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roseychains · 10 days

Note

love the red flags for jjk guys...what about the green ones?

Green flags with jjk guys

A/n: thanks for the request! It was fun to write :3

C/w: fluff all sfw fluff

Gojo: princess

Gojo treats you with what can only be described as princess treatment. He does anything and everything for you, ask for the moon and he would get it for you. Shoes untied? He will get down on one knee and tie it. Your feet hurt from walking? Bridal carry all the way home. His wallet is yours, and he worships the ground you walk on. Your his most prized possession, your his queen.

Geto: sweet

He never runs out of complements and praises to adorn you with. He is soft spoken and kind, a real sweet talker. Even if at times cheesy, he never fails to make you feel like the most gorgeous, strong, intelligent person ever. It doesn’t matter where you are, what time it is, who’s around you, even when he’s in a sour mood. He can’t help but remind you of how pretty you are, how much he loves you, coupled with gentle kisses, or a soft hand rubbing your back.

Nanami: service

His love language is acts of service. He just likes, doing things for you. Massage your shoulders, hold your bags, he’d even learn how to do things for you like your hair, or painting your nails. He doesn’t care how Feminine it comes of as, he wants to do it for you. Not to mention, once he realizes something that you like, he gets skilled at it. Hell, even embarrassing things like waxing. If you wanted him to, he would learn how to for you.

Toji: protective

If anyone can make you feel safe and protected at all times, it’s your scary dog of a boyfriend. He’s huge, and not afraid to hold you in public. He does anything and everything to ensure your comfort and safety. He walks you to and from anywhere, he will drive, and keep you on dial whenever you are out. If you ever need a ride, he’s speeding to get his girl out of wherever she doesn’t want to me. And when your sick, he’s suddenly become a trad wife and is nursing you back to health.

Choso: available

There’s no one who understands how you are feeling better than choso, sometimes even more than yourself you think. Somehow, he’s able to understand everything with great empathy that you where unaware a man ever could. He’s always willing to comfort you about it and make you feel better, he knows exactly what to say. Not once has he ever or will he ever make you feel crazy, that your overreacting, that it’s not a big deal. He approaches everything with great kindness and empathy.

Sukuna: strong

He’s just… so big. He’s quite the work of art and it always ends up being in your favor. He can and will carry you to the ends of the world. Your feet will never ache again. He won’t just carry you, he will carry your bags, groceries, even help you move furniture (by himself). He’s also quite the intimidating figure in public. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way he has one of his large hands wrapping around your back is enough to scare of anyone from his girl. Not to mention, it’s quite fun to sit on his back while he does push ups.

Yuji: proud

Yuji is so lucky to have you. He feels lucky, and he’s boastful of what a wonderful partner he landed. He genuinely feels so small around you, because he thinks your just so much better than him. He cannot begin to comprehend how he ever ended up with a goddess like you, and he will make that clear. He flexed you and shows you around like your a treasure. He wants the world to know your not just anyone’s girlfriend, your HIS girlfriend. HIS!! He’s so giddy all the time about you.

Megumi: caring

He is such a gentle lover, soft, kind, caring, aware. He knows you both physically and emotionally. So no matter what is bothering you, a pain in your shoulders or a down mood, he will figure it out and fix you right up. He takes his time helping you unwind, and is incredibly patient. Treats you like glass, with soft words and touches that leave you like putty in his arms by the end of it. He will stay by your side even after you feel better, to make sure you stay feeling good.

Inumaki: fun

You haven’t had this much fun in a relationship since childhood. He makes you feel young again. There is never a dull day with Inumaki, in fact he always makes sure your are happy and entertained. There’s nothing that makes him happier than seeing you smile, so, he make it his commitment to make you smile as much as possible. So whatever that may be, taking you out to dinner, roughhousing while playing a game, your laugh is the light of his day.

Yuta: priority

He will always put you first. He thinks about you with every decision he makes, and plans ahead accordingly. You will never ever have to worry about being a second choice, your always his first. He would feel devastated if you ever had to question how much you meant to him, so to prevent that from happening he takes you into consideration with everything. It doesn’t matter how small or trivial it may seem. If it could involve his girl, he will make sure that she feels prioritized, no matter what.

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pandoraslxna · 8 months

Note

ohh my!! \(°o°:)/ I loved "sharing is caring"! , I was wondering if u could do more spider smut, please!!(no rush tho! <3)

The Na‘vi way

adult Spider x female recom reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

Warnings: explicit smut, just a small size difference, oral (f receiving), masturbating, fingering, praise kink, teasing, sexual tension, semi-public, hair pulling, tail pulling, Spider is a smug little bastard

Notes: I just realized that I completely forgot about Spiders mask so let’s just pretend he can breathe just fine without it… 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyways, as you can see I‘m still not that confident in my ability to write for Spider and it somehow feels like he’s not as characteristically accurate as Id like him to be, but I still hope you guys will enjoy this! Let me know what you think pls I’d love to improve my spidey writing skills lmao 🥴

"This is ridiculous…", you mumbled as you peered down on yourself.

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. To be fair, it was an easier said than done task for your squad. But to dress like one? This was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done!

Spider thought it was amusing, watching the recoms get used to wearing loincloths and such, all in order to put themselves into their enemies position. That was, until it was your turn to get dressed. Or, well, get undressed.

Spider couldn’t help but stare at you for a good while, now wearing a loincloth and also a skimpy woven top that barely covered more than a few inches of skin. You were seemingly having a hard time getting comfortable with your new clothes, as you were trying your absolute most to hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.

He was used to seeing omatikaya women in less coverings than that, but still. There was just something about you showing that much amount of bare skin that had him feeling a little dizzy.

Snapping out of his thoughts before you could even realize that he was ogling at you, Spider cleared his throat, "It’s not ridiculous. Now you actually look like true Na‘vi."

"Lookin' good, buttercup", comes from beside you both, with a snickering laugh that made your cheeks light up bright red. "Fuck off, Wainfleet", you grumbled, "Let’s just get this over with…"

The idea was, to spend an entire day learning how to hunt, with nothing more than a bow and arrows, while also being dressed like a bunch of wannabe Na‘vi. Truth be told, Spider didn’t know if that would actually help them dealing with Jake, but it wasn’t like he was ever planning on actually helping them and betray his (more or less) adoptive family. After all, he was nothing more than a prisoner of war and maybe that was his payback for the way they had treated him so far. Couldn’t hurt to make a little fun out of a group of recoms that had no idea what they were even doing out here, right?

For someone who wasn’t even used to handling guns and such, you did pretty well with a bow.

As far as Quaritch had introduced his squad to him, Spider knew that you were some sort of combat medic, usually just jumping around to treat injuries and make sure nobody dies under your watch. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a soldier. You were also around an head or two smaller than the other woman, Zdinarsk or whatever her name was, which was a nice change, because for once Spider didn’t need to crane his neck entirely to talk to someone. You were pretty much eye level with him, in more than just one way. Compared to the others, you were friendly and kind, and at least you tried to be thoughtful of the environment out here.

When the eclipse neared, the recoms began to set up a small camp in the forest to rest for the night, finally done with todays 'lessons'. There was a river gurgling by and when the Colonel gave permission, you separated from the others to get washed up and redress.

"Oh, no. No. That’s not happening", Spider shakes his head at Lyle who was currently about to set up a small campfire. "What now, pinky?", the recom barks at him, haltering all movements to look at the human with painted on stripes.

"No fire in the forest, bro. That’s an unspoken rule. You’re gonna get us killed if—", Spider tried to warn him, but was cut off short, by the sound of someone calling his name in the distance. Turning to it’s direction and then back to Weinfleet, he points a warning finger at him and says, "no fire", before he’s off to whom had called him.

A little further away, down at the river, he finds you. Your brows are furrowed in what seems to be concentration and frustration at the same time. As he steps closer, he spots the source of your distress.

"Spider, oh thank god. Could you help me with this, please", you grumble, your hands busy fumbling with the tangled cords of your loincloth. "I can’t get this shit off…" The blonde can’t help but laugh when you groan in frustration.

"You have to untie it like this. No, no like—", he tries to verbally guide you, but you seemingly make things worse with the way you impatiently pull at each tiny knot, the strings now tangled between your legs and over your hips. It’s a mess.

"Here, let me help you", Spider then sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before you.

Normally, the woven cords that hold the cloth covering your crotch in place are supposed to be wrapped around your tail. Thanks to whatever you did, or tried to do here, they were now wrapped and tangled around one of your thighs.

"Open your legs a little", he tells you and you do as your told, making room so he could untangle you from this mess. One of his hands is firm on your thigh and you try to ignore the warmth of his palm and the way he unintentionally squeezes the soft of you flesh, while his other hand flips your loincloth up. "Hold this", Spider doesn’t wait for you to respond, already shoving the piece of fabric into your hands to hold it up and out of the way.

He’s entirely too close like this, you think.

You could feel his breath fan over your skin, his thumb on the inside of your thigh, while his other hand reached back and forth between your legs, slowly untangling you.

You had to admit, it’s been a while since the last time someone came this close to you, which made the whole situation so much… worse. Adverting your gaze from the man crouching in front of you, you tried to think of anything else than his hands so incredibly close to your private parts and the way it made you feel so on edge, that you had to concentrate on your breathing.

Meanwhile, Spider attempted to find something to focus on other than the textured rope holding the two halves of your loincloth together. It rode low. Pinching the flesh over your hipbones, like it was squeezing, teasing. There was also his hand, both of them entirely too close to your—

Glancing up, he found your eyebrows scrunched together as if you were concentrating very hard. You looked up at the sky and your chest raised and fell in deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm yourself.

You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

With a hand still firm on your thigh, Spider gently squeezes the soft flesh to test the waters. A smug grin spreads on his face when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, your eyes still glued to anywhere but him. He knows it’s risky, knows it’s probably not the best idea, but he can’t help himself. His hand moves a little higher, until his thumb is barely an inch away from the thin cloth covering your sex. He traces the outline of your cunt, just a teasing touch that, if your senses weren’t on high alert already, you wouldn’t even have noticed.

A small gasp escapes you, when he adds a little more pressure on his thumb, but you still don’t tell him to stop. You only shift your stance slightly, your hands still holding the front of your loincloth in a tight grip. A task for which you were grateful for, otherwise you wouldn’t even know what to do with your hands.

Spider gently brushes his digit over the thin covering between your legs, feeling the delicate outline of your clit, until a small wet patch formed right there. A mouth watering sight. He watches intensely, how you let your head fall back, how you squeeze your eyes shut and a deep blush spreads on your blue cheeks that made them look a little purplish. He had to admit, you were adorable like this.

Dutiful to his task, he then pulls his hand away in order to untie the final string, and your loincloth slowly falls off of you.

"There, all done", the blonde says softly, smiling up at you. A beat passes in silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, and Spiders hands still firm on your thigh. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you were trying to say something, but your voice was nowhere to be found. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the soft blue skin of your inner thigh, and you exhale a shaky breath. The blush on your cheeks deepens, when his gaze falls to the glistening folds of your cunt, right in front of his face, and then back up at you.

"Can I?", he asks, to which you nod and whisper a breathless, "please."

It’s all he needs to hear to return his hand between your thighs, index finger swiping through your folds to locate your clit. His fingertip circles the tiny nub gently, while he pays close attention to the buckle of your knees when he touches it just right. Arousal begins to heat up your blood as he slides his digits from your clit to your entrance. Your breath hitches.

