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rosemaryfollows · 2 days

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hii!! i was wondering if you could make a Vox X Reader fic, where Vox is a bit clingy & overprotective (but he’d never admit that), and wants y/n to stay at the Vees headquarters like all the time, but y/n is considering trying to get redeemed at the hazbin hotel, and since Alastor runs that hotel, Vox gets quite pissy & jealous, but he also wants to see y/n happy, so it’s a bit of a mental conundrum, but in the end Vox convinces y/n to stay with him (and then it could either go fluffy where they cuddle, or smutty where they…. get it on!)

why leave?

|| note: sorry if this got a little darker in topic LOL! I wrote this half asleep XP ||

|| word count: 1062! ||

Vox voiced his main concern to you over and over again, pleading with you to change your mind. But that was one of the reasons his walls had finally fallen, your sheer stubborn nature.

"Vox, I already told you.. The rest of my family is up in heaven.. I have a chance to see them again!"

"And I told you, dearest," He paused, laughing as his hands rested on your hips, claws digging in as he pulled you chest to chest with him, "I can give you everything you need down here.. Whatever it is you want, tell me.. I can do it for you. I'd do it all for you." He mumbled, his voice sickly sweet as he spoke, "I'd create my own hotel if it just meant you stay with me."

Your heart ached at the sight, your dear Vox in front of you, pleading for any other outcome than the one where you leave him.. Alone.. The thought of it made you bite your lip, glancing to a nearby window, catching sight of the white orb sitting in the sky.. It almost burnt your eyes staring at it, hope fluttering in your chest.

Vox's hands quickly came up and turned your head to face him again, forcing you to look at him, "Please, _______." He seemed truly genuine for a moment, even dropping to his knees and wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. "Please, we can talk about this.." He sounded truly heartbroken.. But when he looked up at you and those all too familiar rings where pulsing through his eyes..

You, couldn't even remember what you two had been talking about.. You.. You had looked outside and then.. When you turned your head to look out the same window, you found the window blacked out, same with the one next to it, and the one next to that.. You shook your head and looked down at the last place you remember seeing Vox, on the floor..

What was he doing down there? Where was he now?? You spun on your heel, looking around the room you two had been in, spotting no sign of him, not even a sign of, anyone, to be honest. You walked out of the room, looking up and down the hall cautiously, walking down the long corridors, making your way to Vox's office, your head spinning as the bright lights seemed brighter than usual.. You swore your pupils were blown out from how much they were hurting. You passed one of the several mirrors Valentino had hung up around the tower, almost missing it.

Almost.

You had taken a few steps past it, before stumbling back to inspect yourself. And your newly blackened sclera.. You fall back to the other side of the hallway, the obvious sign that you sold your soul away staring back at you. That, wasn't there before.. Or, maybe it was.. You couldn't tell, you just knew that you wanted Vox, for him to hold you in his arms, tell you it was all going to be alright. You stagger away from the mirror, finally making progress up to the office where Vox could almost always be found.

The circle shaped double doors opened up for you, the sound of the metal scrapping against itself made your ears ring uncomfortably, your hands coming up to cover your ears as you looked down the stretch into the office, seeing things flicker on and off the screens in Vox's office, he was in here. You tried your hardest to call out to him, but found your vocal cords to be useless.

Vox spared you of trying to get his attention, turning around in his chair and standing up, arms open. The screens cleared of any little tabs that had been open, "______! There you are! Just the girl I wanted to see!" He made his way to you, and you met him halfway, clinging to his waist as tears burned in your lashes. You tried hard to say anything, looking up at him, tears streaming down your face as you tried to make him understand you.

"Woah, woah darling! Calm down! I understand, I do!" He pulled you into his body, his arms fitting snug around you. "I get it, you've told me about your accident before.. How you lost your voice.. It's truly upsetting.. I wish I could've been there when you woke from that nightmare.. I'm sorry dearest." A small kiss was pressed onto the top of your head.

What the fuck was he talking about?? You weren't in an accident! You could talk perfectly just a few.. A few.. You knew you could talk! Right..? You just shake your head and lean into him, hands gripping the back of his suit jacket, hands shaking as you pull away and point at your eyes, trying to see what he has to say about them. He just tilts his head a bit to the side before a cocky laugh leaves him, "Your eyes..? I can see you're crying, dear. See?" His screen opened a tab in the place of his face, showing your almost pathetic expressions, your eyes back.. to normal? Wait but..

You just sobbed silently into your hands and you try and make sense of what was happening. His hand rubbed almost mockingly against your back as he tried to soothe you, your chest tightening up as you found the air in the room stuffy and uncomfortable. What was he talking about? Nightmares and, what about your eyes? You knew what you saw, right? You pulled your own phone out of your pocket in a panic, scrambling to look at yourself in the camera. But the second you turned the screen on, it turned into a blank white, refusing to show you your own reflection. You look up at Vox with so much hurt in your eyes.

He glances down at your phone and laughs, plucking it out of your hands and crushing it like it was make of wafers and cream instead of his oh so precious tech. "Ah, and older model, I'll get you a replacement right away, for now, let's get you back into bed with a nice warm blanket huh?" He used his hands to straighten up your posture, smoothing out your clothes before leading you off to the bedroom you two shared.

|| note: 🇮🇫 🇾🇴🇺 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇲🇾 🇨🇴🇳🇹🇪🇳🇹, 🇧🇪 🇸🇺🇷🇪 🇹🇴 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇦🇳🇩 🇷🇪🇧🇱🇴🇬!! <3 ||

|| last note: sorry i've been away!! my nephew was born a few weeks ago so i haven't had a lot of time to focus on this!! ||

#valentino mention #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vees #the vees #vox the tv demon #vox hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor mention #rosemaryfollows #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin x reader

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redlegumes · 4 months

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Just got over an intense week of flu and had thoughts

Stranger Things: Season Five, like... three episodes in

Kids: "Man if we only still had Eddie"

Steve rubs his jaw, shoots look at Robin. "Weeeell"

Cue outrage, very under explained 'we went back for him.' Cuts to them picking through the Upside Down. Cut away before we see Eddie's face.

Steve: "He's been living with me"

There's a reunion scene (of course) 2 to 5 minutes of screen time with another under-baked explanation that Eddie is 'like Will now.' Then a lil montage of them raiding Steve's house for whatever (maybe we get a parents cameo that's not really fleshed out either - I'm not trying to be greedy) while they prep for the next plot point.

Kids call for Eddie and Steve and they crash out of a closet or room looking ™ disheveled. Eddie just kind of 'oop, right past yahs' the group, and they look at Steve who makes a face and says, "what? I'm an equal opportunity kinda guy."

They go off to do the plot and for the rest of the season we get some close talking images of Steve and Eddie but it's always in the background, interrupted by kids or whatever. Before le big showdown. Lots of emotional hugs and chats with Robin enough where we completely give up hope on the Eddie and Steve thing BUT THEN, a blink and you miss it, handhold - lipstare - heavy atmosphere moment between Steve and Eddie.

The epilogue focuses only on the party (because fuck you Duffers, I dare you not to film it like you didn't know exactly how much time you'd have to wrap this saga), but there's some sort of Eddie job reference letting us know effectively that he's exonerated and alive, and a picture with a card of Steve and his family framed or on a fridge that's obscured enough so we could speculate that Eddie is the partner the fuzzy 'Steve' is holding.

And that. That would be enough.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 months

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Gīsītsos (little ghost)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Fingering, dubcon, smut. Word count: ~3.7k

Summary: As part of the Red Keep's serving staff, she knows it is better to remain unseen by the family she tends to. Unfortunately for her, an incident involving the second of the Targaryen sons means his gaze is now firmly fixed upon her.

Author's note: For @targaryen-dynasty's sleepover challenge. I was given the AU "meet cute" and the prompt "we have to be quiet". I have put my own little spin on both of these to suit my preference for canon and my particular writing style. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on notifications. Community labels are for cops.

There is an unspoken rule among the serving staff of the Red Keep; remain unseen and unheard whenever possible. Move as a spectre through the castle, do not draw attention to the mess you are employed to clean up. Those they serve do not wish to be reminded of their imperfections. Blissful ignorance is placed upon the pristine condition of the chambers they return to at the end of each day. They have always been that way, how could they not be? But beneath it lies an undercurrent of I do not wish to see it, do not make me look.

She is content to remain out of sight and mind of the Targaryen family, though her work is thankless, there is serenity to be found in the duties of a maidservant. As long as she completes the tasks assigned to her, then she is otherwise unbothered, and she considers herself fortunate to have a comparatively easy workload to some of the others.

The maidservants that attend to Prince Aegon’s bedchamber are ordered to work in pairs, partly because the mess he so often leaves behind is work enough for two, but also because he is known to sleep late, and there is safety in numbers. A chill runs down her spine at the memory of the whisperings that had passed between the staff about Dyana, brought before the Queen and forced to drink moon tea, before being relieved of her employment from the Keep. From that point on, the maidservants were forbidden from entering his rooms alone, lest they find themselves victim of the Prince’s wandering hands and lustful appetite.

There is no such danger to be found within the sleeping quarters of Prince Aemond, which she is in charge of tending to each day. He makes her job almost too easy, but she does not allow her guilt to weigh heavily enough upon her that she would ask for additional duties, instead she gives thanks to the Seven for this small mercy and ensures she finishes each day having completed her tasks to an impeccable standard.

As she tugs the crisp white sheets of the bed firmly back into place each morning, there is no lingering body heat or scent to be found, indicating he has been awake for hours. She wonders if he sleeps at all, considering the unrumpled state of his bedding. When she strips the sheets off to change them once a week, there are no personal effects that fall loose, no trace that the Prince she serves exists at all. He is as much an apparition as she is.

When she is finished making up the bed or delivering the old sheets to the laundress, she sweeps the ashes from the hearth and readies the fireplace for Aemond’s return. Aside from that, there is little else to do besides lightly dust the shelves and reorganise the books placed upon his table. She never once sees the Prince, nor does he see her.

The most strenuous of jobs is the one she currently finds herself doing; the once weekly wash of the bedchamber floor, which requires her to get down upon her hands and knees with a brush and scrub the flagstones with a mixture of hot water and lye. The floor is hard upon her knees, her back aching, and knuckles sore from the combination of the soap and how tightly she grips the brush.

Satisfied that there is not an inch left unclean, she drops the scrubbing brush into the bucket, groaning softly as her knees twinge in protest as she stands. She swipes at the perspiration upon her forehead with the back of her hand, before reaching behind her to soothe ache in her lower back.

She freezes as her elbow collides with something on the desk, her heart feeling as though it stops beating within her chest as she hears the heavy splash of it fall into the bucket behind her, splattering dirty water against her skirt.

Snapping herself out of her shock, she quickly turns, seeing she has knocked a book from the table into the water she had been using to wash the floor. Dread swirls in her belly as she stoops to lift it out, her mind running rampant with thoughts of how much trouble she’ll be in if she has ruined one of Prince Aemond’s belongings. At best, she would lose her job. At worst, she is unsure, but she does not wish to fall foul of the man that rides the world’s largest dragon.

Drying off the leatherbound cover with her apron, she is relieved to see her swift action has prevented any serious damage, though the pages within are sodden. She cannot return it to the desk in this condition, so she tucks the book under her arm and picks up the bucket, walking quickly out of the Prince’s chambers, and back towards the servants’ quarters. If she can get it dried and return it in time, then hopefully he will be none the wiser to her mishap.

The scullion keeps the fire in the shared space ablaze all day, and she settles in front of it, opening the dampened book, careful not to place it so close that the parchment might singe. Happy to see the water has not soaked through far enough to smudge the ink, she turns the pages carefully while they dry, her eyes scanning the words. It is a tome of philosophy, far beyond the realm of her comprehension. It serves as a reminder of the divide between her and the Prince, she is beneath such intellectual pursuits. She imagines he would be infuriated that a lowly maidservant would ever dare to read it, and finds herself hunching over the book as it dries, subconsciously concealing it from view, as though she is engaging in something forbidden and shameful.

After an hour, the heat of the fire has returned the book to its original state, or at least as close as it’s going to get. She makes haste to return it to where it belongs, hoping that Prince Aemond will not yet have returned to his chambers. Her skin is heated, a combination of having been so close to the open fireplace for an hour and nervousness at the idea of being caught.

She enters the bedchamber without knocking, expecting it to still be empty, and moves swiftly on light feet, returning the book back to the desk it had laid upon previously.

“An enjoyable read, was it?”

The voice is soft, yet its sinister edge sends a shiver up her spine, causing her breath to catch in her throat. She turns slowly, keeping her head bowed, not daring to meet the unblinking stare of the One Eyed Prince.

“Your Grace,” she utters meekly, “please accept my apologies. I did not mean to intrude.”

“And you did not answer my question either.”

She dares to look up then, watching in wide eyed horror as he walks slowly towards her, dressed in his sparring attire, his expression impassive.

Swallowing thickly, ignoring everything within her that desperately wants to lower her gaze, she forces herself to hold it. “I did not read it, I swear, I would never be so discourteous.”

“Hm,” he murmurs, standing tall in front of her, “a pity. ‘Tis an interesting text. So, tell me, what were you doing with it?”

He is standing so close to her, she can feel the tickle of his breath upon her flesh, see the angry, red indentation of the scar that runs the length of the left hand side of his face, disappearing beneath the leather patch that covers his eye. There is something in the way he looks at her that makes her want to shrink into herself, but she fears she has forever shrugged off the shroud of invisibility that has until now protected her. His eye is piercing, a silent threat. I see you.

She considers lying, but decides it will be worse for her than simply telling the truth, if he catches her out. “I…I accidentally got the book wet while I was cleaning. I took it away to the servants’ quarters to dry it.”

Aemond leans his body into hers, and she can feel the warmth that radiates from his chest, smell the sweat that lingers on his skin from his exertion in the training yard. She screws her eyes shut, icy fingers of fear gripping her insides as she awaits her punishment, but then the heat of him is gone.

Slowly opening her eyes, she sees that he is still standing in front of her, but his attention is now focused upon his book as he flips through the pages, studying it for signs of damage. He had simply reached behind her to retrieve it. The relief that floods her is enough to make her want to laugh, but she knows better, biting it back as she exhales heavily through her nose.

Satisfied that his book is unruined, he snaps it shut, holding it with both hands as he looks at her once more. “Are you always this clumsy?”

She gapes at this, white hot embarrassment radiating from head to toe. “N-no, never. It was an accident, Your Grace, I swear it.”

He smirks, cocking his head. “Perhaps I ought to keep a closer eye on you?”

Please, no.

She wants to leave, to be away from the intensity of how he looks upon her, to have him forget her face and allow her to go back to being invisible.

“I promise I will take greater care in future, Your Grace. I apologise. Can I go?”

He raises an eyebrow at this. “I do not know. Can you?”

This is humiliating. Is he getting some sort of satisfaction from this?

“If that will be all, Your Grace.”

She bows her head to him and hurries from the room, feeling her heartbeat in her throat with every step that she takes. She can sense his eye upon her, boring a hole into the back of her, long after she has left his chambers, and it fills her with a sense of unease for the rest of the day. Her only solace is that she can return to her duties upon the morrow without having to see him.

However, as she enters the bedchamber the following morning she is horrified to find the Seven have decided her spell of good fortune has come to its end. Prince Aemond still occupies the space, standing at the foot of the bed as he fastens his tunic. Halting her steps, she lingers uncertainly, not knowing what she ought to do.

He stares at her as he continues to dress, not making any moves to alleviate her discomfort, and she takes a tentative step back.

“Should I come back?” She asks warily, glancing over her shoulder towards the door - it has never appeared so inviting.

“No need,” he assures her, “do what you need to.”

She hesitates a moment longer, but realising she is in no position to protest, she begins the task of turning down the bed. She can feel him looking at her the entire time, making her feel self conscious. There has never been an audience to spectate over her daily tasks before, and she moves as though she is suspended in honey, afraid to make a mistake while he is watching, despite the fact that these are duties she has performed hundreds of times before.

To her frustration, he moves as slowly as she does, unhurriedly clasping on his sword belt and pulling on his boots, watching her all the while, but never speaking a word. It is not until she begins sweeping away the ashes from the fireplace that he finally takes his leave, silently striding from the room without addressing her further.

