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malleleothreesome · 6 months

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Stage Sex - Fellow Honest x Fem Reader (Part One)

🌟 summary: Fellow convinces you to become his latest star, taking your virginity shibari style in front of a live audience. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: afab fem reader. Porn with plot – if the plot is him convincing you to partake in the porn. I didn't write this with the intent of it being dubcon (in my mind, reader is a willing participant, and I never describe her as otherwise), but please err on the side of caution if you're sensitive to that. It's starring Fellow Honest, after all – he comes prepackaged with manipulation skills. He does use a bit of his UM after reader already consents, and I refer to his magic as hypnosis, playing into the fact that you're obedient to him and he can use you as he pleases. There is a MAJOR VOYEURISM theme to this. He calls you names like "good girl", "slut" and "whore". In part 1 he helps bring you to clitoral orgasm for the first time while he jerks himself off. Also a few lines of cunnilingus and some fingering. Shibari bondage starts in part 2, additional warnings will be listed there. Please let me know in the comments if I missed a warning or tag idk I haven't written something of this caliber before. ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 7.2k words because I'm DERANGED ༶༶༶ 🌟 song: Carousel - Melanie Martinez "And it's all fun and games... 'til somebody falls in love"

Fellow Honest’s tail swung back and forth. He had certainly done his research, and all of that hard work would finally pay off. He watched as you entered the theme park, skulking in the shadows behind the rest of the students. You struck him as an outcast—no friends, no family. A beautiful girl from another world, with a figure that would make even the Gods themselves lust after. The only magicless human girl at the all boy’s magic college. Nothing to lose. How perfect.

“Hello, Miss…?” Fellow’s eyebrow raises as he tilts his head, leaning towards you on his cane. His calculated, fox-like eyes drink in every inch of you. Extending his right arm out to you, he welcomes your hand into his.

“Y/N,” you answer, a bit startled at his overt friendliness. Yet, you allow his white satin glove to grasp firmly around your hand.

“What a lovely name for such a breathtaking woman.” He bows forward to kiss your hand, maintaining fierce eye contact. In one swift motion, he turns toward his amusement park, wipes his mouth clean of your touch, and proudly waves his arm in the air to show off his property.

“Miss Y/N! Welcome to Playfulland!” he boasts. He turns back toward you, weaseling his way deeper into your personal space. “It is an incredibly rare occasion to welcome someone as beautiful as you into my humble little park.”

You dismiss his praise with a flick of your palm and a shake of your head, desperately hoping not to blush. “Oh, no need to be so modest, dear. A shape like yours could make any man fall in love. I doubt the students at the college are the only ones that appreciate it.” A sly smile is plastered on his face while his eyes continue to look you up and down with intention. Your mind runs wild as you try not to absolutely melt into his praise. “Are you sure you’re not a talking doll? It’s a marvel that a woman so flawless could exist.”

You smile softly and look to the ground, cheeks burning. You tuck a strand of hair awkwardly behind your ear, stalling for composure. How are you supposed to respond to a handsome, magnetic stranger saying all the right things? Not a single soul has spoken so highly of you since you found yourself trapped in this world, forced to attend Night Raven College. Your growing ego leaves you no choice but to soak it all in.

“Tell me, Miss Y/N. Have you ever thought about becoming a performer?” He doesn’t pause to let you answer. “Why waste your valuable early 20’s by studying and attending lectures and surrounding yourself with pathetic boys? Women as blessed as you are don’t need a degree. Surely a wealthy man can care for you far beyond a measly degree. And while you wait for him, why not fill your days with fame, riches, and adoration from performing on my stage?”

You stand in a stunned silence. This guy isn’t holding anything back, is he? Charm and charisma ooze from each syllable, making your heart race. It feels a little wrong, basking in the praise of a stranger like this. But you feel beyond lonely and underappreciated at NRC. You long to feel wanted and cared about. Why not give this attractive, complimentary man a chance?

Before you know it, the fox beastman's arms are wrapped around your torso, pulling you closer to him. "Oh, how rude I am!" he exclaims. "I haven't even given you my name."

"Allow me to properly introduce myself." With a quick spin of his heels, he steps back and bows, taking your hand once again. "The name's Fellow Honest, owner of Playfulland." He lifts his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "But please, you're welcome to call me whatever you'd like." He winks.

You could have sworn you felt a physical spark. Suddenly lightheaded, you pull your hand from his grasp, heart pounding in your chest. You can't take your eyes off him. You can't tell if your nervous system is trying to tell you to run towards or away from him. The longer you stare into his fire-orange eyes, the weaker your knees feel. He’s so close you can feel the heat emanating off of his body—is his perfume made of magic?

Something inside of you urges you to step away and re-evaluate. "Uh... I should probably get back to my friends," you stammer, trying to get your legs to move. "I'm sure they're wondering where I went. Thank you for the, uh, offer, though. I’ll think about it."

Fellow's arm is suddenly around your waist yet again, his fingers pressed firmly against your lower back as he pulls you close. Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches as you make contact with his chest. You feel his lips brush against your ear, and he whispers, "I have to insist, my dear. My employees are quite skilled, but you'd be the best thing that has graced my stage in years. It would be an honor to have someone of your caliber work for me."

His proximity. His hot breath on your ear. His possessive touch digging into the soft skin of your back. You feel a familiar flutter deep in between your thighs—you like this. You want to protest, to push him away, but the electricity between you is hypnotizing. His aroma—sweet wine and fresh roses—only adds to the spell, drowning out all logic and giving way to your body’s desperate pleas to take the lead.

"I have an office inside the theater where we can discuss this further, if you'd like," he purrs, and you can feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin. "And please, take all the time you need. You're welcome to stay the night. We have luxurious rooms available—a small taste of the lifestyle you’d have if you make the right choice. I'll have someone escort you back to campus if you change your mind."

Your eyes dart around, desperately looking for a familiar face—a way out. Where the Hell did Ace go?! What about Leona or Trey–surely your upperclassmen should have stuck around to make sure the only magically defenseless student isn’t being taken advantage of by any sexy, suspicious strangers. Not to mention the fact that you’re the only girl at school. Chivalry must be extinct in Twisted Wonderland. You feel your heart drop: maybe they never cared about you at all.

Fellow's tail flicks in excitement as he watches your expression. Your eyes are wide and panicked, and he can sense your desperation. He smothers his own smile as your body language slowly indicates defeat. How utterly effortless! He has you right where he wants you. You're his to play with, and no one is there to stop him.

"Come now, dear, it won't hurt to indulge a little," Fellow coos sweetly. Your brain short circuits, blocking all thoughts unrelated to the electrifying feeling of his slender fingers dancing along your waistline. "You're already here! Why not stay and have some fun?" His lips find their way to your neck and you let out a soft gasp as a pulsing warmth radiates from your cunt.

"Fine," you finally whisper.

Fellow chuckles victoriously against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. "I knew you’d be such a good girl." He spins you around, the sexual tension forcibly dissipating as he rips you from your lascivious thoughts and begins walking you down the cobblestone path. His hand rests on the small of your back, and his cane taps merrily against the concrete as you go. Your mind is still reeling from the shocking exchange, and you can barely match his pace as he escorts you to the grand theater.

You stifle a blush as you hear park goers whisper amongst themselves, eyes glued on you, mouths falling open. "Who is that? Is she a celebrity?”

“She looks like a supermodel,” a woman chimes in, her tone covetous.

Fellow would never waste an opportunity for free advertisement. He turns his head toward the group as you both keep walking. “Stick around ‘til after dark and you might just see this beauty show it all off on my grand stage!” He shouts, waving his cane in the air.

The two of you enter the theater and Fellow wastes no time leading you up the stairs toward a private hallway. His hand never leaves your waist. You pass several doors before reaching a pair of large, heavy wooden doors, which Fellow opens with ease.

You can't help but gawk at the size of his office. A massive, ornate wooden desk sits in the middle of the room, flanked by shelves lined with books and trinkets. There's a fireplace and two plush leather couches, as well as a small bar in the corner of the room.

"Please, make yourself at home," Fellow says as he closes the door behind him. He makes his way over to the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine with two glasses. You perch on one of the leather couches and he joins you, placing the wine and glasses on the table in front of you. As you inspect his office, you can't help but feel drawn to a mannequin adorned with a gorgeous bejeweled brassiere and matching pants—if there’s enough coverage to even call them that. Your faces heat up, and you quickly turn away.

"Beautiful, isn't it? One of my favorites," Fellow says, following your gaze. "Unfortunately, no one has had the pleasure of modeling it just yet." He furrows his brows in disappointment. He pops the cork on the wine bottle and begins to pour. "Maybe tonight will be the night. How lucky for me that I have the perfect model."

Something is starting to feel very exciting about all of this. You’ve never had an opportunity to wear such a costume. After being enrolled in Night Raven College only because Crowley didn't know what else to do with you, being here is starting to feel quite freeing. And the way Fellow looks at you… you’ve never felt more attractive. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, gifting you the courage and desire to be exactly who he believes you to be.

"Would you like to try it on?"

The question catches you off guard. He's now looking smugly at you. Your cheeks flush red, but you hold eye contact.

"Wh-what?"

"The outfit, Darling," Fellow says, nodding his head toward the mannequin. "You can try it on if you'd like." You take a long sip of red wine, savoring the smooth fruitiness. It immediately goes to your head, and you can't help but down the rest of it.

"Come now, Love," Fellow says, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "We both know what you want."

You stare at the outfit and then back at him. Your whole body feels like it's on fire. This is a bad idea, right? Or is it?

"Okay," you say, almost surprising yourself.

Fellow claps his hands together in delight. "Wonderful! Don't worry, I'm a gentleman—I'll look away while you get changed."