"You’re so wet", Spider murmurs, grinning, "Did you enjoy walking around like that today?"

"Shut up…", you whisper, although it sounds more like a whimper to him. With a chuckle, he continues his teasing touches, running a hand up and down your thigh while the other smears your slick back and forth.

His fingertips are featherlight as they tease the little nub of pleasure, drawing circles around it before he slides them back and dips them into you– just an inch, and your legs tremble. There’s a sound coming from deep within your chest as he repeats the same motion again, and it almost sounds like—

"Are you purring?", Spider snickers, "Fuck, that’s so cute." Before you can talk back however, his face inches closer and then his tongue darts out to give a kitten lick to your clit. Instantly, your hands fist into his locks to anchor yourself. A breathless moan slips past your lips once he flattens his tongue against you, groaning at the taste.

"Spider, the– the others…", you swallow thickly, trying to collect your rapid breathing, "they’re going to hear!"

"Hmh", he hums in agreement, glancing up to give you a teasing wink. "Guess you‘ll have to be more quiet then."

His mouth his back on you in a heartbeat, lips closing around your clit and then he sucks and your eyes flutter close in bliss. You have to bite down on your bottom lip, hard, in order to stay quiet, but it only gets worse when he finally inserts a finger into you.

"Oh, holy shit", you moan, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth.

Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in, a slow, slick push. You squirm, high pitched moans falling from your lips, muffled against your palm, and then a choked and breathless noise as Spider settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.

Meanwhile his tongue continues to lap at your clit, rolling it over every inch of the wet, warm muscle before closing his lips around it again. He sucks, kisses and slurps and it’s so obscene, you can barely look.

It feels so good every time he curves his fingers into you, hooking and pressing at that special spot, that you don’t even realize how hard you had been pulling on his hair. But Spider doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s groaning into you like he enjoys this more than you do.

Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy until you were gasping and panting for air.

"S-Spider I‘m– wait, I‘m close, I’m gonna come", you half whisper, half whine, tugging his hair to make him stop for a second to look up at you.

His pupils are almost completely blown as his gaze meets yours, the bottom half of his face glistening in your slick and that smug little bastard has the nerve to smirk like a cat that got the cream.

"And?", he raises a brow, almost making a show out of licking his lips clean.

"You didn’t, I mean… you still haven’t–"

"That’s why you’re making me stop?", he chuckles like he can’t believe it, but then his eyes flash like an idea pops up in his mind.

The hand that had been resting on your thigh moves, slides down your leg before it finds the waistband of his own loincloth. With half lidded eyes you watch him pull his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum in rich droplets that ooze from the slit of his tip, and you catch yourself swallowing at the sight.

Spiders hand closes tight around his shaft, giving himself a slow tug that makes him moan softly, and then his mouth is back on you. He’s stroking himself now, to the rhythm of his fingers that are pumping in and out of you. The low groans coming from him vibrates against your clit and you throw your head back at the pleasurable feeling.

He’s incredibly skilled with his mouth, you realize, aiming just right with the pointy tip of his tongue as he swipes over your clit in fast, tight circles. With the way he simultaneously scissors you open, it’s no surprise how quickly he can get you close again.

"F-Fuck, oh fucking hell", you moan in a whisper, "So good, feels so good! Oh– my god!"

Spiders cock throbs in his fist at the sound of your praise and he strokes himself faster, harder, teasing the slit with his thumb, imagining it’s your tongue instead. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in concentration as he makes out with your clit, feeling it twitch on his tongue and your walls spams around his digits.

He’s full on groaning, grinding his face between your thighs as he feels his own orgasm approach, he just needs a little more, just—

"C’mon, pretty. Come for me", he muffles almost desperately against you, fingers curling against your sweet spot at just the right angle and then you tug on his hair to get his lips back to your clit and that’s all it takes. With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and sending him clean over the edge with you.

Hips raising and pushing up into his fist, Spider comes with a choked off groan, sucking on your clit so hard it felt like you were going to collapse if he didn’t let up anytime soon.

"O-Okay, okay, fuck– Spider, s-stop", you half giggle, half moan, before he finally withdraws from between your thighs with a last kiss that makes your hips buck into it.

"Holy shit, where did you learn that?", you laugh breathlessly, genuinely impressed, as you watch him rearrange his loincloth and straighten back up.

But Spider just shrugs sheepishly and grins, "Well… it’s hard being the only one of the very few humans in the village. I had to find some way to impress, you know?"

"Hmh, I see", you giggle, nodding along. There’s a moment of comfortable silence that follows, and as you bend down to pick up your clothes. But then a warm hand settles on your hips.

A smiles tugs on your lips.

"I could show you what else I’ve learned", Spider murmurs, tilting his head to meet your eyes over your shoulder. You glance back at him, watching as he steps closer until his crotch makes contact with the curve of your ass. "Could show you the real Na’vi way." He smirks, then adds, "If you want."

His fingertips trace the arch of your spine until he reaches the base of your tail, where he closes his hand around it and tugs, firm but gentle. But it’s enough to send a full on body shiver through you, and your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a familiar tingle between your thighs.

Well. That’s new.

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alexlwrites · 2 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.”

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence.

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen.

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him.

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would.

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them.

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?”

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you?

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry.

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture.

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers.

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment?

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…”

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?”

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

[Red Daisies taglist: @purplelady85 ]

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ; @chimchimmarie ; @anaya123world ; @junecat18 ; @kayleefriedchicken ; @jkselcouth ; @ivrose21 ; @svnbangtansworld ]

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #jungkook x reader #alexl red daisies #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #bts x y/n #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim seokjin x reader #ot7 fluff #bts romance #bts college au

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nomazee · 7 months

Note

Silly little thing I thought of

Like like imagine dazai and the reader have been friends for years like the reader knew him since his 15 goofer era... and they got used to eachother sm they usually sleep in eachothers beds n stuff :3

LIKE SOMETHING IS GOING ON BUT THEY STILL HAVE THE FRIENDSHIP LABEL.. 🐺🤞

this concept stuck itself in my head like a tapeworm and it has not escaped me for days IM ACTUALLY OBSESSED i wrote SO MUCH for this omfg i had so much fun writing this thank u for this wonderful idea pairing: dazai x gn reader word count: 2.5k content: fluff, vignette-style writing, friends-to-lovers unspoken label type of thing, soft dazai, domestic fluff without the marriage bit, banter, idiots in love im taking requests!

===

Dazai’s toes are still as frigid at night as they were seven years ago. You, of all people, would be the best person to measure this—not in a weird way, but you two have shared a bed at least once a week since your teenage years. You know all of Dazai’s annoying sleeping habits, including his ones of sleeping without socks and digging his feet into your shins for warmth.

Annoying fucker. You sigh, batting his arm away from its loose hold around your waist. “Get your toes off of me,” you croak out, half-conscious and mind still addled with the remains of your once-deep sleep.

“What toes,” Dazai mutters back, smacking your intervening hand away and returning his arm to its rightful place around you. “I don’t have toes. I got rid of them after puberty, ‘member?”

“I’m gonna kill you.” You won’t, not really, and the threats have lost their edge after all these years, but it’s fun to throw at him when he annoys you like this. “I know all your weaknesses, Osamu. One wrong move and you’ll be missing more than just your toes.”

“I’m cold, dear. Would you really let me freeze like this? So mean.”

You try not to choke up at the nickname. He’s been a fan of those recently, at least in the last year. You think it has something to do with your new places at the Agency. New workplace, new life, and new nicknames, apparently. If you overthink it you might puke on him and fall back asleep.

“Not cruel. We have money now, you know. Go buy yourself socks. Wool, or something. Stupid ass cold ass toes.”

He goes quiet. Even in all these years of knowing him, half-living with him, you can’t tell if it’s a normal lull in the conversation or a calculated pause. It doesn’t unnerve you as much as it used to, but there’s still a cold chill at the nape of your neck that springs up at times like these.

“Why would I do that when I have you?”

Dazai has also been a fan of this recently—strange uncharacteristic moments of tenderness. He peels himself back for you and bares himself raw. The implications make you nauseous. Swathed in the darkness of the night, he can’t see your fingers twitch from where they lay next to your head, away from his sight; or the conflicted expression that crosses your face.

Easing your breath out into a steady, deep rhythm, you pretend to be asleep. It’s not like he can’t tell, but the message is there. Let’s not talk about this until the morning. Let’s just sleep for the night. Let’s keep what we have and not change it for the worse.

At age eighteen, shaken with the death of his friend and haunted by blood stains on his fingers, Dazai defects from the mafia.

He doesn’t take you with him—at least, he doesn’t mean to. He expects to leave quietly, or as quietly as blowing up Chuuya’s car can be. He doesn’t expect you to drag yourself along kicking and screaming.

Dazai doesn’t remember much about specifics, but he knows that one day he was alone in his underground apartment and the next day you were there. The kitchen smelled like melted marshmallows and rice krispies and his dingy counter was covered in sprinkles.

“Hi, Dazai,” you’d greeted conversationally. “I’m making your favorite.”

He doesn’t even like rice krispie treats. Hates them, actually.

In truth, your presence is less the result of you “kicking and screaming” and more like an after-effect of your own quiet stubbornness. Your kicking-and-screaming was done in the passive aggressive way that you cleaned his dishes and made his bed and left big trays of rice krispie treats in his fridge for the next week.

Neither of you talked about Chuuya. It was better for you that way.

On the first night, Dazai remembers you holding him from behind, forehead pressed into the stretch of skin between his neck and shoulder. He’s sensitive there despite being wrapped in his stupid scratchy bandaids. His memories for the rest of the night are overrun by a feeling of want, an itch to feel your fingers on his bare skin, a craving for your hand on his stomach to slide beneath the hem of his shirt and press into the tender skin of his abdomen and keep him warm.

===

“Leave me alone,” you grumble from behind the sleeve of your jacket. “I’m napping.”

“It’s not napping if you’re still awake.”

“I wouldn’t be awake if it wasn’t for your annoying ass.” Rotating your body to face the ceiling from your place on the Agency’s couch, you sigh when your view is blocked by Dazai’s ugly stupid face. He’s smiling in that conniving way that he does when he’s about to do something super annoying. Another sigh escapes you when he leans down close enough for the overgrown ends of his hair to brush against your nose. The puff of air from your verbal discontent makes the strands sway slightly. You try not to think about how mesmerizing he looks when he’s this close, with the light from the window casting a golden sheen on the crown of his head.

Since when did you get this sappy? Must be Dazai rubbing off on you, obviously.

“So tired already! It’s barely noon.”

“You came into work an hour ago. I’ve been here since eight. Try being responsible for a change, might exhaust you just as much.”

“Hmm.” He tilts his head, big stupid shiny brown eyes blinking down at you like he’s observing a specimen. “I think I’m more than responsible enough.”

“Sure,” you relent, turning back around to shove your face into the corner of the couch and block out the incoming light. It’s the truth—you’re exhausted. A persistent weariness permeates your bones from how much you’ve been working these last few weeks. It’s not like it’s anyone’s fault in particular, not even Dazai’s despite how much he slacks on paperwork. But looming threats from enemy organizations hang over everyone’s heads and there’s no shortage of uncertainty in the Agency. It’s been mission after mission for you, and you’re taking every break you can get.

