to release pent up energy. After long days at the clinic and sharing notes with the other students. When you were tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep. Your fingers always took you to where you needed. You were always satisfied.

Not anymore.

You whined as the different angles you tried failed to work. The physical pleasure was the same. But not quite like how it felt with him. His hand was larger, his fingers longer and thicker. He showed you sports inside you that you’d never been able to touch yourself. Maybe this was what people meant when they said ignorance was bliss. Knowledge of pleasure you could have but couldn’t give yourself was torture.

As much as you resented Joel now, you couldn’t help but conjure images of him as you brought yourself closer to release. His deep brown eyes, his large hand that he wrapped around your throat, the way he carried you from your chair and deposited you on your bed. Like a human being weighed nothing to him. Like you were his toy that he could bury his fingers in, play with and set aside when he was done, when he was bored. Entertainment for Men came to your mind again and you cried like you never had at your own touch.

Your thighs trembled as you imagined yourself as one of those women in the magazines, but only for him. Entertainment for Joel. Splayed out on the center page for him to look at and fuck his hand to. You wouldn’t mind being tangible entertainment. Laid out on his bed, limbs arranged in an attractive manner for him, so he could access whatever part of your body he wanted to play with. To be bent to his will and fucked, to be used, given an affectionate pat on your pussy and put away when you’d outlasted his needs only to be given attention when he wanted to get off the next time.

You shook uncontrollably, your eyes squeezed shut and the world went blank as you reached your peak. You pulled your spare pillow to your chest, needing some physical comfort after experiencing such a high. You wished it were him instead of an inanimate object. That he would make you feel good and hold you and kiss you all over. That he would stay when you woke up the next day and do it all over again.

Once the haze of your orgasm cleared up, you cringed at the feelings it had brought out of you. How stupid… Wanting a man who broke in, fucked you with his fingers, and began ignoring you like you did something horrible to him. Fuck Joel Miller and fucking his stupid fucking face. As he said, there were other men in the town. Men who wouldn’t ignore you.

⌘

“How are the windows lookin’?”

“Fixed ‘em up in time for the cold winds. No thanks to you, fuckin’ asshole.”

“Sorry. Y’know I ain’t the church going type.” It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t the church kind before Sarah died and he certainly wasn’t anymore. That the young aspiring doctor he fingered in her bedroom was the real reason behind him swapping work would remain his secret.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy grumbled, playing with the now cold fries on his plate. “It ain’t a church, by the way. Maria keeps correctin’ me. It’s the house of worship.”

Joel rolled his eyes at that. He got the reasoning behind it. The town had people who believed in different Gods and had different religions. Calling the place a Church would be as unfair as calling it a– whatever, he didn’t know any other kind of place for worship. But it still pissed him off when his little brother came to him and went on about something his wife said.

Go off and do whatever your wife tells you, motherfucker.

No matter how he tried, the snide voice in his head that hated Maria never went away. He never said anything to her or Tommy. Maria was decent to him too, unlike the time he first arrived with Ellie. She trusted him with Miles. Invited him and Ellie over to family dinners. But they kept their interactions to a minimum, as though there’d been a silent agreement that it was best they kept it civil so as to not sow discord in the family.

“Whatever. No point in worshiping, be it Jesus or whatever stuff they got goin’ these days.”

A shudder went down his spine, triggered by the talk of religion. As it became colder, Ellie had begun to revert to the empty shell of a child she was after the events in Colorado. There’d been grifters in the past hiding behind religion to cheat people out of their money, to damage children irreparably while preaching the word of God. The end of the fucking world somehow didn’t stop them from going on. Didn’t stop people from believing that an all-knowing, all-powerful guy in the sky was still watching and would protect them.

If what protected people was God, guns were God. And Molotov cocktails. Sharp rocks and shoelaces.

Ellie didn’t tell him much, but from what he could piece together, it was a religious group with one guy leading them. And they were fuckin’ cannibals. Sounded like a goddamn cult.

“It’s a nice place to meet people,” said Tommy, snapping him out of his descent into the void of the recent past.

Joel simply snorted and took a sip of his glass of water. He couldn’t handle his alcohol like he used to. Age and that he had been off his usual cocktail of oxy and whiskey for a long time now. He had to resort to having a lot of water to sober himself up after the occasional evening drinks with Tommy.

“What? It is! I go there, catch up with everyone in town. Usually people go there when they’re going through some shit. It makes them feel conscious if you visit their house. So I just run into ‘em at the Chu– house of worship– and I just talk to them about their lives ‘n see if there’s anything I can do for them.”

“Guess you’re right,” he said, slotting his thumbnail in the ridges on the bar counter absentmindedly, scraping off bits of the old softening wood.

He could go again. Only so many days he could ignore you. But the reminder of the shame coursing through his veins when he saw you this evening made him shake the thoughts off. There was no way he could be anywhere you were without shriveling up and dying of embarrassment.

You were so young.

Relatively unblemished by the world. A fuckin’ virgin. Never known the touch of a man and moaning his name as you touched yourself.

Nope, nope, nope. Shouldn't have gone there, he thought as he felt himself hardening in his pants. Shouldn’t his dick be non-functional by now? He was dangerously close to sixty and spent a good two decades without adequate nutrition. Shouldn’t that be enough to turn his dick limp forever?

“Come over tomorrow, then. We’re doin’ a little memorial thing in the back of the house of worship. That young doctor’s idea, actually. She put the idea forward at the last council meeting. Thinks it’ll help people to have something physical to remember their people by.”

Young, sweet, and so fucking thoughtful.

Not meant for men like him.

Yet he went the next day.

The topic of Sarah hung in the air around him and Tommy like a fog beyond which they couldn’t see. It sat heavy in his chest, the memory of his baby and worse, everything his shit brain had forgotten. He remembered that she gave him shit, mocked him over everything. But she didn’t have a voice in his head anymore. He could describe the sweetness of her voice, but it no longer sounded out in his mind. No matter how hard he tried.

Her favorite color was purple and she loved soccer. He couldn’t recall the name of her team. She loved reading. He didn’t remember her favorite author. She liked animated movies. He couldn’t remember a single one. Just the vague memory of her falling asleep on his lap as cartoon characters chirped away on tv. Even her face was beginning to blur. When he recalled her features, it was only through images of the last seconds of her life.

“We could just do alphabetical order. Simple.”

“Not really,” you said, scribbling lines on the paper. “We get new people in the town sometimes and we don’t want the names they add to stand out, away from the alphabetically ordered list. Might make them feel bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What about age?” Tommy suggested.

“Still the same problem. It would force newcomers to have their own separate list at the bottom.”

“How about a first come first serve system? We tell people when we’re taking names down for the memorial and they can come over, form a queue and give us the names they want included. That way, people can keep the names of the people they love in one spot on the memorial instead of having it scattered all over because of age or alphabetical order.”

“What do you think, Joel?” Tommy asked, making him fold his arms over his chest and sigh. He didn’t give a shit. But that wasn’t the most amicale thing to say when someone was trying to do an objectively good deed. Unlike the other people in this town, he didn’t deserve to add the names of his people to a memorial. He failed in protecting them. He didn’t deserve to mourn like he wasn’t the reason they went into early graves.

“Yeah, ‘s good. I agree.” He said, finding no faults with your proposal to order the names of the deceased by the order in which people gave it to ‘em. He didn’t know why he was being asked all this. It wasn’t like he was on the council like them. He was just takin’ measurements when he got dragged into this.

“How many names do you think we’ll get?” Tommy asked him in yet another attempt to get him involved.

Taking pity on his brother, he began a rough estimate of the number of names they’d get for the memorial and how much surface area they’d need for carving them in. “Six hundred people in town. Babies don’t have names to give. Kids wouldn’t have too many and if they had any, it would be on their parents’ list too. How many kids in this town?”

It was a fucking nightmare, sitting there at the table with you and doing calculations when all he wanted was to throw you over his shoulder and take you back to his place. Make you pose like you were posing in front of your mirror that day. Like women in those porno magazines he sneaked into his teenage bedroom and jerked off to. The fuck were you even thinking? Door left open, tits out, fingers in your cunt and his fucking name on your lips.

Did you notice him at your door and decided it would be a fun trick to play on an old man? Or did you always scream his name when you fucked yourself? When was the first time? Did you always come so prettily on your own fingers like you came on his? Being in the dark drove him crazy. But part of him felt that getting the answers would drive him absolutely fucking insane.

The thought alone was enough to make him feel uncomfortable in his pants. He adjusted himself on his seat and looked away from you, afraid that somehow you’d be able to tell that he was having improper thoughts about you when you were talking about honoring the dead. If thinking about you sexually in a church was bad, he was sure it was worse to think it when you were trying to help people memorialize their dead.

You had an air of innocence about you. The brightness of your eyes and the way you moved your hands about as you planned the details of this memorial and scribbled them out on your little notebook. He’d been attracted to that innocence from the very start. A rare thing to find out in the world. When even babies were born into violence and oppression, innocence was a luxury no one even thought to acquire.

A virgin, too.

His cock twitched in his pants. He gulped and looked around to check if anyone had caught his shameless response. Nope.

He was surprised you were a virgin. For all your innocence, you were also fucking beautiful. There were plenty of guys in town. Ladies too, if you liked that. Anyone would’ve snatched you up quick and made sure to show you a world of pleasure. It didn’t take him long knowing you to give in to temptation. It was fucking impossible that no man had worshipped with his head between your thighs. That no man who saw you in your pretty little dresses bent you over and filled you up with his cock.

You were beautiful. Even more so when you came on his fingers. Made all those pretty little sounds. The way you said his name… Nobody had said it like that in such a long time. Not even Tess.

It rang in his head whenever he found himself alone at home. Being in possession of your panties didn’t help matters. White cotton. Innocent. Covered in your dried up release. When he left that day, he made sure to suck on his fingers. Moaned like a fucking creep while going down your stairs. Eyes closed, he could still taste you on his tongue. After so many days. A little tangy with a hint of salt from your sweat and all woman.

It had been embarrassingly long since he felt like a man. He’d been father, brother, smuggler, and father again. But long since he was just man. Never someone desirable. Out there, sex was just for release. Purely biological. The end of the fucking world did not afford good hygiene. You fucked someone because they were the safest option. Not because you were attracted to them.

You, however… You had others in this town. You were here before him. Younger, smarter, with a body that worked perfectly fucking well. You could have anyone but it was his name you were moaning out in the privacy of your room.

He grunted as your voice crept back into his mind. The ‘Joel, please’, and the ‘Sir’.

He grabbed on to the railing as his thighs trembled, afraid he would have an embarrassing fall. His breaths grew quicker and his mind void of everything but you.

On your knees. On your back. On your front so he could fuck you from behind. Your hand around his cock. Your lips stretched out around him as you struggled with his size. Fistful of your hair as you begged for release. Please, Sir. Please, Joel. The heat of your tight velvety cunt. Tears blurring your wide eyed innocence as he stretched out your rear hole. He wanted to take you everywhere, leave you burning with him. Mark you so deep every man you let in after you would know who fucked you first.

It didn't take long. The mental images of you were far too effective. His last time was too long ago. He was too old to last. Too old to want you. Somehow the reminder only pushed him further along. Sticky white cum coated your panties, mixing your scent with his. The mirror showed him a reflection of himself. Old, gray, crow’s feet by his eyes. He dropped your panties in the hamper, the warmth of his own release on his hand and the shame on his face sobering him up quickly.

He wanted to teach you sin. But you had taught him more of it already than you would ever know.

⌘

“Cool jacket, dude!”

“Uh…thanks. I traded for it years ago” you said, digging your thumb nail between the teeth of the zipper. It didn’t fit perfectly, but it worked well on cold nights that weren’t cold enough to warrant a sweater. “Is Joel in? I need to talk to him about a building project.”

“Yeah,” said Ellie before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I mean, he was awake half an hour ago when I left, but he could be in dreamland by now. Cause he’s old.”

“Ah. Of course,” you said, smiling awkwardly at the girl. Joel’s kind of, sort of daughter. You were closer to her than Joel in age. You rolled the memorial plan tighter and tighter, your hands needing to be occupied with something as your mind reeled at the inappropriateness of your desires.

“I’ll make sure I don’t wake him up,” you said before leaving the girl to return to her group of friends.

He was old enough to be your father. It should disgust you, scare you. Maybe it would’ve if you’d had an actual father in your life. A point of reference to know how vile a man of that age would have to be to want a girl your age. You tried to force some disgust into your veins, hoping that would help in putting out the fire in you that threatened to consume you whole. But it was hard to convince yourself that this was wrong when he’d made you feel so good.

Your fingers had become inadequate overnight. If his fingers were so powerful over you… You shuddered to think what he could do for you with his penis. It had to feel better. The organ was made for it, unlike fingers.

You stopped outside his door and knocked without giving it a single thought. If you’d thought about it, you would’ve fled. It had already taken you hours to muster up the courage to make the walk to his house with the draft sketches for the memorial. You wouldn’t let your desperation ruin it.

He looked surprised to see you, mouth opening and closing as though he’d forgotten how to process language. His dark brown curls and the silver that decorated it sat messily atop his head. Like he’d run his fingers through it. An old t-shirt stretched over his chest and struggled against his arms. A pair of dark sweatpants sat on his hips, the drawstrings hanging in the front.

“Hey? Uh…what’s wrong?” he asked, bringing a hand up to his face and scratching his beard. Why was that hot? You had to be out of your fucking mind.

You cleared your throat and looked up into his eyes. “Does something have to be wrong?”

“You’ve never come here, so I thought…”

“I’m here about the memorial plans. I have a few designs I want to run by you,” you said, holding up the rolled up sheets of paper.

“Ah. That. Sure, uh come in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to allow you passage. You looked around his house, careful to seem disinterested so he didn’t have more reasons to think you were a stupid little girl pining after him just because he made you come once.

Shit. He probably already thought that.

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me.”

You swallowed at the reminder as he led you to the dining table and offered you a seat. You looked around while he cleared the table. Plates, tools, some worn out novels. So he was the messy sort. You didn’t know who you would be if you’d had the chance to just be. You didn’t know if you would leave things lying around like that if you’d had a normal start to life. Like Joel. Like the others who were old enough to remember life before the cordyceps.

The place didn’t scream Joel Miller. There were no personal artifacts decorating his living room. No framed art. No books. No throw pillows or even a blanket on the couch.

You knew what it was like to have nothing in your house. When you were still new to the town and it hadn’t hit you yet that you were allowed to have your own things. Collect stuff and not worry about having too many things to carry with you when you had to run. You didn’t own anything you couldn’t fit into your backpack. And you took that backpack everywhere when you managed to step outside your new house.

But over time, you’d decorated your house. People you helped out at the clinic often gave you things as a token of their gratitude. Kids drew pictures for you. A lady once gave you the art off her wall that the previous owner had put up. Tommy and Maria gave you a new sweater that she’d knit when she was pregnant. New yarn from new wool from the town’s sheep. The first time you ever got something truly new.

“No decorations, huh?”

“What?”

“You don’t have any decorations here,” you pointed out again and licked your lips nervously.