You make your way over to the mannequin, wobbling a bit from the alcohol. The bra is a dark purple while the jewels are varying shades of blue, making the whole outfit glitter like the night sky. The "pants" are a matching, dark purple lace thong, with ribbon and jewel embellishments. There is a sparkling, sheer miniskirt attached, more of an accentuation than actual coverage. You reach out to touch the fabric, marveling at how silky it feels. It's so sexy. Imagining yourself wearing it on stage in front of thousands of people, with everyone staring at you, craving you, makes you a bit wet with excitement. Maybe you do want this.

You look at Fellow one more time to ensure he’s not peeping.

Reader, take note that Fellow is, in fact, peeping—through his pocket mirror that he is blocking with his body. He’s far too good at this.

Feeling secure, you unbutton your uniform blazer, letting it slide off your shoulders and onto the floor. You undo the buttons of your shirt next, slowly exposing your bare chest.

Fellow bites his lip as he stares into the mirror, watching in awe as you undress. Your body is even more incredible than he could have imagined.

You slip off your shorts and underwear next, leaving you completely naked except for your bra. Your hands fumble a bit as you unhook the costume, letting it fall to the floor.

Fellow feels his pants tighten.

You can feel yourself getting more aroused, the excitement of being naked in a room with a stranger—soon to show off a revealing costume—starts to go to your head. You grab the brassiere off the mannequin, throwing your arms through the loops, eager to see if you look as good in it as you hope you will.

Fellow takes his sweet time watching in the pocket mirror. He grins, pleased with your inexperience, watching carefully so that he can see every inch of your struggle, savoring in it. “Oh, how easy this is,” he thinks.

After finally finding the right combination of hooks and clasps, you manage to get the brassiere fastened. You gasp softly, feeling the cool jewels press against your nipples through sheer fabric. You can't help but feel like it was made specially for you. The way it pulls your boobs together to create perfect, plump cleavage gives you actual pride. You shimmy the panties on next, loving the way the lacy fabric rubs against your clit as you pull the thong taut against your hips—a tingling reminder that your body is desperate for any sort of friction that may be interpreted as pleasure. You give your ass a little shake as you put on the skirt, reveling in how good the material feels as it brushes against your bare skin. Engrossed in your own experience, you’re completely unaware that you're giving Fellow quite the show.

He can't help but lick his lips, reaching down to massage his groin through his slacks.

You spin around and strike a pose for your imaginary crowd, feeling powerful.

"Are you ready, my love?" Fellow asks, startling you out of your daydream.

He pockets his mirror and adjusts the front of his pants, trying to disguise his erection as best he can.

"I'm ready."

"Show me what you've got," he says. You both turn around to face each other and he gasps, his eyes widening and mouth falling open.

"My goodness, darling," he whispers. "You're exquisite."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like the sexiest woman alive. You take a step forward, heart pounding in your chest. Fellow stands up, taking his cane in his hand. He walks over to you and stalks circles around you, gazing up and down as though inspecting merchandise. You yelp as his cold, hard cane smacks your ass.

Finally he stops directly in front of you, meeting your gaze once again. "Oh, Darling, you're an absolute vision." He cups your cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb across your lips. He wears a sinister smile, and you feel your mouth run dry as you finally realize how sharp his fangs are. You're almost certain he can tell how turned on you are right now.

He pulls away to replenish your wine glass.

"I can't wait to see you dance, my dear. You're going to be a star." He gazes dramatically into the distance, waving his hand like he’s envisioning your name written in dazzling lights. He hands you the full glass and you gulp it down greedily, eager for the liquid courage. You don't even care that this man is a total stranger—it actually makes it hotter.

"Oh, one more thing," Fellow says. He stands up and walks over to the mannequin, opening a drawer next to it and grabbing a matching set of lacy thigh highs. He kneels down in front of you, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he slips the stockings onto your feet. He repeats the process on your other leg, taking his time to run his hands up and down your thighs.

You bite your lip and look away, feeling embarrassed by how wet you are. He's so close to where you want him to touch you, and you're not sure how much longer you can stand this before giving in and doing something you might later regret.

Fellow stands up, his hands gliding up your legs as he does. He gently grabs your chin and tilts your head up so you're forced to look at him.

"What a naughty little minx," he whispers. "You're practically dripping." He smirks, once again bearing his fangs in the process.

Your eyes widen, cheeks flushing pink.

Fellow laughs. "Oh, there's no use hiding it, love. I can smell it." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your arousal. "It’s heavenly."

God dammit. You can't help but throw your head back in frustration from being outed so easily. Never underestimate a beastman's sense of smell.

He lets go of your chin and steps away from you. You let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding.

"Don't worry, darling," he says, making his way back to the bar. "I'll make sure you're properly taken care of." He refills his glass and downs it. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to wait until he's inside you.

You try to get back on track to a more... professional topic. "So, is this the type of outfit I would wear if I were to perform?" You try to sound as innocent as possible.

Fellow laughs a slow, deranged, almost maniacal laugh that makes your skin crawl. "Oh, no, darling. Outfits like these are reserved for the backup dancers. With the plans I have for you, you'll be wearing far less." He sets his wine glass on his desk and opens one of the drawers, pulling out a roll of thin, dark brown rope. Your heart pounds in your chest as he walks toward you, unraveling the rope as he goes.

You stumble backwards instinctively and even in your drunken haze, you start trying to take note of your surroundings and look for the exit. "Is this a joke?" you ask, trying to sound as calm as possible. "You know you don't need to tie me up if you want me to stay, right?" You try your best to reason with him and hope to God you didn’t put yourself in harm’s way.

"Oh, I'm not tying you up to get you to stay, Miss Y/N." He puts on his most pleasant and agreeable facial expression, lips contorting into an innocent cat-like smile, eyes crinkled as he feigns benevolence. "It smells to me like you'd do that all on your own. Am I correct?" He tilts his head toward you and gazes into your soul with piercing, knowing eyes.

He makes a show of walking over to the door and opening it, waving his hand through the open air of the doorframe. "Make no mistake, I'm certainly not forcing you to stay here. You are welcome to leave right now. I'll even let you keep the outfit, if you’d like." He gives you a knowing smirk and continues to hold the door open.

You gulp, feeling the familiar heat between your thighs grow stronger. Your mind is racing, trying to think of every possible rationalization to feel safe staying—anything to get your pussy the relief it deserves. If he really was a predator—you try to reason with yourself—you'd probably be dead by now. And he was right, you do feel like you could get off, just from being tied up. Your body seems to be the decision-maker here, and it’s telling you to stay.

You shake your head at his offer. "No, I'm good."

"Wonderful," he purrs, his expression darkening. He slams the door shut and turns the lock, letting the thud of the door ricochet through your body. "Now then! The reason I am tying you up is for your performance. Just a few short hours until showtime!" He steps forward, closing the gap between you. He runs his fingertips down your bare arm, stopping to wrap them around your wrist. You shiver at his touch, your body instinctively leaning toward him, yearning for more. Your face flushes red with embarrassment and arousal. You don't understand how he's able to turn you on so easily.

"You see, my dear," Fellow begins, his voice soft and seductive, "I'm not the only one who's been watching you hungrily." You feel his hot breath on your neck as he brings his lips close to your ear. "Believe me, Doll, they're going to love what they see." He takes your hand in his and places it on the bulge in his pants. His cock throbs beneath his clothes and your eyes widen at how big he is.

"I'm not just a magician, but a master of hypnosis as well," he elucidates.

He's never before been so forthcoming in his whole career, but there's just something about you that makes him want to be upfront.

Truthfully, he hasn't had to use any hypnosis magic at all to persuade you. No, you wanted this on your own. Despite your innocence and reluctance—you wanted him. His cold heart skips a beat at the thought. He releases your hand and once again cups your cheek. He pushes a thumb past your lips and forces you to suck on it. A deep moan escapes his lips as the sensation of your soft tongue against his thumb runs straight to his aching loins. Removing his thumb from your mouth, he slides it down your chin, tracing your jawline before moving to your neck. You arch your back and press your body against his, feeling the tip of his thumb press along your jugular, sending chills down your spine.

"And I can assure you that by the time I'm done with you, you'll be the perfect little hypnotized whore." You shudder as his tongue traces the side of your neck—it feels so good. He continues to drag his tongue up to your ear, and you moan loudly as he suckles your earlobe. Your knees are giving out, so you wrap your arms around him for support. "That's the beauty of my magic, love. No prior experience necessary. I'll ensure you put on the show of a lifetime. Simply allow yourself to enjoy the ride." You whimper softly, unable to form coherent thoughts or speak intelligibly, too caught up in the way he's pleasuring you.

"But don't worry, Love," he says, his voice low and raspy. "You'll still remember everything when we're done."

Your head is dizzy, trying desperately to process his every word. You can't stop yourself from moaning as his hands continue to explore. As far as the current circumstances go, nothing matters, as long as he’s making you feel this damn good. He takes his time groping and squeezing wherever—and whatever—he can get his greedy hands on, relishing in the opportunity to touch your perfect frame.

Looking into your eyes, he's suddenly overcome with emotion—unusual for him. This isn't something he's ever done with his employees, but there is a twinge in his chest willing him to do it. Perhaps—just this once—he can deviate from the script. Fellow hungrily crashes his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. You melt against him, opening your mouth to grant him entry. You feel yourself losing control as he dominates your mouth, exploring every inch with his tongue. You grip onto his hair, pulling him closer. His fangs lightly graze your bottom lip and it makes you shiver. The way he kisses you is so possessive and needy, and it's driving you wild. You've never been kissed like this before. His hands travel down your body and grip your ass tightly, causing you to yelp. Your hands claw at his blue coat and green vest, desperately trying to remove his clothes so you can feel his bare skin. He growls into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

"Eager little thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips.

You nod in response, gasping when he suddenly pulls away. Seeing how needy you are, he smirks, delighted at how much you want him.

"Oh, Darling. Why don't you save that for the audience?" he teases. "You're going to put on a good show for them, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'll do my best. I promise I'll make you proud," you gasp, feeling even more aroused by his words.