Rustling sounds from above you, but you pay it no mind, busying yourself with nestling all of your body into the crevices of the couch and hopefully turning into a piece of furniture yourself. It might be a more peaceful life, really. The calm is short-lived when you feel fingers tap along your cheek—not in a rousing gesture, but something along the lines of placating.

Dazai squeezes a hand beneath your head and cups the side of your face pressed against the couch, tilting it closer to him before you feel a warm press of lips against your cheek. He lingers. He always does. You can feel the gentle inhales and exhales breeze against your face before he breaks his kiss away. Your cheek is warm for more reasons than one.

“Take care of yourself,” and oh, god, you’ll never get used to this, never get used to how tender and soft he’s become with you, never get used to how this Agency has fostered something like kindness in both of you. Your stomach stirs with something unnamed and if you were braver, you’d blink your eyes open and reach up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down to you.

But you’re not brave, and there’s people still behind you in the office, and you wonder what led Dazai to be soft enough to kiss your face like that in front of everyone. You’re sure they’re watching you both. The Agency is full of gossips, whether they admit it or not.

===

“Dazai,” Ango Sakaguchi grits out from behind the crackling reception of a burner phone. “They were not a part of the plan.”

“You think I don’t know that, Ango?” Dazai replies, tone more playful than aggressive. “I know they’re not a part of the plan. They knew they weren’t part of the plan, too. But it’s too late to do anything about it. It’s just a minor change.”

“A minor change?” Ango’s voice is strained with stress, no doubt pulling out strands of his hair as they speak. “I have to deal with not one, but now two members of the mafia defecting. Do you know how much work this was to begin with?”

The thing is—of course Dazai knows. He knows everything. The minute he found you in his kitchen, his stomach dropped with the uncertainty of the future. Going underground with another person was nothing short of a burden, at least on paper. But, he couldn't find it in himself to think of you like that. Like a burden.

“We’ll figure it out, Ango. If you don’t, then we will.”

A gritty sigh sounds from the other side of the phone call. “I’m putting a lot of faith in you, Dazai. Don’t screw this up.”

===

“Made you lunch. Since, obviously, you’re not gonna do that for yourself any time soon.”

A closed plastic container is thrown on the counter in front of Dazai. He looks at it, then up at you, eyebrow raised as if he doesn’t have a clue what this could be about. He’s not that stupid, though. You of all people would know that.

“How nice of you! Too bad I’m not hungry.” His lip juts out in a poor imitation of a pout, and he looks ugly with it. So ugly. Ugly enough to make you feel the need to kiss him all over and then slap him. An incredulous huff escapes you.

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. Eat. It has crab in it, see, your favorite.”

“I thought my favorite was rice krispies?”

You freeze. It hadn’t occurred to you that he might remember that, after all this time. You don’t dwell, because that’s the worst thing to do with Osamu Dazai—dwell.

“Don’t act stupid. Just eat it. Even if it’s not the whole thing, at least some of it. It would do you some good.” Getting serious with Dazai is one of the most awkward, unbearable things you could ever do. He has a way of making you feel stupid for worrying about him, with all his roundabout jokes and skills of evasion built up over years. You’ve found that being straightforward is the best way to avoid all those blank moments of silence.

His fingers curl around the plastic lid and pop it open. The container is still warm, having cooked all its contents just half an hour before showing up at Dazai’s apartment with conviction in your eyes. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll have some.”

You bring out a duplicate container with a serving for you, and treat yourself to a juice box from his fridge. You try not to launch into a lecture at the sight of his barren pantry—that’s best done by Kunikida. The both of you eat in silence, sitting across from each other at Dazai’s dusty kitchen island.

He only gets through a few bites before pushing the container away and complaining about how full he is. You know it’s not the truth, but it’s the mixed-up signals that his body sends him. It’s not that he’s full, but his persistent lack of appetite has caused a lot of troubles for him in the past and you don’t doubt that it’ll keep causing troubles in the future, too.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you tell him, dragging him up from his chair despite his whining protests. “I won’t make you shower, but you should probably do that tomorrow, ‘cause your hair’s about to get all greasy and disgusting.”

“So crude.”

“I do my best.”

You let him change on his own, but not before picking out a nice soft set of matching pajamas from deep inside his closet. You grumble a little in annoyance. The set was a birthday gift you got for him a year ago and that asshole pushed it to the back of his wardrobe and never touched it again. What a brat. You throw a pair of fuzzy socks at him to boot.

Once he’s changed into proper sleep clothes, you can tell that the exhaustion is starting to hit him. He sways a little on his feet and his blinks last for a little too long, as if he’s chasing sleep every time his eyes shut. With another begrudging sigh, you set him down on the floor of the bathroom and dollop his toothbrush with fruity kid’s toothpaste—because of course that’s the only toothpaste he owns—and brush his teeth for him.

Dazai dozes off in the middle of it, and you can’t bring yourself to wake him up in the most annoying way possible. You try really, really hard to not think about how soft you’ve gotten. You’re an ex-mafia member, past coated with dark stains and entrails and death, all of those dark things. Your blood is just as black as Dazai’s, if not more. And yet, being a part of this stupid Detective Agency with this stupid man has melted you down into something parallel to good.

Don’t dwell. It’ll do you no good.

You use a gentle grip with the toothbrush, ensuring that his delicate gums don’t tear with the force of the bristles. A warm feeling stirs in your chest. It feels like you’ve proven something, like you’ve proven to the world that your coal-stained hands can be gentle, too. You can kill and you can nurture. You tap Dazai awake with a little more care, now.

“Rinse your mouth,” you tell him in a whisper. “Then you can sleep.” And after a pause, you add, “I promise,” because now you’re in the business of making promises to people.

Dazai rinses his mouth, and you wipe off the remaining droplets of water from his face with a paper towel that you leave on the counter for your future self to throw out. You lace your fingers with his as you walk to his bed. Not that he needs any guiding. Of course he doesn’t. It’s just a little extra insurance, you think.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles out the minute you lay him down on the bed. It’s a sentence, and not a question, because he’d rather die than ask you something so vulnerable. He’s doing it again—peeling himself back and baring himself raw for you. Your head swims and your vision blurs with either a migraine or with tears, you can’t tell. But your lips quirk up into a stupid smile and he sees it despite his half-lidded eyes, and he smiles back like the stupid dope that he is.

“Yeah, of course. I’m right here, Osamu. Go to sleep.”

And he does. Of course, not before he feels you cup the opposite side of his face and plant a warm, lingering kiss on the swell of his cheek just as he did for you weeks before. The faint laugh that he lets out before he falls asleep is enough to tell you that he’ll be making fun of you for it in the morning. For now, though, he’s soft and pliant and warm between your hands, and you sleep.

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu fic #bungo stray dogs fic #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs x you #dazai osamu #i forgof how to tag hejkp me #openeing up comissions soon... maybne....#this was so fun to write like it lived in my brain for a week and i wrote a little bit every day #i had DAYDREAMS ABOUT THIS CONCEPT BRO LIKE

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zoewrites · 9 months

Text

Stupid Girl (Joel Miller x F!Reader) 18+

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, dirty talk, daddy kink, spit kink, pet names, creampie, unprotected and rough sex, mean joel, shame, degradation, choking

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I've been busier than ever with work this summer and haven't had any time to write. I have 3 Joel fics in the works currently, including a part 2 to Your Price. Thanks for being patient with me and please accept this mean!Joel smut that I quickly came up with on my first day off in ages. :)

You’d never seen Joel this angry, not with you. His fingers dug sharply into the flesh of your arms as he held you against the wall, seething as he asked you what the hell you’d been thinking.

Apparently he didn’t like your answer, because the moment you whimpered, “I don’t know,” his jaw tightened and his eyes grew even darker. They searched your own for any signs of understanding or remorse but all he saw was your brewing anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He was in your face, so close you could feel the heat of his breath, his low tone daring you to challenge his authority. It made you wince, made you feel so small.

“Think I do this for fun? Spend all my damn time teachin’ you how to survive for fun? Just for you to act stupid and careless? Never thought you were this goddamn brainless,” Joel growled, the pinch of his fingers on your skin stung but he didn’t let up, he needed you to understand the seriousness, that keeping you alive wasn’t a joke to him. He pressed closer, his chest only inches away from yours.

“You wanna die out there?! Because that’s what happens when little girls like you start actin’ high and mighty, actin’ like you’re above listening to me when I tell you what the fuck to do!” He berates as tears begin to form in your eyes.

Your hands meet his chest, shoving him back with all the force you could muster, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the words to defend yourself.

“Don’t speak to me like that,” You spit, your hands still pressed against his chest, creating space between you to see his anger fully, “I’m not a child and you’re not my fucking dad.”

His eyes narrow, “You think I like treating you like this? Like yelling at you?” He laughs humorlessly, “I need you to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull, sweetheart. You can’t afford to make stupid mistakes like that.”

“No,” You hiss meanly, hastily wiping tears from your cheeks and feeling the red-hot rage flaring within you, “I think you do like it. I think you get off on this.”

His breathing becomes heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your words hit him. A complex array of emotions dance across his features - fury, disbelief, something darker…

"Oh yeah?" he grits out, "I get off on being mean, acting like your fucking dad? You think you've got me all figured out?" His words are laced with venom and suddenly the tension is palpable. Your stomach drops. You begin to wonder if you’ve pushed too far. Joel is furious, and as scared as you are, a sick tinge of desire is beginning to fester deep within you.

“Joel,” His fingers grip so tightly that you grab at his hand and yelp, attempting to pry him off your bicep.

“Let me tell you something, girl,” You don’t realize you’re shaking until he presses you firmly against the wall, “You have no fucking idea. And maybe, just maybe, you do need someone to act like your fucking daddy to keep you in check."

His words hang in the air as he watches how flushed your face becomes. That shameful ache fermenting in your core demands your attention as you try with all your might to ignore it. You both breathe heavily for a moment, staring each other down. When his fingers finally loosen their grip, you let out an accidental whimper. The energy shifts as you watch Joel’s lips curl into an infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

“Think you’re the one who gets off to this,” His voice drips with dark amusement as you stand motionlessly, silently cursing yourself and your body’s reaction to his words.

“No,” You whisper. He doesn’t believe you.

"You like it when I call myself 'daddy'?" His fingers reach out to brush against your cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle after he’d just held you so roughly. It sends a shiver down your spine, your resolve wavering in the face of mounting lust. His proximity makes it impossible to ignore the magnetic pull between you, drawing you deeper into the dangerous game you've both been playing.

"You like when I’m mean,” He taunts, “You're not as innocent as you pretend to be, are you?”

You hate him, you tell yourself. You hate him for doing this, for making you feel so pathetic. Your eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to ignore the burning as he’s being so fucking mean to you. He waits for your response, letting his hand move from your cheek down your jaw, tilting your face upwards until you finally open your eyes again.

“No,” You scowl at him, hating the way your eyes begin to water once more. You swing your arm up, ready to shove at him again, but he catches it quickly and spins you around, pinning you face-first against the wall.

“Don’t,” Joel growls into the back of your head and you gasp, his body presses to yours, allowing you little room to wonder what's being shoved against your ass.

"I could let go right now," He noses at your neck, “but you don’t want me to.”

It’s not a question. He knows.

Fuck.

And you don’t want him to let up. But it would kill you to admit it. You think you might actually disintegrate if you had to admit it. That Joel calling himself daddy and speaking down to you had you absolutely dripping.