“Uh, yeah. Not really the priority. Have’ta trade wisely. Can’t be gettin’ pictures when ya need bread.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “But you don't have to trade for it, you know? You could put up something of what’s in the house already. Surely the previous owners left some stuff.”

“They did. Traded ‘em all for things we need. Fresh fruits, bullets, that kinda shit.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be framed art. You could cut up a nice picture from a magazine or something.”

Joel looked up from the plans, head tilted and an eyebrow raised. Shit! Of course he thought you were talking about your magazines with the naked women.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you said, your voice coming out squeaky. Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and looked down at the plans.

“Let’s discuss the plans,” he said, his voice all gruff and his tone so stern.

“I-I- uh… May I use your restroom?” you asked, unable to look him in the eye after what you’d said. After how he’d reacted. You really didn’t mean it like that. But you could see why that would be hard to believe when the last time he saw you, you had a box full of those men’s entertainment magazines on your bed and one open in front of you as you touched yourself.

Touched yourself and moaned his name.

“Upstairs, second door to the left.”

You squeaked out a thanks before you bolted out of his dining room and made your way up the stairs. There were two bathrooms. One decorated with band posters and a poster of a girl with weirdly cut black hair sitting on a motorcycle. Had to be Ellie’s. The second door to the left was another bathroom. Joel’s, apparently. There was just one bar of soap, a toothbrush, and a pot of toothpaste. No shampoo bar. You pulled the toilet seat and lid down before taking a seat.

You let out a groan and planted your face in your hands. Why the hell did you have to go and make it awkward like it wasn’t already that way. After he made you come that day, he’d refused to be anywhere near you. You hoped it was just coincidence, but after over a week it became undeniable that he was avoiding you.

He probably thought you were going to catch feelings. A girl in one of the romance novels you read fell in love with a guy who took her virginity. And there was the time you overheard this guy talking about not wanting to sleep with a girl because she was a virgin. He was afraid she would catch feelings and get clingy.

Now here you were in his bathroom because you thought it was wise to make small talk and ended up insinuating he should put up dirty pictures on his wall. You could scream. But you wouldn’t. There was already enough awkwardness with him.

You could always jump out of the window and run off to your house. Never speak of this again. Pretend nothing happened if Joel tried to talk to you about it. But something told you that he wouldn’t. He would probably be happy if he never had to interact with you again. You had been acting desperate. He caught you touching yourself moaning his name, for fuck’s sake!

Your hands, permanently dry from all the times you scrubbed them clean for your patients, found some moisture from your salty tears. It was embarrassing, sitting in the bathroom of a guy who wanted nothing to do with you after you scared him off with your stupid little infatuation.

You were a grown woman. Still young, but too old to be acting like this. You should have some experience already. Not sniffling over a man more than twice your age. He was right. He had been a grown man with experience longer than you’d been alive. Of course he wanted nothing to do with you.

The window looked more and more attractive as the seconds passed. It had been a while since you did something like that. You didn’t need to jump out of buildings or trees anymore. You didn’t go on patrols like some residents. With no need to fight for your life and having all the food you could need to never go hungry even once, you’d become a little unfit. If you broke a bone jumping out of Joel’s bathroom window, there would be questions. And everyone would know. You’d have to avoid the whole town instead of just Joel.

You’d just have to face it. Even if facing it was doing as little as just bidding him goodbye and bolting out of his house without an explanation. You got off his toilet and pressed the flush just so he didn’t think you were weird. Like it fucking mattered. He already found you weird and desperate.

You washed your hands, letting the water wash away the tears on your hands before wiping your wet hands over your face in an attempt to remove traces of your crying.

You should’ve just left after that. Not looked around. Not snooped like a creep. You didn’t ever dig. You didn’t have to look too deep to catch it. But a sliver of white peeked out through the netted walls of the laundry hamper. A sliver of white cotton with a light blue stitch.

Without second thought, you dug into his dirty laundry. You came up with the white cotton fabric, going straight to the gusset where the blue thread stitched the fabric pieces together. The original stitch had given out and you sewed it back together just some time back. The blue thread was all that you had at the time.

As though the sight of your panties in Joel’s bathroom wasn’t jarring enough, next came the smell. Of you. Your cum. You felt practically hear your own heartbeats as you recalled how he’d cleaned you up with your own panties. You recalled that he stuffed the fabric in his pocket as you lied on your bed, pussy still pulsating from his handiwork, brain melted, and life changed forever.

You took another whiff of your panties, goosebumps raising the hairs on your body as you felt it. Your cum and something else. It was still damp.

Blood rushed back up to your face and you felt yourself getting tense.

This fucker. How dare he? You’d been embarrassed just a minute ago over your desires and he was doing this the whole time? Noticing you on the streets and running away for days. Running back to his home where he kept your fucking panties, apparently. Avoiding you for so long only to cum in your panties.

So he wanted you.

If not you, he at least wanted sex. Dirrty old man who liked attention from you, but you weren’t even disgusted. Just angry he was pretending to be better than that. He could’ve used any old rag, but he used your panties.

You brought your defiled panties back up and smelled them again. Strangely, it smelled something like bleach. Or you could be wrong. You’d never… You didn’t know what a man’s release was supposed to smell like. Was it different for each man or did they all smell the same?

Wetness pooled in your panties as you imagined him touching himself. Large rough hand wrapped around himself. Did he think of you when he did it? Think of you naked in your bedroom and taking his fingers? What did his penis look like? What would it feel like? Soft? Rough? You’d wondered about having one inside you, but never about a particular man’s anatomy. But this was Joel. Joel was the only one who’d gotten this far in your head.

He couldn’t deny it to you anymore. If nothing else, you could at least call him out for ignoring you when he was wiping his ejaculate off with your stolen panties.

“Joel!” you called out before your fears could talk you out of confronting him. Unsure if he would’ve heard you, you opened the bathroom door and yelled his name out again. “Joel!”

“What?”

“Come up here!”

“What happened?”

“Just come here.”

You heard him sigh, the sound followed by the typical grunts and groans he made when standing up. Fuckin’ old man, ruining your life. Ruining your self-confidence. Ruining your fucking panties. His heavy footsteps thudded against the stairs as he climbed up, the sound getting louder as he got closer to the bathroom.

“Why were you screaming my name like y–” he stopped mid scold, frozen in place by the door as he saw what you had in your hand. He opened and closed his mouth, as though attempting to explain but deciding otherwise. He licked his lips and scratched the back of his neck, his eyes looking everywhere but at you.

“Do you not have rags, Joel?” you taunted, taking a step towards him and enjoying seeing him step back. You felt powerful, moving a large man with just your voice. It was very unlike how he made you feel all the days he ignored you. Weak, insignificant, undesirable.

“You weren’t meant to– Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Which part are you apologizing for? For breaking into my house and touching me? For ignoring me ever since? For stealing my underwear? Or for doing whatever you did with it?”

You moved him out of the bathroom, making him walk backwards in the hallway you hoped led to his bedroom. Even if it didn’t, you’d be fine. You’d exact revenge in any place you can. As long as you got to make him feel the way he made you feel. Pleasure. Shame. Want.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I never should’ve—”

You took your last step towards him, finally trapping him against a wall. You stood close enough to place your hand on his chest. You licked your lips, the rock hard muscles beneath your touch storing itself away in your mind for later use.

“Imagine what would happen if I told someone? You sister-in-law, perhaps… She hates you, doesn’t she?” You smirked, though you were screaming on the inside. You didn’t know where you got all this courage from. You didn’t know you had it in you to threaten a man as imposing as Joel.

He turned pale, his hands up against the wall in surrender. If you’d asked him, he wouldn’t tell you the truth that it was to keep himself from touching you. “Please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do this again, I swear.”

“Maybe I want you to do this again…”

“You don’t. Trust me.”

“Shh!” You said, placing your index finger on his lips. Pink, perfectly shaped, and so damn kissable. “Don’t tell me what I want. You ignored me ever since you walked into my house without my permission and shoved your fingers inside me. I was walking around town believing I wasn’t good enough for big old Joel Miller. What did you say? That you’ve been experiencing longer than I’ve been alive?”

You raised an eyebrow at him when he didn’t answer. Then he nodded reluctantly.

“Why were you coming in my panties then if I didn't measure up? ”

“I won’t do it ag—” he groaned when you grabbed his cock through his pants. He let out a low grunt and his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his neck as he swallowed. You replaced your index finger with your thumb, tracing his trembling lips as you lazily stroked his cock with your other thumb.

He filled your whole hand and there was still more. It took everything in you to not moan at the sheer size of him. To not grind your belly against it to feel it against you. You didn’t know how big it was supposed to be, but the romance novels you read always described the big ones as more desirable.

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I asked why. Why did you steal my panties, Joel Miller?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you come on it? Don’t fucking lie to me cause I can fucking smell you on it.”

“I did. I jerked off with it.” You had to choke back a moan at that. No, you had to be strong. Show him you could take the upper hand just like he did with you. You weren’t a little girl with a crush. You were a woman and you could have this effect on a grown man. You refused to be discounted with a pat on your pussy no matter how much you wanted him to touch you like that again.

“Mmm. And that’s enough to get you going. Just a pair of my panties.”

“Mhmm.”

“Show me how you did it.”

“What?” He asked, eyebrow raised.

“Show. Me. How you did it.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, his hand coming up to stroke the base of his neck. “Wh-What?”

You felt your heart thud against your ribs and if you didn’t know from experience and your textbooks, you’d have been afraid that he could hear it. You’d never done anything so daring. You were the timid girl when it came to this stuff. That the thought even occurred to you was a testament to how much you desired Joel. Not just to sleep with any guy, but to have Joel. Without a word, you reached under the skirt of your dress and tugged your panties down.

He inhaled sharply as you bent down and came back up with your panties. Undyed white fabric, a little green ribbon in the shape of a bow stitched to the front, gusset a light gray from your wetness.

“Show me. I want to see what you were doing in your bathroom with my panties after ignoring me everyday,” you said, taking his hand and forcing the fabric into it. His hand curled around it and you found yourself feeling lighter. You didn't know how long you could keep up the brave front if he continued to have no response.

“Take your clothes off.”

It was like something changed the moment you gave him the garment. His eyes were on you, his gaze unrelenting. He took a step ahead and you stepped backward. His lips curled up in a smirk. It seemed playtime was over… Like a lion letting the cubs play at predation before taking over to show how hunting was really done.

You didn’t know if you were ready for that… Sure it was nothing he’d never seen before, but it was different. The last time, you didn’t do it with the intention to have him see you. He just happened to see you bare and you didn’t cover up when you realized.

“I don’t have a box full of dirty magazines. I need to see somethin’,” he said, his eyes going down your frame like they had every right to be there. “Or you could leave these,” he said, holding your panties up in front of your eyes, “and run back home. What d’ya say?”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you reached behind to find the zipper of your dress. You weren’t going to run off. Not when you’d been desperate for so long to do something, anything with him. Cold air kissed your back as you pulled the zipper down and the hairs on your body stood up in full attention. You pushed the sleeves off your shoulder and shimmied out of the dress, standing in just your dress in front of him.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. He looked you up and down. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down. He radiated superiority, putting you in some kind of a daze. “Your bra too. Show me your tits.”

The crudeness had more wetness pooling between your legs. You nodded wordlessly, afraid that pathetic whimpers would be the only sound you’d make under his gaze. You reached behind and felt around for the clasp of your bra. With his eyes piercing into you, you failed to find it quickly like you usually did. Your mouth dried up, your tongue sticking to the roof.

He made no effort to help. A mocking smile assumed its place on his lips as he watched you struggle in front of him.

When you finally managed your task and stood fully naked, he stood up straight. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. You felt like a piece of meat placed in front of a starving man. Just seconds ago, you were telling yourself you didn’t need his approval, that this would just be revenge. But as he evaluated your body, your pussy wept with the need for your body to be nothing but what he liked.

“Room’s that way.” He nodded in the direction of the room. You turned around and took small steps, your shoulders curling inward and your head bowed in submission. Every inch of your skin burned with the strength of his gaze.

“Kneel.”

You placed your knee on his bed, ready to climb up.

“On the floor.”

One knee still on his white sheets, you turned around to look at him. He was so large. Imposing. The kind of figure you would follow without question. So, you did.

“You look pretty on your knees.”

He took a few steps towards you, stopping when the distance had your neck straightening to look up at him. Large, powerful, imposing. Another step and you were face-to-face with his crotch. His bulge was right there.

“Go on, take it out. Since you wanted it so bad.”

Joel didn’t think you would do it. You looked even smaller kneeling at his feet. Meek little thing. He didn’t at all expect you to taunt him the way you did. Especially after you threatened to tell on him to Maria. He fully expected you to start crying. Guess he really underestimated you. Virgin didn’t necessarily mean innocent.

Yet you folded as soon as he took the reins. He saw the change in you right when he told you to take your clothes off. When your eyes went from determined to defeated. All that spunk evaporated to reveal the little girl underneath. He liked it like that. Made him feel like a real man. Not that there was any scarcity of masculinity in his life of taking out clickers and defending this town. But somethin’ about a beautiful woman accepting his authority did the trick faster than every other display of masculinity.

Your hands fiddled with his belt, trembling as you tried to take it off. He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. “Just undo the zip.”

No way he was going to get naked in front of a pretty little twenty something. It wasn’t anything great to look at even before he began a life of violence and traversing the wilderness. Sure he was well built from all the hard physical labor and constant fight for survival. It’d left several unappealing scars on his person. Time had done a number on him too. Especially his pudgy belly. It didn’t help that food flowed free in Jackson, fattening him up a little.

Thankfully, you listened. You looked up, as though you expected him to complete the task for him. He challenged you with a look. Wanna be a big girl so bad, act like one.

You reached inside his pants and took his cock out. Your lips parted and he heard you inhale through your mouth. His cock hung in front of him, hard from your teasing. He had to give it to you, you were daring for a meek little thing. No one in town would believe him if he told them all that you’d done. And he suspected he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Not too late to back out, you know?” he said, wrapping his hand around himself. It took everything in him to give you an out. As much as he wanted to grab your face, force your mouth open and make you gag around him, he was man enough to let you know you didn’t have to do anything. Young girl probably bit more than you could swallow. And seeing his cock and your mouth so close by showed that he was definitely nothing you could swallow.

“I’m not backing out.”

“First time seeing one?”

“Of course not. I work at the clinic. You think I haven’t seen a penis?”

“No anatomical terms. I ain’t your patient. Go on, touch my cock.”

You reached up for him, but he stepped back, delighting himself in the disappointment on your face. “Come on, you want a man so bad, work for it.”

You moved to stand up. “Did I say you could stand up?”

“No.”

“Then get back on your fucking knees.”

You dropped to your knees and he groaned in satisfaction. The euphoria of wielding power over someone rushed through his veins. And he wanted more. It was the same sick satisfaction he got when he beat men to death. When he broke bones and dressed animals he hunted in the wild. “Good girl. You’re going to listen to what I say. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fuck! That fucking word again.

“Come on, come get it. Hands and knees. Crawl to me.”