For the first time since she entered Aemond’s chambers that morning she feels as though she can breathe, although a voice in the back of her mind tells her she has not seen the last of Aemond, and he certainly has no desire to see less of her.

Over the next few days, he is there every time she arrives, either in the process of dressing, or still laying in bed, causing her to turn away, ashamed at the way excitement flutters in her lower belly at the sight of his well defined bare chest.

He is doing this on purpose, she knows he is, abusing the imbalance of power between them, because she cannot ask him to stop. He is not really even doing anything wrong; it is not uncommon for maidservants to be in the presence of those they serve as they perform their duties, yet there is something about this that feels completely improper. The way his stare lingers upon her, stalking her as though she is prey, it both frightens her and fills her with a sense of mortification, because she knows that, deep down, there is a part of her that likes the fact that his attention is on her. The veil between them has been lifted, and now that she has gotten to know what resides on the other side, at least a little, she thinks of nothing else. It is both exciting and terrifying to have someone in such a position of authority so interested in her and what she does.

It is the day she strips the bed in order to place fresh sheets upon it, and she enters the bedchamber prepared to have to wait for the Prince to vacate it first. However, she finds that he is already gone for the day. Unsure if it is relief or disappointment that she feels, she immediately begins to pull back the bedding, deciding she would prefer not to dwell on the hollow feeling that has settled within her chest.

As she tugs the bedsheet loose from beneath the corner of the mattress, a small piece of parchment flutters from it, landing softly on the flagstones beside the wooden bedframe. Nothing has ever fallen from Aemond’s bed before, he is much too tidy, and so her curiosity is immediately piqued.

Plucking it from the floor, her mouth runs dry at the words she finds penned delicately in black ink.

Though I am absent, I think of you.

Was this meant for her to find? She feels foolish for considering such a notion, and yet she cannot shift the idea that it might be. Her hands shake as she holds the note, her mind reeling with thoughts of what she ought to do with it: keep it, cast it into the fireplace, put it back and pretend she has not seen it?

The latter is impossible, he would notice the fresh sheets upon the bed and know that she has found it. Perhaps she is being presumptuous, and this has been left for him by a bedmate? She decides to simply place it upon the desk, and leave it up to the Prince to decide its fate.

Though she attempts to continue her day as normal, thoughts of Aemond and the contents of his note will not allow her any peace. She wonders if it is indeed her that he is thinking of, and if it would satisfy him to know that he haunts her mind in equal measure. If only she had never knocked that wretched book into the bucket, then she would be free of this torment.

Aemond is fully clothed as she walks into his rooms the following day, standing beside his desk. There is absolutely no reason for him to linger, but she knows precisely why he does, her suspicions confirmed when she spies the note clasped between his fingers.

“You read it?” He asks, lifting his gaze to meet hers as she enters.

“Was I not supposed to?” She asks quietly, setting down the basket which contains the brushes and rags she uses for sweeping and dusting.

“I left it where only you would find it,” he retorts, allowing the parchment to flutter back down upon the desk. “What do you think?”

“I do not know, Your Grace,” she responds simply, attempting to keep her focus on meticulously unloading her supplies.

“Leave that,” he orders coolly. “Come here.”

She trembles as she steps slowly towards him, and he rounds on her, caging her between himself and the desk, its wooden edge biting into her lower back.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

The trace of his fingertip leaves a trail of heat in its wake. She feels dizzy, overwhelmed, the urge to run and her body’s insistence at remaining rooted to the spot at direct odds with one another.

“Please,” she whispers, “do not. It is improper.”

His hand drops to his side and he regards her with a look of amusement. “I am not my brother. I will not take anything that is not given freely. But I suspect you want this as much as I do. Tell me I am wrong.”

“Your Grace, I–I…”

The words die in her throat, what can she say? A maidservant cannot speak of her desire for the Prince she serves. How can she give voice to the fact that since he first acknowledged her, he has plagued her every waking thought?

“Say the word, and things shall go back to as they were before, we shall be strangers once more.”

That is certainly the easier of the two options, and yet the idea of having to live without his attention now she knows the sweet torment of what it is to have it seems unfathomable to her. She is playing a dangerous game, treading a knife’s edge, placing herself directly in harm’s way, and the words she speaks next will forever change her life’s trajectory, but as she stares up into his piercing blue eye her judgement is too clouded for her to mind.

“I do not want that,” she says earnestly.

“I want you to beg for it,” he tells her, the slightest hint of malice in his tone.

She feels a stickiness between her thighs, a dull throbbing ache in her core that makes her nerves sing for release. Her voice is foreign to her, pathetic sounding as the single utterance of “please” tumbles from her lips.

“Please what?” Aemond asks, tilting his head, mocking her as he looms over her, keeping her pinned against the desk behind her.

Under ordinary circumstances, she would feel ashamed by such lewd behaviour, but these are no ordinary circumstances, and her actions are driven solely by desire, so she feels no chagrin as she allows herself to murmur “please touch me”.

The Prince’s deft fingers make quick work of moving up her skirt, ghosting along the inside of her thigh as he goes, causing her to suck in a shaky breath as she grips his shoulders for support.

She mewls helplessly as his middle and index fingers work their way beneath her smallclothes, dragging through her silken folds, wet with arousal.

Aemond hums in appreciation as his digits explore her, his entire hand moving beneath the thin cotton of her undergarments, cupping her mound. She exhales a shocked gasp as he pushes two fingers forcefully inside of her.

His free hand clasps over her mouth, muffling her sounds, as he works his fingertips inside of her at a lazy pace. “We have to be quiet,” he tells her, “or we will get caught, and we cannot have that.”

She nods in understanding, whimpering against his palm as his thumb begins to circle her pearl, the pumping of his fingers increasing in pace, the sticky sounds of her arousal accompanying her stifled whines of pleasure.

They have not even shared a kiss, there is no romance to be found here, but she does not mind. If anything, the depravity of the act serves to heighten the sensations and renders her more responsive to his touch.

His eye bores into hers, the pupil so large it almost eclipses the blue of it, his lips parted slightly as his nostrils flare. He crooks his fingers, brushing against a spot inside of her that causes her to buck against his hand. He grins wickedly, speeding up his movements both inside of her and against her bud.

The pleasurable ache she feels building winds tightly within her gut, and her thighs tremble with the effort of keeping her upright. Her fingernails dig into the fabric of Aemond’s tunic, as she feels her body tense in preparation for what’s to come.

With a final press of his fingers, she falls apart, her cry almost silenced by his hand over her mouth as she breathes erratically through her nose. She tightens around him in quick pulses as waves of warm relief pass through her body, making her pliant against him.

She maintains her grasp on his shoulders, not trusting her shaking legs to keep her upright as he releases her mouth and withdraws his hand from beneath her skirt, his fingers glistening with her release.

He tuts, examining them carefully as he holds them up between them both. “What a mess you’ve made”, he says condescendingly, pressing them against her lips and forcing them into her mouth. The taste of herself upon her tongue is tart, the very idea of what she is doing lewd to her. “Something else for you to clean up,” he coos, watching as she sucks her essence from his fingers.

With these words she is brought crashing back down to earth as she is reminded of the power imbalance between them. She will always be the woman who tends to his messes, who serves him, except now she is also a vessel for his pleasure and, whatever the outcome of that may be, it is too late now to take it back. He has seen her, fully, and she will only ever see of him what he allows her to.

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creative-caramel-coffee · 16 days

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Left Behind and Bleeding

Summary: you’ve been feeling forgotten all week when your period shows up you just want to curl up and hide. Will your girlfriends look after you this time?

TW: Angst, periods, being forgotten, anxiety, feeling left out, abandonment issues, self-doubt, mentions of drug use, teasing

Words: 1.2K

A/n: it’s that time of the month when I hit you with another period fic lol. Sorry it’s a bit short. Also … I may be projecting again … maybe hehe.

It had been a bad few days to say the least. To start off you had plans to hang out with Natasha, but she got given a last-minute mission, so you had to postpone. Which would have been fine on its own, but it seemed yo have sparked a pattern.

All week people had been cancelling on you, having some reason or another that seemed valid at the time but looking back made you overthink.

Wanda had some people she needed to visit, and you understood. But everyone seemed to be prioritising other things. Even your mother wasn’t answering your calls. Leading you to believe she was either dead or ignoring you.

On the fourth day of having nobody to hang out with in the usually very busy tower, you were getting fed up.

Your mind had been trying to spin a story that everyone simply didn’t like you. That they would rather hang out with other people and that you really didn’t have anyone in your corner.

Of course, you had been fighting the notion for days now, but it was getting harder to ignore as people continued to have bigger, better things to do without you.

Nat had gotten back from her mission and had immediately gone to do some training and after you caught her watching a movie with Clint. You had moped around your room all afternoon, feeling like you were a B-list avenger at best.

Your mind had convinced you that nobody cared and so you had spent the afternoon crying alone in your room.

When dinner came, it seemed everyone had returned. Something you had not been counting on, so your eyes were still red and puffy when Jarvis announced dinner.

In a panic you threw on some sunglasses in an attempt to keep the others from finding out.

Yet it had simply orchestrated a point of teasing for the whole meal. Everyone wanted to know why you were wearing them, but you kept your head down and tried to seem cheerful.

Sam was trying to convince people that you must have been high, while wanda could practically hear your loud thoughts from the other end of the table. Her and Nat exchanged expressions when you got up from the meal not even halfway through.

Feeling awful you almost cried when you got back to your room to discover your period had started.

Life seemed to be throwing more than a few curveballs at you, it was throwing the full field.

You stuck in a pad and threw on some warm pjs before crawling under the covers and letting a few tears fall while your breathing evened out.

Wanda had finished her dinner around the same time as Natasha had so, they had met up in the kitchen while washing their dishes.

“Wanda?” Nat asked from where she was drying her plate off.

“Yeah?” Wanda asked, her hands covered in suds.

Nat chewed her lip for a second before carefully selecting her words. “Was there … anyone off with Y/n these last few days?” Nat asked.

“I don’t know why?” Wanda said and Nat frowned.

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’ werent you here?” Nat said.

“No? I told you I was visiting friends for a few days.” Wanda said.

“Oh my god.” Nat said feeling bad. “Did we both ditch her for a week?”

“No? I mean surely, she had the others to hang out with. Right?” Wanda said.

“Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling.

“Yes, Ms Romanoff what can I do for you?” The AI responded.

“Who in the past week has cancelled plans with Y/n?” Nat asked.

“In the past week I believe each of the avengers have been either ‘too busy’ or had ‘other plans’ to spend time with Ms L/n.” Jarvis said.

“Oh god.” Wanda said. “Jarvis? What has Y/n been doing this past week?”

“Ms L/n has spent most of her time in her room. Either sleeping or crying. She also has been avoiding everyone for the last half of the week.” Jarvis said and Wanda and Natasha’s hearts broke.

“We are the worst girlfriends ever.” Wanda said feeling awful.

“We should go check on her.” Nat agreed and the two of them headed for the lift.

When they stood outside your bedroom door Natasha hesitated for a second.

“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Nat asked.

“Im sure she will, it’s Y/n. She may be sad but her hearts still twenty-four carat.” Wanda said and Nat nodded and knocked.

When no response came, she gently opened the door. Making out a Y/n shaped lump in the bed she entered and quietly walked over to your side.

Wanda took note of the chocolate wrappers on your bedside table and the hot water bottle you had cuddled up to.

You had seemingly used your powers to heat up the water-bottle and your brow was creased in pain.

“Nat?” Wanda said and Natasha nodded.

“I see.” She said.

Wanda sighed and slipped into bed behind you. Gently playing with your hair as Nat went to search for some pain medicine for you, knowing that you wouldn’t have taken any yet.

Wanda rubbed slow circles on your back and brushed a hand onto your cheek.

“Y/n baby, can you open your eyes for me my love?” Wanda asked softy. You let out a small whimper and Wanda’s heart melted.

“Wands?” You asked in a small voice.

“Yes, baby its me.” She said pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheekbone.

“Hurts.” You said softly and she nodded.

“Natty’s gone to get you some medicine.” Wanda said just as Natasha walked back in with some pills and a glass of water.

“Here you go my sweet girl.” Nat said as wanda helped sit you up, leaning into her side.

Nat passed you the medicine and you took it without protest, telling both girls just how bad you were really feeling.

“I’m sorry we weren’t here my love.” Nat said brushing a curl from your cheek.

“That’s ok. You had important things to do.” You mumbled into Wanda’s chest where you had buried your face.

“Baby girl, nothings more important than you.” Wanda said stroking your hair.

“Why don’t we put on a movie, and you can try and get some sleep ok?” Nat said gently and you nodded, shuffling over to make room for her on the bed.

Wanda used her magic to open the small mini fridge in the room and floated a pint of your favourite icecream and three spoons over.

“I got this for you before I left my love.” Wanda said with a smile passing you a spoon.

Natasha slipped in beside you and Wanda, passing you the remote you put on an episode of Parks and Recreation as you began to eat some icecream and cuddle.

After a few spoonfuls Nat stole the container, Afterall you have been making a mess. There was even icecream on your nose which wanda softly kissed away, making you giggle as you begun doze in the presence of your two amazing girlfriends.

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sushis-wild-imagination · 18 days

Text

Battling my head (Dokyeom x reader)

As a migraine girlie, I just want someone to take care of me when I’m going through it, that’s exactly what this is.

Genre: : fluff fluff only fluff

I WANT A dokyeom in my life. Im open to fic requests!

Seventeen fics Masterlist

"Can you spot her?" Dokyeom asks you over the loud music.

You shake your head feeling a little uneasy already. It was a little too loud and you hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.

You were at a party with Dokyeom, it was one of your best friend's birthdays and she decided the club would be the best place to celebrate so her single self could get some guys to take home. You chuckled at her idea when she pitched it to you, but of course went along.

She also mentioned you could bring your boyfriend of 2 years, Dokyeom, to the party because her brother is good friends with Dokyeom and he's going to be there too.

You knew your migraine was going to act up, like you could feel it coming, the lack of sleep and the loud music with the strong stench of alcohol everywhere. It makes you want to escape somewhere safe.

Dokyeom saw your face looking uncomfortable. He put his hands on your ears covering it. He just raised his eyebrows as if asking if you're okay. You gave him a tired smile and nod softly. It was too loud to talk.

You were already fatigued. This migraine already drained the energy out of you. You felt guilty to leave even, because it was your best friend's birthday, you have to be here. There is no excuse, you tell yourself and go around looking for her to hand her her gift. Dokyeom following a few steps behind you holding your free hand.

You finally found her, wearing the dress you had picked out a few days ago, a shimmering blue with her hair and nails done with a birthday girl sash over her body. You find the rest of your girl group with their boyfriends too. Dokyeom spots Wonwoo, the brother and they end up chitchatting about something while you talk to your best friend about the boys she met tonight and also had her her gift.

Talking to her was distracting and it momentary helped you forget about the killer headache you were having. She loved the new studded wrist watch you bought her, since her's had recently stopped working. You thought it was the perfect gift. She puts it on right away.

"Let's go dance" she says excited and pulls you to the middle of the club where you could feel the bass of the music in your chest and head. It did not help the situation at all, but you hated the idea of ditching your friend on her birthday, so you just put up with it.

After a while, you're left alone because she's has gone with some random guy dancing so you find your way back to Dokyeom sitting in one of the booths. You couldn't even stand straight without feeling like you were losing balance. It was getting out of hand. You plop yourself next to your boyfriend and put your head on his shoulder closing your eyes, it only made you more dizzy. The whole room was spinning. You could feel Dokyeom’s hand caressing your cheek while he continues talking to Wonwoo.

Wonwoo soon excuses himself to go find his sister while Dokyeom turns to you.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks you pecking the side of your head.

You nod cuddling closer. He hands you a bottle of water to drink from incase you were just dehydrated and that intensifies the headache.

"I think we should get back, take a shower and lay down in a quiet dark room, get some sleep" he says to you and you nod at that. There was only so much holding out you could do.

Dokyeom found your best friend and told her you were leaving, she was dejected but she understood how bad your migraines could get.

The ride back was horrible with the motion sickness and the car.

When you got home, he helped you get out of your heels and you went in to take a shower.

"It's okay, I'm standing right outside," he reassures and soothes you anxious self.