You feel his pleased, breathy little chuckle against your neck when you remain silent, not denying how badly you want it.

“That’s what I thought.”

"...Shit," you breathe, embarrassed and furious and so, so turned on, as you finally allow yourself to press back against him. Without hesitation, he’s shoving his hand down the front of your pants to where you need him most. The rough pads of his fingertips run along your wet slit and you fucking whine.

“Christ,” he practically groans as his fingers glide against you, feeling how shamefully slick you are, “and here I thought you hated me.”

“I do,” You grasp desperately at his wrist.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby,” You know he’s grinning behind you, “All I’ve done is shove ya ‘round a little.”

“Oh my god,” You gasp as he moves a finger inside of you.

“Need daddy to put ya in your place, huh?” His free hand snakes its way up the back of your neck and into your hair. He gets a firm grip and pulls you back from the wall to the couch a few feet away. He pulls his hand out of your panties and shoves you over the armrest with your face pressed into the seat cushions.

His hand's still fisted tightly in your hair as he grinds himself against you. The friction is so good and it drags out a breathy moan that you can't hold in any longer. So good that you could probably cum just like this but Joel is losing patience and pulls back.

His hand leaves your hair and you sneak a glance back. What you see knocks the air out of your lungs because Joel is shoving his pants down just enough to pull his cock out. And he’s big. He looks hungry and disheveled and you’re about to cry again from the anticipation of it all. His stupidly smug face has you wanting to hit him again but you want him inside you more as he pulls your pants down your thighs and yanks your soaked panties to the side.

When he presses the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance, you fully register that you’re about to fuck Joel, you’re really about to let Joel Miller of all people wreck you. And then when he finally slides into you, deeper than you’ve ever felt, your thoughts fucking dissolve.

He wastes no time, immediately setting a brutally fast pace, sliding his hand back into your hair and yanking your head back.

“Should’ve told me this is what you needed,” His voice hoarse as he slams into you, “needed the stupidity fucked outta ya.”

He feels you shiver beneath him and he laughs cruelly. There’s no holding your moans back now, with his hips snapping hard against yours and his degrading words. There’s no hiding how it’s affecting you as you soak his cock. The pornographic sounds of it have your entire body burning. Your eyes glazed over, mouth gaped open, you’re barely conscious of the noises you’re making.

"Fuckin pathetic,” his grip in your hair tightens and he uses it as leverage to fuck you even rougher, “Letting daddy fuck you like this. God, you’re really lovin’ this, aren’t ya?”

He’s right. You do. He's relentless, his cock so thick it aches. He keeps fucking into you like this, spitting filth and mocking you, until you feel your climax approaching.

“Joel-fuck, I- mmmnnnn-” Your eyes squeeze shut as your face is buried into the cushion.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to be done already,” He grunts out as you gasp, trying to reach back for the hand that’s in your hair, “C'mon, call me what you really want to.”

“D-aaaaaaah!” You babble and cry as he swiftly pulls out and flips you onto your back. He shoves back into you unceremoniously, one hand clawing at your hip, keeping you in place as he sets a brutal pace yet again. The other hand wraps around your throat.

He leans forward into your face, you can see the sweat glistening on the slope of his nose and forehead, “Say it.”

“Daddy!” You clench around him, a fresh wave of arousal sending you barreling toward climax again.

"Jesus,” He’s panting as hard as you now, rutting deep into you, making you beg for mercy.

“Please,” you scream, agonizingly close to cumming.

Fingers digging deep into your hips, the pressure on your neck squeezing a little harder, he’s practically snarling, "You’re drooling, baby.”

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he says through gritted teeth, fingers clamping down on your throat and causing your jaw to drop in search of air. He spits viciously onto your tongue and you have no choice but to swallow it up while he grins.

“Gonna fuck your throat next time too, you stupid slut,” He groans, his head tossed back in pleasure, “teach ya a real lesson.”

You should punch him. You should push him off and never let him touch you again. You should be humiliated. Instead you’re cumming. Hard. And you’re calling him daddy. Loudly. You faintly think you hear Joel laughing at you, but its impossible to tell when your eyes are rolled back and wave after wave of searing hot pleasure is rolling through you.

You’re squeezing him so tightly, clenching and pulsing as your orgasm rips through you. That’s what does it for Joel, his hand leaves your neck and replaces it with his mouth. His teeth grazing your skin, muffling a long, loud moan. It almost sounds like he’s in pain as his hips stutter, his cock pressed as deep as it can possibly be, and then you feel the hot throb of him gushing into you.

You have no idea how much time has passed before you finally come down from your high and Joel’s finished filling you up. He’s still covering you, his face in the crook of your neck, and you begin to realize what the fuck you’ve just done. You turn your head away when he pulls himself back up.

You feel his gaze on you but you can’t bring yourself to look up as his cum dribbles out of you onto the couch seat.

He tucks himself back into his pants before leaning back over you and gripping your chin roughly, forcing you to look him in his cold, dark eyes, "remember that you made me do that… try thinking next time before you fuck up and put us in danger like that again."

With that, he walks away, leaving you sore and full of his cum.

taglist: @evyiione @fishingforpike @pedrosballsack

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us smut #pedro pascal smut #joel miller fanfiction #daddy!joel miller

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blue-jisungs · 4 months

Note

heyy, how are you doing? hope life's treating you well during the last days of the year 🤚😔

I wanted to request smth but I'm not sure if I should send it here bc I didn't see a link? anyways. I was wondering how would wonwoo or scoups deal with a s/o that hasn't dated nor kissed before and therefore is scared of the commitment and all the pressure that comes with catching feelings? maybe I have a friend who's insecure about that, iykwim

thank you for taking the time<3

firsts (and hopefully, not lasts)

author’s note. hi dear anonnie!! i’m doing good, thank u for asking <3 i hope life was treating you tenderly too!! :D

++ thank u mother @l3visbby for proofreading<33

summary. having a conversation about your worries with wonwoo, who’s understanding and caring

also this turned so self indulgent like 😭😭😭 i relate to all the bitchless single ppl out there fr fr … so worry not, i getchu…. i mean, your friend >_<

word count. ~1,5k

sometimes you wondered how did that happen. that meaning you and wonwoo dating. him, a talented and handsome idol with lots of charisma, good traits and fans. you, being a simple human with an ordinary life.

it was even quite… boring. nothing really happened in your life. highschool, then college. working and studying, an endless cycle. you were never the one to party – or get invited to parties. sure, you got along with your classmates and co-workers (or even their friends!) but you couldn’t help but feel envious when in their early 20s they already had dated, partied and had the fun of their lives.

you met wonwoo while on a vacation on jeju. for something that felt like ages, you decided to take a trip. alone. just with yourself.

while having a lonely stroll around the neighborhood, you stopped to pet a cat. it had a collar, it certainly wasn’t stray - and surely, loved belly rubs. so while you were petting the feline, wonwoo noticed you. heart warming upon seeing the simplicity and beauty of human nature, he stared for a while longer and went back to the place he stayed at.

he passed you a couple of times – on a beach, when you were secretly petting the cat, when you were riding a rented bicycle with wind blowing your hair.

you were cute and wonwoo decided that ‘screw it’ and approached you once you were reading a book under a byeonggeul tree. and the rest was history.

you’ve been dating for almost three months. yet… you haven’t kissed. wonwoo understood that, how could he not? he respected your boundaries and told you to take your time. he didn’t know the reason – that you haven’t kissed anyone, that he was the first guy you held hands with, that he was your first everything. and in moments like these, when the realization hit you like a wave crushing on rocks by the shore, you were terrified. how come you’re 27 and still a loser? bitchless loser, as many of the younger people would say. sure, wonu never made fun of you (simply because you never talked about it or mentioned it to him) but your friends, that knew you for a long time now… you felt it in your bones that they’re making fun of you.

“hey, is everything okay?” your boyfriend’s (gosh, that sounds so beautifully strange. you never thought the possibility of having a boyfriend is something that was actually possible for you) tender voice reached your ears. tearing your dozed-off eyes away from a random spot in the wall, you nodded with a shy smile.

wonwoo sat next to you, placing his warm hand over yours.

“come on, i can see something is bothering you. you’ve zoned out” he snickered and you just send him a smile “you do that a lot lately, you know? is something bothering you?”

‘you. you are the reason of my bothers’ you thought, sighing.

“well…” you started and already knew it was a mistake. wonwoo cocked an eyebrow.

“so there is something” he hummed, satisfied “you know i won’t judge, hm?”

he knew exactly what you were thinking. one would think it’s kind of creepy. actually, you found it adorable. he knew you so well, almost as if you knew each other since childhood.

“i know but… it’s silly” you mumbled and your eyes met his warm, ebony irises. wonwoo fixed his glasses with a swift flick and shook his head. you opened your mouth to say something.

communication is key, they say. you should probably tell him what’s on your mind, right?

you just sighed.

“how do you… bear with me? we… we haven’t kissed and–”

“i hate to interrupt but i’ve told you this. i don’t mind. you being comfortable it’s the most important thing to me and i would hate to lose your trust” he said, a bit sternly but you knew it was pure care speaking through him.

“i know but… i haven’t kissed, wonwoo. like, never. and actually, i’m scared. because this is my first relationship. my parents and friends have this pressure on me… and it’s so draining. ‘you didn’t even kiss yet?’, ‘when are you going to introduce him to us?’, ‘does he take you on dates?’, ‘do you live together?’, ‘are you really committed?’... ‘are you sure you like him?’... and how… how would i know? i’m scared” you burst out suddenly, words leaving your lips like water erupting from a waterfall. you see his eyes widen in shock, lips parting.

“scared of what?” wonwoo asked, blinking slowly “me…?”

“no. yes. i mean, no!” you laugh and see a wave of relief wash over him. then he frowns, so you explain “i’m scared of what you’ll think or… or where we will be in the future. i’m scared to do some things with you but also… kind of excited? i’m scared of committing but i’m also frightened of not committing! like, with all respect, how will i know i love you? do you just wake up one day and know it’s love? i’m scared i’ll get hurt or even worse, hurt you. i don’t know what to do…” your voice died in your throat.

great, you overshared. now he’ll think you’re actually insane.

you could see wonwoo was baffled. you sat in silence for five minutes, his thumb drawing circles on your hand in a soothing manner.

“that’s… a lot to process” nonu let out a small laugh and you smiled.

“i know, sorry. it’s just been on my mind lately” you mumbled. wonwoo brings his leg to the couch, then puts his other hand and grabs both of yours. looking you in the eye with seriousness, you tense a bit. uh oh.

“to be honest, baby…” your boyfriend starts (and the nickname still makes your stomach swirl with butterflies - even though you always thought it would make you cringe. surprisingly, coming from wonwoo’s lips, it doesn't) “it’s hard to answer all of these. i really like you and i truly hope our relationship will last. but human heart is really unpredictable. we don’t know what the future will bring and we can only do our best and hope, it’ll only be positive things”

you nod. you’d like that – wonwoo was a person you could never get tired of.

“i didn’t know i’m your first boyfriend. and… i feel very touched that you trust me enough to share it with me and be with me. if you’re scared that kissing or something will overwhelm you… i’ll do my best to guide you into everything you want. and if you don’t, i’ll understand that” he said and you suddenly feel like crying. your friends always say that men are shit. wonwoo must be a real angel, then.