He beckoned you forward with one hand, his other still on his cock. You bent over and god fucking damnit, you were a vision. You were an eager girl and he could see what you could become in the right hands. His hands. The things he could show you… Introduce you to your own body. Bring you pain and pleasure that were indistinguishable.

Your tits hung from your chest, swaying as you crawled towards him. Feverish, bright eyes followed him as he continued to refuse what you wanted. Too fucking late. He warned you. Told you men like him weren’t for pretty little things like you. But you didn’t fucking want to listen. Now you’d have to deal with the consequences. Maybe you’d stay away then.

“Please, Sir,” you whined so prettily he almost gave in.

“What are you begging for?”

“You. Y-your penis.”

“My cock,” he corrected. “Say it.”

“Your cock, Sir.”

“Good girl. C’mere,” he said, giving you a nod to come closer. You crawled to him and when he didn’t back away, sat up on your knees. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and gripped your hair, making you hiss. Holding you in place, he brought his cock to your face. You looked up at it, your eyes widening and your mouth slackening. You brought your hand up and touched his tip with just your thumb. The rest of your hand followed, wrapping around him. He gasped silently as you stroked his slit with your thumb, making him leak precum on you.

“Did…? Did you?”

“No. Gotta do more ‘n that to make me come. That’s precum.”

“Oh.”

He didn’t think you knew what precum was. Probably not the focus of your education here. Not the most important thing when townsfolk came in injured after patrols or suffering from a fever that was life threatening without the medicines of the past.

He pressed his cock against your cheek. The sight presented a visual of how you’d struggle if you took him in your mouth. He’d have you choking on him before you even took half. He twitched against your face at the mere thought. You were the picture of innocence, even with his cock on your face. Even with the stunt you pulled before he put you back in your place.

“Think I’ll just do this. Fuck your pretty face.”

You whimpered, spurring him on. He wanted to force himself inside you, punish your mouth for having the gall to speak to him the way you did. Make you cry from how full of him you were. Give you a sore throat so when you spoke to him again, you’d remember to speak with respect. But you wouldn’t be able to handle it. So he’d settle for defiling your sweet features, hold his cock against your cheek and rut like the animal he was.

“I ain’t gonna lay you out on my bed and take you nice and slow. I’m just gonna use you. ‘s what men like me do.”

He pulled away, giving you another opportunity to rethink this. “You can put your fucking clothes on and leave if you don’t like it.”

To his surprise, you stayed put on your knees. You shook your head before reaching up and rubbing your cheek against his cock. You let out a soft moan, eyes closed and your thighs pressed together tight. “No, no. I like it.”

“Fuckin’ slut,” he said, his hand back in your hair. He tugged at it and took his cock in his other hand. He tapped your lips with his tip, smearing the precum that leaked out of him. “You like an older man using your face like it’s a pussy?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He snorted, amused. “Never met a virgin slut before. Getting your face fucked before your pussy. Bet you’re wet from this.”

There was the sweet little whimper from you again. He wanted to hear more of it. Trap you underneath him and make you weep and cry and whimper as he split you in half.

“Let me see. Touch your pussy, show me your slick.”

You obeyed, spread your knees and touched yourself. Your hand glistened under the light of his bedroom, your wetness stretching between your fingers in strings. “Goddamn, would you look at that…” he said in a low rumble. “Rub it on my cock.”

Your hand trembled slightly and you stared at him with a blank look in your eyes. He guided your hand to his cock, withdrawing his hand when he’d brought you close enough so you could decide whether you wanted to follow his command. You touched your slickened hand to his cock, covering him in the evidence that you wanted this. Wanted him. You reached between your legs and brought more of yourself, eyes soft yet glazed with lust as you smeared yourself all over his length.

“Ask me for it.”

“Please,” you whined.

“Please, what?”

“P-please fuck my face. Sir.”

He returned his cock to your cheek, your wetness lubricating your face. Hand cradling his cock, he began to thrust. It wasnt much different from fucking his own fist. It was just skin. Not the tight velvety wetness of a pussy or a throat that would gag with his thickness. But your face was softer than his gun callused hands. Even better was your pretty face, looking up at him so adoringly… So full of desire.

He didn’t have to let his imagination do the trick now. Not when you were right in front of him, lending yourself for his use. And no imagination, no memory did justice to you. Your body. Scarred, but beautiful. Tits that filled his large hands, clean and styled hair, a belly that showed you were well fed. He wanted to lay you out on his bed and consume you. Take your tits in his mouth, grab handfuls of your ass, spread your cunt lips and lodge himself inside you. Give it to you hard so your thigh jiggled and you felt them ache as they rubbed against each other when you walked around in your pretty little dresses.

But as depraved as he was, he knew he shouldn’t be the first to take you. He’d have you just this once. Store your image in his head to get off with for as long as his dick worked. You acted all brave, but he couldn’t shake off that you were still inexperienced. The first time was meant to be good. The world was no longer normal, but you could have normality within the insular walls of Jackson.

Even this was wrong. Using you like this instead of making sweet love to you. But he hadn’t been that man in a long time. He was selfish and cruel. If there was no town, no community where everyone knew everyone and you still threw yourself at him, he would’ve taken you in all your holes with no hesitation. Ruined you, kept you until your body wasn’t of use and tossed you aside. But being in this semi-normal place had gotten its claws into him. Softened him up.

He grew closer to the edge embarrassingly quickly, the haze of carnal pleasure beginning to muffle the voices screaming in his head to let you go. He only barely noticed that you were touching yourself. Enjoying this treatment of you. That spurred him on. There was no stopping now.

You let out soft moans, your eyes never once leaving him. He struggled to get himself to focus. To check for any signs you didn’t want this. But all he saw was you on the precipice of pleasure. The world disappeared. His house, Jackson, the darkness that lay beyond. It was all him now. He felt lighter, like he would float out through the window and everything he’d ever been through would disappear. Every ounce of goodness quietened down, the last shreds of his morality discarded with your dress. He grunted and moaned your name as he kept fucking you. Your features morphed into nothingness. No longer a face, no longer a human woman. All he knew was the ache in his body, the tightness that begged to be released.

He slapped a hand against the wall as his thighs stiffened and every muscle in the vicinity of his cock tightened. He took himself back in his hand and stroked himself over your face. Once, twice, and thr– mid stroke, he growled and spilled on your face, coating your innocent features in sticky white cum. You flinched as the first stream hit, screwing your eyes shut. He wanted to make you look, see how he could defile you, show you that he wasn’t for you. Force you to confront what you’d allowed into your life so you’d run and never look back.

But all he could do was keep stroking as he came down from his high. It was unlike anything he’d had in the recent past. Not his imagination, not just his hand. A real human woman who wasn’t just a convenience. One who sought him out, stripped for him, and let him use her face like a toy.

He took a minute to collect his breath and let his senses return to him. His cock hung semi-hard outta his jeans, like it could go again if he willed it. Like it wasn’t almost six decades old. But he wasn’t too surprised. He could go again for the utterly debauched girl in front of him. Innocence eclipsed by milky white ropes of his cum. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hair and pulled at it. You yelped, but let him pull you up from the ground and drag you to the other side of the room.

He stopped you in front of his mirror, and slapped your hand off your pussy before replacing it with his. “Look at yourself. I fucking told you,” he said, forcing two thick fingers inside your cunt. You sucked him in with little resistance, your cunt leaking enough for him to force a third finger inside you. You gasped and tried to wriggle away, but he wasn’t having it. He was a fucking monster, but he would never leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially a young thing who’d never had anyone else before.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, his half hard cock begging him to go again when he felt the vibrations of your moans. “I warned you,” he whispered into your ear. “Fuckin’ warned you. Told you how starved I was. And you still taunted me. Look at you now!”

“Please… Please, Joel! Sir, please…”

“Fuckin’ slut. Maybe you ain’t really a virgin.”

“I am, I am, I promise. I wa–” you cut yourself off with a gasp as he pressed his thumb on your clit.

“What was that?”

You made some incoherent noises, too far gone to form words. Yet you managed to thrust onto his fingers and roll your hips like a real natural.

“Joel…”

“I know, pretty girl… I know,” he cooed, the softness in his voice contradicting how he’d used you just minutes prior. Contradicting the cum on your pretty little face.

“You gonna come for me? Give me another one after you came so sweetly on my fingers that day?”

There were no answers from you. Not even an acknowledgement that you heard him. Just whines and moans as you let him support your entire weight. Your head lolled back on his shoulder and your eyes rolled back into your skull as he fucked you stupid with just his fingers. Oh the things he could do with his cock… Reach deeper, take the virginity you’d held on to for so long. If he ever had you, he would never let go. He was too selfish a man to willingly lose a girl so precious after taking her cunt.

You gripped him like a vice, so tight he couldn't pry his fingers out. Something that vaguely sounded like his name spilled from your lips as you crumpled in his arms. Your pussy pulsated around you as he held you against him, unwilling to remove himself from you so quickly.

He withdrew your panties from his pocket– the fresh pair you took off in his fucking hallways like it was no big deal. He wiped your face with it the same way he cleaned up your cunt that day. Instead of tucking it in his pocket, he forced it into your hand.

“Put it on. Your fucking dress, too. Hope you learned you fucking lesson.”

As you put it on and scampered away naked into his hallways, he hoped it would be enough to scare you away. But he knew in his heart of hearts that he would always crave you like an addict craving a drink.

⌘

Fic update notifications over at @chocofountain-notifs

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theminecraftbee · 6 months

Text

"Well hello there Secret Keeper!" Scar says, chipper. "It's a bea-ut-i-ful day today here on the Secret Life server, and I'm here for my daily hearts for winning! I have to say, it is gorgeous today. Really a lot easier to keep the rain away without other players, what with sleeping through the night not being a problem at all! Did you know, by the way, that sleeping and rain are connected? I didn't until recently, but by golly, they sure are! Can you imagine? The world is full of so many strange things."

The Secret Keeper, being a big dumb stone statue, doesn't reply. Scar's beginning to think it's just rude. It sure replies whenever he hits the button, which is the first step in his morning routine these days. He's gotten better at dodging damage, really, even with the nearly infinite hearts! He's just not so good at dodging skeletons and creepers and such that he shouldn't top off every day.

He hits the button. He feels his health return to him. He gets a new task: Win Secret Life.

He snorts, a little bitter, to himself as he reads it and folds it into his pocket. "You know, I don't know if I'm lucky or unlucky that you're such a moron that you don't know what winning means. Your machine is broken."

No response, again, because the Secret Keeper is, as established, a big old dumb rock. Well, whatever. Besides, if he lingers on resentment and upset for too long, it might catch up with him! He's certainly let it catch up with him before. Why, a few days after he'd won, when he really had it sink in that he was for-real alone on a server covered in lightning burn marks and blood, he had a bit of a breakdown! There was sobbing, screaming, yelling at the world, the whole works! And when no one responded then, well--

"Did I just call you a moron? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that!" Scar says. "You know how I get sometimes. The world is beautiful and warm, but sometimes it gets a little hard to breathe around here! Now, where were we... oh, right! The trading post terraforming project! Now, we hit a bit of a snag the other day, what with the wandering traders I'd caught all sort of--dying--and all that, but luckily, more of them might show up any moment, and they really are vital to making the place feel alive and breathing. So today we're taking a break from that to build up some trees!"

He waves his arms like someone is listening. He'd like to imagine someone is. Grian told him he won--just because all the ghosts are quiet now doesn't mean they aren't there! And if that was a moment of temporary insanity, well, he probably--he needs to think it's not, is the thing! He absolutely needs to think it's not.

He hums and gathers more logs. His makeshift tree farms are pretty nice, if he does say so himself. He pauses as he hears distant howling and sighs. "I guess we will also be spending today cleaning up the wolf population! I swear, I have no idea what those people were thinking making a wolf spawner. A man takes a nap for a day and then the entire server is overrun with stupid white animals! And you know, I do hate having to cull the things, but, well, you know me. I've learned how to kill pretty well, I think, and really, dogs are easier to kill than people."

He grabs a sword from his chest and sharpens it. He keeps it perfectly clean so that there isn't too much blood on it. Good thing, too; most of the blood would probably be his. He's a bit clumsy, after all. He cuts his fingers on it all the time. No matter how well he bandages up his hands, he just keeps making them bleed, drip, drip, dripping blood on every path he walks down. No matter how hard he works to clean up his massive building projects, the little splatters of blood follow him, so he's sticking to dark colors where he can.

The flowers will probably show the blood, he thinks. The flowers and trees he's building. Hopefully, the blood doesn't stand out too much. It feels wrong, in a world where there are no bodies.

He stands up. He heads in the direction of today's pack of unwanted pests. He sighs. "You know, I know your question is, well gosh, Scar! All the previous winners died. When are you going to finish it off and kill yourself? And wow, that's a pretty dark question. You should be ashamed of yourself for asking, really." He laughs. It's not funny. Who cares.

Instead, he shakes his head.

"And, well, you have to understand. I'm not done building yet! I can make my base so much nicer looking! And besides, you're still handing me hearts. If I get hurt, I can just come back and get more from you! If you want to die, you have to kill me yourself. You fucking cowards!"

No response.

He sighs. "Well, that's enough of that for today. Sorry, I'm feeling kind of morose. It's all this sunshine! Can't be good for a man. Did you know populated servers rain more often than unpopulated ones? It's true! It's because people don't sleep enough. But here I am, getting all the sleep I need. Now, time to go kill some dogs and build some trees! I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon, can you?"

His hands hurt. He ignores it. He ignores a lot of hurt, these days. It's not like it's hard.

#secret life smp #goodtimeswithscar #a bee fic #implied/referenced suicide #implied/referenced self harm #SO UH. HOW ABOUT THAT SCAR NOT DYING IN THE END NONSENSE HUH.#trying to write this all very much in scar's voice was fun. dark premise. goofy guy. result: this.#also i DO love occasionally giving a character who otherwise wouldn't exactly ONE precision swear-word. very fun.

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permanentswaps · 2 months

Text

Like Father Like Son Pt.2

Read the original from @exploratorytfs here.

It's been three years since that bizarre twist of fate turned my life upside down, or should I say, right side up. Looking back now, I can't help but smirk at the irony of it all. I won't tell my dad (yeah, I definitely think of him as my dad now), but the truth is, the body swap wasn't entirely an accident.

I just wanted to give him a taste of my carefree lifestyle, show him that growing up and being mature isn’t all it's cracked up to be. So, I went online and found a way for us to swap.

I never meant for it to be permanent. I mean, who would want to stay in someone else's body forever? But the moment I found myself in his shoes, staring at the world through his eyes, I knew I had hit the jackpot. His body, his life—it all felt like a perfect fit.

It had only been a day, but I didn’t want to ever leave. What was I gonna do now? I couldn't imagine going back to my old life, to the mundane routine and endless expectations. No, this was where I belonged. But how could I make it permanent without causing even more chaos?

Surprisingly, my dad seemed content in my old body, reveling in the responsibility of it all. He didn't seem eager to find a way to swap back, and I couldn't help but gloat inwardly. It was almost too easy—I had traded up in every possible way.

Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, a surge of excitement coursed through me. The chiseled jawline, the toned, youthful physique, the effortless charm—it was like I had been upgraded to the deluxe model. And as much as I tried to suppress it, I couldn't help but revel in the undeniable satisfaction of it all.

So when my dad brought up the idea of making the swap permanent, I didn't hesitate. "Hell yeah, Dad," I replied with a smirk, savoring the taste of victory.

We hashed out the details over dinner, but in my mind, it was already a done deal. And just like that, the deal was sealed. Sure, there are moments when I feel a twinge of guilt for keeping my dad's body, but then I remembered how much better I look in it, and the guilt just turned to horniness. After all, who wouldn’t want to be me.

Shortly thereafter, I signed a modeling contract – of course, who wouldn’t wanna see a body like this? Every photoshoot, every runway strut, only served to reinforce my belief that I had made the right choice.

My dad was so excited for me and gave me his sports car as a present for that and my birthday. He told me to be careful with it like the responsible guy he is. I promised him I would be, but I speed down the highway blasting music. After all, a hot young jock like me has to do that! … But I'll let him think he's having a good influence on me.

Through my modeling gig, I met my boyfriend James. He embodied everything I found irresistible: tall, dark, and undeniably handsome. What intrigued me even more was that he had no clue this body wasn't originally mine. That really turned me on.

Even though I'm used to living this life by now and fully think of myself as Nathan, I still get a thrill every time he calls me by my name. Just last week, we were having a night of passionate sex. As he pressed me down onto the bed in missionary, he thrust back and forth in slow. deep strokes.

Rubbing his right thumb in circles around my left nipple, he leaned down to kiss me. I looked up at him in awe. Smirking back had me he said in a husky voice, “I love you Nathan.”

Before I knew it, I was shooting my load across his thick, muscular chest.

Mixed in with the pleasure, I had to laugh to myself. In a way, I got what I wanted. Nathan (or at least his body) definitely is living his youth now.

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leclewi · 3 months

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┊charles helping his grumpy girlfriend.

↝ hi, lovess! my first time writing here 🥹 i’m so excited. i hated this too much, it’s just a little scrap i wrote because i was bored, but i promise to bring something better !! hope you like it, kisses !

the white sheets rustled as your sleepy body shifted on the bed. your hair sticking to the back of your neck from sweat, the room hot, the sheets on your legs uncomfortable.

your arms stretched to the other side of the bed, hoping to find charles there, to find your comfort in the form of a person, but he wasn't there. your eyes slowly opened, slowly getting used to the warm afternoon light and its heat.

your 30 minute nap turned into an hour, the cold cloudy sky you left behind when you closed your eyes were left behind and now everything was warm, bright and warm.

you got up, looking around the room for charles but couldn't find it. he wasn't. the last memory you had was kissing his face, joking and annoying him before going to sleep.

in addition to the memory with charles, what was left behind was his good humor. you were sweating, your hair sticking to your neck as you walked around the house feeling your body tired and heavy. the worst way to wake up after a nap.

when you arrived in the living room, you saw your boyfriend's racing simulator on, his back to you. he was adjusting the camera while waiting for the race to start, he was laughing and talking to his teammates on his headphone.

“hi, love” he said when your presence was noticed, due to your shuffling steps. blessed heat.

he turned his head to you, finding your form grumpy, not a smile on your face. “hi” you whispered, stopping behind his chair, resting your body on the material.

charles knew you well enough to know how you were doing, it sucked sometimes. “let me guess….” be asked, his hand coming to your waist, stroking it, as he looked at you with his green eyes. “hot in there?” he said. you nodded your head and let out a small groan, your eyes stung as you scratched them. a horrible feeling, making your mood even worse.

charles smiled, the perfect smile that made his days better. “poor thing” he whispered, teasing you. his hands wrapped around your waist, slowly pulling you to his lap. he turned the camera of the sim off and looked at you. “you left me to sleep and you are grumpy? really?” he said teasing as he kissed your cheek. you rolled your eyes and laid your head on your chest.

“well, i left you for a good, comfy, amazing nap, but i woke up from a horrible, hot and sweating one.” you whispered groaning. “I hate this.” you complained like a little kid, while snuggling on his chest.

he chuckled and ruffled your hair. “my bad” he said, smirking. “that’s what happens when you trade your boyfriend for sleeping.” he said shrugging.

charles could be a pain in the ass when he wanted to be, and right now he wanted to be. his smirk would be much prettier if it wasn’t for his teasing while you were still in a dying sleepy mood.

“bla bla bla, you had the chance to sleep with me, but you preferred to lose on the sim” you said and looked at him, your neck in a free way for his lips.

he took the chance and leaned down, leaving little kisses on your skin. “at least i’m not sweat, hot and grumpy. and excuse me, i won something.” he said teasing and proud of himself.

he knew what to make to feel you better, he knew you too well. his lips founded their way of your skin, going to your neck to your jaw. the shivers that was starting to make you feel made your body more alert, warning the sleep away. making you feel better.

his lips had a smile when he didn’t heard your voice and complains anymore, he knew his effect. “wake up” he whispered while he left his trail of kisses, you smiled faintly and closed your eyes.

“wake up, babeeee” he whispered annoying you and smirking, his hands going to your belly disguised it, starting to tickle you.

and it went like that. charles having his effect on you like countless times, the grumpiness went away when he kissed you, when his hands tickled you, when his breath had hit yours, when he chuckled along you.

“you are mean” you say after escaping his lap after the tickle session, already better and no more grumpy.

“well, at least i get to see your pretty smile again.” he said proud of himself, looking back to his sim. “grumpiness doesn’t match you, amour. your pretty smile does.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #leclewi #16 #ferrari #imagines #formula one imagines

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barcaatthemoon · 3 months

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caught || jenni hermoso x reader ||

you and jenni get caught breaking one the team's "no hotel sex" rule.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead

jenni was going to be the death of you. nobody could know about the two of you, especially not alexia. it was easier to sneak around after trading room assignments to bunk with jenni, but you had indirectly put yourself directly next to alexia's room. you knew that alexia and jenni were on good terms after their breakup, but you also knew that she'd probably flip shit if she found out the two of you were together.

alexia had always been like a big sister to you. she had taken you under her wing whenever the two of you were growing up together. you were just as much a part of her family as her actual sister. alexia and alba had looked out for you like nobody else was willing to. they saw past your troublesome last name and turbulent family life, and for that, you'd never be able to repay her. and you knew that sleeping with her ex was not a good start.

"jenni, stop," you hissed as you pushed jenni away from you. the two of you had been away from each other for quite some time. jenni's transfer to pachuca had come as a bit of a shock to you, despite her having brought it up. the two of you hadn't been serious then, but jenni had confessed that she loved you enough to make the distance work.

"why? i have waited so long to have you in my arms again. must you be so cruel as to make me wait even longer?" jenni asked dramatically. you rolled your eyes as you pulled yourself out of her grip. it was hard on you too, but it would be even harder for you if alexia heard the two of you through the walls.

"i know that look in your eyes jenni. we have to be quiet, and that look means nothing but trouble." you understood now why alexia had a tendency to be a bit stressed. jenni may have been older than you, but the woman was a lot more carefree than you were capable of. the team occasionally teased you about it, claiming that you could be worse than alexia was about being so strict.

"relax, mi amor, there's no reason for you to be so wound up," jenni told you. she sat up on her knees on the bed in front of you. you sighed longingly as she pulled her shirt off and tossed it onto the ground. "see? you want me too, so please just come back over here."

"jenni, you have to keep your hands to yourself," you told her. she nodded as she sat back on the bed. you didn't trust her to keep her word, but you still came over and joined her on her bed.

impressively, jenni did manage to keep her word. you had made her promise you to keep her hands to herself, but had said absolutely nothing about her mouth. jenni's mouth littered kisses and little bites all over your neck. you were in the process of telling her to back away a bit when a moan replaced the words on the tip of your tongue. that noise ended up being the catalyst to jenni completely losing her composure.

she pinned you down onto the bed, grinding herself against your thigh as she pushed the bottom of your shirt up. you could feel the heat from jenni's core against your thigh as she started to get herself off. jenni wouldn't finish that way, but she knew how easily it worked you up to know how turned on jenni was. you wanted to pretend that it wasn't working, but jenni knew better.

"i want to feel you," jenni said, her lips pressed against yours. you pushed her off of your body just enough to allow your clothes to easily come off. jenni could have ripped them off of you, you were certain of it, but that would have raised a lot of questions. you had practice later in the afternoon and would need your kit then.

jenni let out an appreciative hum as her eyes settled on your body. she took in every inch of bare skin and defined muscle. her hands groped at your breasts as her lips met yours in one more heated kiss. after the kiss was broken, jenni spread open your legs and settled in between them.

"i've wanted this for so long," jenni said as she placed a couple of playful bites to the inside of your thighs. you jumped at the sensation with small yelps. jenni was smirking as she ran her fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness from your entrance. jenni withdrew her finger and pushed it past her lips to suck your arousal off of it.

"don't tease, and i believe that i said to keep your hands to yourself," you chastised. jenni took that as a challenge as she put her hands behind her back. you knew that jenni didn't need her hands, and if anything, she'd be even more ruthless with you for the sass. jenni didn't take your brattiness lightly, but you had never really gone far enough to warrant any sort of punishment before.

"you can cover your own mouth then," jenni said smugly. you knew from the new and very dangerous look in her eye that you were fucked. jenni was going to have you screaming out her name, and she was highly unlikely to stop until you were actually doing so.

jenni opted out of any softness or teasing, instead choosing to get right to things by running her tongue against your clit. she knew that even without her hands, she could have you cumming within minutes. it was unfair sometimes how easily jenni hid her dominance in the bedroom around people. you had gone into the relationship expecting her to be all smiles and jokes like she was everywhere else, only to be fucked within an inch of your sanity when you started hooking up with each other.

"you taste so good, mi amor," jenni told you. the small break was not nearly enough for you to collect your bearings. jenni's tongue work had your head spinning in the same little circles it was making. your hips bucked wildly as you ground yourself against jenni's mouth. every bit of the situation made you feel a little pathetic, but you knew that jenni loved it. she loved hearing the breathy little noises that you made as the air was forced out of your lungs. she loved the way that you rode her face with such a devout desperation.

"jenni, please. jenni, i'm gonna cum. jenni!" you were screaming at the top of your lungs. there was no way that alexia and mapi didn't both hear you through the walls. there was also no way that they didn't know exactly what was going on. you were doubtful that the entire floor didn't just find out you and jenni were together from that. even jenni looked a little sheepish when she rose up from between your legs. "fuck."

"hey, don't worry mi vida, it's okay," jenni muttered as she moved to lay beside you. she pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly until the two of you were interrupted by loud knocking. jenni was wearing the most clothing, so she was the one to go over to the door while you got yourself redressed. "ale, what a surprise. can i do something for you, capitana?"

"where is (y/n)?" alexia asked. you scrambled to finish putting on your clothes before opening up the door the rest of the way. alexia looked between the two of you, a slight frown on her face.

"what's the matter ale?" you asked. alexia reached out and grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt, which definitely wasn't one that belonged to you. "ale, i can explain."

"don't worry, there is nothing to explain, i understand what is going on here. that is why jenni has to pack her things and go room with mapi for the rest of camp. you both know the rules, and that we have them for a reason." alexia sent an accusatory glare towards jenni. you had heard rumors about how the rule had been put in place, and as you looked between the exes, you realized that they were true.

"i'll see you later mi amor," jenni said as she pressed a kiss to your cheek. you sighed as you watched her pack up her things. alexia stood by the door until jenni was gone before she came fully inside and set her bag on the bed where your things were laying.

"hey, that one's mine!" you argued. alexia sent you a knowing look, having once been in your position before. "fine, this one smells like jenni anyway."

"i'm sure it smells like a lot of things," alexia grumbled under her breath.

#jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso smut #jenni hermoso imagine #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut #minors do not interact

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destourtereaux · 10 months

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just a little bit of hope - peeta mellark x fem!reader

⤷ summary: with katniss and gale both gone, peeta steps in as an unlikely hunting partner for y/n. ⤷ wc: 2.6k ⤷ requested? yes. see request here. ⤷ follow @lovebirdupdates and turn on notifs to be on my 'taglist'!

⤷ a/n: two things - one, peeta has dimples here, it's just how i imagine him, so please bear with me; two, pretend gale's father is alive please, i didn't think our girl would be able to support two families, no matter how strong she is.

___

The day is horridly warm, exacerbated by a heavy humidity. As you wake, hot air suffocates your surroundings, and the sun glares through the window, hung on a span of blue sky. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, your bare feet find the ground, then immediately retract. The floor is burning hot, baked by the sun. You grit your teeth and force your feet back onto the wood, ignoring the searing heat. You have things to do.

You make a bowl of porridge, watery, but edible. You drink half, and leave the rest for your mother. Your father is off to the mines already, his boots absent. You get dressed, pulling on the prettiest dress you own. You're ready. Or, as ready as one can be.

Today, there will be no hunting with Katniss and Gale, no trading at the Hob. Today, there is only the reaping.

___

You spot Katniss at the edge of the square, gripping her sister's hand. Your friend looks nothing like she normally does. Gone are the boots and hunting jacket, replaced by a simple blouse tucked into a modest skirt. You nod grimly at her; neither of you feels like smiling.

Gale is over on the other side of the square, across from the stage they've set up. Your eyes meet, and he mouths "good luck".

After a few minutes of the routine announcements, Haymitch is introduced, then Effie. By now, the crowd has settled into an air of grimness, despite the clear blue sky overhead.

You don't hear Effie's jokes, and nobody laughs. She finally stops smiling, looking extremely awkward – you almost feel bad for her. Almost.

Then, she sticks her hand in the ball of names, each carrying a life, and pulls one out. Her smile is back on her face when she announces, "Without further ado, our female tribute is: Katniss Everdeen!"

You freeze, repeating her words in your head as if hoping they'd sound different. Your oldest friend – determined, brave Katniss, given a death sentence.

But Effie doesn't wait. Her next words are just as devastating. "And for our male tribute: Gale Hawthorne! Come on up now, dear, don't be shy."

Peacekeepers erupt through the crowd, grabbing your two best friends in the entire world by the shoulders, and forcing them up to the stage. Katniss whips her head around, looking at you with pleading eyes. You know what she's asking for.

"I'll take care of her, Katniss. I won't let her die. And you can't let yourself die, okay? Promise me. Katniss! Promise me!"

Your last words are hysterical, but ironically, Katniss is not. Having heard your commitment to Prim, she is satisfied. She yanks her arms free of the Peacekeepers and walks by herself, her head held high and her face serene.

You grab Prim's hand. Her whole body is shaking, wracked with sobs. You don't hear Effie's last words, but you know what they are.

"May the odds be ever in your favor."

___

It's been two weeks since the reaping which stole your best friends. It's shocking how quickly you fell back into routine, as if nothing has even changed. The only indicator of their absence is an added part of your day: splitting your earnings between your family and Prim's.

There are now double the mouths to feed, so you spend double the hours in the forest hunting. Villagers are sympathetic – that may be the only reason you're all still alive. They love Prim, and they trust you. Everything you hunt manages to be traded.