Sometimes the anxiety around lightheadedness makes you shiver and shake, like you're going to faint and no one is going to be around to help you. These thoughts really skyrocketed your anxiety. You've had multiple instances of dizzy spells and passing out because of migranes, something you've been battling all your life.

Anything could trigger a migraine attack. It was the worst thing.

You just wanted to wash up quickly before you possibly pass out. Dokyeom knew this fear and kept singing in the room to just indicate he’s here without outright telling you. His voice really soothes you.

You wash up as quickly as possible and bolt out. The headache felt a little better now that you were calmer.

Dokyeom had your pjs ready for you and he went in to take a quick shower.

You change and jump into bed as soon as possible.

A few moments later dokyeom joins you smelling like flowers.

You immediately turn to cuddle his torso while he lays next to you with his head propped up on his elbow.

“I’m sorry we had to leave early because of me” you almost felt guilty because he couldn’t enjoy the party.

“No party will come close to this” his hands brush your hair softly. “Don’t be sorry, its not your fault, I like taking care of you”

“It was too loud”

“It really was, or maybe I’m just getting old” he laughs.

You could feel his laugh through his belly.

The lights were low, with only some moonlight coming into the room through the window. His fingers were fidgeting with yours in the dark. The fidgeting turns into a thumb wrestling match and suddenly he’s whispering thumb wrestling commentary.

“Player (y/n) almost had it, but there he is, Legendary Player Lee Dokyeom, coming back from the cages of defeat, and will he strike, will he attack”

It makes you giggle and he finally lets you win.

“Indeed, a winner of my heart, and a winner of thumb wrestling”

You chuckle at his cheesy line. He’d do anything to get a laugh out of you. He loves the sound of your giggles. Almost like he takes pride in making you laugh.

“Sing for me” you cuddled into him further.

“Anything for you, Player (y/n)” he says pecking your head.

He whispers a beautiful song, only for the two of you. The one thing that worked better than medicine for your headache was dokyeom’s voice.

His voice fought all the battles in your head for you.

“I love you”

The last thing you say before you drift into dreamland.

#lee dokyeom #lee seokmin #dk #seventeen #kpop #idol x reader #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom x y/n #kpop fanfic #lee dokyeom x reader #svt scenarios #svt #carats #idol!reader #svt fics #svt fluff

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

Text

Twisted Love

summary: as we know, im a bit of a gremlin. i take ur asks and fucking add my own spin. here we are. its like a “joel edges reader, reader accidentally comes” with SUPER dark twists. let me know what you think. feel free to (gently) yell at me because honestly @breakfastatjoels is the only reason i decided to post (love you dee)

pairing: dark! joel x reader

wordcount: 2.3k

warnings: survivalism, dubcon, dark!joel, edging, dom/sub dynamics, pussy slapping, very out of my comfort zone writing this, stockholm syndrome, this joel is everything husband joel is not. hes a dick please dont acc be in these kinds of relationships, swearing (no bc me being a smartass and adding swearing as if its worse than STOCKHOLM SYNDROME), choking, slapping, passing out and keep going, somno? i think?, dacryphilia, he’s a genuine fucking asshole

A/N: please be warned that this is not a vanilla smut fic, it follows some super dark themes. unlike my other fics, no “soft” joel, or aftercare; no checking in or wiping tears. also forewarning, i do not support relationships that are in fact like this. i am not glorifying sa or abuse. dont want any anons in my inbox tearing me a new one.

masterlist // navigation

Four hours. You’d been tied to the bed spreadeagle for four hours. Your wrists and ankles had chafed, you’d nearly lost your voice, and you couldn’t seem to stop trembling.

Joel had one hand on your stomach, pressing down, and another between your legs, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm only to pull away at the last second to watch you buck your hips into thin air, chasing friction, as your high ebbed away again. And then he would start again. And again. And again.

By now, you were gone. Your mind had long been wiped clean of coherent thought. Broken moans and whines escaped you as you tried to beg despite having seemingly forgotten the ability to articulate yourself - you could barely manage short gasps of breath in between sobs; words were proving to be near-impossible.

A dizzying chant of Joel, Joel, Joel, took up your mind as he wrenched his fingers out of you once again, just a second too late to accomplish what he wanted. No; in your desperate, hyper-sensitive state, that split second alone was enough to send you into a spiral: toes-curling, back-arching and your breath coming in sharp gasps as an orgasm that had your vision whiting out for a few seconds washes over you.

Joel glared down at you, the vision barely registering to you past the buzz of euphoria, eyes rolling back as reality faded away. He gripped your jaw then, snapping you out of the daze by bringing a hand down on your cunt, repeatedly striking the sensitive folds, the painful sting heightened by your orgasm.

At the pitiful groans of protest and the way your legs contorted against the bindings to fall into themselves; instinct taking over to protect you from his merciless assault, he rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Y’gonna be a brat? Be a fuckin’ brat. ‘M not wastin’ my time on a girl that can’t behave.”

Snapping his switchblade open, he leaned down to rip through your restraints before turning and walking out of the room without another word.

That had been a week ago. You had spent an hour curled in on yourself, numb in disbelief that he’d just left. You hadn’t meant to go against his wishes, your body had just taken over and practically pushed you over the edge. You knew the deal- of course you did, it was seared into your fucking mind- it’s what kept you alive.

It was an offer he had spat at you with a blade pressed to your neck, a decree that signed your body over to him. He’d let you live and keep you alive, and in return all you had to do was obey him; be his “good little girl”, as he put it. All you had to do in exchange for your safety was listen to him, do what he told you to.

A paralyzing fear had gripped you since that day you had accidentally defied him, death looming over your head like a guillotine you couldn’t quite see just yet but knew was inevitably coming.

You’d hated the arrangement at first, resisting it; resisting him. But once he had made it abundantly clear that there was no way for you to leave, nowhere you could go, you found yourself fighting back less. Life had already been so long, taken so much from you already. You’d never have to worry again. He’d keep you safe. Despite his inherent brutality, he took care of you; more care than anyone else had taken since the world went to shit. He made sure you ate enough, slept in better spots, showers. When you had nightmares, he’d set a bruising pace against you and rut until your head emptied of every thought but his.

Your disdain for him faded over time, and you began craving him. You wanted him under your skin, you wanted to feel him and nothing else, to be reduced to a mindless mess as damp sheets clung to your skin. Wanted his bites and bruises, wanted his grip on your thighs, your waist, your neck. Slowly, you wanted him. A twisted love characterised by dizzying need for him to rip you apart and put you back together infected your mind. To be with you, hold you, praise you. And you were perfect for him as a result, wanting nothing but to keep him happy.

He, however, hadn’t so much as looked at you all week. If he said anything, it was bit out in your general direction as an afterthought; an inconvenience. It was like he’d stopped caring where you were, how you were. Pent up and needing him, needing to feel the scrapes of his callouses against your skin, his teeth nipping your flesh, you simply endured it all fearfully. Your arrangement had gone on long enough that you genuinely did not know if he would follow through - but you’d seen enough of what he was capable of not to risk it. You may have your own infatuation with the man, but you weren’t stupid. When he stood jaw clenched, shoulders tense, and with that crazed glint in his eye, you did not speak to him; your self-preserving habit of pointing out his tells blaring at you to run. If you so much as stepped too close to him on days like these, you’d see how blown out his pupils were, how his face was set in an expression that made it difficult to identify him, before he’d pin you to the nearest wall and use his mouth, fingers, cock, blade handle, beer bottle and makeshift toys on you until you passed out, and then he’d keep going until exhaustion overtook him. Which, for a man that size, often took over a day.

So you settled for trying your best to impress him. Wore that dress he liked, did your hair in a ponytail because you knew it made his fingers itch to tug at it, painted your lips with a shadow of red and just followed him like a lost puppy, without stopping or complaining once. Didn’t matter how many gashes you got on your hands and knees from getting your foot caught on sharp edges or rocks he didn’t warn you of anymore, didn’t matter how hungry or thirsty you were with him neglecting to pass the canteen back to you, didn’t matter how badly his biting comments hurt you or how many tears filled your eyes, you followed him without complaint.

But it had been a week, and your resolve had started to break. If he was going to kill you, he had to do it now. The buildup, the constant fear, the desperation to impress him, the cuts and bruises now littering your body, the hungry ache in your stomach - they all reached a point where your knees just buckled, and you just couldn’t. Joel was ahead of you, still trudging on without so much as glancing in your direction, not even after the pathetic wail that sounded from you as you fell to your knees. Gasping out his name, wincing at the rasp of your voice from the disuse, you watched his steps falter as he looked at you over his shoulder, and kept walking.

“No, no, no, please Joel, please.” Tears began streaming down your face, your body shaking with the force of the devastation sweeping through you as you began crawling after him. This made him stop and turn, brow raised and mouth set in a cruel smile as he took in your form. He took slow, deliberate strides to where you lay on the ground, elbows given out, and looked down at you.

“Please, what?” His dark eyes were glittering as he smirked at you, watching you crumble before his very eyes.

“No more. ‘M sorry, I’m so sorry I won’t ever go against what you say again. Didn’t mean to come - it just happened n’ I couldn’t stop it. I’ve been so good for years, Joel. I’m s-sorry, please I’m so sorry.” Cheeks burning hot with humiliation, you could barely meet his gaze as you began begging the man you’d sworn to kill when you first met him. Begged him to take care of you, to forgive you.

He crouched low, reaching a hand out to tip your chin up and meet your eyes.

“Need me?” A jeering, boisterous laugh. “Do ya, now?” At your nod, he snorted. “You forget who’s in control -once, just once - I fuckin’ leave you then and there. Clear?” Another nod. “Take what I give you this time.” Not a question, but you find yourself nodding feverishly anyways, making his lips twitch as he grasped you and lifted you into his arms the rest of the way.

Joel spotted a cabin while trudging through the rough terrain, your hands around his neck and torso flush against his chest as you hung limp in his arms, half-asleep. Deciding to settle there for the night, he barely took a minute to scout the place out before he was making his way to the bedroom. He dropped you onto the bed before turning to strip his flannel and trousers off. Watching you blink in confusion as you started to wake up, he scoffed, tangling a hand in your hair, flipping you onto yoru back, and yanking your head to the edge of the bed.

Giving you no time to brace yourself, Joel shoved the blunt head of his cock between your lips, working your jaw open as he starting using your mouth. One of hands came to rest on your exposed neck, putting enough pressure to feel himself moving in and out of your throat, while the other gripped the edge of the bed next to your head, intermittently coming up to slap your tits, your stomach, your thighs - anywhere he could reach. The sounds of your garbled choking and gasping filled the room, Joel using your mouth like a fleshlight.

Refusing you a single second of reprieve to get your breath, he kept rocking his hips until you were lightheaded and there were spots in your vision, consciousness fading. When he glanced down and realised you were about to pass out, he pulled himself flush against your mouth and stayed there, drool and spit spluttering from your nose as you struggled to accommodate him, struggling against him until you blacked out.

When you came to, you were lying on your stomach, hair still in Joel’s grip and head held back. Your hands were tied to the headboard in front of you with the underwear you had been wearing all day, and his fingers were bruising your waist in his grip as he pounded into you from behind.

You could feel that you had lost some time. Come and blood streaked all over your jaw, neck and chest, and you could feel some drying on your back, thighs and stomach as well. Moreover, you were drenched. Covered from head to toe in a mixture of blood, sweat, saliva and cum. You could see skin on your chest and stomach swollen and red, broken by his teeth, which had left permanent indents into the flesh. Blinking steadily, you realised that the sun was up, the room bathed in the first few rays of dawn.

“Welcome back, sweetheart.” His rasp from behind you had a shudder dancing down your spine, straightening up slightly. You could barely sob your response - the new angle had your eyes rolling back, and you could feel yourself being jolted up the bed by the sheer force of his thrusts into you.

Feeling the muscles of your stomach tense, you hardly had the rationality to start babbling a half-understandable “Gonna cum, ‘m g-mmh-cum,” before feeling him shift his hand on your hip to move it between your legs, swiping over your clit with just enough pressure to bring you to your peak - before he leaned down to snarl into your ear.

“Don’t come.” At your whimper, he laughed. “Y’wanna live? Be good f’me? Don’t you dare fucking come.” You felt your muscles lock up, a pitiful whine leaving your mouth as you staved off your orgasm, tensing so hard against it that your whole body hurt. Your legs were shaking with the force of holding off, and you felt Joel smile into your shoulder in approval before he moved his arm under your thigh, lifting it as the strength of his hips snapping into yours increased, making you scream when his fingers returned to your folds.

He reveled in the wails that were piercing the silence of the room, at the force with which you began convulsing in the effort to obey him. Sucking a bruise into the skin behind your ear, he let you suffer for a few more plunges of his tip into your cervix until he felt his own climax fast approaching, uttering a permissive “Come,” until you were gripping him so hard his vision whited out for a few moments. Watching your hand come around to the back of his head, body trembling as you moaned low and near-pained next to him, he stayed inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and stepping into his jeans immediately, watching you collapse onto the bed from overexertion.

He just reached across the bed to twist a particularly large bruise between his index finger and thumb, savoring your squeak of fear and the tears streaming down your face.

“Best get cleaned up quick. We gotta lot’a ground to cover today.” And with that, he was walking out again. At least this time, you knew he’d keep you around.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore , @evyiione , @breakfastatjoels , @millerscoffee dividers by @cafekitsune!! cover by the AMAZING @pedrosaidsheispunk. what a LEGEND.

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sugar-omi · 4 months

Note

Just some brainrot because we love Cove. (Also, your fics are soooo good. Thanks for sharing it with us. I mean omega! and rockstar!cove :o )

So, we have Step 3 Cove in hand some time after Patreon's nsfw moment. MC is obssessed with giving him head, of course. He's so cute when you do...what can I say ? I'm a simple human. So yes they do it often, like casually saying : "Cove, I'm hungry." while you two are casually hanging out. At first he doesn't understand but the look in your eyes convey your message to him.

Most of the time, you'll be totally satisfied with just leaving him all red, dishevelled and flustered. Just having him putty in your hand makes your day. But at some point, when you ask Cove to come to your house (without kinky ideas in mind for once) he asks you if your just horny. While it makes sense, I like imagining that MC decides to not get him off anymore. Obviously until he begs, all red and pent up, for a release.

In the meantime, MC just spent their time teasing him. Light touches, flirty remarks and maybe getting him all worked up while making out only to purposefully stop. The poor guy, will clearly snap if show up at his door, anklet on.

This was a bit long and I'm sorry if there's any mistake as english isn't my first language.