"That's a good girl." Fellow paces the room, circling you like a vulture. You can feel his eyes on you and can't help but squirm under his gaze. He grabs the rope from earlier, stopping right in front of you. His cane appears in his grasp, seemingly out of thin air. "Such a perfect little slut, so eager to please. I bet you'd do anything I asked you to, wouldn't you?" he asks, spinning his cane with the flick of his fingers, utilizing his hypnosis magic for the first time that day. He needs to ensure your loyalty lies with him.

"Yes." You answer without reluctance.

Fellow's cane magically disappears from his hand. "Such a good little whore." He takes a strand of your hair in his fingers and twirls it before gently tucking it behind your ear. "Now, a few more formalities before we get you ready for the stage. Shall we?" You flinch at the sound of him smacking the rope against the floor, like he's trying to command a circus animal.

Your mind is fuzzy, body practically burning with desire—you don't even notice him guiding you to his desk. He bends you over the hard wood, your breasts and stomach pressing against the cool surface. He presses his body against yours, his erection grinding between your ass cheeks, and you can't help but moan. Fellow rips off his gloves, tossing them aside. His right hand snakes around your body and reaches into your panties, his fingers rubbing against your wet clit. He slips a finger inside you—finally.

"My, my…" he whispers. "So wet for me already. You’ll look so beautiful when you're on stage for everyone to see. My precious little toy."

Your breathe heavier as he continues to fuck you with his finger, tantalizingly slow. Just as you open your mouth to beg for more, he slips his finger out of you and slams a contract on the table in front of you.

"I need you to sign this first. Standard contract," he says casually. "This is a business, after all." He drops a pen within your reach. All the while, he continues grinding against you, his clothed cock rubbing against the sheer fabric of your panties, further tantalizing your throbbing clit. "Go ahead, Darling. I can't wait to show you off."

You sign your name on the dotted line, quickly dismissing what seems to be the final roadblock in your path to pleasure. There's nothing else in your psyche than how badly you need him to fuck you. Your pussy aches with desire—you can't wait any longer. "Please. Please, fuck me," you whimper, begging him to give you what you want.

"Oh, Darling," he purrs. "All in due time."

Fellow leans in close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "I wonder how many people will come tonight just to see this pretty little body of yours?" he asks. "How many men and women will stare at you, touching themselves as you writhe in pleasure? I bet you can't wait for them to see how much of a needy little whore you are. You were born to be a star." His voice is soft and seductive as he plays on your desperation.

"Now. Let's get you out of these clothes." He expertly unhooks your bra with a single hand. With a swift yank, it falls to the floor, revealing your perfect tits, hard nipples on full display. "Beautiful. So deliciously plump and round, my flawless doll."

You're still bent over the table as his fingers snake into the elastic waistband of your skimpy skirt and thong. He pulls it taut, ready to tear it right off of you... but he hesitates, remembering its one-of-a-kind value. Squatting slightly, he gently pulls your skirt and panties to the floor, utilizing the opportunity to bask in the aroma and view of your now-exposed pussy. He grabs your thighs where the stockings are and, quite impatient, rolls them down as his fingernails trail lines down the flesh of your legs in the process. He guides your feet out of each leg hole, revealing your full nudity. Seeing your juices glisten makes his eyes light up, mouth curling into a grin. His mouth waters and he inhales deeply, savoring your sweet scent. He can't help but lean for a taste, his tongue gliding against your folds and lapping up your essence. Your knees buckle as his warm, wet tongue explores your deprived cunt. Nothing has ever felt so good. Your entire body trembles and you cry out in pleasure. He keeps his hands firmly planted on your ass, holding you in place as he continues to lap up your pussy. It feels so good, it's almost painful. He pulls away after a moment and you whimper at the loss of contact.

"So, tell me, Love. Are you a virgin?" he asks with a sneaking suspicion. He traces his fingertips down your spine, awaiting your response.

You shudder, the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin is so tantalizing. "Yes," you answer, unable to hold back your excitement.

Fellow's eyes widen, surprised by how easy it was to get you to admit that. He smirks, continuing to caress your back. "Ah, perfect," he hums. "What a privilege it is to deflower you." He reaches for his phone on his desk and utilizes the speech to text feature to say one thing: “We’ve got a virgin.” He clicks the display off and gives you a wink. "The marketing team will start advertising for a very special show tonight. I wonder how many people will come to watch me break in a virgin? I'm sure we'll sell out! An incredibly rare specimen indeed."

His words send a chill down your spine. The thought of thousands of people watching you lose your virginity excites you even further, and you find yourself becoming increasingly aroused. Your whole body is hot—you can't help but squirm as your juices slowly drip down both legs. You shudder, picturing an entire audience getting aroused, their attention rapt on you. Just the thought of how many people will want you... all of those horny people, with their eager bodies and impatient erections at the sight of you losing your innocence. A hot sensation pools deep in your belly and your clit throbs with need. You roll your hips back toward him, wordlessly indicating your desires.

He pockets his phone, delighted that the plan is progressing so flawlessly. "Tell me, my dear, have you ever orgasmed before?" You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, and you shake your head. He grins, leaning in closer, his tail swishing between his legs and up onto your throbbing clit. It tickles so good. "Have you ever touched yourself?" Your body heats up, and a wave of shyness washes over you as you attempt to suppress a groan. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you to surrender yourself completely. "What a beautiful thing, modesty…" he muses. "Tell me, Dear. No need to be so shy." Your face is turning a dark crimson, and he's never found something so appealing in all his years.

"No. Not successfully," you answer softly. You've never been able to get yourself off. Your hands would wander as you'd lie in bed, desperate to find some sort of relief, but it never came. You've never had that pleasure before, and you were starting to think you may never experience it.

"Oh, Darling, you poor thing. I'll have to take care of that for you. I know all the tricks.” Hearing the zipper of his pants, you gasp in anticipation. He takes his cock out of his boxers and you feel the flesh of his hardened tip slide over your wet labia. He takes your hand in his and guides it to your clit, teaching you how to circle your fingers around it in the perfect motion.

"Just like that, Love," he whispers, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "You're doing so well. Doesn't that feel good?" You moan softly as he continues to guide you, his free hand on his cock, sliding up and down its length, using your never-ending juices as lubrication. He bucks his hips slightly as he starts to jerk himself off, letting out a quiet moan, teasing himself and rubbing his cock head against the sopping wet folds of your untouched pussy—knowing he has to save it if he wants a fruitful show. The way your face contorts and your lips part with desperate pleasure, he suddenly has to fight himself not to lose control and break your hymen right then and there.

Knowing that Fellow can’t help but touch himself to you amplifies the pleasure even further. Your fingers continue to dance over your clit and for the first time, it feels amazing. Every nerve in your body is electrified, your breath coming in short pants. Your hand feels like it's floating through space as he moves you like a puppet, directing your motions the way that he wants you. He rubs himself a bit faster as he watches you writhing, becoming more desperate and vocal than before. His own lust becomes insatiable. He’s sculpting you into the perfect masterpiece, just the way he likes it—his own custom sex toy.

"Just imagine all those people in the audience," he murmurs. His hand quickens on his cock and he groans. His hand over yours speeds up to match his pace, and he adds more pressure to show you exactly how to pleasure yourself. "All of those hungry eyes on you, craving every inch of you…" His hips jerk slightly and he moans, losing himself to his own dirty thoughts. Your clit is throbbing so painfully that tears begin to form at the edges of your eyes. He has never seen anyone become so intoxicated with the simple idea of him before, and you don't even realize how loud and desperate your moans and cries have become. His face flushes every time you scream his name, and your beautiful expression fills him with the greatest satisfaction, an image forever imprinted in his brain. The sight of you, so eager to please him—he knows now that he'll never let you go.

You feel yourself approaching explosion—the very first time—and your muscles tense in response. "Oh, fuck, every single one of them will be touching themselves, getting off to the sight of you, desperate to be where I am right now. And here you are, moaning my name as I prepare you, just aching for me to bring you to your first orgasm. You'll look so beautiful when I pop that sweet little cherry of yours."

He groans and bucks his hips, jerking himself off faster and faster. Your clit throbs, ready to explode. "You want to cum, don't you, darling?" His voice is low and husky, and he pants heavily. "Cum for me, darling, cum for me. I want to hear you scream for me." Your toes curl, knees buckling in ecstasy. He guides your hand even faster over your clit. "That's it, Love, just let go." His voice is the sweet encouragement that pushes you over the edge, almost on command. You feel a strange electricity ripple through your leg muscles, a release that exceeds every single thing you thought you knew about pleasure.

Your first true orgasm rips through your body like a tornado, tearing apart any inhibitions and preconceived notions about reality. Everything around you turns bright white as euphoria sweeps through your body, wave after wave leaving you moaning and shaking uncontrollably in his arms. Your legs feel like jelly, and it becomes impossible to hold yourself up. His fingers leave yours, transferring their tight grip to your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he fucks himself furiously to the sight of you. You were like putty in his hand, melting and molding according to his wishes—a perfect, brainwashed, fucked-out little slut.

Fellow lets out a strained grunt as he orgasms, painting your ass with his seed. He can't help but sigh in pleasure as he gazes lovingly at the blank and pliant expression on your face as he drains the rest of himself onto you. He sighs as his last spurts dribble from the tip of his cock, admiring how much he's marked you as his. You're still shaking and whimpering as you come down from your high, your face contorted in pleasure, your eyes glazed over and staring into nothing. You look absolutely fucked out, and he takes a moment to admire your blissful expression before finally releasing you from his grip. He gives you a small push, causing you to fall forward onto your hands. He takes a step back to admire his handiwork—your thighs are soaked with your own cum, and your ass is dripping with his.