“i can’t really tell you how you’ll know you love me. everyone realizes in their own time, their own way. i don’t think… i don’t think i’ve ever experienced romantic love, to be honest” the words left his lips and you stared at him in shock “we’re not so different, dear”

you melted, feeling your lower lip start to quiver.

“and… thank you for sharing your worries with me. i’m really proud, you know? you were scared of others’ opinion, what i will think… of your own emotions. and it's normal. it’s understandable, especially in your first relationship. but i’m here for you, okay?” he cooed, his lips forming into a gentle smile.

“you’re not… angry?” you asked quietly. his face morphed into confusion.

“no, why would i be?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

“well, it kind of sounded like i wanted to break up. which, i don’t of course. but um… you know… a girl tells you she’s scared… i dunno…” you rambled and blew air into your cheeks.

“i’m not, of course i’m not. in fact, i’m happy. i know now how you feel, i know what’s been troubling you. and i just want you to know that… with time, it’ll become natural for you. i mean, i’d hope so” he grinned “also, for the record, i won’t judge your kisses. of course i wouldn’t but… if that makes you more comfortable, then–”

“but be honest, do you even want to kiss me?” you huffed. he giggled, shaking his head.

“duh! what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i didn’t want to kiss my gorgeous partner?” wonwoo asked a - obviously rhetorical - question, squeezing your hand gently. “i do. i really do. but as i said…”

you loosened your hand from his tender hold and smacked his arm jokingly. he looked at you disoriented but with an amused smile.

“take my time… blah, blah, blah. okay. i will, you know it” you said and sent him a serious look “but promise me… if i ever do something wrong, you tell me. right away. like… ‘y/n you’re being a bad partner!’”

wonwoo scoffed and seeing your serious look, he nodded.

“i will. i swear on my love for chan” he said and placed his hand on his heart with a proud smirk.

“awww- wait, what?” you laughed and wonwoo followed along, the comforting sound of your laughters merging together in a beautiful melody.

and you have a strange feeling in your heart. you’re not sure what is it but you’re certain that it’s its way of saying ‘you’re safe with him’.

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth

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merakiui · 2 months

Note

VALENTINES DAYYY WHO’S USING THERE CUM AS FILLING FOR CHOCOLATES AND WHO’S USING APHRODISIAC

Riddle - he spent all week learning how to make aphrodisiac chocolates, but unfortunately he made them a little too strong. You're in for a very fun, very long night. :)

Trey - Both. Why pick just one when both are equally wonderful?

Cater - He doesn't need either when he can use Split Card!! <3

Ace - Aphrodisiac. Arguably one of the few potions Ace masters fairly quickly and it's for nefarious purposes. T_T

Deuce - Flowers and chocolates (cum-free). That's for later in the evening after he's taken you out on the best date of your life!

Leona - Neither. You'll get it straight from the source.

Jack - He gives you actual chocolates. If you want filling (or to be filled), he's more than happy to oblige.

Ruggie - It's purely coincidence you happen to feel hot and bothered after eating the chocolate Ruggie gave you, just as it's purely coincidence you touch yourself according to his every movement.

Azul - He overdoes it every year for Valentine's and this is no different. You're getting an entire spread of sweets, and after you've had your fill he'll spread your legs and indulge in his treat.

Jade - Aphrodisiac. <3 he has all the time in the world to make sure you remember the taste of him on your tongue.

Floyd - Neither. You'll get it straight from the source.

Kalim - Definitely aphrodisiac chocolates. He can't stop feeding them to you. Kalim knows exactly what he's doing when he insists you have just one more. He'll take care of you!!

Jamil - I like to think he'd use both, but then for more dubious purposes perhaps he doesn't need either and resorts to hypnosis...

Vil - Aphrodisiac!!!!!!! Vil is a master of mixing and making poisons. You can be sure he'll have whipped up the most potent aphrodisiac solely for some Valentine's Day fun.

Rook - Both. This is Rook Hunt. He's weird. T_T also, every day is Valentine's Day if you're Rook Hunt.

Epel - Neither. You'll get it straight from the source.

Idia - Both. He definitely gifts you a skimpy cosplay as well. Please grant his wish and wear it just this once. orz

Malleus - Neither. He will get you lots of gifts: flowers or cute plushies. Anything that reminds him of you, really. Plus, he has two dicks. You will be very well-filled by the end of the night, more so than any chocolate or candy ever could be.

Lilia - THAT'S chocolate?????? T_T Lilia cooked...something. You think you'll settle for kisses from him instead. ;;;;; and a bruising round of sex. That's good, too.

Silver - So romantic!!!!! While there isn't any dubious ingredients added to your chocolates, Silver goes out of his way to make sure you feel appreciated and loved. The birds sing for you, draping a flower crown over your head, and guide you to where he's waiting in hopes of asking you on a date.

Sebek - He would never give you a gift! As if! >:( the gift of viewing waka-sama should be enough for you and him! Be grateful to be in his lord's presence!!!!! (Sebek won't admit it, but he wants you to give him head,,, >_<)

Rollo - Very traditional for Valentine's Day. Flower bouquet, a lovely date, holding hands, chaste kisses to your cheek or knuckles....... and then the most sheet-gripping sex you've ever had that night.

Neige - He suffocates you in love omg,,, but if you start feeling a little too hot halfway through your date, don't worry!!! He'll take good care of you. <3

Che'nya - Rather than that, he can just go invisible and toy with you until you're begging him to properly fuck you.

Fellow - He's not extravagant or expensive with it, but he does mean well with his gifts (mostly). Some may come with strings attached, so be forewarned. He's sneaky! However, he's certain he can help you out of that. There are plenty of ways to mitigate an aphrodisiac...

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw

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hg-aneh · 7 months

Note

Hi! I absolutely love all of your art and I’ve been fallowing you for awhile! There’s been some rumors that you ship Muriel x crowley?? Which I guess is an odd paring but nothing terrible wrong with, I was just curious if you do ship them.

Thank you for all your wonderful art <3

okay, i want to preface this by saying that I've already been harassed over this to the point of being called a lowkey pedophile and having every little move of mine scrutinized and misconstrued to sickening extents (this harassment spilled over to my partner too, and it was horrible)

so all anyone would do by doing this again would be repeating history, among other things that have to do with fucking up my already frail mental state

now.

onto the meat

yes, I ship it

no, I do not see Muriel as a child, kid, teenager, or anything of the sort and I find it personally distasteful to think of doing so because infantilizing autistic traits rubs me the wrong way (p e r s o n a l l y)

you can do it if you want to, I have worse things to worry about than a random person on the internet thinking something of a fictional character, just don't try to push your headcanon onto me just because you perceive it that way or because it's a popular dynamic that you find fun

adding onto this, i want to add that i will never and i mean fucking NEVER post anything related to that ship outside of the very specific private Xitter account i created for it

(and my personal facebook, on a friends only setting)

any Muriel & Crowley content outside of that account is all platonic and bla bla you get the gist. I can separate things, what a talent.

Now, I'm being overly paranoid and explaining myself to exhaustion over this for a very good reason and it's because last time someone found out about it ((yes we're going full circle to the beginning of this little bible)) they treated it as some sort of GOTCHA moment about me being a pedo ((and if you didn't know this already: I fucking despise children with my whole being, I'd rather be forcefed alligator shit for my whole life than be with one of those creatures for a single day))

It got to the point of that person making extremely hurtful videos about me and their little friend group comprised of goober eating toddlers joining in on the "Hater" train or whatever the hell that new cultural trend is called, as well

It was hell, that whole experience fucked me up BAD and i feel silly for saying this but it was genuinely traumatic! So- I apologize if I'm sounding confrontational here, anon, but like, this is the type of thing you have to do to keep yourself safe now, it's gone to that point and I'm in hysterics now because what the fuck

Lastly, I'd like to say this one other thing

Muriel is played by an adult actress, they are canonically the same age as Aziraphale and Crowley and are also an eldritch creature just like them

The fact that they're nice and bubbly and happen to have autistic traits doesn't suddenly make them a fetus. I have friends with the same personality type as them and I feel like it'd be dumb to treat them like zygotes knowing they're adults with body hair and debt

Again, if you see them as one, I'm literally no one to judge, I'm 1.49, you're better off taking judgement from a stupid lone penguin in the saharan desert.

But don't fuck with others for thinking otherwise, it's not a moral issue to disagree with a headcanon, please. 🥲

#aneh answers #aneh cries #im still not over that whole thing bruh it fucked me up good #aneh wont shut up #and thank you anon #and also sorry #this shit is looooong #disk horse #discourse

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

bad f*cking friend part 2

words: 1.3k

warnings: smut, 18+ only, male and female masturbation

part 1 part 3

you wake up in the middle of the night, unsure of what caused it. your ears strain, and there it is, a slight noise to your right, where your best friend lays.

you turn over onto your side with a smile on your face, expecting to tell rafe to go back to bed, that he’ll be tired in the morning, but that’s not the sight that greets you. rafes hand is around his cock, holding the base tightly. you’re shocked how big he is, how hard he is. you’ve imagined it before, what he would look like under his pants, but the reality is better than anything your mind has conjured.

you flick your eyes to his face, but rafe doesn’t seem to see that you’re awake, his eyes still wide and waiting. you sit completely still. you should move, god you should move and yell and ask him what the fuck, but you sit still. you want to see more, you need to see more.

rafe fulfills your needs in a minute when his hand starts to move again. it’s mesmerizing, the steady, practiced motion that he’s clearly done countless times. you imagine what it’s like, what it’s like to be the one holding his cock, squeezing it, feeling it’s warmth on your palm, the smattering of hair at the base, the veins that run up it.

your movements are so slow that you don’t even realize what you’re doing until your hand is pressing over your pussy, wishing your shorts weren’t standing in the way of your clit as it pulses in need. you press your thighs together as you imagine rafe between them like you’ve done so many times before. you want to rock your hips, or spread your legs and feel your own wetness, but you can’t risk not seeing rafe finish.

it’s so dirty and wrong, you think to yourself. your best friend who you weren’t even supposed to share a bad with, clearly needing release desperately as his cock pulses, and here you are, rubbing your pussy over your clothes and spying on him, watching his movements from the shadows.

you want to sink your lips over his cock. you want to taste it on your tongue. is he salty? sweet? bitter? you want nothing more than to know, to have him in your mouth, down your throat. to be the one causing his pleasure instead of his own hand.

you think to all the women hes hooked up with, wishing you were also a name on that list. but you can’t be, you’re the best friend. the one he doesn’t lust after, the one he treats with respect when all you want him to do is be very disrespectful. you’d take anything from him, even if it was something as impersonal as taking you from behind so he doesn’t have to see the face of his good friend. or fucking your mouth, not even giving you the respect to touch your body, just using you as a hole.

you rock gently into your hand, being very careful to keep the movements small enough that the comforter bundled up over your body doesn’t move. you force your eyes away from rafes glorious cock to his face, surprised to find his eyes on you. you move even less, clearly he must be making sure you don’t wake up, making sure you don’t ruin his fun. you wish it was because he wanted you as badly as you want him.

you wonder what he would be doing right now if you weren’t in the same bed, if you weren’t in the same room. would he still be getting himself off, or would he have found another random girl to bounce on his cock. you’ve heard stories from some of your friends that hooked up with him, about how ruthless he is, how good he makes them feel while he seemingly only cares for his pleasure.