I LOVE YOU ANON IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE ROCKSTAR!COVE TOO HEHE 🙈🙈🙈(omega!cove too, im having sm thoughts abt him lately...) also dw your english is perfect n i feel like you took an exert outta my head LMAO

tags : NSFW, hc's, gn reader, multiple choice dialogue, this just a really big ramble bc i've been a zombie thinking abt this shit n now we're here...., mmm overstim, oral (cove/reader receiving), reader's a TEASE, mind break honestly, ooc but idc 🏌️

he's confused when you first make subtle hints/advances, but i think realization hits him like a truck a millisecond later

for the longest you two wouldn't be able to keep your hands off each other

late at night sneaking into the others room so you can suck cove off, trying to keep all the slurping and gagging noises to a minimum

cove's moans are another struggle, but i say climb on top of him and let him eat you out / suck you off while you suck him off too

ohh his head would SPIN with that

he almost woke up your mom's last week because he moaned a little too loud when he finished

so now you're on top of him, your lovely ass and sex in his face

ahhh he'd be so fucking cute. teary eyed and whining into and drooling all over your cunt / cock, pulling you down onto his face so he can get more of you

also i loveee the thought of sucking him off in his car

realistically, i don't think step 3 cove could even handle the thought, he'd probably faint and hit his head n die LMAO

but arghh it'd be so hot

you went on a nice date, and now you're sitting in the parking lot of a beach far from home late at night, and tonight was so much fun.

shopping, movies, you even got some nice food from a hole in the wall restaurant

and now you're finally alone, no one around to see your boyfriend throw his head back, claw at the steering wheel and moan and babble and try not to thrust up into your mouth because he doesn't wanna hurt you

he's so whiny, and so loud

you've been sneaking around for awhile now, you can't blame him for wanting to be vocal because fuck your hot, wet mouth around his cock is so hot

and definitely doesn't help he's probably overstimulated, his cock so sensitive because you've been touching n sucking him off so much

let alone when he's rubbing one out in the shower before a date/event or in the middle of the night because he had a wet dream about you<333

mmm idk about yall, but i would break him <333

of course he doesn't interpret every touch or invite as sexual, but i also you've ruined him so you can't blame him, its your fault 🤭🤭

so now whenever you rub and squeeze his thigh, or give him a hot kiss, or say something like "cove, i wanna leave now... " or "come over, i miss you <3"

or send him a spicy text, "i had a dirty dream about you, can i come over, please?"

also omfg i would be so satisfied with just teasing him too…

i love it so much. it’s the best actually

mm i like having long nails, i’m always thinking about getting a new set/doing your nails all pretty and you’re showing them off to cove then you tell him “i wanna see how they look around your dick”

he’d love that omfg

imagine dragging your nails over his chest, teasing his sensitive nipples before you move down, pulling out his dick and giving languished strokes while you kiss him breathless, only moving onto leaving love bites all over his neck n chest once he’s a drooling, blushing mess <33

i think he’s gotten used to your late night/midday booty calls too

so when you invite him over, he can’t help but anticipate sex

but instead you’ve set up some snacks and a movie you’ve been waiting to come out set up on the TV and now cove looks like a fool with a half hard dick and with how fast he rushed over here

when you ask what’s wrong he’s mumbling, stuttering out how he thought you had ulterior motives for inviting him over…

so now it’s his fault because now he’s set up on your couch with him on your lap, teasing him about how he’s too horny to even imagine his s/o would want a normal date, no ulterior motives whatsoever

how he probably can’t even hold your hand without thinking about how you jerked him off in the bathroom of his workplace

and you’re so fucking right

because some days he can’t even kiss you without remembering his taste on your lips, can’t forget how your legs were trembling on either side of his head and now you’re having lunch with your families

how you’re sharing ice cream and jokes with your friends like you didn’t pull him aside before you left and got him off, begging him to cum, that you need to taste him to get by

omfg i also love the reverse/the consequence of breaking cove this way

because either way, he’s obsessed with you too

needs to taste you, have you… he’s just dying every day to have you under his hands, on his tongue..

and i can’t decide which i love more.. teasing cove bc he needs to have you, or teasing cove bc he gets so wound up from you needing him often

bc both is so delicious, and both of them scratch my brain so much

cove eagerly eating you out / sucking you off at the beach, he can’t even focus on teaching you surfing/surfing with you or building sandcastles, etc. because all he can think about is you n having his mouth on you…

you’ll show him a new outfit or sit in his lap or cuddle up next to him, etc. and now he’s thinking about ruining you in those clothes or sinking onto his knees giving you head while you lay back on the couch, still focused on your show

i love how in the ORCA dinner moment cove gets tense when you touch his thigh

i think he’d definitely be obsessed with you teasing him, working him up, dirty talking him especially

oh fuck i almost forgot. in the first patreon nsfw moment, he loves when you pull away before he finishes and you “don’t want it to end”

so technically this is canon <3333

so he’d definitely love is you pulled up to your date one day, anklet on and looking so lovely

n you’re touching his thigh, telling him how good he looks, kissing him suddenly and then pulling him into a deeper kiss when he gets it together

at some point you end up in his car, too busy swapping spit and slipping your hands where you can to get a feel of each other under those clothes, to even make it home

of course eventually you do, but even then your teasing doesn’t stop

ohhh sitting in his lap, rolling your hips into his, kissing him breathless until he’s babbling

you try to pull away, partially to tease cove but also because its late and his dad will be back any time now

but he convinces you to just get each other off, that you’ll have enough time so please?

and while you’re jerking cove off, you hear cliff’s car pull up and cove has not been quiet whatsoever, you couldn’t possibly risk it

but he’s so desperate, he’s so close to finishing, you can’t stop now!!

on the verge of tears prbly, all blushy and hot and a total mess

babbling about how he’ll be quiet so please make him cum, he’ll be good so please.

he’s such a doll, and he does keep his promise, even if it means shoving your undies in his mouth or muffling him some other way, like with your hands, lips, or sex

or you can let him bite/hide his face in the pillow, messing up his bed from all his squirming…

fuck this turned into such a big ramble tysm for sending this, im sorry i used this as a chance to unleash my apocalypse of horny brainworms LOL

#cove holden #olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut #cove holden x mc #cove holden x reader smut

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jasntodds · 5 months

Text

Broken Heart Of Gold [J.T.]

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Request: yes, here

Summary: After Jason messes up on a mission, he goes to you

Warnings: Swearing, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, self-deprecating thoughts (jason), mentions of previous homelessness, mentions of death

Words: 2,514

A/n: I was listening to You Are Enough by Citizen Soldier and Broken Heart Of Gold by One OK Rock so here we are lol I also have another fic similar to this here because I will write this concept a million times if no one stops me. If you wanna be tagged in my fics, you can click the link below, send me an ask/comment, or follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

masterlist | request info | tag list

He’s been doing this for years. He was just thirteen when he first put on the Robin suit. And it was magical.

Being Robin always made Jason feel like he was magic. He was invincible and strong and worthy and enough and important. He had a purpose. For so much of his life, he was the one taking care of his mom and then she died. She died and it left him cold and alone and on the streets. But Robin brought him importance and safety and warmth. Being Robin meant he lived in a home where he was cared for and never asked to care for them. Not that he ever minded caring for his mom because he never did. But it was nice not having to take care of himself, even if he always did anyway. Being Robin gave him freedom and he got to kick ass. He got to go out there and he got to help Batman bring down some of the worst of the worst. He was enough and important. And worthy. But he wasn’t invincible. Because the Joker killed him.

He died and that was that. Robin wasn’t magic or invincible. Robin was just some kid in a mask and cape. But, then a betrayal to death and fate happened and Jason’s alive again. He came back and became Red Hood because the Joker was alive and well, Bruce had a new Robin, and the world left Jason behind.

He came back and it’s as if he wasn’t even wanted. He became Red Hood for people like him. The ones left behind. The ones Bruce won’t help in the way he should. Jason became Red Hood, knowing this life only leads to pain and death, to do what Bruce is too cowardly to do. He became Red Hood to be the voice for all the victims like him. That could have been saved if the hard choices were just made but weren’t. He is their voice and their protector. So, he’s been doing this for years. And the missions that go south, still never get any easier.

There’s a loud thud coming from your window, snapping you from your shallow sleep on the couch. You sit up quickly, your head slightly spinning with the sudden movement and you look over to your window, seeing the reflective red helmet shining back at you in the low light of the city and your apartment.

Jason takes the helmet, a mild quiver to his fingertips. “Sorry.” Jason mutters. “Did I wake you?”

You shake your head, moving to your knees so you can get a better look at him. “No, I was just lying down.” You lie, knowing he hates waking you up and you hadn’t been asleep more than twenty minutes anyway.

“That’s good.” Jason clears his throat but he hasn’t made any attempt to get up off the floor or make direct eye contact with you.

It’s all feeling heavy. His head, his eyes, his limps. Everything around him feels like it’s starting to close in. The adrenaline is crashing and everything feels like it’s about to suck the last breath from his lungs. It all hurts and aches and he usually handles it well, the injuries just come with the territory. He’s used to the pain but then nights like tonight happen and everything hurts. Every passed injury is echoing in pain, coming back for vengeance. The autopsy scars burn even though they shouldn’t, his face feels numb even though those injuries have been long healed from the pit. Every haunted injury comes back with a shattering echo.

“Jay?” You ask softly, trying to get him to look at you.

Usually, when Jason comes back from patrol, he's injured in some capacity. But, most of the time, he has this grin anyway that could light up Gotham's darkest alleyways. It's always a little cheeky and always a little arrogant. And charming. Because he went out and he did something good, for people who can't help themselves. His eyes are usually bright, blue and bold with enough energy to power your apartment. Those are the times he usually comes to you but then sometimes, like tonight, it's like every ghost comes back and takes over. The light is gone from his eyes and it's as if he's physically incapable of managing even a fake reassuring smile. It's these nights that are always the most worrisome because you know Jason has a habit of beating himself up relentlessly when something bad happens.

For a second, he’s not sure why he showed up here. You always clean him up and stitch him up. You’ve been doing it since he was Robin. A routine because you always understood when he needed to talk or sit in silence. But tonight, he’s not even feeling like he’s worthy of the kindness that radiates from your unbroken bones. He doesn’t think he deserves the help you always offer and the understanding because he failed tonight. And it was his fault. It was so bad that his jaw clenches as his heart starts to thunder.

"Are you okay?" You keep your voice soft, just above a whisper as if speaking too loudly will shatter him entirely.

His breath hitches in his throat with the question. He nearly shatters into a billion pieces right into your carpet. Jason Todd, on a good day, is rarely ever really okay but tonight it’s so much worse. He’s trapped in a harsh reality of what he does every night and he’s trapped in his own head, haunted by every passed mistake he’s ever made. Is he doing the right thing? Is this the only way? Is Bruce right? Maybe he is fucked up and maybe he never should have been brought back. Maybe those people would be alive right now if it weren’t for him.

Jason swallows his own heartbeat, a task that feels more like swallowing river rocks. "Yeah, I'm fine." His words are short and brittle while a redness starts to wash over his eyes.

You nod slowly before you get up from your spot on the couch. Jason watches you carefully and he knows you’re about to offer him the care he swears up and down he does not deserve. You crouch in front of him, resting your hands on his knees. Jason nearly pulls away but he knows it would hurt you if he did and he doesn’t want to cause anyone else any more pain. Not tonight.

“You don’t look fine.” You say softly as you tilt your head to the right. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jason nods as his mouth runs dry. “A few places.”

“Okay so I’ll get the kit and you can move the couch.”

“You don’t have to fucking help, alright? I don’t know why I came here.” Jason huffs but it's weak and ragged, forced as if speaking is too much of a task.

“You always come to me for help, Jay.” Your voice is kind and gentle as your thumbs lightly run over his knees.

“I know but I’ve already stained your carpet and couch. It’s late and you have work. I’ll just go home. It’s fine.” Jason shakes his head, his eyes plastered where your hands meet his knees.

“I don’t mind.” You shrug as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “Taking care of you, I mean. It doesn’t bother me.” You offer him a soft smile once he glances up to you. “And Alfred told me how to get the stains out so…you really wanna use that as an excuse or you gonna let him help you?”

Jason lets out a sigh. “I don’t know.” There's a quiver in his voice.

You tap his head lightly with your finger, Jason's eyes finally locking on yours. "What's going on up there?"

You were on the streets together before he got lucky, well, depending how you want to look at it. You've known him for years and Jason has always been the one who wants better for people, Robin and Red Hood just gave him the opportunity to actually help those people. But, with that, he's also been the person who doesn't really know his worth or believes he's enough. A lot of things have happened, a lot of people have come and gone to nail those thoughts into the deepest parts of his mind. Those are always the thoughts that tend to be the ones that stick, even if they aren't true and you know they aren't.

You know Jason has a heart of gold and always has, always will. He thinks dying charged a part of that because sometimes, it feels like he should still be dead. So, he beats his heart out of his chest until he shatters into pieces, the shards always ricocheting back at him. He breaks his own heart because he thinks he deserves it, scattering the pieces in hopes the pain will always be true to what he deserves. But, you come around and pick up the pieces anyway because you always knew he was enough and worthy and important. You always knew that Jason would do what was best, for him and for other people who needed help.

"I got a damn cipher wrong and I was too late." Jason's voice finally cracks, his words harsh and aimed at himself.

His eyes always turn to almost a navy blue whenever he starts crying. It doesn't happen often, at least not around you, but you notice it. It's as if the emotional turmoil takes over every part of him stripping him of the liviness he usually has and that includes the brightness of his eyes. And it breaks your heart every time.

Jason has always had a thing about not being enough. He wasn't enough for either of his parents to stop using or enough for his dad to stick around, get a legal job. He wasn't enough for Bruce. A lot of people have tried over the years for him and tried with good intentions to just genuinely help because he deserved to be happy and healthy and safe but for some reason, it was never enough. Something else would happen and it'd mess it all up and the only one who ever got hurt in the mess was Jason. He's mentioned, a handful of times, maybe it was just him. Destined to like this forever. But you never saw it that way.

"I'm sorry, Jay." You brush the white streak of hair out of his eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask, your brows pulled together.

You never saw him as not enough or damaged. He's an asshole, sure, but he's also kind and forgiving. He just wants to help people. Even when you were kids, questioning where your next meal was coming from, he'd try to help other kids if he could. It's what he did. It's what he does. You found out he was Robin and all you could do was laugh because the whole vigilante thing really fit him. Maybe not the way Bruce wanted things done, but helping people who the GCPD can't or won't help. But, even beyond being a vigilante, he's your favorite person. And you wouldn't trade him for the entire world. You desperately wish he could see himself through your eyes. Maybe it would help on nights like tonight.

"No." Jason scoffs, shaking his head. "No, I don't wanna talk or think about it anymore."

"Okay." You shrug casually, knowing he'll talk in bits and pieces later. "So, why don't we get you cleaned up and stitched up then we lay down. We can watch something or I can read to you until you fall asleep. Your choice." You offer him a gentle and kind smile.

"I don't wanna keep you up later. You'll be late for work again." Jason huffs, guilty pulling at the pit of his stomach.

You shrug, giving him a cheeky grin. "Eh, yeah, I can take some PTO." Your face suddenly lights up. "What if I take PTO and we go to Petsmart tomorrow, pick up some food and we go see the kittens at the shelter? If we bring in food, we can hang out with them for a little while."

The excitement in your voice gets Jason to crack a small and fragile smile. You know how much he likes cats. It's a silly offer, maybe, but it is nice and Jason will never understand why you try to hard to make him feel better, even when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. But, he does know, he is thankful for you anyway,

"That's how you wanna spend your precious time off?" Jason's voice is rough this time but it doesn't crack.

"With you and like twenty kittens? Yes." You nod quickly. "And I think you need it, anyway." Your smile falls into something comforting and honest. It feels like home. "Hanging out with animals is good for your mental health."

"Really?" Jason raises a brow at you.

"Oh, are you gonna tell me you're not beating yourself up and thinking you're the worst? You're not. I think you're the best but I know you well enough to know you don't think so when something happens." You suck in a breath, your hands sliding over his knees a few times. "So, we go hang out with some kittens and you'll feel a little better to tell me what happened and then I'll tell you that you still did your best."

"How do you even know that?" Jason scoffs, dodging your eyes again as the guilt starts pulling on his vocal cords.

"Because you always try your best." You answer simply. "It's not always easy, Jay and it's not always gonna work out. But, you always try and that's enough." You place your hand on his cheek, getting him to look at you. "So, what'd ya say?" The corner of your mouth perks up into a gentle and hopeful smile.

The last thing he wants to do is disappoint you, let someone else down. But, he also knows, deep down, that you do it because you care and you really believe everything you tell him. All you want to do is be there for him and maybe it does take some of the weight off of his shoulders. When he's carrying the world, you stand under it with him. And when he's taking a hammer to his own heart, you yank the hammer away and swap it out with glue, helping him put it back together. And on nights like tonight, he's not sure where he'd up if it weren't for you.

Jason nods softly, taking your hand in his. "Yeah, alright, thanks." Jason leans closer, resting his forehead against yours.

"Of course, Jay." You press a quick kiss to his nose. "Now, come on, lemme help you." You get to your feet and offer your hands to help Jason up.

He shakes his head, his chest still feeling heavy but knowing you'll always be here makes things easier. So, he sticks out of his own hands and encompasses yours in his before he stands up.