"Such a good girl," he praises. "You did such a good job for me. You're going to be the best performer I’ve ever had. It's about time we take you to the stage to get you set up, my dear. You’re better than I could have ever imagined.” You can only gasp, too wrecked from your pleasure to respond in words. Fellow grins with satisfaction, memorizing the sight of his seed glistening all over your back, chuckling to himself as he wipes it off with a tissue. He tosses the tissue into a random corner of his office and then helps you find your footing again.

Gently lifting your chin, his gaze softens, mouth opening to form a gentle smirk. His thumb brushes against your trembling bottom lip, a caring and fond expression overtaking his features.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you begin to question the warmth in his smile and his affectionate gaze. Is your body's chemical response misreading signals, or are you witnessing evidence that Fellow perhaps has a bit more going on than simply taking sexual interest? A new, deeper desire to understand the mysterious man behind the curtain of your own experience begins to bloom in your mind. You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his hand cups your cheek. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on your lips and you return it, savoring the way his soft lips feel against yours. It feels so intimate, like a lover's kiss, and your heart flutters in your chest. You pull away and look into his eyes once more, trying to figure out what he's thinking, but you can't read his expression. His face is completely unreadable, granting you no indication as to whether you're making any progress in decoding him.

He takes off his coat and helps you put it on, wrapping you up to ensure your modesty is protected for your short walk to the stage. He takes your hand and guides you out of his office, your legs still shaking from climax.

You walk together in silence, hand in hand, your head still spinning as you try to process everything that just happened. You can't believe how incredible your first orgasm felt, and you're already craving another.

"What are you thinking about, Darling?"

"I'm thinking about how I’ve never felt that good before," you admit, blushing slightly.

Fellow chuckles. "That's very sweet," he says. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be sure to give you many more orgasms in the future." His grip on your hand tightens slightly, and you can't help but feel a sense of longing for him.

You continue walking in silence until you arrive at the stage. Fellow stops in front of the stage door and turns to face you.

"Are you ready, Love?" he asks, his voice gentle. He takes both of your hands in his and brings them to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. His carnelian gaze holds yours, his hot breath dancing across your fingers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.” Your heart swells and you feel yourself melting.

You nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hands, hoping he doesn't pick up on your nervous, pounding heartbeat. "I'm ready," you affirm, gazing intently into his beautiful, half-lidded eyes, feeling braver and more confident than you have all day.

He flashes a subtle smile. "Wonderful." He gives you one last peck on the cheek before turning to open the stage door. He places his free hand on your lower back and guides you onto the stage, leading you towards the center, where the lighting crew are busy at work. He introduces you and makes a show of presenting you to the crew—holding out your arm like he would for a debutante entering a ball, a prince presenting his chosen partner to a ballroom dance. The crew whistle and holler as you walk onto the stage. All you can do is stand there with the distinct smile of a hypnotized-yet-willing participant in the world's most eccentric 18+ theater. Their ogling is the furthest thing from your mind, as your attention remains firmly rooted on the charismatic manager in your grasp.

"Sorry, Boys. This one is mine. No one can have her but me." He places his hand on the side of your arm and pulls you close to him, draping an arm over your waist possessively.

As you glance up, your breath catches and your heart skips a beat; your adoring, hungry gaze is returned by his, a mirror of your own emotions shining through in his flaming irises. There's something strange about his stare—there always is. His face betrays some of that vulnerability again, an instance where he's truly letting his guard down, a crack in his meticulous and calculated visage. It’s a warm hint of softness that signals what he said to the crew might ring true outside of these walls as well.

Fellow turns back toward the crew as a new scene is placed before them, and within a split second, he resumes his demeanor of a business-oriented gentleman. "One hour ‘til showtime. Make her shine, People! We want the audience drooling the second she gets on stage!" He holds out his hand, his cane reappearing like magic. "Have fun in makeup!" He winks at you, the flick of his head gesturing you away.

Stylists appear behind you, and you reluctantly release your hold on him. He flashes a reassuring smile as you are guided away, a bewitchingly charming smile settling onto his lips. You head backstage, and he turns to get back to business.

Damn, if you made it all the way down here... wow. Thank you so much for spending this time with me. If you enjoyed this, that means a lot to me because this is pretty much just a self indulgent fic I started writing as soon as Fellow dropped without really knowing too much about him. I haven't begun writing part two, but I have my general ideas of where I want it to go. If you have suggestions for part two, please comment or send me an ask, I'd love to hear your thoughts! ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome

#Fellow Honest #Fellow Honest Smut #Twisted Wonderland Smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader smut #twst smut #twst x reader smut #twst fellow honest x reader smut #twst fellow honest smut #ferro honest #ferro honest smut #twst fellow #twst ferro #fellow honest x reader #ferro honest x reader #twisted wonderland fellow honest #stage in playful land #my writing

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shes2real · 29 days

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DILF ♡

Featuring 🌷: randy orton + female!reader

Warning ☁️: unprotected p in v, breeding kink, actual breeding, pregnancy mentions, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, praise kink, daddy kink if you blink, creampie, 18+ Minors, please don’t interact. Thanks! ୨୧

Word count 🌷: 1.5k

Scenario ☁️: Seeing how much Randy loves his children, you’re ready to give him another.

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As the gentle breeze swirled around the backyard, your daughter happily presented her father with the dainty princess-themed tea cup, filled with imaginary tea. "This is for you, daddy," she declared, her voice filled with excitement.

Grinning from ear to ear, your husband, Randy accepted the gift with exaggerated enthusiasm. It was his first weekend off in weeks, and even though he was known as the viper at work, genuinely he was a gentle giant who’d give the world to his family.

The backyard was transformed into a scene straight out of a storybook, with knick-knacks scattered around, juices, and a tea party in full swing. Your daughter, dressed in her princess attire, had insisted that everyone dress up for the occasion. Even your son, in his miniature tuxedo onesie, looked the part of a young prince. As the hostess, your daughter took her role seriously, instructing everyone to raise their pinkies with manners. When she noticed her daddy struggling, she let out a sigh, rolling her eyes.

“Noo! Like this," she instructed, guiding his pinkie into the correct position with a firm tiny hand.

"My apologies, princess.” He replied, his tone mockingly solemn as he attempted to mimic his daughter's etiquette, barely suppressing a chuckle.

Watching the scene unfold before you, your heart swelled with love. The bond shared between your children and your husband made all the challenges of life worthwhile. You knew that your family was ready for the next chapter, and the idea of welcoming another baby filled you with excitement and anticipation.

As the Sunday sun began to set, your family left the backyard behind and went inside of the house for dinner. As you busied yourself with tidying up after dinner, your mind drifted to thoughts of expanding your family, of bringing another little one into the world. It was a dream you had since you were a little girl, creating a large family. Randy could sense the shift in your mood,

"Hey, beautiful, you alright?" he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind, you leaned into his embrace, "Just thinking," you replied softly.

"About us, about our family... about maybe adding another little one to the mix."

His lips brushed against your temple in a tender kiss, his embrace tightening ever so slightly. "Is that really what you want, baby?” You nodded before he kissed your lips and headed into the living room. You all settled onto the plush sofa, ready to indulge in a Disney movie. After a very chaotic bath time and a quick change into their pajamas—your daughter sporting her favorite princess-themed set and your son snug in a baby shark set—everyone cozied up under a blanket.

As the evening wore on, the excitement of the day caught up with your children, the soft snores and heavy breathing signaled that they had succumbed to sleep. Your daughter, with her curls tumbling around her face, laying nestled against your side, while your son, his tiny fingers curled around Randy's hand, snuggled close to his chest. Exchanging a tender glance with your husband, "They’re so cute," you murmured, a contented smile playing at the corners of your lips.

He nodded, his arm draped around your shoulder. "Yeah, they are," he replied, "We did a damn good job."

Tonight felt like the perfect moment to start expanding your family with Randy, especially with the realization that you were currently ovulating, a fact you'd discovered earlier on your period tracker app.

After tucking your children into beds, you and Randy finally found yourselves alone in the intimacy of your shared bedroom. As you applied lotion to your skin, you couldn't help but notice Randy's intense gaze as he lounged on the bed,

"What's on your mind today?" he inquired, his voice laced with curiosity and affection.

You smiled coyly, reclining onto the bed and propping your feet on his thighs. "Whatever do you mean, hubby?" you teased, enjoying the sensation of his hands beginning to massage your tired feet.

Randy chuckled softly, his fingers expertly kneading the pressure points of your feet. "You've been acting a bit...distracted lately," he observed, pausing to glance up at you. "The kids aren’t the only ones missing their daddy, huh?" he quipped, his gaze lingering on you with playful amusement.

You hummed appreciatively at his touch, before guiding the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Well, can you blame me?" you countered with a mischievous grin. "You're such a dilf."

Caught off guard by your candid remark, Randy's laughter rumbled through the room,

"Touché,"

His playful demeanor softened, replaced by a more serious tone as he spoke. "About earlier," he began, his voice gentle yet firm. "Are you sure about this? I mean, really sure?"

You knew that Randy's career often took him away from home for long stretches of time, leaving you to shoulder much of the responsibility for raising your children alone. And with the guilt he carried for not always being there and missing out on treasured moments, you understood his apprehension.

"I just don't want you to feel overwhelmed, especially with me not always being around," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret.

"We'll figure it out together," you reassured him, "With you being home, even if it's just for a little while, means everything to us."

Without saying another word, he gently takes your feet off of his lap and easily spreads your legs so he’s hovering on top of you. He leans in until his nose is almost touching yours, and he kisses you sweetly, “I love you baby.”

Reaching in between you two, his fingers travel to your bare pussy. As he runs a finger across your slit you begin trembling at his delicate touches. As your eyes met his, a lust filled haze taking over, Randy smirks.

“Ready for me, huh?” he mutters as he begins to trace circles on your clit, “So wet,” he coos, slowly pumping his finger in and out of you.