But still, you're cracking. It's just too much, and you don't know if it'll ever get better. You have no idea what Katniss and Gale are going through right now, and you don't let yourself think of them. It would break your heart.

___

Peeta Mellark has always been observant. His teachers told his parents this, back when he was a child. It's this trait that makes him notice you. The girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, killing herself day after day to provide for not one, but two whole families.

He doesn't understand how no one else sees it. But maybe they do – it's just that no one in District 12 is really in a position to do anything about it. Still, the fact remains that you're close to breaking. You can't keep doing this alone.

Peeta Mellark has never been brave. His mother yells at him, beats him, and he takes it. He has never talked back to teachers, or dared disobey the Peacekeepers. So when he offers to hunt with you, he surprises even himself.

"What?"

"I'm Peeta Mellark. We were in the same class, and my parents run the bakery. I was wondering if I'd be able to hunt with you?"

So you weren't hallucinating. The baker's son – a boy you didn't think could kill a fly – had just asked to hunt with you. Your shock translates into a small laugh, not that anything about the situation is funny, really. Hurt flashes in Peeta's eyes, and you quickly backtrack.

"I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Y/N L/N, I know who you are. I just didn't think you'd be the hunting type," you explain. Because you're gentle, and kind, and I've never seen you hurt anyone, with your words or physically. But you don't add that last part.

"I've only ever hunted with Katniss and Gale, you must know them, they were reaped this year." Your voice cracks a bit with those last words, and Peeta acknowledges the fact with a nod. His hand twitches; he wants to pat you on the back, or grip your shoulder, anything to stop the melancholy leaking into your eyes, but he doesn't.

"But you're welcome to join me," you end with a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes.

___

The new partnership starts early the following day. You meet a groggy Peeta near his home, and the two of you begin the walk to the Meadow.

You hear no electrical hum from the fencing, which means it's safe to touch, and you guide Peeta across the boundary which separates the Seam from the forest. This is all illegal, you know, but you're too used to it to even notice. Peeta, on the other hand, feels an exhilarating sense of rebellion as he crosses the barbed wire, following your figure into the woods.

"You've never hunted before, have you?" you probe, although it's more of a confirmation than an actual question.

Peeta nods. "But I'm a quick learner. And I won't get in your way, I promise."

You smile, a genuine one this time. "We'll see about that, Mellark."

Over the next hour, you go over all the traps you had set from the day before, collecting from Katniss and Gale's traps as well. True to his word, Peeta picks it up quickly, and even has a great eye for camouflaging the traps. This becomes his task, using grass and twigs and flowers as his medium, painting a deceptive scene which looks safe and welcoming to the many squirrels and rabbits in these parts.

You also start him on foraging. Only one type of berry is poisonous in the Meadow, and it's easy to identify. You make sure he's clear on which to avoid, and leave him to it, while you head to the hollowed out tree where you've hidden your knives. The familiar sight of Katniss' bow and arrows within the trunk brings a pang in your heart. You leave them nestled within and retrieve only your daggers. You were never a good archer.

Another hour passes, and you return to Peeta with a deer. You're happier than you have been in weeks – this will be enough for almost a week's worth of food. Peeta is not empty-handed either, he has two buckets of progress, one filled with strawberries, the other with raspberries. He gives you a soft smile – he has dimples, you think. He then immediately turns a faint shade of green, having noticed the dead deer.

You're seized with the desire to laugh, "Why'd you offer to hunt with me if you get queasy from the sight of game?"

He looks at you with an indignant pout, and you can't stop the giggle that tumbles out, then the full on laughter.

"I'm not like this with all game, just, you know, the larger animals. I can look at dead squirrels just fine – stop laughing!"

Making your way back, within the District, you stop just outside of the fence to split your gatherings.

"Take the squirrels and rabbits, and the bucket of raspberries. I'll keep the deer and trade the strawberries with the mayor," you offer.

"No, you take it all," he crosses the barrier carrying the buckets, and you follow after him, shaking your head.

"I can't, Peeta. That wouldn't be right. This is a fair split."

"I never said I wanted to keep what we hunt. Only that I wanted to hunt with you, Y/N. Take it. I know you need it more than I do. I'll see you next weekend?"

And with that, he pops a strawberry in his mouth, smiling at the sweetness, and walks away.

You're left with your mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.

___

The next morning, you show up at the bakery. His bakery. You earned a few dollars from selling your strawberries to the mayor, and you figure that if Peeta won't take anything, you should buy from him instead.

A few dollars is enough for two loaves of good bread, and so you head to the bread aisle. But your gaze catches on the beautiful cakes on display, decorated with multi-colored icing and swirling script written in melted chocolate.

"I did those," comes a voice from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you see Peeta himself, looking at the cakes with fondness and a bit of pride.

"You did what?"

"The cakes. I decorated them. My mom bakes, but I decorate. I like doing it – it's like painting, just on a different canvas."

"They're really lovely. You have a talent for it," you confirm, "I bet that's why you were so good at hiding traps yesterday. You can see nature's patterns."

He gives you a soft smile in return, and you can see the dimples again. They're adorable, you think. I want to see them every day.

He gives a small cough, looking at you questioningly.

You startle, and blush a deep crimson. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I'm here to buy bread. Two loaves," you say as you lower your head to stare down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes.

It's only when you hear a chuckle that you lift your head back up. Peeta's eyes are sparkling, and his dimples are clear as ever.

"I'll give you three."

___

Two months after the reaping, your partnership with Peeta is still going strong. Every Saturday, the two of you head to the woods, and spend half the day fishing, gathering, and hunting. Originally silent company has evolved into true friendship, with witty banter, fleeting touches, and shared smiles.

You have come to know Peeta Mellark. He isn't just the baker's son, the one who decorates cakes and hates seeing dead animals. He's the boy who saved you, when no one even knew that you needed saving.

Day after day, he has shown up, offering kindness, companionship, and warmth, without expecting anything in return. You care about him more than you thought you could ever care about someone who wasn't family. You care about his messy blond hair, and you care about his broad shoulders. You care about his blue eyes which sparkle when he tells a joke, and his beautiful heart which leads him to give the occasional customer an extra free loaf. Most of all, you care about his dimples, which come out when he smiles at you. You care so much about him, that it scares you.

And Peeta cares about you. He cares about your hands, calloused but nimble, lethal when holding onto your twin daggers. He cares about your face, how it glows when you laugh at his jokes in the woods, but dims a bit when you're back in the district. He cares about your hair, always tied in a ponytail when in the Meadow, but left to flow freely down your shoulders when hunting's over. Most of all, he cares about your smile, which comes out when Prim thanks you week after week for your help, and forces you to take bottles of goat milk and pet Buttercup. He cares so much about you, that it scares him.

___

This hunting day, Peeta comes with news from the Capitol. A few weeks back, he started giving you updates on the Games, after you told him that you couldn't stomach the thought of watching your friends fight to the death.

"Y/N! Good news!" he greets, exiting the bakery. As the two of you begin your walk, he adds, "I'll tell you when we get to the Meadow."

"You're insufferable, Mellark. You can't just hook me like that, and not tell me what it is."

Peeta doesn't answer, so you start walking twice as fast, ushering him toward the edge of the Seam so you could figure out what exactly he wanted to tell you.

Once in the grassy plains of the Meadow, between the forest and the fence, you turn back to the boy, the impatience evident in your face.

"Tell me, Peeta, or I swear I'll –"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, "but it's not really good news, per se. It's just a little bit of hope."

You nod, urging him to continue.

"It's about the Games. About Katniss and Gale."

The last traces of your smile fade. Concern is etched onto your face, and your eyebrows scrunch up, your jaw tightens.

Noticing this, Peeta pulls you in by the waist, so that your head lands on his shoulder. "It's good news, Y/N. Don't look so defeated. They're both still alive, and they're fighting."

"But at least one of them won't be coming back," you whisper into his neck, so quietly you wonder if he even heard. But Peeta always hears you.

"Y/N. That's the news. They could both come back. Caesar Flickerman has just announced that they will be changing the rules this year – allowing two victors of the Games, provided they're tributes from the same district!"

You look up at him in awe. A change to the Games. Katniss and Gale, not one or the other. Both could win. Both could come back.

You choke down a sob, staring at Peeta's brilliant smile and those mesmerizing dimples. And before you can process what you're doing, you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his in a bout of bravery.

Peeta's frozen for a second, before he begins to reciprocate the kiss in earnest. He pulls you in, one hand holding your neck and the other wrapped around your torso, pressing himself impossibly closer. He tastes like icing and strawberries, and you can smell the comforting scent of warm bread.

The kiss ends far too quickly for your liking, and you're suddenly impossibly shy, all bravado gone. You lower your eyes so you won't have to meet his eyes, but realize that you're practically sitting on his lap, having moved there at some point during the kiss. This observation brings a flaming blush onto your cheeks, and you scramble to move away, but you're held in place by Peeta's arms, forming an iron-tight cage around your figure.

He brings a hand to your chin, lifting it up, and kisses you again, more gently this time.

"Don't go all shy on me now, Y/L/N," he teases, and holds the back of his hand against your forehead, as if feeling for a fever. "You're burning up, darling."

"You know damn well that's not a fever–", you start, but you're cut off by his laughter, and once again distracted by those dimples of his.

Maybe Peeta was right. Maybe there is just a little bit of hope left for you.

___

interested in other works of mine? see my masterlist!

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grimesthinker · 11 months

Note

Stepdad!rick getting all jealous when you have a boy over and you have to try your hardest to bite back your smile at his attitude.

nsfw ˑ ੈ ♡‧₊˚ edging, fingering, condescending rick (kinda)

"you expectin' someone?" rick lifts a brow as he makes his way down the stairs, gesturing to the way you keep biting your lip and peeking out of the window.

"maybe." you smooth out your dress and turn to him. "i invited a boy over for dinner. hope you don't mind." your tone is sweet, polite. but rick knows you better than that. he can see through the princess exterior and can tell when you're taunting him.

he makes a face and you can tell he's fighting the urge to say more. if your mother wasn't standing in the kitchen chopping vegetables, he'd tell you to drop the attitude. his eyes drop down to your pretty, white, ruffly dress. it stops just above your knees. he remembers you trading a girl at hilltop for it, giving her a few seeds in return. he tears his eyes from your body, and goes to make conversation with your mother.

a few moments later, a knock comes at the door, and your eyes light up as you answer it. a bright eyed boy your age stands there, and you smile and invite him in. he hasn't been in alexandria long, so you politely introduce him to your mother and rick.

"this is my mom," she smiles politely. "and this is my... step father." rick bites back a chuckle at that.

"rick." he sticks his calloused hand out and the boy nervously takes it. rick grips too hard and the boy winces. rick smiles. what an ass.

dinner goes well. that is, if you don't count the way rick makes a face and fights the urge to roll his eyes at everything the boy says. although he was sweet and talkative enough, your attention wasn't even on him. it was on rick and his hands. and his jaw. and his eyes. he grips his glass a bit too hard when the boy says something about how pretty your dress is, and you squeeze your thighs together. you snap out of your thoughts, the ones about how good rick's big fingers would feel inside of you right now, and smile kindly.

the boy thanks your mother for dinner and you silently scold yourself for not being as into him as you should be. he's kind, really. but you're bored. as he prepares to go home himself, you speak by the door and say your goodbyes. you know rick is watching. that's why you place a sweet, simple kiss on the boy's lips.

a moment later, your mother says she has a headache and goes to bed early. you tell her you'll finish cleaning up. she kisses her boyfriend goodnight and goes upstairs. you turn the hot water on and begin to rinse a plate off. now that you're alone with rick, your breaths are shallow and you don't even dare to look back at him.

"he was nice, huh?" his voice isn't sincere. you know that. he takes a plate and gently places it in the sink. you don't even look at him. he doesn't like that, clearly, because he turns off the water and stands close to you now, nearly towering over you.

"look at me." you don't dare to disobey anymore than you already have. you turn your head and look up at him. your eyelashes flutter. you chew on your bottom lip.

"had so much attitude earlier, princess. what happened?" his hand gently smooths your hair from your face. his thumb traces your bottom lip.

"i.....well...." you stammer. he grips your hips and turns you around so you're pressed against the kitchen sink. your eyes widen. a deer caught in headlights.

"you think he'd treat you like this?" he whispers into your ear. he traps you against the counter, his hand running up your thigh. you don't answer. his hand forcefully spreads your legs and he traces a finger along your already soaked panties. you whimper. "you think he could make you come like i can?" he laughs. it makes you shudder. "answer me, doll."

"no..i'm sorry..i...." you stumble and he lifts your hips so your ass is on the counter. he swiftly moves your panties to the side and slips two fingers inside your cunt, making you gasp. you're so wet already, he hisses through his teeth. you always do this. taunt him when others are around and then immediately succumb to him once you're alone. you can't help it. sure, you can be a brat. you both know that. but then he gets like this, and you want nothing more than to be a good girl for him.

you become a teary eyed, whimpering mess as his fingers fuck you. he watches the way your pretty lips part and hips buck slightly. "shut up." he whispers against your lips. tears stream down your face at that. "sweetheart," he coos and kisses your wobbly lips. "don't wanna wake her up, do we?"

you shake your head and tension builds in your tummy. your breath catches and when you're about to shakily ask for permission to come, he pulls out. you cry out at the loss of contact and he grips your thigh hard. "you should've thought about that when you invited that little boy over."

#the walking dead #rick grimes ⛥*:･#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #andrew lincoln #rick grimes imagine

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blakeswritingimagines · 3 months

Text

This Love

Summary: Lovesick! Aegon and his pregnant partner fight and make up.

Word count: 3.6k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Aegon pursued his lips before clicking his tongue as he brought his wine closer to his lips taking a long sip, listening to your angry rambling which had become common with how far along in the pregnancy you were at least that's what he was told but simply nodded along having learned if he said otherwise you apparently grew annoyed that he didn't share the same thoughts and feelings as you even though you were the only one that was pregnant "Yes darling your right I'm sure." "You don't care at all. You never do." You said, tears welling as you spoke. "What was our conversation earlier, exactly? All you can think about are your precious whores, aren't you? You'd kill me in an instant if it would give you an extra." You moved closer to Aegon. Your eyes were bloodshot, but you continued on. "Well, go on- kill me. I'm nothing to you, Aegon. I am nothing to you. I'm just a womb for your children."

Aegon stood and watched as you neared closer slowly but surely to him before he gently wrapped his arms around your swollen body and held you close as he quietly shushed you, letting out a sigh knowing he couldn't find anything right to say to you when your emotions ran higher like most days since you had become pregnant but softly spoke in your ear "I care about you as much as I do Sunfrye, you know that nor have I ever said you care about your something else more, it's difficult saying anything to you right now because no matter what I'm wrong and I'm simply trying not to annoy you further. But if it's such a big deal then I'll speak to whoever is bothering you and deal with it." Rolling your eyes at his words "Don't lie to me, Aegon. I can see it in your eyes, the way you look at me with indifference. You are disgusted by me, Aegon!" You broke from his embrace and took several shaky steps backward. "I am nothing to you! To anyone! I am just a worthless womb, aren't I?" You shouted with a sob.