Tag list: @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @dgraysonsss // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @vivian-555 // @kebonita // @deyja-the-duckk// @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @killxz

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #requests #request

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sophswritingthings · 5 months

Note

it’s me again :)

could you do a dancer reader with mizu? 😁

pairing: mizu x fem!dancer!reader

warning(s): none

a/n: I’m using this ask as an excuse to continue the fic I just posted >:) ALSO BABE I WAS WORKING ON THIS ASK WHEN YOU SENT ANOTHER ONE SO ITS QUEUED I PROMISE

summary: after joining mizu’s little crew, you start to sort of miss your job. dancing, even if it wasn’t always the best work environment, dance was something you enjoyed. It was your passion.

word count: 590 words / 3,187 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you held your fan in your hand; the only thing (besides money) you’d brought with you from your traveling life. your fan was the only thing your mother had ever given you; and even though maybe she wasn’t the best person, you couldn’t help but feel attachment to it.

with a flick of your wrist, you sprawl out the fan. you drag your foot around in a circle, hiding those mysterious brown eyes behind that of your yellow fan.

your eyes close for a moment, letting yourself feel the gentle beat of a song in your head, feeling the footsteps and the moves.

knock.

you look up to see mizu standing in the doorway.

she was holding a unlit candle in her hands, that must have been what the noise was. she had most likely knocked it over, catching it in her hands before it fell to the ground.

you had stopped dancing, tucking your fan away.

“don’t let me stop you,” she narrows her eyes, taking a few steps into the room. “continue.”

she says the word as if it is a command. your eyes widen a little, but you do comply. her words were… oddly comforting, in a way. knowing she wasn’t judging you, or making fun of you for doing so.

you fall back into the rhythm rather quickly.

than you feel a hand on your waist, another one grasping your hand. your eyes widen, looking up to see mizu having you in her hold.

her hands around you felt nice; one caressing your waist and the other clasping your hand tight.

“you—know dance?”

she nods a little.

“I was taught quite a while ago,” she pauses, stamping her foot down just beside yours. “I’m nowhere near as good as you; I can tell you that.”

you chuckle a little at her words, casting your gaze away from her.

“I’m not that good, either,” you murmur, letting your gaze slowly shift back to mizu. “It’s mostly something I do for fun..”

“fun?” she scoffs, “I saw your performance, the day we met. I watched every second I could; you have skill.”

you nod a little at her words, eyes still wide as the moon she was even this close to you. never before had she could anywhere close to touching you, let alone complimenting you in such a way.

“s-shall—“ you clear your throat, “shall we continue, then?”

she nods. she takes your one hand again, spinning you around effortlessly.

you smile, laughing to yourself. you feel like something of a princess dancing with her prince.

her eyes stay trained on that smile, her ears taking in that laugh.

“you have such a beautiful smile,” she whispers, the words flowing off her tongue so effortlessly, like she’d been waiting to say it.

“ah, thank you..” that blush reappeared on your cheeks, “you have beautiful eyes.” you’re brown eyes locked onto her blue ones, watching them widen.

your comment about her eyes stuck a chord with her. so long had she spent being so embarrassed and disappointed for being some half-breed monster; for having the blue eyes of a white man.

now here you were, telling her how beautiful they were.

“thank you,” she murmured back, stepping away from you. now she had a little blush tinting her cheeks.

“of course,” you bowed. “I.. suppose it is an appropriate time for bed, yes?”

“yes—yes, I’d say so,” she began to exit the room. “let’s do this again, sometime.”

you nod, gazing after her as she left. “let’s.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#mizu x reader #mizu x you #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #asked and answered #request #fic request

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sw33t-d1vine · 6 months

Text

YOU’RE SO CREEPY

SPRINGTRAP x GN!READER

ー cw : fluff , halloween !!!! , just u dressing up as springtrap :3

ー word count , 2671

ー a/n : hii !! october has been so busy.. BUT , in honour of the fnaf movie and halloween , i have this fic !!! im also changing my theme again…. this fic was inspired by my own halloween costume :3 i dressed up as him for halloween…. AND one of the costumes mentioned at the end is a costume my bff went as ! i hope u all like this silly fic :3 i’ll get back to reqs soon !!!

・Enjoy what you read ? come join my discord server to see sneak peaks and chat with me and other friends ! Link in my pinned post :)

ー Halloween was something most people adored, including yourself. This year, you had picked to go as Springtrap for your costume. You had made the ears, customized and DIY’ed the whole costume, and prop. Maybe no one would know who you were going as, but who cared. Maybe you just wanted to dress up as a killer zombie bunny.

Springtrap had yet to even see your costume, let alone even know what you are. You only told him it was a surprise, and he’d have to wait and see. Which he thought was stupid.

That was a few weeks ago. He waited days just to see what you were gonna dress up as, and when you came downstairs all dressed up in your costume, his dead heart almost stopped.

His eyes trailed over your body, looking at every detail on the costume. The fake bones sticking out, the fake wires all hanging out, and the big ears on your head that matched his. You had also done your own makeup, making it look like you had scares everywhere.

You really pulled this costume off, he loved it. Even if he didn’t like his own form, he loved how you dressed up as him. It was.. cute.

You held the fake knife prop you made in your hand, giving him a shy smile. “Thoughts?”

Springtrap let out a hum, “I love it.” He tilted his head, watching you do a spin to show off the rest of it. “Very detailed.. and you made all of it?”

Nodding your head, your smile grew. “I did. Since you don’t come to my room a lot, it was pretty easy to hide it from you.” You explained, fiddling with the fake knife.

“How long did it take?” He asked, cocking his head to the side, his ears slightly flopping.

You thought for a moment, thinking. It really didn’t take too long to make.. You thrifted most of the costume and just heavily styled it and added fake wires and such. “I’d say maybe.. 2 or 3 days. Not too long.” You chuckled.

“It’s still very well done..” Springtrap hummed, glancing at the front door. You had left a bowl of candy so you could give them out to trick or treaters. He wished he could do it with you, but he knows he’d probably scare any kids that came. Which would be funny to him, but you’d probably scold him later about it.

When the doorbell rang, you turned your head to the door as well. “Looks like we have our first trick or treater.” You hummed, walking over to the door.

Springtrap watched you hand out the candies to the kids, one who was dressed up as Coraline, and another was a ghost. How cute.

The night went on for a while, kids coming to the door and you handing candies out. A few kids questioned your costume, and you only said you were dressed up as a zombie rabbit. They wouldn’t exactly understand who you were dressed up as.. but he did. and he adored it.

He adored you.

#william afton #fnaf #springtrap #five nights at freddys #fnaf william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #springtrap x reader #five nights at freddy's

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Note

Can we get a fic like manipulative bestfriend Kirishima but it's Katsuki instead?

18+ mdni, fem!reader // cw: manipulation (guilt-tripping), sort of dubcon-ish...? bsf!bakugou

"stay."

a hint of a smile tugs at your lips at the seemingly innocent request katsuki slurs into the darkness as you get him into bed that friday night.

the bedroom you're in, his bedroom - and which you've come to know so well that you might as well consider it your own instead - is neat and tidy as ever. perfectly him.

every piece of furniture has its own rightful place. the decoration is scarce, but surprisingly tasteful; that is if you ignore the shelf full of all might figurines that's situated right above the desk. adorned with starlight and a hint of blue-ish purple light coming from the neon sign that's right across the street, shadows of all shapes and sizes cover the walls.

and they dance, the shadows and their odd shapes. twirling and spinning all across the flat surface whenever a car drives by the window that overlooks the street outside, they remind you of living things. and speaking of living things; the night itself can be considered as one of them. it makes the city feel alive.

people walk the streets no matter the hour in a city this big. they share inside jokes and they laugh and gossip and spill secrets they'll talk about further about in the morning, when they're feeling a bit more sober. but besides the occasional chatter and the low hum of turning car tires, it's quiet. peaceful - if you're used to tuning out all the traffic noise and other nonsense. you, living in the very center of the flashy city havoc for quite a while now, find it oddly comforting at almost one in the morning.

however, to you, the room you're currently standing in also beats the comfort the city brings any day. most definitely.

because as you inhale, savouring a nice, deep breath, you realize that it smells fresh and familiar; like home, or rather the person you think of as home. like the fabric softener that wafts from the newly-washed bed sheets you've just finished tucking him in, and the chilly breeze of late spring that's only snuck its way into the room because of the fact that katsuki 'blood running as hot as his temper' bakugou prefers to sleep with his windows open no matter the season.

and that's completely fine, it's just dandy - even if it does tend to get a little too cold for your taste, personally. the problem at hand is that besides the open windows, your best friend also prefers to sleep with you in the room with him. right by his side, where you belong. constantly.

most don't believe it if they've gotten the chance to meet him and know what he's like, but it's true. he actually likes you. and sure, it may seem like he simply tolerates your company instead of enjoying it more often than not, with his constant eye rolls and low-spoken grumbles for answers, but you know him better than that.

you know that just from the way he wishes to have you around, like now, willing to share his comforter and pillow with you whenever he's at his most vulnerable - a sight he never lets anyone see but you. it's the little things when it comes to katsuki, and you also know that the action alone is the same as if he were to tear the very moon off the sky every night for you before placing it into your awaiting hands.

he trusts you with it. he trusts you with his heart.

and it's been like that for a long while, ever since you were kids, actually. since you'd borderline forced him to be your friend by smiling those big, foolish grins at him even if one of your teeth was missing at the time. since you'd brought him neat little presents, most of them candy and gum, for his birthday every year, even if he wasn't particularly a fan of sugar and you only found out about it years later. since you weren't afraid to hold his hand even if it got much too warm, much too quick all of a sudden and could even make sparks fly, while yours had been simply covered in bright yellow sidewalk chalk instead.

and katsuki, well, he had pretended for a long while that he didn't appreciate the way you'd persisted and consistently kept putting in the effort into getting to know who he truly was. had feigned that he didn't care about all the smiles and the kind gestures and even sweeter gifts. never being a boy with a tendency to display affection all that much, he found it hard to demolish the walls he'd spent ages building around himself and to really portray what he truly felt.

but years passed, as they tend to do. by the time you had both grown up and parted ways, he realized how special it was what he had. how he took it for granted. and once for a change, he was the one reaching out to you this time, over social media he rarely used but still had because everyone else - you - did. he was the one attempting to grow closer. to rekindle the spark and all the warmth to accompany it. because he missed it.

he missed you.

so you met up whenever you could. you partied a bit on the weekends; whenever school would let you. you held study sessions for entirely different subjects because you attended entirely different schools. he helped you move into your new place, and you helped him move out of his parents' house. he taught you how to cook because you were, in his words, absolutely shit at it. you taught him how to not kill all of the plants in his new apartment when he'd gotten tired of his college dorm, because he was, in your words, an incompetent plant dad.

you laughed, sometimes you cried, but mostly laughed. shared experiences and adventures that you still like to reminisce about to this day. and your friendship grew with them. it got more solid; sturdy. different, in more ways than one. and it's even more different now.

now that he's no longer a boy, but a man.

"hey," said man's voice brings you back to reality now. you blink as you feel his fingertips touch the sleeve of your sweater. his touch is warm as it always is. "you still in there, dummy?"

reaching down to pat the top of his head playfully, you try to ignore the way he angles it further into your palm as you say, "funny! but i can't stay tonight, kat."

he truly is just that: a cat. one that nearly purrs at your touch whenever it gets drunk, that nuzzles its face into the crook of your neck and that turns oddly clingy, too. but only when he feels like it. not you.

"sure ya can," he answers almost immediately even if his tongue feels way too heavy and slow to sit inside his mouth properly. the answer is simple but it's also assured. definite. like it's up to him to choose what you'll do. how you'll live.

come to think of it, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. your best friend does know you best. it's right there in the title.

a sigh leaves your lips at the thought as you look at him with slightly narrowed eyes now. he's relaxed; pleasantly tipsy because he allows himself to lower his guard down around you and drink more than he normally does with others. his irises are hazy and dark red instead of crystal clear, pupils big and eyelids as heavy as your heart. the signature spikes of ash blonde have turned sort of droopy and ruffled.

maybe they've absorbed some of the alcohol as well. it's funny to think about.

"katsuki," you start, stifling a chuckle, "you know that i've got work tomorrow-"

"c'mon," he interrupts with a mere murmur, his grip a surprisingly tenacious one to wrap around your wrist as he grabs it with his much bigger hand. "stay with me tonight."

"i can't," you repeat softly when he tugs at your hand for a second time. his fingers are so hot now that it feels like they're making your skin burn the moment they touch it, and you wonder if that's what the perps he's constantly chasing after experience whenever he gets close enough to use his quirk on the poor suckers.

there's a beat of silence between you before he chides, "can't or won't?"

"stop that." that makes me feel bad.

"well, you'd stay if you wanted to... just sayin'. 'cause i know you don't start work that early." he pauses to yawn. "but it's whatever, you do you. i don't care." i hope you do feel bad.

you don't respond to that. you don't know what to say. you never do.

so seconds pass. one, two, three.

"ugh... i didn't mean it like that," he says at some point as he rubs his temple. "i just-"

"it's fine. don't worry about it," you let out through a tight-lipped smile. "it's no biggie, really."

"it's not fine. just... lemme drive you to work tomorrow as an apology? i promise that i will, if you stay," he insists when he sees you starting to drift away again. pushes, because he wants to have his way with you. "please? i need you."

please.

you know what he actually wants, the thing he's been taking for months now, and yet the word still makes you fold because it's sweet and kind. makes you sigh again as you give in and pull your sweater over your head so that you can change into one of his t-shirts instead. makes you climb into bed with him the moment your jeans pool at your ankles and the comforter covers your bare legs. makes you allow him to wrap his arms around you in the too-tight way he prefers, but that leaves you awake, with your breaths awfully shallow in return.

because what matters most is that he's happy. and nothing makes him happier than when you're safe; right there in his arms, even if they do have a tendency to squeeze you just a little bit too much for your liking. even if they are just a little bit too possessive because you feel good, and good things must always be within reach to a man like him. only him, no other boys allowed.

please. it's so rare for him to say a thing like that that it almost tastes foreign on his tongue. but he still says it. just for you, no other girls involved.

please, he says as he presses your spine against his chest and sneaks his way under your - his - dynamight t-shirt, lifting it until the hem is touching the collar and your tits are exposed. please, he whispers whilst kissing your neck as that same hand glides all over your front in a way a best friend's shouldn't before he slides it into your panties instead.

please, he mumbles as his cock glides between your soaked folds a minute later; savouring the skin on skin contact even if it's messy and sticky all over. please, he grunts even if his sensitive tip already catches right at your fluttering hole and pushes in, in, in. until your breath hitches in your throat and your back arches in a way that makes you stick your ass out for him, as if in invitation even if you've never said the words.

please, he moans as he turns you over until you're laying flat on your stomach and he's pounding away like it's the last thing he'll do; making your curves jiggle and the headboard of the bed slam against the wall that's still covered in shadows. please, he grits out through clenched teeth when he feels your soaked pussy squeeze around him and try to push him out.

you're so close that you feel like your heart is about to give out any second now. he's heavy and too hot, too rough, too drunk; you need him out, out, out. you're going to burst if he doesn't stop because of how full you are.

"please, katsuki," you whimper, tears staining the pillow, his pillow that smells just like him as your nails claw at it until the softness is right inside your palms. it's all his.

"please, pretty," he says in return, pushing right back in. he's always pushing with everything. "just a lil' more for me. i need a lil' bit more from you." and you're gonna give it to me.

and yet your back arches again. and again. and again. accepting every thrust deeper, even if you said you couldn't. accepting his hand in your own because you're not afraid of the sparks and the danger it brings along - never had been. accepting the rude ignorance from your best friend in the heat of the moment because he otherwise does care about you.

he cares about you so much. just not while he's balls deep inside of you. just not while that same hand presses against the back of your neck so that he can gain the leverage to fuck into you better.

and it's your fault, or at least that's what he silently tells you with his actions. you made him like this. you crawled into bed with him. you let him take and take and take. he just asked. he used to be just fine on his own, but now he can't live without his best friend anymore. you're the pushy one. you, you, you.

and you also come with benefits he can't possibly resist.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou #biscuit drabbles #cw dubious consent #cw dubcon

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sweetiecutie · 1 year

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Pairing: Lily Evans x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, infidelity (rip James lol)

A/n: the amount of Lily fics on this app is disastrously small, which is, I think, a crime against humankind. Also, it may look like Lils is mean here but it’s not what I intended, I promise😥

- Shhh, darling, gotta be quiet f’me, okay? Don’t want others to hear what a naughty little girl you are, do we? - Lily tutted, a charming smile curling her lush lips as she fucked her fingers in and out of your sopping pussy ferociously, making your eyes roll and toes curl in tingling pleasure.