you push your fingers harder against the fabric, stimulating your clit, right where you need it, right where you wish rafe was. you wonder what it would be like to have his tongue pressing against you there. none of the stories you heard involved rafe giving head, but you imagine he’s good at it, that when he is passionate about the person he’s having sex with that he would spend hours between their thighs, enjoying the taste on his tongue.

rafe lets out a low moan and you swear you could cum right there if you weren’t filled with guilt. you feel dirty, calling yourself names. slut, whore. getting off to her own friend. despite these thoughts, your fingers continue to press and rub.

you watch his thumb swipe over the head of his cock, and you could drool at the sight of it. you think of all those times in the past when he’s been wearing a wet swimsuit or gray sweatpants and your eyes dropped to his crotch. you felt wrong then, and you feel even more wrong now, but you couldn’t care less as rafe starts breathing faster, chest heaving up and down.

his loose shirt is falling in a way that you can still see the outline of his abs. you would do anything to get your tongue on them, or to press your pussy against his firm torso, hands going to his chest as you rubbed against him, using his body for your pleasure, leaving wetness all over his body as you cum.

rafes cock begins to pulse and you rub your clit faster, thankful at least that you didn’t wear underwear under your shorts that would have just put another layer of fabric over your cunt. you think about rafe pulling back the covers, sliding your shorts down your thick thighs and using your hole instead of his hand to get off.

when rafe suddenly pulls his hand away from himself, you want to cry out. to tell him no, don’t stop, continue. he tugs his shirt off quietly, clearly still trying not to wake you and drops it between your body and his on the mattress.

he retakes his cock in his hand, hips now starting to press up in the air. you’re so thankful you let a little moan slip out, but rafe doesn’t seem to notice as you imagine it’s you, hovering over his cock while he fucks you from underneath until he can’t take it anymore, flipping you over so you’re underneath him but never disconnecting your bodies. in your ideal world rafe would spend more hours with his cock inside of you than not. in your ideal world it would be acceptable to skip class because you were too busy fucking him, that you’d have food brought to you in bed so you didn’t have to stop as you get stuffed full with his cum, over and over again until your tummy swells, until he’s officially marked you as his.

you can tell from the feeling building in your tummy that you’re not going to last much longer, but thankfully rafe seems close as well. you push any last thought about feeling guilty over watching him out of your mind as you focus on cumming at the same time as him, fingers now pressing so hard that it’s almost painful.

rafe suddenly throws the shirt over his cock, and you realize than it’s to not make a mess as your eyes move to his face, the way his lip is tucked between his teeth. you imagine taking that lip between your own teeth and tugging on it, and that’s what makes you release. you stay completely silent, swallowing all of your moans to keep yourself concealed as your fingers begin to slow down now that your orgasm is washing over your body.

you see rafe release his lip, letting out a soft sigh, “y/n.”

part 3

#reupload!#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #obx smut #outer banks smut

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foreingersgod · 11 days

Note

Can you write a CC x reader fic about reader meeting the team for the first time.

Like Caitlin forgets her practice jersey at home and you drop it off and they all wonder who you are??

Her Jersey . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: you and caitlin’s relationship has always been low key, so how will the team react when you bring her her jersey unannounced?

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you weren’t something caitlin was trying to hide, nor was she ashamed of you by any means. but she had requested at the beginning of your relationship to just keep things quiet. you were both busy people, having so many things to worry about. you with a fairly religious family who wouldn’t be very thrilled to see you dating a woman, and caitlin with a recently large following who didn’t want to bring unwanted attention to you. she would love to show you off on social media and in person, but risking the hate comments and your well being was too much of a risk.

so you guys kept your relationship low key, not announcing it to anyone at all, including caitlin’s teammates. as much as you wanted to meet them officially and as much as caitlin wanted to flaunt you and brag about how lucky she was, you knew it would be too risky to tell any one.

but your ‘secret’ relationship had its perks. you were the only one who got to know the real caitlin, the one who cherished you behind closed doors, no one else. yes, you were often sad that you couldn’t do stereotypical couple things. like going out to dinner dates, the movies, or do all the fun couples trends. but you were appreciative of what you had: late nights at your apartment, being treated to breakfast in her bed, long and steamy showers shared together. you found a way to make it work.

one day, as you were sitting on your couch after caitlin left your apartment for practice, you had noticed a bright yellow piece of cloth tucked into one of the cushions. pulling it free, you had realized that she had left her jersey at your apartment. it had probably gotten stuck in your couch when you heatedly pulled it over her head as you straddled her lap, eager to see her when she came over late after her game last night. your cheeks were heating up as you reminisced to last nights events.

quickly pulling yourself from your day dream (you could have sat there all day thinking about last night if you could) you shot a text to caitlin, asking if she needed it.

you: hey babe, i just noticed you left your jersey at my place last night, want me to meet you somewhere private real quick and bring it to you?

you watched as her text bubbled popped, awaiting an answer.

Cait <3: oh shit, i had meant to grab that. yea if you wanna come down here, I’ll grab it from you real quick.

you: want me to wait outside? just so that they don’t all see me there.

Cait <3: nah, it should be fine, i’ll just be sneaky ;)

you laughed to yourself, typing out your response

you: if you say so, see you soon 💋

and with that, you were out the door, jersey in hand and bag thrown over your shoulder.

you pulled into the parking lot, getting out and heading into the building pretty quickly. making sure to avoid anyone you may know that might ask what you were doing here. you crept through a few winding halls before you saw the open gym doors, peaking inside to see everyone huddled around talking to one another.

you stood, slightly out of view, waiting for caitlin to notice you. after a few moments, she saw you waiting there patiently, fiddling with the hem of the jersey. you were so cute she couldn’t help but smile to herself. she excused herself from the group, jogging over to the other end of the gym.

as she made her way over to you, you noticed that a few of the girls had been watching her as she left. they tried to discreetly sneak a look at who cait was talking to.

“hey, baby!” she panted, pulling you into a quick kiss “thanks for coming all the way down here”

“yea it was no problem” you smiled sweetly, hands resting gently on her chest as she kissed you again. as you pulled away, though, you felt eyes on you. the same girls, along with the rest of the team, were now staring in your direction.

cait tried to say something else to you, but you weren’t listening as you were trying to grab her attention, shaking her shoulder violently.

“what, what?” she looked at you confused.

“cait,” you nodded your head in their direction “i think we’ve been caught”

she quirked her eyebrows, still lost, eventually turning her head to look behind her. and sure enough, there they all were, cocky smirks plastered across their faces as they jokingly whistled and cheered. out of embarrassment, you covered your face in your hands, caitlin only laughing along with them.

“yea, i guess so” she grabbed your hand, starting to pull you into the gym “might as well introduce you then…if you want?”

“i guess there’s nothing left to hide so…why not” you chuckled, letting her lead you, hooking your arm with hers. she led you to the middle of the court, all the girls still curious as to who you were.

“caitlin with a secret woman?” kate laughed, smiling your way, you had heard lots about her. who’s this?”

caitlin looked down at you, hands still intertwined. she ran her thumb over yours, sensing you were nervous with all the attention on you, trying calm you down.

“YN, this is my team” she began “and team, this is my girlfriend, YN”

they all immediately smiled at you, quick to welcome you with open arms. each girl gave you a comforting hug and introducing themselves, letting you know how lovely it is to meet you and how they’re excited to get to know you better. and of course, there was some playful banter. gabbie and kate at some point asking ‘how did caitlin manage to date someone as beautiful as you?’, eliciting a shy laugh from you. but they were all so funny and sweet, you instantly felt welcomed into such a tight knit group.

“alright, can you guys try not to scare her away!” caitlin interrupted as you chatted with the team “she’s really important to me so i’d appreciate if you didn’t freak her out with your dumb ass questions”

you all chuckled, teasing her a bit more before it was time to say your goodbyes to the girls. you thanked them for being so kind to you and they told you they couldn’t wait to hang out with you more some other time. caitlin told them she’d be back, taking your hand again and walking you out to your car.

as you got back to the parking lot, caitlin beginning to open your door for you, you stopped her. “hey, thanks for introducing me, cait. i know we said to keep it quiet, but i’m glad you trust your team enough to introduce me. wether it was on purpose or not” you smiled, squeezing her bicep sportively.

“i’m glad too,” she said “i think it was finally time to do it anyways, i was getting tired of people not knowing that you’re mine anyways”

she continued “you mean the world to me and i love you so much, thank you for putting up with sneaking around for so long”

“it was for the best, but i’m really happy we can be out to more people now” you said. “you’re team was really sweet, i can’t wait to get to know all of them”

“me too, they already love you. they won’t be able to stop asking about you for the rest of practice i bet”

you both chuckled, relieved to finally have such a huge weight off your chest.

“just don’t tell them anything too embarrassing about me, ok?” you quipped.

“i don’t think there’s anything i could say about you that would be embarrassing” she said as she helped you into your car “you’re absolutely perfect”

with that, you kissed her one last time before closing the door and waving her goodbye. as you pulled out of the parking stall, you watched as she jogged back into the building, a smile still lingering on her lips.

truthfully, you didn’t think you’d be so happy to have gotten caught.

#caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

277 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 7 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst (come on its me), feelings of sadness and betrayal, discussion of domestic abuse.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: I was stuck in a bit of a writers funk there for a moment, but I think I'm out of it which hopefully means I can start slanging dick from my requests. Also as a side note, abusive relationships are really hard to escape, and often very confusing for the victims and people around them. Anywaaaaay, enjoy! <3

Chapter 11: Scars Of The Past

Work had been something you wished would go faster, eyes cast up to the clock on your wall, watching the seconds tick by painfully slow.

You glanced intermittently at the time on your computer, or the one on the screen of your phone. The day seemed to crawl at a snails pace as you eagerly wished to get home to see him.

Aemond had changed, for the better, and the dynamic that had grown between the two of you had, in your opinion, perhaps gone past a casual escapade.

Cregan had never spent days on end with you in your bed, nor had he cooked every single night for you. Nor had he read to you, or indulged you in your every want and wish.

This was much different to the casual dynamic that you had with Northerner, and the more you thought about it, the more you wondered what you were to Aemond. Did he feel the same way? Was he too having these thoughts today? Watching to clock slowly roll by as he waited at home for you?

Was he jogging to fill the time until you would return?

Did he feel the same pull? The same shift? The same longing for more?

It was something that you clearly needed to talk about, and something that you planned to tonight. You weren’t one to beat around the bush, and you felt that Aemond was the same.

When the clock finally struck 5, and the work day ended, you all but raced from the office and to the train, stopping by the grocery store to buy ingredients to cook him your favourite meal, grabbing your shared favourite ice cream tub to share afterwards as a treat.

You had to force yourself to not skip home, a sweet giddiness spreading into your chest warmly as you sped walked with grocery bags in tow, work bag slung over your shoulder. Your heart raced in your chest as you thought of if he would like your meal.

It raced even faster when you began to roll words around your mind on how to ask him what this was. It was too heated to be casual. Too chemical to be a one time thing. Too high strung for just a month of fun. And you had hopes that it would continue after Helaena came back.

Helaena.

That was another hurdle that you would eventually have to take.

After your talk with Aemond, of course.

When you got to the door of your apartment, you had to juggle your bags to reach for your keys, placing the groceries on the floor awkwardly as you fished around in your work bag on your shoulder.