Aegon felt his stomach turn as he watched you and felt awful that he couldn't help you any better than he could, slowly walking closer to you as he slowly held his hands out but didn't touch you as he shook his head and spoke with certainty "I'm not disgusted by you dear, nor are you just a womb to anyone I promise, I've been letting you help rule everything by my side granted I've taken over but it's just because your pregnant and once the babe is here you'll come back and help me won't you? We'll take care of our babe and our people together." "You're just trying to placate me. You'll discard me once the child is delivered, won't you? You'll discard me once I'm no longer useful to you, won't you? Admit it! You'll discard me and you'll find some new pregnant wench to fill my spot!" You shouted with an unhinged ferocity.

Aegon sighed as he listened to you shout at him which was starting to become normal to him but gripped your jaw in his hand still trying to be as gentle as he could but forced you to make eye contact with him as he spoke no longer in the mood to hear your thoughts about what you figured he might do once the babe was born "Knock it off right now, I married you and I am having a babe with you I have no plans or desires to find someone else you are it for me and I promise whoever has been filling your head with such things will be answering to me and begging for their life if they do this again" Knowing people in court and the servants around the castle gossiped heavily, especially about himself. "Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!" You tightly closed your eyes and began to repeat over and over, your voice growing louder with each passing word. "Don't lie to me, Aegon! I know the way you truly feel! You'll trade me in like a horse, won't you? You'll trade me in for a younger girl; one with less stretch marks and a tighter womb! Admit it!"

Aegon listened to you insult him by calling him a liar but simply leaned closer as he let his hands trail up and down your swollen body squeezing every once in a while, loving how much more plump you had become since being pregnant but learned the hard way not to say it that way to you but grinned to himself as he spoke and looked into your dark brown eyes with his violet ones "You are still young and just as gorgeous as when we were met, and I love your stretch marks and tracing them when you let me" Leaning closer as he whispered "and your still tight yourself I've noticed when we have sex." "Stop trying to placate me." You spat at Aegon, slapping his hand away. "You've probably already found some other wench, I'm sure. I mean, when I'm not around all the time you must be so tempted to cheat. To find yourself a new woman. You are not faithful to me, Aegon! I know it! I need only look at your eyes to see the lust bubbling beneath the surface!"

Aegon pulled his hands away but rested them beside you still as he nodded his head along to your words as he pretended to think about it before looking at you once more and smiling to himself remembering what he did when you weren't around to help him when he got excited and horny but raised a brow at you as he playfully tilted his head "Or and do hear me out on this, I simply get want you when the lust is too much I adore having you all to myself and when your not around i've learned how to deal with it myself since nobody could ever compare to you" Knowing he only ever really looked at you whenever even when you walked into the room or even during court as he was the king, he couldn't easily take his eyes off of you and often had to deal with his younger brother Aemond tell him how lovesick he looked for you since meeting you. You laughed humorlessly before walking towards a nearby divan and plopping down on it. "I am supposed to believe that, then? You expect me to believe that your lust can be satisfied by your own hands? How stupid do you think I am?"

Aegon watched you closely before walking closer to you and even doing the unthinkable that no king ever really did for anyone and kneeled down beside you instead of sitting next to you since you had made it clear you didn't want his touch right now and chuckled "I never said it satisfied me but what am I to do when you're not around or do not want sex? when we first married you had asked me to not hurt you and I'm doing everything I can not to even now a year later... but I do not know what else to do to help you understand that." Scoffing lightly before you spoke. "So, then what do you do to satisfy your urges? Do you use your hands, like a normal man does?" You asked, sarcastically. "Or do you find another woman? It wouldn't surprise me, to be honest. You were quite the womanizer before our betrothal. Which one is it, Aegon? I wish to know." You said before you turned your head to face him and looked directly into Aegon's eyes.

Aegon clasped his hands together as he looked up at you before rolling his eyes then sighed before licking his lips as he looked into your eyes and slowly nodded his head as he spoke honestly "I have thought about going back to the streets of Slik but I haven't you can even ask... I do it myself especially since during most of this pregnancy you don't want to be touched unless you want it and we've only had sex when you wanted it" Knowing how much he used and slept around with women and the servant girls since he had kids before you two got together but had been doing his best to stop for you even with as much as you slapped it back in his face. "How am I supposed to trust you, Aegon? Do you think I'm so stupid? You could cheat right now and I wouldn't be able to do anything to stop you. You have all the power. You know how I feel about your past. What if one of them became pregnant? What if you sired a bastard with some random woman? Admit it! Even if you did father a bastard, you wouldn't tell me. You'd cover it up! You'd lie to me, wouldn't you!" He demanded.

Aegon listened to you and had heard enough even from his own family when he agreed to marry you when his older sister your mother Rhaenyra offered a marriage between you both, gently placing his hand on your swollen stomach simply wishing he could make everything better but finally looked away only looking at your stomach now as he quietly spoke feeling more broken then he had ever felt in his life before "your right I know you are but I'm trying there are days that are harder but I still push through and try for you, for our babe, I refuse to let anyone speak about you or your brothers as if your bastards anymore, and I still let you rule beside me even knowing people would've had a problem with it, I don't know what else to do to please you..." "You expect me to believe that?" You couldn't help but sneer. "Just saying that you won't cheat doesn't mean you won't cheat! You are lying, Aegon; I would not be surprised if you have cheated already. You are only telling me what you think I want to hear, aren't you? What if I did want to get out? You know I can't do that. You are the one with all the power, Aegon! You can do anything you want and I will have to deal with it."

Aegon simply ignored you trying to accuse him of cheating still and leaned forward as he gently kissed your large bump before looking up at you as he tried to hide his broken feelings that felt like it could've killed him and spoke quietly "Just say the word that you want out and I'll figure it out... I promise", Slowly standing and started to make his way out of the room to give you more space instead of keeping up with the fight that had lasted hours by now since he didn't know how else he should comfort you or calm your worries that seemed heavier than ever that he would cheat since you became pregnant. "Don't leave!" You shout as Aegon begins to walk away. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you, Aegon! You would leave the moment things got difficult, wouldn't you? It's just another sign that you're no better than all the other men! Come back here! I am not done with you yet! You cannot ignore this, Aegon!" You stood and stalked Aegon, hearing your heart pound in your ears in fury.

Aegon stopped in his tracks and slightly turned to face you before he shrugged at your words feeling like he was at a loss "What else shall I do? you ignore my claim of never cheating on you, that I must not actually love you, everything I try to talk out you don't believe me anyway even when I try to make things easier for you, for us you blissfully ignore...I know what I was like before you but I am trying to change and you refuse to see it. I don't sleep around, I don't drink, and I have taken care of anyone who thought it was a good idea to say you and your brothers are bastards. I even stopped my brother from killing yours." Walking closer to you as his resolve started to break since he was tired of fighting the same things day in and day out while still fighting with his own family. "What else can I do?" You stared up at the King directly in his eyes with an expression that was equal parts fury and sorrow. "Swear to me that you have not been unfaithful to me since our wedding night. Swear it to me now, Aegon. I refuse to believe you until I hear you swear to this," you demanded.

Aegon sighed as he heard your words and had been doing such since these fights started but slowly opened his violet eyes and looked into your misty ones letting the silence hang in the air for what felt like forever but slowly and quietly starting to talk tired as ever "I swear it to you, on whatever you want I have not laid with another that wasn't you." Pulling his arm out of your hold knowing he would swear it on his father, the iron throne, his kids, his dragon, anything you could think of that he was being truthful even about some days being harder than some. You stared intently into Aegon's eyes as you waited to hear him speak the oath. "Swear it to me on your crown. Swear it to me on your honor that you have remained faithful to me. Swear it to me by whatever is most holy to you." Aegon sighed as he looked at you but listened to you speak, before nodding his head at everything you listed before stopping to think what was most holy to him since he didn't care about his own father who had passed or the gods had never seemed to help him when he most needed it. But looked off as he thought about what was most holy to him before he quietly spoke and looked into your eyes as he gave an answer not even you would have seen coming about what he thought was the most holy thing in his life "I swear it on our marriage."

You stared at Aegon for a long moment. "You swear it on our marriage," you repeated slowly. "Do you know what that means? I want you to tell me exactly what that means. I want to hear it from you, Aegon. Tell me what swearing it on our marriage means to you." Aegon leaned in close to you as he took a deep breath knowing it was an improper and most likely taboo that he let you mainly be in charge between you both, but enjoyed it normally since he had to be in charge as king, looking into your eyes as he gently took your hand in his own before he started talking "It means I have never cheated and will never be as stupid to cheat on such a beautiful soul regardless what you or anyone thinks, it means you are the only person in the world for me even right now as we fight that I want in my bed at the end of the day, that I want children with and to rule beside me...it means that you and our marriage are the holiest things in this world to me I don't care about anyone else even the fucking gods as long as I have you beside me and in my arms. I will deal with anyone who makes you think otherwise or you think could even turn my head".

You listened intently to Aegon's admission of loyalty. "I believe you," you said plainly, after a long silence. "You are right. I'm sorry. You have been a loyal husband, and I'm sorry that I doubt your fidelity. I'm sorry that I accuse you of infidelity. You don't deserve that, Aegon. I have behaved shamefully towards you. I can see that now." Aegon still made no move to touch or hold you as he still thought you might not want him too but slowly started to smile before he shook his head and spoke with a deep rasp to his voice "No you were right I slept around and used women however I pleased before it's fair of you to think I can't give up my ways," slowly moving his hand up only to cup your face as he leaned in closer letting his warm breath hit your pink lips. "I know it's hard to believe even with people still talking about it to the day but I do mean it that I've been changing just for you, I only want your stretch marks and all...and your tight womb." You paused for a moment, as Aegon's last comment made you realize he might not have used the most tasteful wording. "Are you serious?" He asked, with amusement in his voice. "You really mean to tell me you have been changing your ways, Aegon. You have truly given up your old lifestyle, just for me? Are you being honest, then? Truly honest? Are you trying to tell me that you really love me above all others?"

Aegon listened to you before letting go of you and slowly kneeled before you as he looked up at you knowing a king should never bend at the knee for anyone or anything but made it a point to show you how honest he was being as he nodded his head and slowly started to smile as the fight was calming down "yes I'm being honest and I have truly been trying...just for you, I know I've slept around and used people before nor was I very kind to you when we met, and I might still make mistakes but I am trying I promise." You watched Aegon as he knelt before you, and you could not help but laugh in amusement. "You kneel before me like a lowly knight," you said teasingly, trying to hide the swelling feeling around your heart at Aegon's display of devotion. "I suppose I must get used to my place as Queen then if you truly are as devoted to me as you say you are." You said, in a slightly teasing manner. "I forgive you for our misunderstandings, my husband. You really do love me, don't you?" Aegon chuckled but nodded his head in understanding but would've done it over and over again if he had to, placing his hands on your thighs as he kept looking up at you before he nodded his head again feeling relief set in his bones that you seemed to be understanding, even as tough as it was for him to not want to use women like he was used to he would always keep you in mind if he even ever had to speak to other women. "That I do darling, you could ask for whatever your heart desired and I would give to you, especially if it helped you feel better that I would not cheat on you." Tilting your head to the side as you looked at him.

"Anything I desire, Aegon?" You looked at your husband with amusement in your eyes and a small smile on your lips. "What happens if I were to demand something ridiculous from you. Something that you absolutely cannot give me. And when I say this, I mean something truly ridiculous - can you think of something so absurd that it makes you laugh at the thought of it?" Aegon nodded his head knowing all he wanted was for his life to calm down and no longer have to fight with every single person especially you, chuckling again before resting his head against your swollen stomach still kneeling before you but had a small smile on his face knowing you would push this as far as you could, but slightly nodded his head again as he spoke knowing he would take care of anyone who made you rethink your life with him or made you jealous. "I would still do my best to make it happen, name your price...anything at all." You thought for a moment before your smile widened into a grin as you spoke once more. "What if I ordered you to abdicate the throne in my favor?" You said with a giggle not believing he would do it. "What if I told you to give up your crown, simply because I asked you to? Would you do it, Aegon? Would you step down from the Iron Throne just for me?"

"I am sure. You may ask for anything your heart desires. I will make it so." Aegon's eyes are intense with an overwhelming anticipation. Aegon's brows raise and his eyes are fixed on you with an unreadable expression. "… Well, I… I…" He laughs nervously, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. "Um, I… I would, yes." The nervous laughter grows as his pale cheeks flush red. "Truly? Would you, Aegon?" You asked, your eyes widening as you spoke. "Would you really step down as King for me?… Because I was just joking, really." You laughed playfully at Aegon's face turning red, before you moved to kneel alongside Aegon on the floor. "I never wanted you to give up your crown, Aegon," you said quietly, in a serious tone. His nervous laughter continues and he looks away, trying to collect his thoughts. After a moment his face slowly relaxes and he looks back at you. "…I did not expect this. I…" He's silent and uncertain, as all thoughts and feelings fly all over the place inside his head. "But I have a lot of love for you." His face turns toward Jacaerys and he gives a soft expression. "More than you may know."

#aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

Text

Of All Things, I Became an Oceanid

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Oceanid with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're an oceanid

pairing. navia x reader, kaeya x reader, childe x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being an oceanid today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

So you're an Oceanid now.

You suppose there are worse things you could have turned into. God, imagine if you turned into a hilichurl or something like that. Yeah, you'll take being a graceful water being over a hilichurl any day.

You can talk, you can wield Hydro and you can go literally anywhere you want as long as water is present. It's honestly not that bad of a deal, you can be Mx. Worldwide if you so desire it.

As for finding company with your fellow lochfolk? That's not really much an option, all things considered. As it stands now, Oceanids follow one simple rule.

You stay in your lake, they stay in theirs and you call it a day.

Kaeya

Considering Springvale's small pond is already taken, you decide to call dibs on Starfell Lake since after Rhodeia made even the waters of the Dawn Winery bitter, you figured it would be better to try a source lake not connected to her spot in Liyue

To be honest when it came to being an Oceanid, you figured you didn't really need to become the companion of any of the characters

You're more than content to stay in your lake and mind your business. But truthfully, it does get boring, so when you saw Kaeya's reflection peering into your waters, you popped your head up to say hi almost instinctively

Apart from a brief look of surprise, that's the extent of your attempt to seem regal and mysterious in front of the Calvary Captain

"A water faerie so far from Fontaine? I can't believe my eye; this is the certainly the last thing I was expecting to see while out on a stroll."

It's not everyday you meet something so exciting and considering what happened after encountering the Traveler and Paimon, Kaeya decides to listen to his instincts that there'll be a lot to come from interacting with you

Because of this, Kaeya is a frequent visitor to your lake besides the people who occasionally stop by to clean the statue of the Seven

You ask him about the daily gossip of Mondstadt and he asks you about the life of being a water faerie, a fair trade even if most of your information is based on your memory of the Genshin wiki page and the limited personal experience you have

Kaeya's made a joke about how your meeting is something one might read in a romance novel, much to your embarrassment

Is he serious or no?

It's not like there haven't been any Human/Oceanid relationships in this game so it isn't completely out of the ordinary when you think about it...