You nodded your head weakly, pressing a hand to your mouth, trying so so hard to suppress all the little sounds trying to break past your lips - an impossible task considering the way Lily pinned your with her chubby fingered you so viciously. Wet slippery sounds filled the crammy space of the girls’ dormitories, making you blush even deeper; Lily’s free hand came up to fondle your bare breasts, playing with supple flesh and twisting your nipples almost painfully, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

Your eyes fixated on Lily’s full breasts peeking so teasingly out of the low-cut of her black t-shirt, jiggling so prettily with the way her arm moved rapidly while fucking your greedy pussy. You recognized the familiar tingle settling in a pit of your belly, stomach tensing in sweet anticipation of nearing orgasm.

- Lily, ‘m gonna cum, - you barely whined, head spinning from heat and overwhelming pleasure.

- Cum for me baby, come on, - Lily encouraged softly, curling her nimble fingers a slightest bit, hitting that one sweet spot inside of you, surely sending you right over the edge.

And with that a dam broke. Your body spasmed and trembled ferociously with mind-numbing pleasure penetrating deeply into every muscle, so you had to bite down on your own fingers to subside all the wanton moans treating to spill from your bitten lips. Your eyes shut tight and the only thing your could concentrate on was Lily’s gentle voice, guiding you right through your orgasmic delirium, and surely bringing you back to reality.

Heavy footsteps could be heard nearing the room you were currently occupying, and by the loud boisterous laughter you could tell that it was no other but infamous James Potter. Lily cursed under her breath, pulling your tank top, that was bunched under your armpits just enough to reveal your tits, back down, throwing Marlene’s heavy duvet over your lower half. She made a quick job picking up your long dismissed shorts and panties from the floor and shoving them underneath said duvet, hiding your clothes there.

Mere moments later a door bursted open, hitting the wall with a loud ‘bang’ followed by James’ quiet ‘ooops, sorry’. Gryffindor seeker looked around a messy room, his pretty curls bouncing every time his head moved, glasses sitting low on his nose.

- Lils, dear, here you are, - shouted James cheerfully, nearing red-haired girl in two wide steps and wrapping a bing arm around her mid-section. He places a chaste kiss on her temple before averting his attention from his girlfriend to you, slumping against numerous pillows piled on your bed, still panting heavily. - Y/n, love, you allright?

Curly-haired boy let go of his girlfriend, advancing you and feeling your forehead with the back of his hand, tutting at the unnatural warmth underneath his skin.

- I don’t think she is, she’s burning hot, - tutted Lily in feigned compassion. James nodded in agreement, retreating his hand from your face, a look of sincere worry etched on his handsome face.

- Y/n, it’s may, how did you manage to get a cold? - he chided softly, not really knowing how to help you. You only shrugged weakly, giving him a small smile.

- I think she just needs some rest. She’ll be as good as new after some sleep, won’t you, dear? - Lily inquired and you nodded fervently, agreeing with ginger-haired girl animatedly. - Jamie, can you leave us alone, so I can help this poor thing into shower? - she added, referring to a bespectacled boy who was standing completely lost and clueless in the middle of the room.

- You sure? Maybe I can help with something? I have these really cool cough drops mom sent me, I can go fetch ‘em, - James offered and you felt a little pang in your chest for being a reason why him and Lily couldn’t work out. Red-haired reassured him, that you didn’t have cough and she there was an effective antipyretic potion in her trunk, softly urging him to leave. James only nodded his head and hurried to withdraw from the room. - Get better soon, dear, - he said before shutting the heavy door behind himself, leaving you two alone again.

You met Lily’s green eyes - they were crinkling with amusement and something you couldn’t quite decipher - something sly and playful. She neared you in in a few quiet steps, sitting herself next to you on a soft bed, one hand came to rest on the side of your neck, thumb rubbing the angle of your jaw softly. You looked at her bashfully, eyes shining and cheeks deeply flushed from your recent orgasm paired a possibility of being almost caught by Lily’s boyfriend. Red-haired sight softly, moving her hand down your rapidly pulsing jugular and then heaving chest, fingertips ghosting over your hard fabric-clad nipples teasingly.

- Oh dear, you do look like you need some help. Maybe with my mouth this time, huh?

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some feedback- we live from that!<3

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serverusslaype · 8 months

Text

Shameless, pt. 4

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey again B) here is part 4 to Shameless, i hope you guys enjoy it, it gets a little soft at the end, and i mean a little. next chapter im hoping to explore reader and snape's relationship a little more, maybe some more tension im not sure... we shall see

thank you again for reading and supporting this fic with likes, reblogs, comments, everything! i really do appreciate it. :) love u guys

okaaaay LETS GOOO!

Another week and a half had passed and it was now a bitter and cold midweek morning. Since that interaction with Snape in the dungeons, you hadn't seen much of him since, nor really spoken to him. He'd rarely come to dinner in the Great Hall in the evenings, let alone breakfast or lunch. You were a little disappointed with this considering he'd given you permission to use his first name, it felt like he was allowing you into his space. Or at least, that's what your overactive mind was thinking. You thought about it deeper as time went on, and you'd reached the conclusion of it just being a professional thing. It bothered you a little, of course, considering how you felt about him.

You'd just finished teaching a class of fifth-years, preparing them for a mock test on Monday. The lesson was rather smooth-going, apart from having to tend to a student's finger after they were bitten by a fanged geranium. After the whole debacle on your first day back teaching at Hogwarts, you were rather glad that only a bitey flower had gone rogue in this morning's lesson.

Presently, you were currently strolling to the Great Hall, dressed in rather nice, muted yellow-gold robes. You were always proud to represent Hufflepuff colours, you took pride in being sorted in that house after all. The mood at Hogwarts was a little low and cautious, considering students were turning up Petrified at every other corner you turned. Luckily, you had not come across one yet, you didn't think you'd be able to stomach it.

The Dueling Club was due to begin today, with Lockhart hosting it. You'd also heard that a teacher had agreed to help Lockhart with the beginning demonstration. Intrigued, of course, you couldn't miss one of your colleagues shooting a spell towards the bane of your existence.

So here you were, standing to the side in the Great Hall, watching the hustle and bustle of students and teachers eagerly awaiting for the show to start - this is Lockhart we're talking about. A table had been set up in the middle of the Hall, a pretty blue and gold tapestry draped over the top of it, dotted with astrology art. Students surrounded the table, giggling and talking excitedly about what could happen. Or, what could possibly go wrong? you pondered, smiling to yourself.

Soon enough, the man in question had hopped up onto the table. "Gather round! Gather round!" Lockhart's screeching voice reached your ears as you watched him strut across the table, one arm gesturing theatrically at the students. "Can everybody see me?" He questioned, looking at the students with bright eyes. Unfortunately, yes, you thought. "Can you all… hear me? Excellent." Lockhart said, quickly spinning on his heel, the cape attached to his bodice twirling with him elegantly. "In the light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves; as I myself have done on countless occasions."

You fought against a laugh in the back of your throat, choosing to cough lightly instead. Yeah, remember that time you couldn't handle a classroom full of little pixies? You rolled your eyes and folded your arms against your chest.

"For full details, see my published works." Lockhart added rather arrogantly. Was this guy serious? Merlin, he loved himself far too much. The famous author then proceeded to whip his cape off, throwing it into a gaggle of fawning teen girls. The gasped with excitement, their hands flying up to grab a hold of the piece of clothing.

"Let me introduce… my assistant," Lockhart began, pointing at the opposing side of the table with an open hand, his other one resting valiantly on his opposite hip. You reached up onto your tiptoes in a poor attempt to see what teacher he'd roped into this. Professor Sinistra, perhaps? Or even- "Professor Snape!" He exclaimed.

Your jaw dropped. There was no way in hell you'd heard that right. Before you could second-guess yourself, said wizard began trailing up the stairs to the table with a gloomy look on his face, his arms folded uncomfortably tight against his chest. As he reached the top, he let them unfold, placing them at his side, wand in hand. You noticed he wasn't wearing his cape too.

As Severus walked down the table, you couldn't help your eyes as they glided over his figure, getting embarrassingly distracted by how good he looked in his tight, form-fitting black robes. You had to force yourself to look away as you felt yourself falling victim to his alluring appearance, a searing hot blush now creeping up your neck, heading towards your cheeks. Gods, he didn't even do anything but take his cape off and you were blushing like a teenage school girl.

"He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry," Lockhart went on, glancing at the children who were leaning over the edge to eagerly glance at Snape. Surely, there was no way he willingly agreed to this, but then again, maybe he only agreed to it to have the legal ability to cast a spell on him. "You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him. Never fear." Lockhart professed rather over-confidently, deafening arrogance dripping from his words. You knew Snape was a very good duellist after hearing rumours during your time at school in Hogwarts, so you were confident that he'd dominate Lockhart. At least, that's what you were hoping.

The two wizards walked towards each other, stopping just shy of a foot away. They drew their wands, whipping them up to their own respective faces, before whipping them back down in one quick motions, a sharp swish emitting from the way it sliced through the air. Severus and Lockhart spun around, turning to walk five paces in the opposite direction. Once they were in position, they turned around once again to face each other.

"One, two, three!" Lockhart exclaimed, prompting Severus to draw his wand up at the speed of light. Before Lockhart has a chance to cast anything, the Potions Master was two steps ahead.

"Expelliarmus!" Severus commanded, a bright white light shooting from the tip of his wand, hitting Lockhart square in the chest and sending him flying backwards. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle an amused laugh as you watched Lockhart fly through the air, a cry of pain escaping his lips as his back thudded against the table.

As you looked back to Severus, you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Though you had hardly spoken since, it was hard not to feel impressed. The rumours were true, then, you thought, your smile widening. The wizard in question suddenly caught your eye, and you felt your lungs spasm. You had to suck in a breath to compose yourself as your legs tingled.

You nodded at him, wiping the awestruck smile off your lips and pursing them awkwardly instead. To your surprise, Severus acknowledged you back with a nod too. He turned his attention back to Lockhart, who was currently scrambling to get back to his feet. Your cheeks burned at the unforeseen encounter and you felt yourself becoming a little giddy from it. Gods, you really were like a little school girl with a crush.

Fuck. You couldn't understand how you could go from screaming your lungs out at Severus to possibly having a civil relationship with him - how does that even work? Though, you swiftly reminded yourself how that could quickly change, you were well aware of who he was.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious, er, what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would have only been too easy." Lockhart scoffed, strutting back to stand in front of Severus, his gimmicky grin making another appearance on his irritating face. The Potions Master stood nonchalantly, clasping his hands together in front of him. You had to give it to him, he had that poker face down rather well - something you were a little envious of.

"Perhaps it would be prudent, to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, professor." Severus said rather harshly, his tone of voice judgmental. He was totally valid for feeling that way, and for once you found yourself questioning Dumbledore's reasoning as to why he had hired such a useless and clumsy wizard. Surely, someone as wise as him could see through this man's pathetic and hopeless act? Maybe he was just desperate for someone to fill the position. Lockhart looked scared for once, his once confident grin fading as Severus stared him down, a sarcastic smile gracing his face for a split second.

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape." The famous author exclaimed enthusiastically, spinning on his heel to walk the opposite way of him. "Well… let's have a volunteer pair. Erm.. Potter, Weasley, how about you?" Lockhart gestured towards the boys. Ron's face was a picture, he looked awestruck, almost shocked to see that he'd been picked. Harry's face, however, was more fitting.

"Actually, I was thinking Professor L/N could stop lurking in the shadows and come and showcase her impressive range of skills." Severus declared, his rather loud yet deep and intimidating voice echoing throughout the Great Hall. You almost choked on your tongue, did he really just say that? As you looked up at him, Severus tried to hide the amused smirk that was undoubtedly slipping onto his smug face; his hand outstretched to gesture to you. You wiggled your jaw at him, clearly unhappy with what he'd just done. You weren't great at defence, but you knew how to protect yourself with the bare minimum.

"I highly doubt a professor of Herbology would be able to handle me in a duel, I'm afraid, Professor Snape." Lockhart laughed wholeheartedly, the tiniest hint of worry in his tone. Oh, really, is that how it is, Lockhart? Your jaw ticked at his outrageously offensive comment. Now, you really did want to Expelliarmus his ass to Azkaban. Snape continued smirking. He could hardly contain himself. This was perfect. He knew how easy it was to irritate you - he'd definitely had his fair share.

"Certainly, Severus." You called out calmly, watching the gaggle of students in front of you turn around to stare at you. As your eyes met with Lockhart, a flash of fear wiped across his face. That only spurred you on more. Your heels clacked against the floor cutting through the silence in the hall as you walked towards the end of the table that Severus had climbed up. As you reached the stairs, you held up your robes, careful not to trip.

Suddenly, a large and pale hand appeared in your face. Your brows furrowed together in slight confusion, before softening as they saw who it belonged to. You bit your tongue as you tried impeccably hard not to blush in front of half of the school. Graciously, you took Severus's hand lightly, watching how it swamped your smaller one, allowing him to help you up the steps. He was six-foot-one, possibly six-foot-two, after all. Once you were standing on top of the table he released your hand, to your dismay of course, but you didn't show it. There was a bigger thing at stake currently - handing Lockhart's ass to him.

You saw the author clench his jaw harshly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You couldn't help but paint an innocent smile on your face. Behind you, Severus stepped backwards, allowing you to move past him and towards Lockhart. You nodded at him, keeping your narrowed eyes trained on the strawberry-blonde liability in front of you.

The two of you walked towards each other, stopping in the middle of the table once again. "Wands at the ready." Severus said, trying his best to hide how entertaining he was finding this. You and Lockhart drew your wands, flicking them up to your face again and whipping them down to your sides with a sharp whoosh. You met each other's glaring eyes.

"Hello, friend." You muttered to him quietly, an innocent yet threatening smile gracing your lips. Lockhart's face might have seemed confident and prepared, however his terrified eyes painted a different picture. He was rightfully worried, you still had a lot of unreleased resentment towards him.

"Professor L/N, you are the attacker and Lockhart, you are the defender, obviously." Severus stated.

You and Lockhart turned around and walked forwards five paces, before turning around again. "One, two, three!" Severus called, his eyes widening a tad, eager to see the outcome of his proposition.

"Everte Statum!" You exclaimed, beating Lockhart at his own game. A string of pale pink light shot from the tip of your wand, landing square in the middle of Lockhart's chest. Your eyes were glued onto him as he flew backwards once more, his body flipping through the air like a gymnast - though a lot less graceful. He landed with a muffled thud, a short cry slipping from his mouth. Behind you, Severus was slowly losing his composure, letting a small huff of air escape his lips as he watched you, amused at the scene. He was impressed with your ability, and in his mind he pondered curiously about whether you'd duelled before.

Gasps and laughs erupted from the students surrounding you, though a handful of them also looked worried for Lockhart's wellbeing.

"Not bad for a Herbology professor, methinks." You smiled proudly, clasping your hands together in front of you as you waited for your opponent to climb to his feet again. You half-turned to glance back at Severus, prompting an approving nod from him, the corner of his lips quirking, teasing a small smile. You hummed quietly to yourself as you looked away, returning your attention to Lockhart, your cheeks tinting pink from the eye contact with Snape.

"I believe you owe Professor L/N an apology, professor." Severus said from behind you, quite smugly. You poked your tongue into your cheek, glancing at the floor in front of you to pull yourself together. This whole ordeal was sending you into overdrive. You knew the only reason that Snape was supporting you was because you shared a mutual dislike for Lockhart, but it still felt good to have his approval, perhaps even his attention. You could feel your heart pick up in pace as you thought back to the closeness you and him had shared during those heated, intense bickers.

"I should not have underestimated you, Professor L/N." Lockhart reluctantly said, his hand gently rubbing his behind, clenching his jaw as he stared at you and Snape. You smiled bitterly at him, nodding once and making your way back towards the Potions Master. As you neared him, he leaned towards you, catching your eye. Your breath hitched slightly.

"Nicely done." Severus muttered to you, another tiny smug smirk tugging at his lips. You sucked in part of your bottom lip momentarily before allowing a composed smile to grace your features. "I'm impressed." He added, making your head spin. You swallowed thickly. Gods, you needed to get out of here now if you wanted to leave with at least a shred of your dignity.

"Thanks." You barely managed to keep your voice steady as he leaned away from you, holding his out his hand again for you to take. You took it, praying to Merlin above that your shaking knees didn't give way to you as you carefully stepped down the stairs.