He massages your insides gently at first before he begins to scissor his fingers inside of your pussy. As he fucks his fingers into you, you gasp as each pump knocks the air from your lungs, “Jussttt like that…takin’ my fingers so good.”

You feel his words in the pit of your stomach as that little knot forms causing you to announce your climax, “Oh! Fuck- ‘m cumminggg!”

“Yeah, I know you are.”

As you clenched around his fingers, you felt your cum running out of you. He never stopped helping you ride out your high, his thumb soothing your clit. He pulls his fingers out of you causing you to gasp from the empty feeling, Randy takes this opportunity to put his fingers into your mouth. You watch him intently as you roll your tongue around his fingers, cleaning them of your slick, his eyes never leaving yours.

Randy quickly removes his boxers before running his shaft up and down your slippery cunt, you softly moaned as he pushed his length in. "So beautiful, baby" He whispers as he begins to stroke inside of you.

"Hnnn...." You whine as your legs voluntarily spread wider.

“How does it feel, hm?”

"Ohhh..." you moaned, your eyes shutting tightly.

Randy rests there, just for a moment, before speaking again, “Open your mouth, tell me how it feels.”

Reaching for his waist, you desperately try to get him to move again, “So good! Fuck me, please..”

Randy smirks as he begins fucking you roughly. Biting your lip, you try to control your moans trying not to wake the kids."That's it, baby," he says, voice soft, in a soothing tone. "Such a good girl."

His words have you clenching around him. He grunts in between thrusts resting his forehead on yours before he starts giving you slow, deep strokes, “You close?”

In response you wrapped your legs tightly around him, covering your mouth. He kissed you as he sped up, hitting your spot perfectly with more force. You pushed him back, moaning hoarsely, “I-I..Ran-“

He pulls out of you, rubbing your clit as you begin to squirt. "You’re okay baby, let it out. I knooow." He cooes. With the pleasure and sensitivity coursing through your body, you could barely breathe.

Gently sliding back inside of you, your breath hitches as he goes deeper and deeper inside of you. Tears begin to roll down your cheek as he rolls his hips rhythmically into you.

"Look at me." He said as your eyes locked onto his, never letting your contact break even as he begin to fuck you harder.

“Gonna look so beautiful with my baby in you…” He groaned before pressing down on her stomach.

“You feel me, right here?” He looked at you as you nodded, moaning out in bliss.

“I’ma have you walkin’ round full of daddy’s cum,” Randy strokes began to get deeper, “You want that baby?”

Your eyes were in the back of your skull as you felt your orgasm. “Yes! Fuckk- I love you, I love you, I love you!” You chanted as a wave of pleasure ripped through your body. As your legs tightened around his waist, he stilled and released his load inside you. He slowly pulled out, semen pouring from your swollen pussy. His thick fingers pushed his cum back inside of you as you whimpered at the feeling of his seed in your womb. You sighed happily, knowing that your husband granted your wish.

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Thanks for reading babe ☁️🌷

・❥ ・ @kumapassion @romanreignsbae @pittieprincess22 @cyberdejos2 @xoxoril3yyy @rwbypatootie @solefae @adoreesun @alyyaanna @shantinextdoor @zombiedixon89 @nashalis97-blog @browneyedgirlfriend4l @girlnred @theasiaabattoir @glitterywitchstarlight @brienivl @melaninpvssypoppin

#wwe smut #wwe imagines #randy orton #randy orton smut #randy orton imagine #randy orton fanfiction

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lemon-boy-stan · 6 months

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BIRTHDAYS - DILUC RAGNVINDR

Summary: Diluc's always hated birthdays, but ever since he's been with you, they've gotten better. Genre: angst, fluff, light smut, family themes. Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of family member death, slight alcoholism, sad themes at the start (it gets better I swear), sex, pretty vanilla but still MDNI, unprotected sex, foreplay, breeding, pregnancy before marriage. A/N: I should have saved this for his birthday LMFAO but I WANT YOU ALL TO SUFFER. PS. I have several requests in my inbox and I will get to them, I promise, just have been facing a writer's block so I wrote this to get out of it!! Hope you enjoy this for now.

Diluc hated birthdays; ever since his eighteenth when his father died, but he knew you loved them. Diluc never drank, but on his birthday, he always found himself pouring glass after glass of wine, drinking the bitter liquid, staring ahead at the crackling fire.

The first birthday he spent with you, he forgot you lived with him.

He expected the house to be empty again, it's ghosts roaming the halls, maybe the faraway sounds of the maids cleaning before they go home. Diluc only ever drank grape juice, and watched with disdain whenever he saw someone drinking an alcoholic beverage.

It was late at night when you came back to the Winery, the maids greeting you at the door. "Luc!" Your loud, happy voice sang, a wave of confusion flowing over him.

"Happy Twenty-Fourth Birthday, Master Diluc!" You chirped, finding him at the long dining table, running up to him and flinging your arms around him, before smelling the wine on the table, on his lips. "Master Diluc?" You murmured softly.

He let out an angry, slurred sound. Your eyes began to brighten, and you bit your cheek to stop yourself from crying. "Master Diluc," you said softly, "what's wrong? Why are you drinking? You hate alcohol."

He grumbled wordlessly, "couldn't save him." His eyes bright and firey red, he looked close to tears. He reached for the bottle, pouring the glass for probably the nth time that night. As soon as he filled the glass, you snatched the bottle.

He was glaring at you now, and not his reflection in the window above the fireplace. Good. "Give it back," he hissed, the words slurred. "I'm not arguing, YN, give it back now." His bright, red eyes could've scared away an Abyss Mage, but not you.

You shrugged, finishing the bottle in one drink. The alcohol hit you like a freight train. You didn't drink alot, only on special occasions or when you were invited to drink with your friends, but even still, you were a lightweight.

You lost your balance and fell, crashing to the ground, body hitting the newly-cleaned floorboards of the mansion.

Diluc roared, the sound rattling the walls of the Winery as he jumped out of his chair, the legs squealing on the floor. He didn't care about the scratches.

"ADELINE!" His voice shook through the house and the maid came running to him, no longer dressed in her work clothes, "yes, Master Diluc?" He finally let the tears fall from his eyes. "Get a doctor," he breathed shakily, "now. Please."

Diluc did not drink on his twenty-fifth birthday, instead, he sat with you outside on the roof, watching the stars fly by. He brought you up through the window in the attic; "Kaeya and I used to come up here as kids." It was a very big window.

He turned to you, "do you want children?" Taking your hand, which was cold even though you were wearing his big, red coat. You smiled at him, "I want everything with you, Master Diluc." He smiled back, leaning in to kiss you.

"I didn't know you wanted children," you whispered softly into his lips, his coat making the tiles of the roof more comfortable. "I want them to look like you," he murmured, sliding his hand between your legs, "I want them to have your pretty voice." He kissed your lips, moaning and moving down to your neck.

"Oh, but Master Diluc, won't people be able to hear us?" But you arched your back nonetheless. He smirked, "it's my birthday, love." Brushing his finger against your panties softly. You moaned quietly, "mpph, oh, okay... If you insist... Nggh,"

"I'm going to give you my children," he purred softly, "and then I'm going to marry you." You moaned even louder at this, "oh, Master Diluc." And he chuckled softly, "you like that?" You nodded, "yes, Master Diluc, please." But all he did was smile, "'please' what, hmm? Be specific." Digging his finger into the fabric of your panties.

You moaned again, louder this time. "Please fuck me," you whined. He smirked, "I said be specific, dear." You clenched the coat with your hands, "please breed me, Master Diluc. I want to have your children, please." He smiled again, "good girl."

On Diluc's twenty-sixth birthday, you finally decided to tell him. It was a Friday, and you stayed at home with him the whole day rather than going out to do errands (the maids often did the errands, but you enjoyed going shopping. It was calming.), eating a delicious meal prepared by Adeline, no wine.

He was enjoying his birthday more this year. He was happy, but he was always talking about how he liked throwing parties in the Winery because it was always empty. Two people was a small amount for such a big house.

The other day you caught him at the store, looking at baby shoes. You'd thought you'd blown it already. "Aren't they so cute?" He bounded up to you. "Let's have a baby. Please." Archons, how were you supposed to hide it now??? You smiled and shook your head, "one day, Diluc."

Diluc turned to you, looking up from his meal. "Are you alright, dear?" You smiled at him, nodding. "I have... Another surprise," you said slowly, watching him. He smiled, "you've already outdone yourself with the presents, my love."

"It's... Kind of a present," you looked down at the table, smiling. You took the test from your pocket, sliding it over to him.

He spent a good five seconds staring at it before snapping his head up. Diluc never cried, but tonight there were tears falling from his red eyes. "You're pregnant?" He whispered, as if it was too good to be true. You smiled, "yes," he blinked, pulling you close to him, "Archons! You're pregnant! I'm gonna be a dad! We have to get married! I just can't believe it! How?... When?..." You giggled softly, so, so relieved that he was happy, burying your head into his neck.

"Three weeks ago," you said, "I was feeling a bit sick so I went to the doctor... They told me to take a test." Diluc cocked his head. Ever since his birthday last year you'd been trying, but no such luck. "But how..." He was in awe. You blushed, "remember that night where you got jealous of that random bard flirting with me while you were working?"

Diluc scowled, "oh. Him. But still..." You giggled, hitting him softly on the shoulder, "remember what you did to me after?" And now Diluc was blushing. "But how on earth did you hide it from me?" You grinned, "I have my ways, Master Diluc. You're not the only one who's got secrets!" Diluc kissed you firmly, "Oh, this is fabulous. Archons! I can't believe it... I really can't! ADELINE!"

The maid came running in, clearly still traumatised from last year. "Master Diluc! Is Miss YN quite alright? What's wrong?" Diluc shook his head, "no, nothing of the sort. Please send out a message to everyone! Tell them to come over immediately, we're celebrating!"