When the tips of your fingers sought them out, pulling them from an inside pocket, a sound inside the apartment caused your ears to prick up. It was a sound that should not have been there, all things considered.

Your heart began to race in your chest.

But the sound persisted, low and steady.

Behind the door of your apartment, came the hum of a feminine voice.

Your brows pulled together.

Was Helaena back early? She hadn’t told you that she was coming back yet.

Something uncomfortable settled in your gut.

You pushed your keys in the door and opened it slowly, careful to not make noise, picking up your groceries as quietly as you could to enter, shutting the door behind you. You placed your keys in the bowl, heart sinking into your gut.

You could hear it now, a singsongy purr from a woman and the quieter, softer timbre of Aemond.

You got to the end of the corridor and your eyes fell to the couch.

Aemond’s head flicked up to you, hair tied back away from his face in a low bun, wearing all black with his shoes on.

It looked like he had been out for a run.

His body was tensed, shoulders rolled back and hands in fists at his sides.

Beside him, a woman you recognised.

Alys Rivers sat prim and pretty on your couch.

In your apartment.

Next to your-

Next to Aemond.

She wore a green top that hugged all of her curves, breasts pushed high and forward on her chest, cleavage on show by the low cut of the top. Her waist was tiny, pulled in by high black pants, and on her feet were a pair of shiny, black stilettos. Her dark hair was brushed over her shoulder, long and straight, and her red lips pursed as she looked at you.

Bright green eyes became narrowed, and all of a sudden you felt unwelcome in your own home.

You watched as her lips parted and her tongue pressed into the tip of her canine before she shut her mouth, saccharine smile pulling on her painted red lips as she turned to Aemond, hand rested on his knee.

“Aemy, you didn’t tell me you had a friend coming over.” Her voice was melodic, and if you didn’t know about her character, you would say that she sounded almost sweet.

But you knew it was a sirens song.

Your hands tightened around the bags handles, “I live here.” You grit out.

Alys turned her head back to you, and your eyes stayed on her as her thumb stroked against his knee, his fists tightening at his side, pale knuckles looking paler. But Aemond did not tell her to stop, and only looked at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher.

“Oh.” Alys responded, eyes roaming across the apartment at your furnishings slowly, far too slowly to be admiration, subtle judgement in her eyes, “It’s a lovely home. Quaint.”

Heat rose in your cheeks and you had to force yourself to move, unsticking your feet from the floor. You moved towards the kitchen, sparing Aemond a concerned look as you began putting away all your groceries.

“Thanks.” You told her stiffly, back turned, eyes narrowed at the splash back tiles of the sink.

“How do you and Aemond know each other?” She enquired from behind, and before you could turn to face her and tell her, Aemond answered for you.

“She’s Helaena’s roommate.”

Your heart sank.

Helaena’s roommate.

Not friend.

Not lover.

Not undecided whatever the hell you were.

Helaena’s roommate.

Anger began to rise inside, followed with jealousy and hurt. A most dangerous trio.

You wrenched the freezer open, carelessly tossing the ice cream inside.

Why was she here?

Why did he let her inside?

Why was she touching him?

You turned back to the couch standing in front of Aemond and Alys.

She stood, tall on her long legs and reached a hand out to you, red painted nails like sharp claws pointed at you, “Alys.”

“I know.” You looked at her hand, not dignifying her with your name nor pleasantries.

She was an abuser, and with the way her face fell, the smile dropping completely, you knew the act was all fake.

Alys dropped her hand and stepped back to sit back down on the couch again, using it as an excuse to sit closer to him, thigh against his and hand back on his knee. You watched as Aemond’s eye flicked down to the hand, lips parting as he breathed shallowly.

The tip of her nail scratched against his thigh.

A false laugh fell from her lips, “Bad day at work, I’m guessing?” She smirked at you.

Your teeth ground against each other, “Work was fine. Just wasn’t expecting…” Your eyes flicked to Aemond, wishing he’d look at you, give you any indication that he needed help, but he didn’t, and when his eye met yours, there was resignation in it, “Company.” You spat.

Her pale hand lifted, tucking a strand of stray silver hair that had fallen in front of his face, behind Aemond’s ear.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t shy away.

He sat stiffly and allowed it.

“It was a spur of the moment visit.” A small giggle fell from her lips, “It’s been so long since we have seen each other, and I thought a reunion was in order. We have had a lot to catch up on.”

“Have you?” You asked, but your tone was directed to him.

Please give me a sign you need help.

Give me a sign you want her gone.

Aemond hummed, nodding in agreement.

Your heart sank again.

“I was thinking of cooking-“

“-Oh, we’ve already eaten. Haven’t we?” Alys interrupted you, looking at Aemond with a wide smile.

Your lips parted, and it felt like she had dug her perfectly manicured claws into your chest, gut turning.

Aemond didn’t meet your gaze, eye looking anywhere but you.

“I hope he hasn’t been causing you trouble.” The woman lightly joked, hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

The urge to cry reared its ugly head inside of you.

“He’s been the perfect gentleman.” You responded quietly, feeling all hope be sucked out of you.

You didn’t know what to do.

Another laugh, the sound grating in your ears, “That doesn’t sound like you.” She purred, double meaning not lost on you.

A blush creeped across your cheeks, and Alys narrowed her bright eyes at you once more.

Silence settled over the three of you, and you wished he would say something, or show you a sign that he wanted or needed your help, but no matter how long you stared at him, he refused to meet your gaze.

Alys cleared her throat primly, eyes sweeping across the room in mock discomfort, “I’m sorry, we haven’t spoken in some time.”

She was trying to dismiss you.

In your own home.

The anger was back.

Your arms crossed over your chest.

“And?” You held your ground.

This was his chance.

His last chance of an out if he wanted it.

If he needed it.

Alys sucked her tongue, jaw shifting in annoyance as she looked at you.

She thought this would be easy.

“I had hopes that me and Aemond could catch up…” She looked at you pointedly, “Alone.”

“You’re in my house.” You all but sneered.

“Y/n.” Aemond’s voice finally rose from the couch, but it did nothing but serve as a warning to you.

Stand down.

One last chance.

You looked at Aemond, pleading him with your eyes, asking him if he needed an out wordlessly one last time, but he didn’t take it, nor did it look like he needed it.

Aemond nodded at you with a slow blink.

And there it was.

Your dismissal.

Any hope that you had crashed back down to earth, shattering into a thousand different pieces as Alys smirked at you triumphantly. You set your jaw in a hard line, and turned on your foot, heading straight to your room and closing the door behind you.

Tears immediately overflowed from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks wetly. Sharp pain twisted in your chest and stomach, and a sense of shame and embarrassment curled around you.

How stupid had you been?

Why did you feel this way?

Did he invite her here?

Did he want to get back with her?

Were you nothing to him?

The way he had dismissed you hurt. The way he had stopped you from coming to his defence had hurt. And the way she had looked at you in triumph, the way she had touched him, and the way he didn’t stop her, hurt.

You laid in your bed, not bothering to get changed and cried into your pillow until the room grew dark, and the realm was bathed in night. You laid numbly in bed, stomach grumbling with hunger.

You checked your phone.

10pm.

Fuck.

You didn’t want to go to the kitchen, to eat and see her again. You knew that your eyes would be red, that you would be teary and emotional, and you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

Not too long after, you heard footsteps behind your door, the steady click of heels disappearing down the hall before you heard the front door open and shut softly. Your heart raced in your chest as you sat in the dark, listening and waiting to hear his footsteps disappear into his room so that you could leave yours.

You listened to the soft footfall as it came up the hall, pausing at your door.

Holding your breath, you sat up in your bed, looking under the door, the shadow of two feet blocking the light from the lounge room.

Time seemed to stretch forever and then finally-

Knock Knock.

You let out the breath you had been holding, looking at the crack beneath in the dark, mind turning a million miles an hour.

Do you go to him? See if he was okay?

Do you respect your own need for space?

Did he need comfort?

Was he angry?

A new thought turned in your mind. More bitter than the last.

Why would he be angry?

He’s the one who dismissed you in front of her, and all you could see was her smug smirk at you when he had done it. It had made you feel so small, so foolish, so unwanted and like a child again, sent to bed with no supper.

Knock Knock Knock.

You stared at the door.

You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t know what you could do.

“Y/n. Please.” His quiet voice came from behind the door.

You blinked in the dark, feeling tears begin to gather in your eyes again. Time stretched, and you watched his feet shift his weight and shuffle.

Aemond sighed from behind the door and you watched as his feet disappeared from view of the light underneath. Your stomach clenched, and an ache spread further into your chest.

You waited until you were sure that he was gone before you crawled out of bed, stomach pulling painfully in hunger.

You pressed an ear to the door, listening for any sounds of him outside, and when you heard no sign of his footsteps or the tv, you decided to leave your room.

You were halfway to the kitchen when you saw him, head in his hands on the couch.

He looked halfway to defeated, shoulders hunched forward as he breathed slowly. But he had heard your approach and you watched as all vulnerability bled out of him and he straightened, lifting his eye to look at you.

You locked in a stare, unsure of what to do as you looked at him, hoping he would speak first, hoping he would make the first move, because you didn’t know how to in that moment.

Didn’t know how to move forward or talk about what had just happened.

It didn’t help that you felt used.

And hurt.

And cast aside.

And you knew it was more complicated than that, but there was just something about the way he had dismissed you in front of a woman who had done so much damage to him. Dismissed you as though you were nothing. Called you his sisters roommate and not even his friend. Acquaintance. Someone he had spent over a month getting to know. Someone he had spent over a week sleeping in their bed, cock or tongue between thighs. Gentle whispers in the morning, soft smiles in the evening.

It made you feel like nothing.

It was clear that Aemond wasn’t going to say anything as you waited another pregnant pause, so you tore your eyes away from him and continued into the kitchen to make yourself some two minute noodles, meal that had been planned for the both of your forgotten.

You could feel his gaze on the back of your head, heated. It made your skin ripple in discomfort.

Filling a pot with water, you set it on the stove to boil, moving as quickly as you could to pull down a bowl and grab the noodle packet from the cupboard, tearing the sachet open and dumping the flavouring into the bowl.

You felt his presence behind you before you heard him speak.

“Are you okay?” He questioned you, and you fought to not scoff.

Why was he asking you that?

“Are you?” You replied back, turning to face him against the bench, waiting for the water to boil.

“I’m fine.” He said flatly, and you raised a singular brow at him in question.

Aemond’s face remained stoic.

“Why was she here, Aemond? If I had known-“

“-Why does it matter?”

You blanched.

Why did it matter?

“What do you mean why does it matter? She abused you, Aemond! I was worried about you.”

His brows pulled into a frown, “She didn’t abuse me. We just fought a lot.”

Denial.

“Aemond,” You said, voice softer this time, “It was abuse.”

Anger rippled across his face, “I wish you would just drop it. I shouldn’t have even told you.”

You stepped back in shock, hip bumping into a drawer handle sharply.

“I won’t just drop it. I’m worried about you.”

Aemond sighed through his nose, “I don’t need you to look after me.”

The water began to boil, and so did your patience, “I’m not saying you need me to. I care about you, Aemond. And so naturally it was a shock to come home and find her in the apartment after what you had told me- what- not even two weeks past?”

“She’s my ex, what did you want me to do?” He asked you incredulously, and you turned to dump the noodles in the water, watching them be swallowed down into the bubbles.