Snape arched a brow at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in a glare, silently reprimanding you for saying such a thing. How could you forget? 'Do not thank me', his words rang in your head as you let go of his hand. As much as you wanted to stay, you weren't sure your heart could take much more of this.

Fuck, maybe that hateful relationship the two of you shared previously was the better option. There was no way you were surviving this year in such close proximity to Severus.

"Don't touch that please, Mr Finnigan." You sighed softly, catching a glimpse of Seamus attempting to reach towards the head of a potted Mandrake. "Not until I say so, and you will see why." You added warningly, watching him reel himself back, a look of slight fear on his face. You smiled gratefully at him. "So, as I was saying, today you will be learning how to handle Mandrakes, and what their uses are." A few curious mutterings came from the students as you stepped forwards, flicking your wand upwards to float some protective earmuffs to each student in the class. They looked at them confusedly, reaching out to grab a hold of a pair.

"Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?" You asked as you watched the students collect their respective earmuffs, eyes flicking over to a particularly eager Hermione Granger. "Yes, Miss Granger?" You smiled, linking your fingers together.

"Mandrake, or Mandrogora is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state. It's also quite dangerous, as the Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it." Hermione said confidently, widening your smile. She was definitely a bright student.

"Brilliant, ten points to Gryffindor." You nodded, glancing at all of the students. The Gryffindor students all grinned at the sound of your words, giving Hermione an excited nod of thanks. "Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won't kill you yet, but they could knock you out for several hours, hence the earmuffs I have supplied you all with." You said sternly, hoping each and every one of the students were listening. You weren't particularly fond of paying the infirmary a visit today. "For your own safety, you will need to wear these. So please, can you all put them on right away?" You asked politely, feeling a sense of relief as every student obeyed you. "Make sure the flaps are tight down, too." You added sternly, noticing some students had just sloppily placed them on. Said students readjusted their equipment.

"Lovely, now watch me closely." You said, turning your attention to the potted Mandrakes in front of you. "Now, you grasp it firmly," you instructed, fingers grabbing on tightly to the top of the plant, "you pull it sharply out of the pot, like so." Instantly, the high-pitched wailing of the young Mandrake filled the greenhouse, making some of the students squirm out of fright. You couldn't help but smile at them; you remembered the first time you'd experienced the shrill wail of a Mandrake seedling in this very greenhouse. "Okay? Now, you dunk it down into the other pot and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep him warm." You explained, doing as you said, shovelling handfuls of soil into the new pot with the crying Mandrake seedling inside of it.

Suddenly, the sound of a student groaning caught your attention. You looked up, spotting Neville Longbottom's eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fell backwards, fainting. You sighed. Well, nothing is perfect.

"Mr Longbottom has obviously been neglecting his ear muffs." You pursed your lips, casting a sympathetic gaze his way. It always seems to be Longbottom in trouble. Amused snickers and inquisitive 'oh's broke out for a quick moment before you shut them down with a sharp shush.

"He's just fainted, ma'am," Seamus Finnigan protested, glancing between the unconscious boy and yourself. You nodded at him, holding up a light hand to reassure him.

"He'll be okay, Mr Finnigan, just make sure you don't step on him." You said, inhaling softly, turning your attention back to the whole of the class. "Right, off you go, there's plenty of pots to go around," You gestured to the table in front of you, observing the students carefully. "Grasp the Mandrake, and pull it up sharply like I demonstrated." A chorus of crying and shrieking Mandrakes reached your ears as you observed the class repeat your demonstration and you grimaced slightly at the raucous plants. You forgot how loud these little things were in groups. "Careful, Mr Malfoy, don't-" You sighed again, watching helplessly as he stuck his finger into the mouth of one.

Merlin, give me strength, you pleaded, watching him glare at the Mandrake seedling as he ripped his bitten finger out of it's mouth.

"Professor," came a voice to your right, capturing your attention, "You were great at duelling earlier." A blonde girl with big, blue eyes said. Luna Lovegood.

"Ah, thank you, Miss Lovegood." You smiled at her gratefully. "I'm not usually one to duel, however," You paused for a moment, pondering on your words. These were students you were talking to, so you had to be cautious with what you said. "However, I should really be thanking Professor Snape." You finished with a coy smile.

"He totally likes you, professor, didn't you see the way he helped you up the steps?" Another student called out, inducing some giggles from the girls. You rolled your eyes at them, quite positive that they were just pulling your leg.

"Let's not be hasty, now," You laughed lightly, frowning at their words. "I can tell you now that Professor Snape and I just about tolerate each other. The only reason he helped me up those steps was out of pure chivalry, I can assure you." You felt your cheeks begin to burn as your mind reeled back to earlier this morning, thinking about the way your hand felt in his, and how he looked at you after you had duelled Lockhart.

You cleared your throat and your mind, focusing back on the task at hand. "If I'm honest, I don't believe Professor Snape is capable of producing such feelings for a woman." You added absentmindedly, your tone a little bitter. A chorus of gasps and ooh's reached your ears, reminding you that you were in the presence of students - students that like to talk. "I didn't say that… don't… don't tell him I said that…" You groaned, fingers flying up to grasp the bridge of your nose in stress.

Fuck. You really needed to stop talking without thinking. That was another thing Severus had said to you a couple weeks back at the beginning of the year, no? You were still the same silly girl that didn't think before she spoke? You hated how you were proving him right, especially since you'd denied and protested it.

There was a beat of silence as you stared at the Mandrake seedlings in front of you, your mind floating back to when he was so close to you, his intoxicating smell of smoke, books and sweet wine invading your nostrils. The way his hauntingly dark eyes stare so deep into yours, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly out of anger.

"You're blushing, professor!" An amused student called out, pointing at your burning cheeks as he pulled you out of your daydream. Merlin, these kids were distracting you. Definitely not helping.

"Alright, alright, that's enough chit-chat, ladies and gentlemen, back to work, please." You shook your head, trying to ignore the tightening knot in your stomach. A few bashful giggles erupted in front of you. "I want all of these Mandrakes repotted by the end of the lesson, please."

Soon enough, the bell tolled and your students had done very well, apart from Longbottom, of course. You'd sent an owl to the infirmary to notify Madam Pomfrey of Neville's state. You assured her that he would wake in a few hours. How was this boy continuously finding himself in such situations? Severus was right. Again.

A quiet groan left your lips as you collapsed into your chair behind your desk, eyes glued thoughtfully to a beautiful, singular white lily that you had potted and placed as a decoration on your desk. You were just about to relax into your chair and open up a book to read for an hour or so when you heard Professor McGonagall's worried voice over the intercom.

"All students are to return to their dormitories immediately. All teachers to the second floor corridor." She said hurriedly, causing a worrisome look to stir on your face. This was serious, Minerva had never requested something like this before in your time teaching and learning at Hogwarts.

What had happened now?

part 5

part 4, done and dusted bitches B)

i hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you so much to everyone that has supported this through likes, reblogs and comments!! i appreciate every single one of you. honestly. much love to you guys.

if you would like to be added to the taglist please don't hesitate in leaving a comment below! i'll be happy to :)

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

for the last two users i've tagged, i couldn't remember whether you said you wanted to be tagged or not, so i apologise in advance for the notification

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 9 months

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You're waiting for a train...(1)

A Leap of Faith

Robert Fischer x Cobbs Daughter!reader

a/n - this is going to be multiple parts as I thought that would be preferable to a 20k fic. So let me know what you think! Also should I make a taglist for this???? (it's my first time doing a multi-chapter so I don't really know :)

description - y/n, the daughter of the thief Dominic Cobb and the late Mal Cobb, joined her father on the run. Knowing her fathers innocence, she couldn't bear to be without him, so she gave up on her architecture degree and followed him into the world of dreams. They do jobs together and, even though Cobb worries about the amount of danger he's putting her in he'd rather her be with him in the dreams rather than on the outside with his name like a brand. In the latest job they are given, Cobb finds peace and Y/n finds her one true love.

*reader is 20*

warnings - angst, dream infiltrating, incepting an idea into someones mind (which comes with it's own ethical qualms), mentions of death, creepy men.

word count - 1.2k

a/n - watched Oppenheimer so yeah...Cillian Murphy.

Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

Some thought I was stupid. Following my father into a life of crime. Every day my life was threatened and every day I felt unsafe in my skin. But I couldn’t let my father go. I knew mom hadn’t been well since they woke from their dream.

Dad had told me they’d been stuck for 50 years and I suddenly realised how muddled my mom had become. So I knew there was no way he’d killed her that night. She’d wanted to wake up and she wanted him to come with her.

So I followed my dad because I’d rather be a criminal than be without him. Some thought my father was stupid for letting me follow. But truth was, he wanted me with him as well. We couldn’t see James and Philippa so we settled for the family we had left. Us two.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The clock’s hands on my watch reached 30. I hurriedly placed the headphones onto Nash’s head and began the music.

Arthur woke up first as the sedative wore off. He told me that Saito had figured it out and we needed to disappear. I helped him with the others. Seconds later Nash and dad woke up in succession.

“How did you mess up the carpet?”

“I didn’t know he was going to rub his face on it.” I rolled my eyes at his incompetency.

“You always have to expect them to do the unexpected!” I voiced my concerns.

“Oh yeah how about you go down there with us instead of judging from up here!”

“I’ve been in dreams longer than you’ve been alive my friend.” I smirked at him but felt him sidle up to my ear and whisper. “I’d have you on the carpet.” He was roughly shoved back by Arthur. In the years of him working with my dad, Arthur had practically become my protector and he looked out for me at every turn. He glared at Nash in warning and jerked his head towards where my dad was packing up. Arthur could handle him on his own but he relished in the fear that spread across his eyes.

I helped my dad pack up the case and took the hand he offered me as he led me down the bullet train.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I joined dad in his hotel room with Arthur and we prepared to leave. We only stayed in the same room in very dire circumstances as dad believed I was safer far from him. Or because he felt safer alone.

When I entered, I noticed the spinning top.

Mom.

Dad followed my eyes and then looked down ashamed. I knew what he was doing. He was hanging on the balance of dream and reality, convincing himself that mom was wrong.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We three came to the rooftop, ready to fly away from this mess. But the closer we got, we noticed Nash slumped, bloody and bruised. Suddenly Saito appeared from the other side.

“He sold you out, in exchange for my sparing of his life.” Of course, it would be him! I tried to appear angry but I felt nothing. Our lives would be over soon.

Saito offered my father a gun but he declined saying that he doesn’t handle things that way. As Nash was dragged out of the helicopter we were invited to take our seats. I followed nervously.

“What will you do with him?”

“Nothing, but I can’t speak for Cobal engineering.” Ice ran down my spine, understanding the fate we narrowly avoided. Dad grasped my shaking hands.

“What do you want from us?”

“Inception. Is it possible?” Dad tensed and tightened his grip on my hands.

“Of course not!” Arthur answered.

“If you can steal an idea from someone’s mind, why can’t you plant one instead.”

“Okay, here’s me planting an idea in your mind. I say, ‘don’t think about elephants’, what do you think about?”

“Elephants.”

“Right but it wasn’t your idea. Because you know I gave it to you.”

I jumped in to assist. “The subjects mind can always trace the genesis of the idea, true inspiration is impossible to fake.”

My dad softly whispered beside me, and I managed to make out his disagreement with mine and Arthur’s points.

“Can you do it?” Saito smirked.

“Are you offering me a choice? Cause I can find my own way to square things with Cobal.”

“Then you have a choice.”

“Then I choose to leave, sir.”

“You want to take that risk? You want her to take that risk?” His piercing eyes lifted to mine and I felt my dad’s palms sweat at the thought of me in danger. He knew Cobal engineering would not even spare his daughter.

We landed outside of a private jet and I jumped out first ready to leave. I was enchanted by the scale of the jet but my happiness was short lived when I remembered who I was and what was going to happen, once again. Arthur and Dad joined my stride but we were halted by Saito’s voice. A final plea.

“How would you like to go home.” No. How dare he taunt us like that. There was nothing I wanted more than to go home with my dad and he chooses to dangle that freedom in front of us like a donkey with a carrot!

“Can’t fix that! No one can!”

“Just like Inception.” I don’t know if it was the sincerity in his voice but I chose to shuck off Arthur’s hand on my arm and walk back towards the helicopter.

“You’re serious. Aren’t you? Well how complex is the idea.”

"y/n what are you doing?"

“Simple enough.”

I scoffed. “No idea is simple enough if you have to plant it in someone’s mind.”

“My main competitor is an old man in poor health. His son will soon inherit his father’s business. I need him to decide to break up his father’s empire.” A business deal. Did I expect anything less. At least we could remove emotions from it. Simple and transactional.

My father joined the discussion. “If I did this-If I even could do this.” He grabbed my hand. “We’d need a guarantee. How do I know you can deliver?”

“You don’t! But I can. So, do you want to take a leap of faith?”

I shivered hearing my mother’s words pour out of this man’s mouth.

“Or become an old man, filled with regret?”

Dad lowered his head into a gentle nod.

“Assemble your team Mr Cobb, and choose your people more wisely.” The helicopter doors closed and up it went. In a daze I followed them onto the jet and sat down, silent.

“Look, I know how much you two want to go home--”

“No. Arthur, you don’t.” The first words I’d said in over an hour. I punctuated them by standing up and locking myself in the bathroom. Dad’s fingers brushed mine as I left in a brazen attempt to stop me.

As I sat there I thought back on my life, specifically the before. Pictures and films of our happy family danced through my head and I cried. I cried for the first time since we’d left that day. Since I’d hugged my baby siblings goodbye and promised them I’d be back soon. I cried thinking there might be a way. This was our chance.

I splashed water on my face and made my way back out with a fresh smile. I rested my arm on my dad’s shoulder.

“we’re doing this.” I announced. “I know, sweetie.”

I relaxed back into my seat, assured in our choice but nervous of the outcome. “So, where to now.”

“Paris. We need another architect.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage

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mikeysw1fey · 9 months

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one with the floor

request linked here:)

pairing: amber freeman x female reader

warnings: vomit, drinking

a/n: i think i’m going to start increasing the length of my fics cause they are quite short. so yay :) also enjoy.

“Please tell me Ambers not gonna be there.” I whine, head falling against the dashboard of the car as Sam drives Tara and I to Chad and Mindys birthday party.

“She’s our friend. Of course she’s gonna be there.” Tara laughs leaning through the front seats to pat my shoulder.

“Fuck.” I mumble.

Amber has been our my best friend since I was nine. And since I was 14 I knew that those platonic feelings that you have for a friend had doubled into feelings I didn’t even know I could feel for women. Now I’m 17 and desperately in love with my best friend.

Sam stops the car outside a house playing music so loud we could hear it through the vehicle walls. “Don’t get too drunk. And stick together or I swear I’ll murder both of you.” Sam points fingers at both of us, murderous glares sent our way as she speaks.

I roll my eyes at my sisters dramatics. “Yes mum.” I mock before squealing and escaping from the car as Sam reaches out to slap my shoulder. Tara waits for me on the kerb having already rolled her own eyes at our sister.

“Bye.” The two of us wave at the overprotective brunette before heading inside in search of the birthday duo.

“Mindy.” I scream. The girl in question spins at the sound of my voice, feet barely touching the floor as she leaps into my arms, legs wrapped around my waist.

“Girl, I’m 18. Eight- fucking- teen.” She squeals squeezing my cheeks. “I know.” I reply, slightly muffled as my cheeks are pressed together.

“Mindy leave her alone.”

“Amber.” Mindy rolls her eyes and lets me go, standing back on her own two feet as Amber walks over to me, arms crossed and a smirk placed on her face.

“You really know how to dress up don’t you.” Amber grins, her eyebrows raising as she scans my outfit which consists of a simple white corset and black skirt paired with almost knee high black boots and a leather jacket (don’t kill me it was the first thing that came up on pinterest) .

I thank Chad and Mindy for having LED lights in that moment, the purple hiding my flushed cheeks. “I won’t lie it took me a minute to figure it out.” I shrug and let my eyes travel down Ambers body, a pair of jeans and a tank top accentuating her curves perfectly. “Your beautiful.” I whisper breathily. Ambers eyebrows narrow. “I can’t hear you over the music. What?” She almost yells and my throat closes up at the realisation I had said that out loud.