Adeline smiled, "a birthday celebration? I'm sure Miss Jean and Mr. Kaeya would love to -" but Diluc beamed, cutting her off. "No, no! Something much better! My beautiful girlfriend is pregnant! We're going to have children!" He looked so unbelievably happy.

Adeline's face lit up, "well, of course! A party surely must be in order... I'll deliver the message right away and call the other maids to help set up! Oh, congratulations, Master Diluc! This is wonderful news!"

You sighed happily, resting your head against his shoulder as Adeline ran off to send the message. Diluc gripped your hand, "I can't believe it. You have no idea how happy this makes me... We're going to have children! My... This is the best birthday ever."

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

#genshin #genshin impact #diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #diluc x you #genshin impact smut #diluc fluff #diluc angst #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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sweetbans29 · 1 month

Text

Hey You - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x reader

Summary: You and Caitlin have a history - from growing up together to dating in high school. You both decided that it would be best to end things before going to college and that's what you did. Little did you know that seeing each other nearly four years later would have you both admitting things should have been different.

Warnings: You are looking at some angst, some suggestive themes and some fluff, nothing too crazy ;) mentions of head injury

Word Count: 6.0k

Hey You PART 2

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Hi and welcome! This is my first writing and would love any feedback or ideas! I hope you enjoy!

You were sitting in the backseat of your friend's car rubbing your hands on your jeans. Your friend Jamie was driving you and two other friends to the women's NCAA basketball game in Cleveland. All of you attended a university in Pittsburgh and thought it would be a fun girls' day to go watch the championship game. It was going to be iconic and deep down, you knew you wouldn't miss it for the world. You had been following the teams closely this year despite the squeeze to your heart that came with seeing her name. Looking out the window you continue to rub your hands on your pants.

Your friends all knew Iowa was home for you and that you played basketball growing up. They knew you had friends who ended up playing college ball but an injury you suffered junior year of high school caused you to shift gears when it came to college. They also knew that you and Caitlin Clark had played high school ball together - but that was all they knew on the subject. They didn't know you had grown up together and had been best friends since the first day of sixth grade or that she held your heart in high school and may or may not hold it today.

As you look out the window your mind begins to wander back to when you were young...

It was the first day of sixth grade and your family had just moved to Des Moines, IA for your dad's job. Starting at a new school at the start of junior high was not ideal but you were determined to make the best of it. As you entered homeroom - you took a seat next to another girl who wasn't completely dolled up due to it being the first day. You didn't say anything as you sat down and pulled out a notebook that was completely covered in NBA stickers. The girl next to you perked up when she looked over and saw several familiar faces, even some of her favorites.

She leans over and points to one of the players and says, "That is one of my favorites." I look up at her with a huge smile and reply, "He is great but not as great as Kobe." She nods in agreement and we continue talking about other players who made their spotlight on your Fivestar notebook.

Fast forward to freshman year of high school - you and Caitlin are at pre-season training. Both of you had a single goal in mind which was making varsity. You knew she would make it no problem, but for you, it was going to take a little more. The two of you put in the work, when you weren't at training you were either at a park practicing or at her house training. When you found out you both made varsity after all those hours of hard work you went out to get froyo to celebrate. The night ended with a sleepover at yours that included a movie marathon and many many snacks.

When you snap back to being present with your friends, you realize you are already at the arena. You take a deep breath and get out of the car with your friends to brave the lines to enter the stadium. It was amazing to see the attention women's college basketball has gotten during March Madness this year. The spotlight on all the teams in the Sweet Sixteen, then the Elite Eight to the Final Four all leading to today had brought a lot of attention to the sport and the players. Not only the spotlight on the teams but the spotlight put on Caitlin was something that never really surprised you as you knew how incredible she was and is. Seeing how much she had blown up made you proud of the player she had become but also rattled the box you had put her in that lived in the deepest part of your heart. As you are standing in line to get in, your mind takes you back again...

It was the summer before junior year and your mom and dad just surprised you with your own car. You freaked out and couldn't stop thanking them. Of course, it was their pleasure as you were almost the perfect child. Caitlin was already on her way over as you had plans to go out to get food before having a lazy day. The two of you always worked hard but on the other side of that, you both had major lazy days throughout your friendship. These lazy days consisted of movie marathons, pillow forts, naps, and all the snacks you could ever imagine. The beginning of these days stemmed from making plans one day but you were both so tired you ended up napping on the floor in Caitlin's living room, never seeing the light of day.

Caitlin pulls in and you come running out pointing at the car in the driveway. She jumps out of her car and you both freak out and jump right in. After grabbing food you headed back to yours and settled into the pillow fort you had set up before she got there. You throw on Princess Diaries and you both are knocked out within the first 20 minutes.

When you feel yourself come back to consciousness, you notice the only light in the room is coming from the TV screen. You also felt extremely hot. As you begin to move you feel a squeeze around your torso. Looking down, a smile appears on your face as you realize Caitlin is cuddled into your side and hugging you as if you were a teddy bear. Your arm is draped around her back as her head is nestled into your neck. Her breath is steady - inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It was slightly comedic as she has a solid few inches on you but when she was curled up into your side she looked like a little girl. You slowly start to rub her back and you hear her groan and bury herself deeper into you and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

This wasn't the first time that you both had ended up cuddling next to each other on a lazy day. It had become more common over the last few months than it had been before. You noticed it was typically Caitlin who ended up cuddled into your side but every blue moon you ended up in her arms. Once one of you woke up, you would usually break apart almost immediately - secretly both wishing it would last longer. It all felt so natural that neither of you questioned it. Due to how dedicated you both were to your sport neither of you really had time for boys or relationships so you both just leaned into each other.

You continue to rub her back until you feel her fingers play with the backside of your shirt - this is your signal that she is no longer asleep. Neither of you made a move to untangle yourselves from the other and that was when you knew that the feelings you were pushing down for your best friend might be reciprocated and that alone was enough to hold her even tighter.

Later that night you took your new car and went to get ice cream. You both sat there for hours talking and laughing. That night held your first kiss with Caitlin. It was in the parking lot of your local grocery store, a pint of ice cream in the center console. It was nothing crazy but as you drove back home with her hand in your hand, neither of you could wipe the smile off of your face.

You are brought back to reality when your friend nudged you for the tickets as you were next to get them scanned. While you didn't have to worry about the drive, you were tasked with getting the tickets. Grabbing your phone, you open up your tickets for the guy to scan. As you all pass through security at Rocket Mortgage Fieldhouse, you make your way to your seats before braving the sea of spectators to grab yourself some food and a drink (there was no way you were getting through this whole event without a drink by your side).

The usher directed you to where your seats were and you were insanely grateful that you were the one to choose where you all sat. You choose the same section you always supported Caitlin in your senior year of high school...

It was the championship game junior year of high school and you were in the starting lineup. The game was going to be a tough one but you had no doubt in your mind that it wasn't yours for the taking. Everything was perfect. You were already talking to a couple schools to play in college. Caitlin and you had been dating for a few months and you were going to ask her to be your girlfriend your next lazy day which so happened to be tomorrow. Everything seemed it was going your way.

The seconds were counting down in the second quarter and the score was 38-38. If there was one thing you knew, it was that you were not going into halftime tied. You were passed the ball as the seconds ticked away. The other team had just scored, which gave your team possession with just enough time to make something happen. As you made your way down the court you scoped out the scene in front of you. The other team was doing everything in their power to avoid yours from scoring.

Your first vision played out was getting the ball to Caitlin, knowing she could make it happen but the girl defending her was doing a damn good job of keeping her just out of reach. You then scanned to my other teammate Jada who you knew was great at getting the ball where it needed to go in the nick of time. As you were about to pass it her way you took one final look at the clock and realized that time was just about out. You made the decision to take it up the middle, faking the defender that was covering you and going for a quick layup on the left side. As your last foot left the ground, before you knew it you were back against the ground with a pulsing head and pain shooting everywhere.

You don't dare move, you have no idea what just happened. There is a ringing in both of your ears and your vision is blurry and the pain - the pain has your body shutting down to protect itself. Your eyes start to close slowly as you faintly feel someone grab your arm as someone appears in your sight. It takes you a second to realize it is Caitlin - you give a small smile. Then everything goes black.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. That is the first thing you hear as you start to regain consciousness. Confusion hits almost immediately as the last thing you remember is getting ready to play the championship game. You begin to wiggle your fingers and they feel sore, now that you start to feel more - everything is sore.

Before you decide to open your eyes you try to take a deep breath. Yet another thing that is painful to do. You decide you need to open your eyes to figure out where you are and what has happened. As your eyes open, it takes a few blinks to get a clear picture of what is in front of you. You are in the hospital, in a hospital bed. The sun is shining in through the window and you start to look around to see if you can find any clues as to what has happened. There are no casts or bandages that you can see but when you make a minor move in the bed it felt like you got hit by a truck.

Your mom was in the room reading a book. When you began to move, you let out a groan which caused her to look up and quickly make her way to your side. As she gets to your bedside, your dad makes his way through the doorway.

"Baby girl, oh baby girl," your mom begins as she gives you a hug which really only causes more pain to shoot around your body but you weren't going to push her away. Your dad comes and sits on your other side and takes hold of your hand.

"Hi sweetie," your dad says. You look up at him and with your eyes try and get him to explain what had happened, knowing your mom wasn't in a state to do so.

"You were taken out seconds before the halftime buzzer went off," he began. Your eyes lay intently on him. He takes a moment before continuing. "You were going for a layup to put your team ahead going into halftime and a girl from the other team misjudged your movement and body slammed you causing you to go head-first into the ground."

It then all started coming back to you, the pain that shot straight to your head and trying to not pass out. You let go of his hand and start to feel around your head. It had a wrap around it which you didn't even think about when you were making your first assessment of what had happened. Your dad continued.