At the same time though, you don't want to look super eager

One particular night, a long silence fell over you both when you asked him about his family. He tells you a bit about his past, about being adopted into the Ragnvindr family and his present less than savory relationship with Diluc

You ask if he's lonely to which he asks in return "do I seem lonely?" yet there is no bite in his tone nor is there any sarcasm either. his gaze is thoughtful but miles away from your lake

"Yes" are the words on your non-existent tongue yet you can't bring yourself to say it, all while a warm hand brushes against your watery cheek much too quickly

Navia

Being an Oceanid in Fontaine pre-Neuvillette's judgement was pretty much impossible, thankfully you airdropped into Teyvat after that deciding to call an area near Poisson your home

As to how you met Navia, you heard her crying by the sea as she does sometimes after getting new flowers for the grave of her father and much like the Spring Faerie of Springvale, you answered the call and swam to the surface

She thought maybe you were Melus or Silver, or maybe some other lost soul of Poisson. You quickly let her know that wasn't actually the case, much to Navia's initial disappointment

But Navia is an optimist, first and foremost. So she won't let the reality of the situation get her down and would ask you a bunch of questions. Afterall, Oceanids are thought to be practically extinct in Fontaine after Egeria's death so she doesn't want to waste the opportunity to learn more about you

And boy do her questions range from genuinely thought provoking to so silly it leaves you both in a fit of laughter

It's a first meeting that does Navia good, there she was so sad and then you came and turned the entire situation inside out. She promises to make you macarons as thanks, if lochfolk can even eat

Truthfully, you don't know if you can either. It's not like it's necessary to eat as you are now but fuck it you want to find out for yourself

Navia is also quick to invite you live in the waters of Poisson in general, or at least settle in if you ever want to visit and see the town for yourself

You take her up on the offer to have, if anything, a change of scenery and to see more people out and about than you normally would

You truthfully enjoy a nice yap session with Navia, it's never boring when she's around even if the most you're doing is watching her dish out orders from your comfortable pond in Poisson

But the best hangout sessions you have are when you are a good distance from the place and she can chat with you freely. She'll bring a basket of snacks, a blanket to sit on and you'll chat the day away

Sometimes she'll even bring a sketchbook and attempt to draw your portrait. Navia isn't the best artist but you enjoy looking at her artwork nonetheless

A small secret of her heart though is that Navia is quite sure that as a young girl she dreamed of something like this. Meeting an Oceanid by lakeside and falling in love before willingly being taken into the depths of Fontaine to eternally perform a watery dance of love

Maybe she can't do some of those things as the boss of Spina di Rosula, but maybe the former... maybe she's just been reading too many romance novels

Childe

When it comes to Childe, you truly lucked out in becoming an Oceanid when you lost the isekai 50/50. Because if you were something couldn't talk like a Thunder Manifestation or a Geovishap... you'd be assed out

For he, Tartaglia, is constantly finding ways to become stronger and that includes fighting mythical beings he comes across

But hey, Childe is no barbarian. Anything that can talk and beg for its life, for the most part, isn't a viable option for honing his skills

So congratulations, you narrowly avoided becoming a hashtag in someone's twitter bio twice in a row

Childe quickly laughs off your near brush with death and he dodges the spout of water you send his way. Sadly, he's somewhat charming when he says "come on, in my defense I didn't think you had any real intelligence! Now that I know we can easily become buddies, I'm sure!"

Maybe it's guilt (you doubt it), maybe it's a bit of youthful wonder permeating his soul (you're sure it's this), but he makes it a point to visit you while he is in Fontaine

Yeah, you lost another 50/50 by being airdropped into Fontaine during its Archon Quest but miraculously the water isn't painful. Maybe it's because you're technically not from this world and it grants you some sort of immunity? You're not sure

You are sure of, however, the fact that Childe comes to visit you like he gets paid for it

Apparently he wants to chat it up with you so he has plenty of interesting stories for his younger siblings when he visits them next time he is in his homeland

You sadly have a soft spot for it seems for war criminals that also happen to be family-oriented so you indulge him begrudgingly despite the rocky start to your friendship

When he gets arrested, you don't see him for a while and you admittedly grow worried when he doesn't show up even beyond the crisis of the prophecy coming to fruition but isn't like you can just discreetly find a fatuus in a city, let alone a Harbinger

Childe comes to see you soon enough though when he's recovered a substantial amount (barely any at all)

He laughs at you worriedly berate him for being so careless. "I just had to make sure my favorite Oceanid didn't miss me too much, that's all"

#look she's writing #headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #navia x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader

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scarlethexelove · 2 months

Text

Gone

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 1482

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Deaths, ⚠️Suicide⚠️, No happy ending.

Part 1: Please Don't Leave Me

A/n: So I tried to write a happy ending but I really just didn't like it at all. So my sleep deprived brain said fuck it and went all out. This broke my heart writing so enjoy the pain.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The room was mostly quiet. Nurses filed in and out as time passed. Slow tears still fell down Nat's cheeks as she waited. Xander slept soundly in her arms as she looked at his face. He looked so much like you already and her heart hurt. All she hopes is for you to pull through. It has been hours and the nurses refuse to tell her anything. She wants to make it right with you to build the family she never had, but she isn’t sure she will ever get the chance.

A tear slips down Nat’s face onto Xander’s cheek. He scrunches his face up at the feeling but soon settles staying sound asleep. Nat is pulled out of her thoughts when the door opens. A gurney is wheeled in. Your body lying peacefully in the middle of the white sheets, but something isn’t right. You’re so pale and unmoving. She rushes over to you. Still holding Xander firmly she reaches for your hand. Words floating in the air but she can’t hear them. Her hand slips into yours and she almost recoils at the touch. You’re cold.

Tears blur Nat’s eyes as she looks to the doctors. Their faces are full of sorrow and regret. “We tried everything we could but we couldn’t control the bleeding.” One male doctor who Nat has never seen speaks up. “W-what do you mean?” Her voice shakes. “She’s gone. I’m sorry.” He says. Nat shakes her head repeatedly saying no like her words could change the outcome. The word gone repeating in her head over and over again. You were gone and she couldn’t save you.

The doctor slowly exits the room leaving a broken Natasha behind as she holds Xender close to her body. Her hand is now trembling holding yours. Tears falling freely down her face and down onto your pale skin. You look as though you’re sleeping, like she could shake you awake. Her heart is shattering in her chest. You are gone and you’re never coming back. Leaving her with your son. She doesn’t know how she can do this without you. You were always the best part of her. Without you all she is is a kill machine. Designed for death and destruction. That death and destruction is now taking you away from her and your son. She would do anything to trade places with you. To be the one laying in that bed cold and gone.

The door slams open, hitting the wall harshly. A mix of fury and hurt on Wanda’s face. Her stride conveys her anger. Her eyes landing on your body as she bites the inside of her cheek trying to stay strong. Her gaze turned to the other red head in the room. Wanda points as Natasha. “You.” Wanda seethes. “You did this to her.” Her eyes turn a dangerous shade of red as she lets the anger take control.

Natasha can’t help but lower her gaze, not able to face the other woman. “You fucking left her alone and pregnant. Now look at her.” Wanda demands. “I said look at her.” Nat’s gaze moves to your soft face. “She is fucking dead and it is all your fault.” Natasha is quiet as she speaks. “I know.” Wanda scoffs at her anger not yet dissipated. “She fucking loved you. Y/n fucking loved you more than anything but you couldn’t care less about her. All you cared about was your stupid job. You had the best possible woman at home and now you’ll never have that again. You didn’t deserve her and you sure as hell don’t deserve her son. He may be a part of you but I hope that he is all of her. That boy deserves much better than a deadbeat mother like you. You should be the one that is dead. One day I hope that this catches up to you and it fucking kills you.” The fury at Nat finally turning into sorrow at the loss of you. Her best friend will no longer be in her life and she doesn’t know how to live without you.

Even though the both of them know that truely Nat had nothing to do with your death they both blame her. She blames herself, maybe you would be alive if she was around. Things could have been so different. You’re supposed to be a happy family and now you're gone. She tries to hold it together for as long as she can. Her legs are shaking as she tries to stay standing. Your loss cut her deeper than any wound she has ever had.

Wanda is stroking your hair as she cries. She never expected to lose you. To lose another important person in her life but you're gone now and she can’t fix it. She can’t bring the dead back to life.

Wanda can’t stand to see you like this anymore. She begins to move towards the door. As she does Nat’s legs give out under her as a sob racks her body. Xander cries at the sudden movement and as much as it pains Wanda to hear his cries she also knows she can’t do anything because Nat is still his mother. Wanda looks at Nat and shakes her head as the redhead cries on the floor clutching your son. “Pathetic.” Wanda murmurs as she exits the room.

Nat knows that she has deserved everything that has come her way since your death. The Avengers are only helping her because of Alexander. But every single one of them is giving her the cold shoulder, even Clint. Their only focus has been to help Xander. She has become a shell of her former self as she refuses to eat or train. She spends whatever time she isn’t sleeping with Xander. It hurts her to see him. He is just a reminder of you and what she has lost.

Today has been hard. No one is here to help her with Xander. Her mind racing with all the cold looks and hurtful words spewed her way. All of them ringing true in her mind she deserves all of it. All the hate and all the hurt. She looks at Xander sleeping peacefully in his crib. Her heart hurts as everything plays back. Wanda was right, she doesn’t deserve to be here. She knows what she has to do to make things right.

Knocks on the door echo through the home. Wanda stops chopping her vegetables and placing the knife down on the counter. “Just a minute.” She calls out as she wipes her hands on the apron adorning her hips. She makes her way to the front door, not hearing the tell tell signs of an important news flash. Her hand on the handle twisting it open and pulling the door towards herself. To her surprise no one is there. Her brows furrow thinking maybe she just imagined it. She is about to close the door when she hears a cry. Wanda is caught off guard when she looks down and sees Alexander placed in a basket in front of her door.

Wanda picks Xander up in her arms gently rocking him as she enters the house. “Vision!” She calls out as her mind begins to race. Where the hell is Natasha? Why was Xander left in a basket on her doorstep? Did Natasha leave him here? What the hell is going on?

A loud warning on the tv sounds and Wanda’s attention is drawn to the tv. A breaking news cast flashes on the screen. “Avenger Natasha Romanoff AKA Black Widow has been found dead in her home. At this time Police do not believe there has been any foul play involved. Some reports indicate a self inflicted wound. We will bring you more on this store as information is available.” The news caster disappears from the screen as it begins to play its regular programming.

All Wanda can hear is the sound of blood rushing through her ears. Her head reeling from the information. This can’t be real can it. How can any of this be real? You are gone and now so is Natasha. Leaving Alexander with no parents. Breaking her heart as the reality that he is becoming just like her an orphan.

Vision calls out to Wanda as she stares off into space. “Wanda?” Vision is able to finally break through to Wanda. She blinks her eyes not even noticing how they now shine with unshed tears. Her gaze met his confused one. He looks at Xander in her arms and back up to Wanda.

Are Her words the cause of all of this? Did her words ring true? Wanda’s tearful gaze looking down at the bundled sleeping baby in her arms. Before looking back up to Vision. The only words that Wanda can manage to muster. “I killed her.”

Only time tag list: @fxckmiup @esposadejoyhuerta @megluv1 @leenasayeed @sgm616 @midastouch013 @ordelixx @simp4nat @dvrkhcld

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff xreader #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction

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pokegalla · 5 months

Text

Trade/request by @tryslogic

Pt 2 on the previous and most recent headcanons but with the creepy bois✨:D

(Warning: slight nsfw but more innocently)

How would these guys react to their S/o using their chest for hand warmers?

Jeff:

* He laughs in your face and his long ass smile grows. “Dawwww does the baby want snuggles?” Of course this asshole teases you. You were just giving him quite a nice opportunity after all.

* But fine if you must insist, he’ll rub your head and motion you to go on ahead and dive right in. Even lifting his sweater juuuuust enough to show off that waist and v line- (This bastard LIVES to see that blush from you and not JUST from the cold~)

* His upper body is pretty lanky but he had an impressive waist and hips. And him being full of himself? He knows he’s pretty✨

* Just hey at least you get revenge on the bastard by putting your cold ass hands on him. He almost SHRIEKED before cursing under his breath. But squeezing his chest makes him bonk you for once. “Damn little pervert….💢”

* He definitely ends up chasing you with his cold ass hands the moment you even try to tease him, carrying you and laughing along before a little wrestling match✨

* He’s a little crazy goofball sometimes!

EJ:

* Not gonna lie, even under the mask you can tell he’s making a “What the fuck….?” Kind of face. I mean it IS a really random question to him….

* But he will sigh and give in if you keep persistently asking. He kinda just has to think about how he wants to do it and overthinks for a good minute. Until you just tell him you’ll just do it yourself, stop worrying-💦

* His build is surprisingly more on the toned side. Almost full on muscular despite how lanky he seemed- and praise will get him all flustered and in denial :3

* Though unfortunately and much to your surprise? This bitch is just as cold as you- he was completely unaffected! Though he did acknowledge that you were pretty cold and that you should really get gloves…..Though he does give you a side eye once you start squeezing- (How does he do it without eyes? You can fucking FEEL it-)

* Too many squeezes will earn you hand jail time. Want your hands out? Too bad. They are his now. You fucked up- better own up to it.

* But honestly he just doesn’t want you to let go just yet…

LJ:

* Well…..he doesn’t want to admit it but the question did catch him off guard. Such an odd request. Were you really serious? Aren’t you afraid he’ll bite your fingers off? It’s still a possibility…..

* Nah he’s just fucking with yah again. He bends down to your level and boops your nose. “Of COURSE you can little doll. My body is yours the same way yours is MINE~” he just had to throw that in there to laugh at your flushed face.

* His body was a little mix. Broad chest, thin waist, lithe hips. It was an oddly nice look on him. Though he teases if you stare too long-

* Now you would think he would react with those cold ass hands right? NOPE- and he looks back at you like ha ha you tried but failed✨ though the squeezes surprisingly made him blush?! Well well well how the tables are turned✨

* Ah but it didn’t last unfortunately as he simply stood up to avoid it. Buuuut he took him with you, hand on your behind as his own way of “warming” his hands up~✨ any bonk is futile as he’ll just laugh and give you kisses

* Even a psycho clown can be a softie!

#my writing #self insert #funny #cute #fluffy headcanons #jeff the killer x reader #laughing jack x reader #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta hcs #sfw #writing trade #request answered

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 10 months

Text

imagine seeing bucky after six months

"Shit."

"What now."

Taking a last hit, you flicked the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with a heavy black boot. Yelena looked to where you nodded, turning to see Sam Wilson and worse, Bucky Barnes soldiering right towards the two of you. She groaned outward, rolling her eyes.

"Don't they have their own shit to do."

Avoiding Bucky's glaring stare, you nearly pinched the bridge of your nose out of frustration and nerves. It had been about six months since you last seen Bucky, leaving him rolled up in a thin sheet as you escaped the hotel room. See, the thing was, you liked fucking Bucky Barnes - you were human after all, but things were complicated at best. Plus, Sam sorta severely disliked Yelena and your antics; always interrupting their investigations but was it your fault that you were simply better at espionage?