“Oh nothing, I need a drink. I’ll be back.” I basically sprint away from the other girl leaving her with Mindy as I head to the bar.

…….

“Not gonna wish the birthday man a happy birthday?” A voice to my left says as I down my third shot of the night. Turning I smile sluggishly at Chad who opens his arms. “Chad.” I drag out his name slightly and hug him. “Happy birthday dude.” I sigh pulling back. “Have you seen your sister around?” He asks rather anxiously, his eyes darting around the room. “She’s not with a guy if that’s what your asking.” I raise my eyebrows suggestively and Chad chuckles. “Yeah, yeah it was. Anyway, made any progress on the Amber front?” He winks my way causing me to groan dramatically. “Chad Meeks Martin. Do not involve yourself in my love life. It is meaningless and unimportant.” I flail my arms around and groan again. Chad sucks in air through his teeth and nods slowly. “On that note I will leave you to wallow and look for your sister . Enjoy. And don’t drink too much I beg. Sams already on my case enough with the Tara situation.”

……..

“I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me, the start of nothin” I hum to myself, still sat at the bar in an attempt to push down all my feelings for a certain raven haired woman.

The urge to pee comes on strong. Stumbling to a standing position I purse my lips trying to remember my way around the twins house. “Toilet, toilet, toilet.” I repeat dragging a hand along the wall for balance as I all but crawl up the stairs.

Seeing the bathroom door I lift my hands off the wall and fist pump the air, a bad idea in hindsight as my foot doesn’t obey my brain, my body falling face first to the floor. “Fuck.” I mumble against the carpet simply remaining still with no energy to stand back up.

“I’m one with the floor.” I mutter finding comfort in my new mantra.

“Your one with the floor?” A familiar voice laughs, their body standing over mine. Glancing up I smile widely at my favourite raven haired girl.

“Amber.” I drag out her name as her eyebrows furrow at the sight of my face. “Holy fuck, did you fall over? Your bleeding.” She gushes bending down to take my face in her hands. “Maybe I did maybe I did not. What’s it to you woman?” I poke her in the cheek and attempt to sit up, regret coursing through me as my mouth fills with regurgitated alcohol.

Pushing myself away from Amber I throw up all over the floor next to me. “Your shit faced.” Amber sighs standing up and slapping herself in the forehead. “Sams gonna kill me. Fuck even Tara’s gonna kill me.” She mutters to herself.

I tilt my head at the woman and squint. “Amber. I think I’m ready to go home now.” I gag again but manage to keep it down as Amber crouches beside me and helps me up, her hands holding my waist firmly causing my breath to hitch which doesn’t unnoticed by the taller girl.

“I’m taking you back to mine, your not heading back to your sister like that. And I have to take care of your bleeding.” Amber chuckles slightly as she carefully helps me down the stairs.

“Look, it’s Tara. My sister. Tara hey. Tara.” I yell at Tara as Ambers hand tries to cover my mouth praying Tara didn’t hear a word.

“Amber please tell me that’s not my sister and that’s some creepy identical lookalike that is completely drunk out of their mind. And bleeding?? What the fuck?” Ambers prayers didn’t work as Tara stalks over to the two of us. “Sadly not. But it’s ok I’m gonna take her back to mine and fix her up. I’ll look after her I promise.” Amber reassures the shorter girl who bites her lip uncertainly. “God I’m too sober for this. Just make sure she’s ok.” Tara eventually sighs waving at me as I cheese at her and wiggle my fingers.

Amber nods gently pulling me towards the front door and walking me to her car. She pushes me into the passenger seat being sure to clip my belt in before brushing a strand of my hair out my face. “You do not know how much trouble you get me into do you?” She shakes her head, half her mouth pulled up in a smile as she walks to the other side of the car and begins to pull out the driveway.

“Your so pretty.” I sigh reaching for her hair as she begins the journey to her house. Amber gently grips my wrist and places it back in my lap. “Thank you. I find you extremely pretty too.” She smiles and glances at me quickly before returning her eyes to the road.

“So perfect.” I murmur reaching my hand back to touch her cheek. Amber chuckles and reaches for my hand again, this time intertwining our fingers and placing them in her lap. “Since you can’t stop fidgeting.” She smiles as my eyes widen, mouth agape and eyes flickering between our hands and her face. “Ok.” I manage to squeak.

Finally we pull into Ambers driveway, her hand dropping mine much to my dismay as she opens my car door and helps me out.

As we make it to her bedroom I yawn wanting nothing more than her bed. “Come on, I’ve got to get you cleaned up.” Amber whispers, her soft voice causing shivers to run down my spine.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.” I slur swaying back and forth as she sits me on the edge of her bed.

Amber disappears into the bathroom quickly before returning with a wet cloth and tissues. “Do you mind if I-“ She trails off, her eyes meeting mine as her hand comes up to cup my cheek. “I definitely do not mind.” I whisper and Amber cringes. “You also need to clean your teeth.” She laughs whilst dabbing my forehead to clean the blood.

It doesn’t take long to wipe up the dried blood, the wound on my forehead not major but I won’t deny missing Ambers soft fingers on my chin as she pulls away. “I’m gonna get you some clothes while you clean your teeth ok? Can you do that by yourself?” Amber whispers still crouched in between my legs at the end of the bed. I nod slowly and stand up at the same time as Amber, our faces inches away from one another.

My eyes disobey my brain, flickering down to her lips and watching her tongue run over them. I gaze back into her eyes trying to find any sense of discomfort or disgust but instead lust and want circle inside them.

“I should get your clothes.” Amber clears her throat and turns away, heading towards her wardrobe. Millions of thoughts rush through my mind as she rustles through her multitudes of clothing but I ignore them, instead heading into the bathroom and picking up the spare toothbrush that Amber keeps for me.

……..

Wearing Ambers hoodie and a pair of her shorts I clamber clumsily into her bed and collapse onto the pillows with a sigh.

Amber chuckles from beside me. “I hope you have a hangover tomorrow.” She teases reaching out to play with a strand of my hair. I shuffle underneath the blankets and lay on my side facing the other girl.

“I hope you fall off the bed in your sleep.” I retort with a yawn causing Amber to chuckle. My eyelids begin to grow heavy as exhaustion takes over, Ambers hands still gently twirling strands of my hair around her fingers.

In my exhausted haze I manage to reach up and place my hand over her own, her fingers halting in their movements as I tug on her hand.

“Closer.” I murmur and Amber obeys manoeuvring herself so our legs are basically intertwined.

I hum appreciatively not opening my eyes as my drunken confidence allows me to rest my head on her chest, Ambers heart beating much faster than a normal humans should be.

“Night. Don’t wake me up in the morning.” I breathe finally letting the exhaustion take over.

“I’ll do my best.” Amber replies placing a chaste kiss to my head.

“Goodnight.”

#wlw post #jenna ortega #lesbian #mikey madison #scream #amber freeman #fluff #tara carpenter #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #amber freeman x female reader #amber freeman x reader

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 2 months

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The Guest. - one

Jack Dawkins x reader. Completed 25 parts fic masterlist

Request: Hey! I have an amazing idea! How about a Jack Dawkins x doctor!reader story, and yes I would like her to be a sick person (same sickness as Belle) and she was finding a cure for herself, but she is from the future, like in the 2000s, if you want it to be 2023 or 2024, and she somehow cam to the 1850s and she and Jack gradually fell in love and a bit of jealous Jack because Sneed also fell in love with her, not Belle but she doesn't like him. And She is close friends with Belle, who is also trying to help in finding the cure for her and the reader and Belle got a job in the hospital together, she got taken in by Belle's father since she didn't have a home in the 1850s. You can write in the beginning that the reader only watched like 5 episodes of the Artful dodger and didn't know the cure yet. Thank you! (This is a long description 😂)

Sitting alone in your small studio apartment you flick off your TV after almost fully binge watching a new show. Your work friend had recommended it after finding out you were a Dickens fan. At first you weren't sure, could they really do it justice yet here you were five episodes in and hooked. Unfortunately you had to go to work. You had a night shift at the local hospital. Night shifts for you often felt easier, not the work exactly; there were always new patients coming in and out of the emergency room. As a doctor you were no stranger to blood and gore and all the strange things people did to each other. You pull your hair up into a messy bun at the top of your head and glance over to your clock.

"Oh shit!" You say grabbing your purse and running out the door. If you didn't go now you'd be late, and honestly you couldn't afford another late on your record. Your boss was already looking for a reason to fire you. Jumping in your car you speed out of the parking garage below the building. The roads were fairly clear for a Friday night, eerily empty. Sure you lived out in the middle of nowhere Australia but this was almost extreme. The tarmac below your wheels was wet, yesterday another unusual thing for mid summer. You mostly ignore the strangeness as you drive, taking your eyes off the road to flick your radio on. When you look back a fog starts to roll in, low to the ground at first, growing steadily until you can hardly see in front of you.

There is a rush of thundering steps charging and you see a great herd of horses speed past you.

"What the-?" You start to say when all your thoughts are stopped. Something large and black had hit the side of your car sending you spinning off the road. The car comes to a stop. Your hands are clenched around the steering wheel. You grab at your chest feeling the tightness there.

"No, not now." It had been a long time since you had felt any pain in your chest. In fact you had been a child when you had your first operation. There had always been a possibility of it coming back as you got older but at only twenty six you didn't think it would be yet. Needing to get air into your lungs you unclip your seat belt and fall out of the car.

The fog was thick and it caught in your throat.

"What is that?" You say out loads to yourself. Coming closer you hear something hard rolling quickly toward you. A large black shadow looming out of the fog. Unable to see properly you don't have enough time to move when the shadow hits you hard, sending you flying to the ground.

A hand is patting your face and you finally look up. It's bright daylight and a woman is knelt beside you, her big, fluffy pink dress is what you notice first.

"My gosh, are you okay?" She asks frantically, "Father we must get her to the hospital." You recognise something about that voice.

"Yes my dear, let's get her in the carriage." An older man with large, white sideburns agrees. Between the two of them they lift you up to your feet and into the carriage.

"What happened?" You ask, fighting the dizziness.

"We hit you with our carriage I'm afraid." The man said, "we may have broken your arm, my dear."

Finally acknowledging your pain you look down at your arm and the strange way it bends.

"hmm yes it looks like it could be a hairline fracture of the Radius bone." You say looking at the shape and swelling of your arm.

"Oh Father, she talks just like Belle." The woman laughed. That name caught your attention and you look back to the fluffy woman.

"Lady Fanny?" You ask.

"Oh you know me?" She says excitedly.

"That makes you Governor Fox?" You say turning the older man. He nods with a smile.

"And who might you be?" Fanny asks.

"Oh um I'm y/n." You say. "I don't understand, how am I here?" You ask them.

"well we put you in here." She answers you a laugh.

"No, no I mean, how am I...this makes no sense at all." You look out of the window and see a bustling town all around you. "Port Victory? Stop the carriage!" You shout to the driver. He pulls at the horse's reins slowing them to stop. You climb out and find yourself surrounded by men in frock coats and women in large dresses. The heat beats down on you and you're sure you had to be dreaming.

"Come on now miss, let's get you back into the carriage!" governor Fox called over to you. You shake your head, still turning around yourself to take it all in. At the exact moment you were turning back toward the carriage a hard body hits into yours, sending both you tumbling to the floor once more. You call out in pain and grab at your arm.

"I'm so sorry, miss, let me help you up." The cheeky English voice says. Your momentarily blinded by the sun above you only able to feel the strong arms pulling you off the ground.

"Your arm looks bad let me, take you inside." You know that voice.

Focusing your eyes you look up into the deep brown ones in front of you.

"Jack Dawkins." You whisper.

He grins down at you.

"So you've heard of me? Come along then, I'll get you all fixed up." He says guiding you towards the hospital, "shall I ask the nurses for some clothes for you, miss?"

"What?"

"Well, you uhhh you appear to be in your...well you aren't in a dress." Jack stumbles.over his words. You look down at your denim jeans and small white t-shirt.

"Oh, right." Eyes shifting around you see the way people are looking at you and feel utterly exposed. Jack led you into a small private room where he helped you sit on the bed.

"Okay let's have a look." He takes your hurt arm and pulls it towards him gently, "Yes, it's definitely broken. It doesn't seem so bad though." He says.

"A hairline fracture I'd say. We should get a scan on it just to be sure." You say.

"A what?" His eyes narrow in on you.

"Oh, I'm, nothing it needs a, um a splint, right?" You ask trying to recall how medicine worked in the 1800s. Jack studied you with curious eyes.

"Doctor, do you need anything?" Hetty pops her head through the door.

"Ahh yes, please could you get miss...uhh" he looks back at you,

"y/l/n" you announce.

"Yes Miss y/l/n some clothing, please." The nurse nods her head and disappears out of the room. Jack turns back to you and checks your arm once more.

"Yes a splint, very good. How did you...no it's alright I'll be right back." He follows Hetty out the door leaving you alone. Looking around the room you try to make sense of what was happening. This had to be a dream, right. You didn't fall through some magic fog and end up in the middle of TV show. Either way you figured it would be best if you didn't tell anyone where you were really from. The future seemed a bit crazy and could wind you in a jail cell rather than being helped.

When Jack came back into the room he was carrying a small pile of clothes and medical equipment.

"um, the nurses are all busy, would it be okay if I helped you to um, get dressed?" He asked sheepishly.

"Sure, I won't be able to do it myself." You admit. He straps up your arm, a thin wooden plank on top and bottom with a white linen bandage wrapped around your arm. Jack cut the sleeve the grey dress and helped you to step into it. He pulls it up so you can slide your arms into it, material is surprisingly soft but worn. Jack is careful with your broken arm and begins to button the front.

"Thank you for this." You say in a quiet voice.

"Of course. How did you get hurt?" He asks.

"Oh a carriage, um, Governor Fox's carriage." You say, still not fully sure what happened yourself.

"And he just left you?" Annoyance flashed across his face.

"No, god no. He was bringing me here but I was too curious, I guess." You laugh.

Just as you were speaking you hear Edmund Fox talking in the corridor with the nurses.

"She is just in here with the Doctor, sir." Hetty knocks and opens the door, "The Governor is here for the lady."

"Ahh there you are, well how are we doing?" Fox asks.

"A simple break, Governor. Miss Y/l/n will be fine with a few weeks rest, the bone will repair itself." Jack explained. Fanny came darting in to your side.

"Oh, thank the lord you're okay." She said grabbing you as if you were old friends, "where are you staying?" She asks.

"umm,"

"I insist you stay with us for the duration of your recovery." Fox said very matter-of-factly. You shake your head.

"I couldn't do that-" you begin to protest.

"It is a good place to recover, miss." Jack cuts you off, "I will visit you there on my rounds, to check on your healing." He smiled.

You think for a moment, realising you were changing the course of events already. Though ultimately you agree and follow the Fox's out of the hospital and back into the carriage.

Jack watched as you walked away.

"Strange one, she is." Hetty remarked standing beside him.

"She's remarkable, knew exactly what was wrong with her arm, but you aren't wrong there is something odd about her." He mused.

"Red was looking for you, said there is a card game tonight on the ship." Hetty told him.

At Government house you stood in the parlour with Fanny and Belle, Smales sat at the table.

"We'll take you to the seamstress tomorrow. She has a few dresses we can have fitted to you immediately." Fanny chatted away.

"I appreciate it, Fanny, but I don't have any money to pay for dresses." You say.

"Oh, none of that. Miss y/l/n. We did you a grave service today. It would be our pleasure to ensure your stay here be as pleasant as possible. Think nothing of any cost." Edmund spoke up from his chair, their dog sat on his lap. You thank him then turn to Belle.

"Lady Belle, have you been to the hospital at all?" You ask trying to keep yourself as neutral as you could.

"No I have not, though I would like to." She sighed.

"Oh we will have to get you a dress for the ball tomorrow night." Fanny clapped happily.

"your ball is tomorrow?" You ask, realisation dawning on you. "I'm sorry I need to go somewhere." You jump up and run for the door.

As always let me know what you think of this one.

Comment, like, reblog etc

PT 2

@fandomfan-102

#jack dawkins x y/n #jack dawkins x reader #jack dawkins #the artful dodger x reader #the artful dodger #norbert fagin #lady belle fox #reader insert #thomas brodie sangster

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