"You were rushed to the hospital due to your ears bleeding and you not waking up. The doctors determined you had a skull fracture and took you to an emergency surgery. Everything went smoothly and you are recovering well," your father says with sad eyes. If there is anything you know about your dad it is that he shares your dream of going to a D1 school to play basketball in college. The way he was looking at you right now, you immediately knew that even though the surgery went well, everything you had hoped and dreamed about was all about to change.

You continued to listen to how your parents were so happy you were alive and okay and that you should make a full recovery - even though you knew deep down that it truly wouldn't be full. You had learned that it has been almost 2 days since the game. Your parents step out of the room to give you some time to rest - even though you couldn't look at a screen that just left you sitting there with life-changing news. You looked around to see if you could find your phone to text or call Caitlin when she made her way through the door.

She looks just as beat up as you feel. As she walks up to you, she avoids eye contact which you so desperately wanted. Without saying a word, she comes up to your bedside and slowly makes her way into the hospital bed with you. You lift your arm and allow her to curl up by your side. A deep breath finally escapes your body and as you exhale you can feel her body release silent sobs.

All you can do is rub her back. Lying there with her has jogged your memory that she was the last face you saw before you blacked out on the court. Knowing her, these past two days were probably a living hell. You muster up all the strength you have to lean down and kiss the top of her head.

Not many people knew about your relationship. It was really only family and your coaches. Being on the same team, you both decided it would be best to keep your relationship between the two of you. It was a challenge at times but everyone knew the two of you were best friends so there were a lot of things that you did that people wouldn't look twice at.

One thing about Caitlin was that certain things were enhanced when you two started dating. Most of the things didn't affect your day-to-day like the amount of sweatshirts she stole doubled (which didn't bother you as you would just steal hers to replace the ones she had taken, it got to the point where it started a playful argument over a sweatshirt that she swore was here but was actually originally yours). Another that affected her more than either of us really realized was how protective she had become.

You first realized this when you got fouled at practice and Caitlin got all up into her space yelling at her. You had to grab her and pull her away which then led your coach to call for everyone to do suicide sprints. You don't even want to think about the girl who fouled you in the game and caused you to be hospitalized.

"Hey you," you say as it had sort of become your way of saying 'hey babe' without the world knowing. You feel her shift in your arms as she brings her hand up to wipe away her tears.

"You scared me," is all she says before letting out a few more silent sobs. You continue to rub her back and give her shoulder a little squeeze.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," you respond with a laugh. The laugh hurts but decide to keep quite about your pain, only quiet to Caitlin, never your doctors.

The two of you spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on the hospital bed. When the sun starts to go down you tell Caitlin she should head home to get some rest. She protests, of course, but ultimately folds to your request. She comes over and gives you a quick peck which leaves you unsatisfied. You grab her hand and pull her back to give her a proper kiss. As your lips part you mumble a breathy 'I love you'. It was the first time it had been said between the two of you in a manner that wasn't referring to your friendship. The smile that spread across her face lifted your soul.

"I love you," she replies as she leans down pressing her lips against yours. "Well not I REALLY don't want to go," she says with a laugh.

"One night won't hurt anyone - also you need a shower," you say making a face to try and sell the fact that you just called your girlfriend smelly. She scoffs and waves you off.

Following getting out of the hospital, it was a hard reality to face that you weren't going to be able to play ball for a long while. The journey ahead was a long one and you couldn't be more thankful that Caitlin was right by your side.

Two of your friends were coming back with beers when you snapped back to where you were. It was just about time for the athletes to come out and begin their warm-ups. Your heart began to race as you heard the announcer call the teams out.

As both teams make their way onto the floor, your eyes scan for her. As much as you didn't want to, you couldn't help yourself. It took about a whole 5 seconds to find her. Your heart stops and it feels like time slows as you see her running out and making her way to warm up. The first thing you notice is how even after four years, she starts warming up from the same spot. She is on the opposite side of the court facing where you are sitting getting ready to start her pregame ritual. You then notice, how her upper body has filled out a little more as she has matured and increased her strength training. Her hair is in a neatly pulled-back pony with a headband to catch her flyaways. She was as cool as a cucumber.

There were so many things that amazed you about Caitlin but one of the biggest ones was how calm she was before a game. Especially a game like today.

She was completely mesmerizing. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that she was living her dream. You watched her as she continued to warm up and couldn't wait to cheer her on.

The seats you had chosen were right across from Iowa's bench. every game you watched your senior year of high school was from this exact location.

As the warm-ups come to an end and they are just about to announce the starting lineup, your heartbeat begins to quicken...

Going into senior year, your relationship with Caitlin was better than ever. It was a tough journey to come to face the fact that you weren't going to play ball your senior year but you put all that extra energy into loving and supporting Caitlin. You still went to practice and your coach sort of brought you on as an assistant coach. It was great still being a part of the team.

You decided to play the role of the supportive girlfriend during games rather than sitting on the bench with the other players and coaches. It wasn't that you couldn't sit on the bench, rather it came from knowing how competitive Caitlin gets. She didn't need another person telling her how things could have been different or better, she needed someone who was going to cheer her on no matter what and get her out of her head when she got tunnel vision. She was the hardest person on herself.

Before every game when they called her name in the lineup as starting point guard and she made her way down the line of girls she got to the end and pointed to you with a smile. Then at the end of every game, you would wait down the hall of the girls' locker room and greet her when the team got out of their post-game meeting. It became your guys' things.

You weren't expecting it. It didn't even occur to you but when they announce her name and she makes her way down the court and at the end of the line she points directly in your direction and smiles. Your heart stops and she stops in her tracks, her smile dropping immediately. She does a double-take and just stares at you for a second. A small smile starts to creep onto your face and her eyes are on yours. You give her a little nod and she finally breaks away shaking her head with a smile growing on her face. She joins her team for their first huddle of the game.

Your heart feels like it is beating out of its chest. You had imagined it a thousand times since your friends mentioned wanting to go to the championship game. It was the reason you chose these seats. Even in all of the fantasizing about seeing her - you didn't imagine it to actually happen. There were thousands of people in this arena and her eyes found yours.

As the team is in their huddle, she stands up and looks back over at you. A smile now playing on her lips in full view as she can't stop glancing over to the familiar spot.

You want to go down to her and tell her to focus on her coach. Her head needs to be in this game and not turning to look up at you. Although the frequency of her looks brings butterflies to your stomach with every glance.

Once they break, the game begins and you can see Caitlin lock into the game. You cheer with all the other fans as the final game of her college career is underway.

The game is a complete nail-biter. There were times when Caitlin absolutely was killing the game, shooting her signature threes and playmaking. At other times, she let the ball slip and you knew that she would hold onto that but never let anyone see how much it truly affected her. She was really good at shaking off her mistakes in the eyes of others but you knew her too well.

As the game begins to come to an end and you can see the victory slip away from Iowa, your eyes focus on your girl. She is staying composed but you know she is feeling it. In the final minute of the game, Caitlin makes her way to the bench, hugging each one of her coaches then takes a seat with a blank stare.

Your eyes try to stay away from her but she naturally draws your attention. In the final seconds of the game, as South Carolina begins to celebrate Caitlin's eyes make their way to yours. You only hold them for a second but that was all you needed to know she was hurting.

The game ends and you see the team head into the locker rooms. Your friends decide to head to the floor to see if they can talk to any of the players (more like the player's brothers), You use this time to sneak away and try to find the Iowa locker room. You know there is no way they would let you in but you start sweet-talking the security guard. In less than 2 minutes, you were pacing in the same spot you would always wait for Caitlin after a game. As you wait for her, your nerves pick up as your mind continues to take you down memory lane...

You and Caitlin had just graduated high school and you were celebrating in your favorite fashion, with her curled up in your side. The plans the two of you had for the summer were laid out on the floor next to you. It was going to be the best summer and indeed it was until it wasn't.

It was a few days before Caitlin needed to head off for off-season training at the University of Iowa. You were hanging out at her house in her gym. You both had been avoiding the elephant in the room.

It was a conversation you both knew you needed but didn't want to have. You knew that Caitlin's only commitment was to play D1 ball which was once your dream too. You also know to do that, she couldn't have anything holding her back.

The two of you finish some conditioning which leaves you both panting and sitting on the floor.

"As much as I love you, I hate doing cardio," you say in between breaths.

"Ya well, my favorite form of cardio involves a lot less running and a lot more of you..." she says with a smile. "Caitlin!" You gasp and push her over as she bursts out laughing.

You let out a few laughs yourself but then hear her quiet down. Looking over at her, you see her whole mood shifts. She comes in and hugs your torso, burying her face in you. You scoot closer to hold her, knowing what is about to come next. It feels like hours pass before you decide to speak.

"Caitlin, you know I love you. And I want the world for you. You are and will always be my best friend," you say rubbing her back. She squeezes you even more. "We both know where your head needs to be when you head to training. You will always be my person but in this next season you need to be your teams' person."

Silence fills the space again. Your eyes begin to fill with tears and you swallow the sobs that taunt your lips. Then she finally speaks.

"You are my person," she says just above a whisper, you almost miss it.

"This doesn't mean I will stop being your person. Like I said, I will always be your person. We both knew this was coming and we have done a really good job of putting it off," you try to lighten the mood. She doesn't budge.

She lets go of you and sits up. You wipe away her tears. They just keep falling.

"I just don't like the idea of losing you," she says as she starts playing with a piece of your hair. "You aren't losing me, babe," you reply but both of you knew that wasn't true.

"This was always the plan," you start. "And I will always be cheering you on," you say with the best smile you could muster. No matter how much it would hurt you would support her until your last breath.

"So that means you will be at the championship game when I take Iowa to the NCAA championship?" her question lightening the mood.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," you say as you give her one last kiss.

You are pulled back to reality when you hear some of the players head out. Caitlin was typically the last one out of the lockers and with the way you knew she was feeling it was going to be a minute.