"Of course the two of you would be here." Sam was annoyed and you could only smile at the man, hands on your hips. Yelena examined her nails and shrugged. "Well, the job needs to get done and you two idiots are about three days late..."

Holding back a smile, you finally braved a look at Bucky and nearly flinched at how focused he was on you. Giving him a slight nod, you listened to Sam and Yelena bickered until a peace offering was given by Bucky. Yelena began to protest but you spoke to her in her native tongue and she practically pouted. Bucky inserted himself into the conversation and Sam demanded everyone speak in a language he too could understand.

You smirked. "Fine, we'll play nice...for now but my sister gets the kill."

Sam said no one was getting killed but he was naïve to what was really going on and you gave Bucky a look that questioned if he understand. Without Sam noticing, he gave a slight nod and you knew he got it.

"This is Red Room business, so we'll handle the asshole." Yelena spoke quietly and it sent a shiver down your spine - her tone left no room for objections and Sam dropped it. He mentioned the hotel they were staying at and you agreed to meet them to trade intel.

"We'll be there in two hours, we have some sisterly business to do."

Once everyone was satisfied with the arrangements, Yelena started toward the car but Bucky asked to speak to you...alone. Sam took the hint, drifted away down the street as you turned to your sometimes booty call. He looked good as always and it sent sinking feelings down your stomach. Hands in his pockets, he asked how you were.

"Shit hotels, but I always enjoy spending time with my sister."

He gave a small smile but it quickly faded. "How are you really?"

The interior wall you built fell when he reached down to your hand; his warmth filled all the little corners of coldest in your heart and you felt weak. He made you feel weak all because he made you feel wanted. Bucky was your downfall and that's why you kept him at a distance but he was the king of distance and downfalls. Yet, he stood there with the warmest touch a person had ever placed on you. It made you desperate to give in and even Yelena had pointed out the personal torture you were putting yourself through.

"You two are alive, why not?"

What a poet, your sister.

"I want some alone time with you, later..."

Feigning slickness, you purred at him. "Miss my body that much?"

Bucky didn't take the bait, inside he pulled you roughly against him. His hands held yours down at your side and he looked, no, he stared deep into your eyes. "I don't want you just like that, don't be stupid."

That should have pissed you off but it didn't. Instead you softened under his touch and you whispered okay. That's all you could say and when he released you, he touched the side of your face before kissing you gently on the lips. "Six months is too long..."

"...I know, I'm sorry."

He smiled then and kissed you on the forehead. The lightness reappeared in his eyes and he smirked. "Not so tough for an former assassin, are you?"

"Takes one to know one," you snapped back, smiling as he held your hand. He gave it a squeeze and promised to see you later. "Go spend time with your sister, I'll see you soon."

"Promise?"

The childlike air in your tone would have made you flinch months ago but it felt good to indulge. It felt good to be wanted and to have what you truly want - and that was the man in front of you.

"Promise," he smiled, giving your hand a kiss before departing to where Sam had disappeared. Watching him until he was no longer in sight, you felt an arm move around your shoulder and Yelena whistled.

"Oh you got it bad."

"Oh, fuck off."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #yelena belova

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

Text

Title: Third Party.

Pairing: YandereLoid x Reader x Yandere!Yor (Spy x Family).

Word Count: 1.5k.

TW: Post-Reveal AU, Reader Is Sketchy, Implied Murder/Violence, Mentions of Blood, and Cheating (?).

“Are you sure you have to leave?”

You let the words ebb into a lazy drawl, dragging your fingertips down the length of his spine as you nuzzled into his back. Loid’s skin was a patchwork of scars, no more pleasant to run your hands over than dulled sea glass or sandpaper, but you did your best to savor it, to let your lips ghost over a blossoming field of discolored bruises before your attention rose higher – to the rows of fresh nail-marks that’d been carved from his shoulder to the middle of his back. Most of his injuries had been left by his patients, permanent testaments to his dedication to his work, but those scratches had been your doing. A little present for the kindhearted wife he was going home to, sooner or later.

The thought filled you with a smoldering sort of zeal, quick to gnaw at your better judgment and infest the empty void where your guilt should’ve been. You swallowed down your excitement, taking instead to slotting yourself against him as if you weren't praying for him to leave, as if you didn't have anything better to do than press your cheek against the nape of his neck, string your arms over his shoulders, and beg him to stay. “We never get to see each other, anymore. I miss you so much when we’re not together – it feels like someone’s trying to carve my heart out of my chest.”

Sappy, overly sentimental, almost embarrassingly aggrandizing towards the object of your affection. The type of praise that’d only appeal to a man who thought himself enough deserve not just his wife to confide in during the day, but a lover who would spend their nights at his side in faded hotel rooms, between sheets that’d seen better days. This one was nicer than most – the sheets unstained, the lights pleasantly dim, the furniture not completely saturated with stale cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. You had to assume it was supposed to be a gift. Loid wasn’t the type to flaunt an affair, but he’d gone out of his way not to bring you to another seedy, by-the-hour motel. If nothing else, you could appreciate a man willing to open his wallet.

There was a moment of quiet hesitation, then an airy laugh. You let go of him just in time for one of his arms to wrap around your waist, hauling you off of the mattress and into his lap, where he could bury his face in the crook of your neck without intervention. He held you like that for a long, agonizing second before pulling back, allowing just enough space between your body and his to press his lips against your temple, then into your own. The kiss was gentle, lingering, and you let yourself melt into it, into him. Genuine shows of adoration were rare, in your line of work. While you doubted Loid felt anything more towards you than lust-tinged fondness, he was a good enough actor to pull off the role of ‘Lovestruck Idiot’ with little to no breaks in his character. “You don’t know how much I want to,” he started, with a smile as hollow as the man who wore it. “But Yor’s at home with our daughter, tonight. It’d be cruel to leave her on her own.”

A slight pout, quickly traded for something more aloof. As if you were trying to hide your disappointment and doing a poor job of it. “Anya must really be a handful if you’re too worried to leave your wife alone with her.”

He was grinning, now, his expression tinted with something you didn’t quite recognize. He opened his mouth, but a knock on the hotel room’s door interrupted your hushed conversation. You frowned, but Loid didn’t seem bothered. “Why don’t you get that?”

“It’s probably just some drunk tourist. They’ll go away if we ignore them.” You brought a hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “I’d rather give my attention to—”

Another knock, this one a little more forecful than the last. Loid squeezed your side, almost playfully. “Answer the door.”

It wasn’t a question, this time.

Hesitantly, you pried yourself away from him, pushing yourself to your feet. Your clothes had been torn off and discarded hours ago, but you snagged Loid’s button-up off of the floor and shrugged it on as you approached the door, pausing once you reached the entryway. You cast a nervous glance towards Loid, who responded with an encouraging nod and a slight wave, gestures that would’ve been more suited for an anxious child, afraid to leave their parent’s side for the very first time. Biting into your bottom lip, you slowly undid the rusted latch and slid the deadbolt out of place, resting your shoulder against the cool wood as your hand found the knob.

Yor was on you as soon as you opened the door.

Her hands in your hair, her knee between your thighs, her mouth crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. She slammed your back against the nearest wall, knocking the air from your lungs and pinning you underneath her strength as her tongue invaded your mouth, as teeth clashed against teeth and pointed nails scrape against your scalp. It was a desperate connection, frenzied and feral, driven by something you couldn’t define and only broken by your mutual need for air – her breath coming in shallow, panted gasps when she finally pulled away from you.

Her attire was the first thing you noticed, her evening gown dark enough to blend into the shadows of the entryway and maimed brutally. A long gash ran from her hip to the hem of her skirt, another bisecting her midriff, revealing a slit of pale skin and sculpted muscle. There were a thousand more nicks in the fabric, a thousand more reasons for you to panic, but your stare was quickly drawn upward, to her face.

To the dots of blood splattered across her cheeks, still fresh enough to shine crimson in the dim light.

You opened your mouth, but didn’t have time to spit anything out before Yor snapped toward Loid, her disposition going from one of mindless desire to frantic apologeticness in the blink of an eye. “I’m sorry I’m late!” It seemed to come out louder than she intended it to, the words hasty enough to blend together as she stumbled through her crowded. "The governer wasn’t at home, and he had more guards than he was supposed to, and it took ages for—”

“As long as you’re not hurt, you have nothing to apologize for.” While you were stunned beyond words, Loid remained unaffected – indifferent to both his wife’s sudden appearance and your confusion. “Try to call next time, though. I was about to go out and see if you needed a hand.”

“Oh, I couldn't do that. Your job is already so much more stressful than mine - I can't ask you to do my work, too.” And just like that, she was brightening, any concerns she might've held about being late or injured or covered in blood dissipating in a matter of seconds. She turned to you, her hands falling to your own as she tugged you forward, towards the bed. You tried to pull yourself out of her hold, but her grip was vice-like, impossible to escape. She didn’t even seem to notice your futile efforts. If anything, she almost seemed shy, a pale blush creeping across her cheeks as she asked, “I… I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, did I?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Loid had been part of the job - seek out the target that the dark-haired man had identified, lure him into an affair, and keep up the act just long enough for his wife to catch and initiate a messy divorce. Sleeping with the aforementioned wife in addition to the mark you’d been paid to seduce had been a complimentary service, a creative touch to liven up an otherwise dull assignment, but you’d been careful, made sure neither of them had ever seen you with the other, never used the same shade of lipstick to stain Loid’s collar as you did to kiss Yor’s neck. You weren’t an amateur. You didn’t make mistakes like that. Neither of them should’ve known their partner knew about you, not unless they were both insane enough to come out and tell the other who they were going to see when they disappeared into cheap motels and empty offices. No married couple would be so honest about something so detrimental to their relationship. No normal married couple, at least.

But, you were starting to think that Yor and Loid didn’t fit into that category as neatly as you’d hoped they would.

“The poor thing must still be a little startled,” Loid chuckled, finally pushing himself to his feet. Yor perked up, and with an airy sigh, Loid nodded, the exchange as silent as it was coordinated. With no further permission needed, you were thrown onto the mattress, barely allowed to land before Yor was on top of you, latching onto your throat, pointed teeth burying themselves into the curve of your neck. The pain was immediate, searing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how much it hurt when Yor’s attention had already fallen to your collarbone, then your chest, her focus drifting lower while her affection remained just as hostile. Loid, as stoic and as sociopathic as always, positioned himself next to your head, watching his wife work with an expression that only betrayed the slightest trace of fondness – a pleasure so diluted, it might've just been a trick of the light. “You can relax. Yor’s been looking forward to this for months. I haven’t been much better, to be honest. Yuri's never sent anyone so...” He trailed off, letting his head lull to the side. “So tempting our way before., I suppose.”

He was cupping your face, as if to mimic your own dramatized mannerisms, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. Yor groaned against your skin, a noise that you could only guess was meant to signal agreement, and Loid broke into a small grin.

For once, you thought his smile might actually be genuine.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #yandere scenarios #yandere spy x family #spy x family imagines #spy x family #yandere sxf #sxf imagines #yandere loid forger #yandere yor forger #loid forger x reader #loid x reader #yor forger x reader #yor x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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yorshie · 6 months

Note

Hello! How are you? I hope you are doing well

Could you please do some Headcanons for tmnt (bayverse) x reader who has a huge problem with overheating? Like. Huge problem. Gets lightheaded, can’t sleep on “too warm” beds or places, Sometimes needs to lie on the cold ground or have ice packs on their face, legs, basically their whole self as an attempt of trying to cool down? And when they find out the boys skin is actually quite chilly they get more affectionate? Handsy? Of course w their consent, Legs get laced together, resting on their lap more often, both have crushes going on but reader is so bothered by how hot their skin is, all of the anxiety/bashfulness of approaching them is throw out of the window, and since winter is coming and the boys are coldblooded, a personal heater would be most welcomed (honestly a fair trade for everybody lol)

Hope that makes sense? (Honestly today is really bothering me cuz I’ve already used 3 ice packs and nothing is working 😭 i feel my face and legs are on fire and it’s so bothersome. I need some reassurance from some chilly boys fr) thank you and have a good day

Hello! I'm doing good, I hope you are doing better! I've been thinking about this ask for quite a bit, because I couldn't decide how exactly I was going to handle the turtles body heat, but I was totally enamored of imagining them being slightly cooler to reader's body heat, even though they do produce their own. Endothermic vs Ectothermic arguments went round and round, til I finally decided I was thinking about it waaaaayyyyy too deeply lol. So, thank you so much for sending this in, because it helped me Answer Some Questions for my personal writing lol. Going with the bayverse turtles run cooler than the average human body temp, but that they can withstand a range of temperatures because they still generate their own heat. So without further ado!

Bayverse turtles x GN reader, SFW - headcanons for nonspecific turtle

as always turtles are 24-25 in my writing

the first time he catches you lying on the floor in your home, surrounded by ziploc baggies of ice and an ice pack balanced on your nose, he almost snapped a picture at how goofy it looked. Then he noticed how red your skin was, how miserable you seemed, and he decided maybe it'd be better to check and see if you were ok

Upon finding out that, no, this was normal for you, that you were burning up despite how freezing cold your living room was, a small voice in the back of his head immediately reminded him that he ran COLD. He ignored it all through swapping your baggies out with fresh ice, of watching you roll to a new spot on the floor to find a new cool spot before his traitorous mouth opens up and he hears words that sound eerily like his own voice before he can reel the offer back in.

At first, you don't believe him. He's being sweet, sure, but the thought of touching or cuddling someone right now makes you want to commit murder. It takes him reaching out abruptly and placing his palm against your uncovered stomach for the fact to sink in that... oh my GOD HE"S COLD.

From that moment on, he is the designated cuddle buddy. In a pinch you'll make due with one of his brothers if you can convince them to stay still, but the first time he caught you draped over one of their shells you got the stink eye for three days straight, and when it came time for you to ask him once more to help you ended up being held more like a teddy bear.

Most of the time though, you sprawl across him on movie nights, cheek to his plastron, trying in vain to beat down blooming feelings when he rests his large, cool hands against your back and twines your legs together. Once or twice you're even embarrassed over it when it happens in front of his brothers, but at this point they just act like its normal. Just know, though, that your turtle has gotten ribbed over it privately, and there's a betting pool they've got going behind the two of yours' backs.

Come winter, you notice it's not just your turtle that's creeping in to cuddle now. With the weather turning, it seems the other three have realized that while they are a walking, talking ice pack for you, you are in fact a walking, talking furnace for them. Your turtle is definitely in the middle of the huddle, but don't be surprised to find yourself in the middle of a turtle pile anytime you come over. Don't worry, you're not the only human that gets wrangled into this. One time you got yoinked into the pile trying to coax your turtle out for some one on one cuddles and you found both Casey and April in the middle of the pile, both slightly squashed and unhappy about their turtle kidnapping.

All and all it's a revolving door of seeking each other out for heat and/or for cold, I'd give the betting pool a max of four months before it's being cashed out.

#tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt fanfiction #bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse donatello #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #my writing requests

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