“I just don’t understand why you would bring her here in the first place without even telling me.” You looked up into his eye, and you could tell he was noting the way your own were red and puffy from crying.

His lips pursed and then flattened, “I’ll make sure to tell you before next time.”

“Next time?” You had to force yourself to not yell, feeling anger and sadness swirl around in your gut like a whirlpool, dragging you under.

“I didn’t- She just rocked up.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, but how did she know where you were, Aemond?”

The man stayed quiet, and there was something about it that made you step back away from him.

“Are you getting back with her?” You asked, voice quiet and weak, praying that you didn’t sound as pathetic as you thought you did to your own ears.

Silence again.

You blinked, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes again.

“After everything we- After- I thought-”

“-You thought what?” His voice was cool and even, void of any emotion, as though he had put himself behind a very thick door, lock and key.

“Are you getting back with her?” You asked again, voice uneven, cracking at the end heavily with emotion, thick lump stuck in your throat that wouldn’t go away no matter how hard you swallowed.

Again, silence, though something flickered behind Aemond’s eye, and you watched as his brow pulled froward.

Your heart raced in your chest, “Okay. So what was this then? Was this nothing?”

Aemond’s lips opened and then shut, once, twice, three times before a large sigh came from his lips, “I don’t know.”

Pain ravaged you sharply, tugging at your chest as you looked up at the man. You moved to the pot, straining the water out, turning your face away from him as you blinked away tears.

“You don’t know?”

His gaze was hot on the side of your face as you plopped the noodles into your bowl, turning to face him again, biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying. The only thing keeping you together, the process and mechanical way you made your dinner.

“I don’t know anything right now.” Aemond’s voice was low, “My heads a mess. Seeing Alys-”

Oh.

A terrible realisation dawned on you.

He still loves her.

A lone tear fell down your cheek, and you watched as Aemond’s hand twitched at his side, arm beginning to lift towards you.

You shook your head angrily, stepping away, swiping up the bowl of hot noodles, “I need to think.”

“Y/n, wait.”

You didn’t wait, and stormed away to your room, kicking the door shut behind you as you sat down, noodles forgotten beside the bed, sobs wracking your body as you cried.

He still loved her.

He still loved her, and you had been a fool to think that what you shared was anything else than casual to him.

At times you could have sworn his gazes lingered moments too long to be anything casual, but you guess you were wrong.

Wrong about it all.

An idiot.

But some of the grief that you felt was for him. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t see how bad she was for him. Couldn’t see how he didn’t deserve it. He was trapped, and there was nothing you could do to make him see.

People will only accept help if they allow it. And you could not force help on him. It was something he had to come to terms with on his own.

What was more, the guilt inside of you had been steadily eating at your resolve, gnawing away at you as you betrayed your best friend by sleeping with her brother.

But not only that, you think you were falling for him.

You reached for your phone, calling the only person you knew who would listen to you.

“Hey scuttle bug!” Helaena’s voice chirped sleepily from the other end, “Don’t tell me you’re drunk.” She joked, and a sad sob passed through your lips at the sound of it.

She was going to hate you.

She was never going to talk to you again.

And you deserved it.

“Hey,” She cooed into the phone, voice suddenly alert and filled with concern, “What’s wrong?”

You sucked in another sob, chest aching and stomach feeling wrought with anxiety, “You're going to hate me.” You cried, hiccup stuttering your uneven breath, “You’re going to hate me so much, Hel. I’ve ruined everything.”

You heard shuffling in the background, as though Helaena had sat herself up in bed, “What?” She listened to another broken sob come from your chest, “Y/n take some deep breaths, okay?”

You did as she said.

“What’s happened?”

This was it.

It was now or never.

No going back now.

And once the words would leave your lips, you would be banished from her life forever.

You were about to lose two people you held dearly to you.

You swiped tears away from your face in agitation, angry with yourself for what you had done, “I slept with Aemond.”

Silence on the other end.

Your heart broke.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Hel. I’m a terrible friend. I know I fucked up, I just don’t know what to do. I'm sorry. I know you hate me, I-“

“-Hey, hey, hey, slow down, bug. I don’t hate you.”

Your nails dug into your palm as you apologised again and again, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

Helaena tried to calm you on the other end, asking what happened, and so you told her everything, from start to finish, all the way up until your encounter not too long ago, bar the personal things about Alys that Aemond told you. That was his story to tell.

“I know what I’ve done is wrong, and you’ll never forgive me-“

“Y/n,” Helaena cooed on the other end of the phone, “I don’t hate you at all. Disappointed you didn’t tell me sooner, yeah,” You winced, another tear falling from your cheek, “But I had a feeling it would happen.”

You sniffled, “What?”

Helaena laughed on the other end softly, not at you, but in a knowing way that she always had, “I mean, I always assumed it would. You’re both so similar. You’d be perfect if he wasn’t such an asshole.”

“He’s not an asshole.” You immediately defended him, cringing at your own voice.

Helaena hummed in a way that Aemond usually did, and it made your heart clench.

You heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, followed by some muffled whispering.

“Where are you right now?” Helaena asked softly, mumbling to someone again.

Confused you responded, “In my room?”

You thought it would be obvious where you were.

“Daeron’s just organised a ride and a plane for you to come to the Keep.”

You blanched, surprised, “Hel, I can’t. I have work.”

“Fuck work.” She exclaimed on the other side, “My best friend needs me, and I need her. Besides, can’t cancel it now, the drivers on his way.”

“What?” You were breathless, panic rising inside of you.

You heard Helaena yawn on the other end, “Better pack your bag quickly, should be there in like twenty if we’re lucky. I’ll tell mum to tell Larys you need time off. He won’t and can’t say no to her.”

“Hel-“

“No ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’. You’re coming.”

You smiled sadly, grateful that she was such a good friend but feeling like a burden. She was going to fly you to her, whilst her dad was sick, and because what? You had fucked her brother, developed feelings for him, and he had all but rejected you?

But Helaena knew you too well.

“You’re not a burden, and you need some space right now. Aemond does too, and he won’t come here. He needs some time alone to think of what he wants and process seeing Alys.”

You bit your lip and chewed on it softly, “Okay.” You paused not sure what to do, “Thank you, I know I don’t-“

“-Shush. You already had an invitation to come here anyway, so no time like the present. You can atone for your sins by giving me a hug when you get here and telling me the longer story of what has happened. Not to mention get Aegon out of my hair. He’s been such a pest.”

You chuckled softly. You didn’t know what you would do without her, you felt relieved that she wasn’t going to cast you out of her life, though the guilt still lingered, multiplying tenfold by her generosity.

Helaena stayed on the phone with you the entire time as you packed, telling you what to bring and what not to bring. By the time your bag was full and you were ready to go, the driver was downstairs.

You opened your bedroom door, darkness shrouding the apartment.

Your eyes immediately flicked to Aemond’s.

It was closed.

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mysticheathenn · 2 months

Text

Why Are You Ugly? Your Traits, Habits, Etc...

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card is really just for fun. Please don't take most of what is here seriously unless it resonates. This is just to show some of your features or traits that others deem unattractive. Again this is meant to be fun and not a dig at you..unless you like shit like that then by all means do you.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

Pile l:

Tarot: 5 of Swords, 5 of Cups / Strength (reversed), 2 of Swords

Pile l others find you "ugly" because you are a coward who lack direction in their life. The phrase from the movie Clueless "You're a virgin who can't drive" just popped into my head. Not only that but you like to cry wolf while also not doing anything with your life. Ex. "I'm so lazy, a fatass, etc" but then you continue to scroll on TikTok and not apply yourself in areas of your life you want to change. You may also like to point fingers at other people whenever something doesn't happen the way you want it to go and blame everyone else except for the matter for what it is, sometimes yourself.

Oracle: Talent/Dreams (Reversed), Life Purpose The TikTok meme "You are looking so cute doing ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING GET YOUR ASS UP. GET YOUR ASS UP." For those who don't know the meme here is the link to the original video: http://tinyurl.com/3fa4xth2

Pile ll:

Tarot: 3 of Swords / The Magician / 6 of Swords (All Reversed), 5 of Pentacles.

The only thing you like to let go of is money pile ll. Anything else in your life you like to hold onto especially toxic people and grudges and sometimes for no dam reason. Someone could step on your 5-year-old shoes and say sorry but because they stepped on your shoe you're out for revenge...okay maybe some of you may not be that petty but you still like to hold grudges and then wonder why no one or barely anyone is in your life...it's because you let people go for breathing wrong pile ll. Someone says your name in a tone you aren't familiar with, blocked. Someone didn't bring you food even though you said you weren't hungry, block. Again maybe not this crazy for some of you but you get it. You may have also been attracted a bit to pile one because you also don't like to do sh*t with your life and when you do decide to do sh*t with your life if it doesn't happen fast enough for you, you give up as if everything is supposed to bend you to your will when, where, and how you want it.

Oracle: Prosperity/Love (reversed), Trust

There's a lyric to a song that I can't think of but the song part that is playing in my head is "That's why you believe in lies..."...I wish I knew the song but that is the only part of it that keeps playing with no melody in my head. Learn to trust...not only yourself but others and love yourself. Let love in your life without treating everything like a checklist or transaction. Also, stop overspending, pick up a Financial literacy book or course and learn how to save, plan, and budget your money properly.

Pile lll:

Tarot: Death, 8 of Wands, The Fool, Knight of Wands

Pile lll your trait that others may deem "ugly/unappealing" isn't so much of a bad thing. you were probably told when you were younger that you always were "Acting fast" or if not people as an adult tell you all the time that you are always on the move as if you are on the run. You can't sit still maybe you have or deal with ADHD. Every time you get a new idea, or opportunity, or you see something that could possibly get you ahead in life you are on it and you never think about whether this is the right move for you? Is this opportunity legit? or anything else substantial that you need to make sure that you land safely, if not safely at least have a parachute when you jump. You may also move from job to job similar to pile ll anytime you see even a milligram of bullsh*t you are out of there. "Miller when you are done running and want to make a home, make it with me." Book Quote from the book Caught Up by Liz Tomforde (love that book) it's about a female who is always on the run and she does a favor for her dad and nanny one of his teammate's son and when they start falling for each other he says that to her. I am getting this is more so from your higher self pile lll. When you are done running from your past, inner thoughts, poverty, chasing gimmicks, and temporary people go back to yourself and actually see what exactly do you want to do, what is your purpose, what is something you can build for your life that is stable and secure than these fleeting moments you keep trying to create for yourself. Some of you may be either in situationships that you hate or like to have a lot of flings only to feel lonely afterward.

Oracle: Boundaries, Life Purpose, Compassion

This goes back to the quote in your reading pile lll. Stop running from yourself and the things you really want vs the things you chase.... I may do a reading on this let me know if you want that or not. Either way show yourself more compassion and place boundaries on yourself not others. You have no problem in that department for a lot of you but others you need boundaries for yourself and others.

REMEMBER THIS IS MEANT TO BE A FUN READING AND NOT AN ATTACK.

Thank you to everyone who are subscribed to my Patreon and those who like and reblog my pick-a-card readings. I always appreciate you. I hope you enjoyed this reading.

Until next time, stay safe and blessed.

#tarotcommunity #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot cards #witchblr #pac tarot #pick a pile #pac reading #tarot reading #pick a photo #pick a picture

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