It is about another 15 minutes of you pacing in the hallway for the door to open again. Your head whips around to see her coming out. She looks completely defeated. She would never show this side of her to the press.

As you turn to face her, she looks up. You say the only thing that felt right.

"Hey, you."

She immediately makes her way to you. Your arms wrap around her as her head buries its way into your neck. Despite her being taller, Caitlin loved to be held as if she was the shorter one. Your heels were definitely helping.

"I really wanted that," she mumbles into you after a few moments. You rub her back like you always used to. "I know...I know."

"Your legacy is so much more than that one game and I am so beyond proud of everything you have accomplished," you begin. "And with that, I know this was one of your dreams." Caitlin stays quiet and sinks into being held by you.

The two of you finally break apart, her hand doesn't leave your arm and you can't complain. You missed her touch so much. You missed her. She keeps rubbing your arm and you feel like you will melt.

"I have to head into a press meeting, but can we catch up later? Are you staying in town?" Caitlin asks.

"I came into town with some friends, we are staying at a hotel a few blocks away. Call me when you are done with press?" You reply hopeful.

"I'll call you the second I am out," she ways with a smile. Oh how you missed that smile.

You head back to the hotel you are staying at to change into something a little more casual. Your friends checked in and told you they were going out to a bar and wanted you to meet up with them. You let them know you were catching up with an old friend and that they shouldn't wait up for you. You get ready to meet up with Caitlin - changing your shirt and shoes into something more comfortable, keeping the jeans you wore to the game. Right after you finish changing your phone begins to ring.

"Hey you," you answer as you begin to gather a few things in your purse.

"Hey babe," Caitlin responds causing your cheeks to blush and your stomach to fly. A smile is plastered on your face. "I am out of press and am going to head to my hotel, would you be up for meeting me there?"

"Of course, just shoot over the address and I will head that way," you say as your phone pings. She was already sending it as you asked.

"I will see you in a few," she says before you both hang up.

You make your way to her hotel which is surprisingly only a 10-minute walk. You follow her directions on how to get up to her room and knock on the door. The nerves begin to build up and you feel like you are back in high school. Your hands make their way to rub against your jeans, a familiar place for them today.

Caitlin opens the door with a huge smile on her face as she moves away to let you in. "I thought it would be better to meet here, a little more privacy," she says as she closes the door.

The two of you spend the next 4 hours catching up on life and how college has been. She talks about all the records she has broken and how she can finally start looking at what comes after college ball. She talks about her family and how much they miss you. You follow her by also mentioning how your parents are so proud of her and miss her as well. You continue by talking about how you are going full-time with the company you are working for post-graduation. You talk about all the traveling you have been able to do and she gets to pitch in with the travels that she has done. It was like no time as passed, I mean above all you were best friends.

As the conversation begins to die down you realize how close the two of you became. You are sitting on a couch with your legs hanging over her lap and her hands on your knee.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your eyes and take in the moment. You feel her hand begin to make its way to your thigh.

"Seeing you in the crowd today was something else," Caitlin begins. You cut her off, "Well I made a promise once to be there if a certain someone that if they made it to the championship, I would be there."

"If???" Caitlin yells with a fake offended tone and slaps your knee. You let out a little yelp, "Okay, okay, when." Your eyes roll as she starts to draw patterns on your leg.

After another long pause, Caitlin speaks again.

"I think we made a mistake," she says not daring to look you in the eye.

If you were going to be honest, you never wanted to end things when you went to college but you weren't going to make things harder than they had to be. Long distance wouldn't have worked for the two of you. You would have managed but with her schedule and yours, it would have done more damage than good. So you didn't fight her but there were numerous times that you wish would would have fought for her on ending things.

"I think I made a mistake," she continues as she finally looks up at you. You take her hands in yours and reply, "It was the right decision at the time. We didn't know better, we were young."

You continue. "But that was then and here we are now," touching her arm and giving it a little squeeze. After seeing her and how she has filled out, you have been waiting to get your hands on her arms. "And we are both about to graduate and my plan was to come back to Iowa..."

"There is no one like you," she says as she leans closer to you. You let out a little laugh.

"No Caitlin, there is no one like you," you say as your hand comes up to cup her face. You both smile as your lips meet. It is like no time has passed, her lips are still so familiar.

After a few more kisses, you both moved to the bed. She curled up into your side and your arms made their around her. You are her home and she is yours.

"I love you," you whispered as you kissed her head.

"And I love you," she responds as you both drift to sleep, more at peace than either of you have felt over the past four years.

AN: TADA! Let me know your thoughts! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

Now go check out PART 2!

#caitlin clark #cc #caitlin clark x reader #iowa hawkeyes #caitlin clark imagine #iowa wbb

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wildestdreamsblog · 10 months

Text

Latibule VI

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: never tell me I don’t love my readers when I’m here writing when I just got my heart broken hehehehe

Masterlist, Latibule V

You turned around when you heard a dull thump of mug hitting the wooden table, distracting you from looking at the stars. Suga was standing behind you with his own steaming cup of coffee, looking tiredly at you before taking a seat.

“Finally got him to sleep?”

He sighed before taking a sip from his coffee. He brushed his hair away from his face as he looked up at the stars. “Seriously, who needs bedtime stories in order to sleep?” He scoffed, remembering how Jackson insisted that he read him stories because, and he quoted, ‘Ahjussi has a deep, nice voice perfect for princes and monsters’.

See, he didn’t even know why he digressed, but that little child looked up at him expectantly that he found himself doing voices that made the child laughed. It was so out of character for him, the big, bad mafia. If his men saw him like that, they would surely thought he hit his head or something. Even he thought that he hit his head. Otherwise, why would he do all those things?

“Children, Suga,” you chuckled at his exhausted face before returning your gaze at the stars, of how they twinkled back at you, of how tragically beautiful they were. You never tired of looking at them night after night, committing them to memory, admiring them from afar. “Didn’t your parents read to you when you were a child?”

He chuckled tonelessly. His family wasn’t exactly…conventional. Hell, if he was raised with normal childhood where parents loved their kids, would he have turned out fine and not the fucked up man he was? The one who was incapable of love?

You looked at him as he looked up at the stars, his hands resting behind him, supporting his weight. The night was quiet, peaceful even. He looked so stoic, so tranquil that you thought he would never answered. After all, you practically knew nothing about him. For heaven’s sake, you had to name him because he refused to give you his name. Despite him existing in your life for months, you didn’t know any truth about him. He was always quick to dodge your questions, asking you questions of his own instead of answering. You didn’t expect him to tell you any of his truths.

This was also the reason why you convinced yourself not to look too much into what you felt, or how your heart seemed to calm when he was near…or how you felt like you were no longer alone for the first time since that tragedy that changed the trajectory of your life. This was all temporary, you kept telling yourself.

One day, he would leave and you would be alone again.

However much to your surprise, he finally answered. “My mother…used to sing lullabies to me every night,” his deep voice divulged, his eyes still trained to the stars you loved to look up to every night. This was the first time he talked about her, the first time he looked back on the nightmare that was his childhood. “She loved singing those French love songs,” he chuckled humorlessly, remembering how her voice calmed the young Yoongi.

“She’s probably worried about you right now…” you mused, thinking of how he had been gone from his normal life for months now. What parent would have not been worried, you thought.

He smirked before looking at you with emotionless eyes. “Why? She’s dead. And even if she’s alive, I don’t think she’s the kind to be worried.”

You frowned, surely that wasn’t the truth, you thought. “Suga-“

He leaned in, looking intensely at you, taking your space as though it was his. He placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your face to his liking. “She gave me this scar,” he whispered, his tone light like he was merely talking about the weather. “Daddy dearest made her choose. Her face-“ he tucked your stray hair behind your ear, his fingers touching your softly as though he wasn’t telling you his tragic childhood. “-or my eye. Guess which one she chose?”

Your lips trembled at what he said. You struggled to look at his eyes, your eyes shifting. What kind of twisted parents would hurt their child? What kind of demon would scar a helpless child? This close and you could see how deep the scar was and it pained you to think of the young Suga bleeding and crying as he clutched his eye.

“And now, I’m hideous,” he sneered, taking your silence as rejection, as disgust, as loathing. He was about to step back when you reached out and slowly, oh so slowly, traced his scar.

“Who told you that?” You asked softly, looking at his eyes with sincerity that it terrified him because no one had ever looked at him like that. You smiled at him, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, Suga.”

He looked at you with wonder, his expression slowly relaxing. How could an angel such as you thought of him as beautiful? If…if you knew what he had done, what he was capable of doing, would you still willingly touch him?

Would you still call him beautiful?

Would you finally see him as the monster that he truly was?

You were about to pull away from him when he laid his hand on yours, unwilling to be separated from this feeling that he couldn’t name for how could he when he was never shown love? When he was never taught of love?

How could he knew he was falling for you when that emotion was foreign to him?

“I-is your father still alive?”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. He thought he would feel regret when he opened up about his past to you. Strangely, all he felt was peace. He felt lighter.

“Good,” you whispered, nodding your head. They didn’t deserve to still be in Suga’s life after the horrifying deeds they did to a defenseless child.

“Noona?”

You snapped out of the trance that you were in, quickly putting distance that Suga hated upon hearing Jackson. He was rubbing the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to where the two of you were. “I woke up from a nightmare. A monster was chasing me, ahjussi,” he said sadly, cheeks damped from his tears. He looked up at Suga with a pout, lifting his little arms expectantly. Yet Suga looked at him in confusion.

“What? W-what does he want, Angel?” He asked you, shifting his gaze from the young child to you as though he was asking for help.

“I think…he wants you to pick him up.”

He sighed before easily picking him up. The child was quick to wrap his arms around Suga’s broad shoulders, his chubby cheeks leaning on his shoulder. “I wasn’t scared, ahjussi! I knew you can fight the monsters,” he boasted sleepily.

Suga didn’t even notice himself smiling at the sentiment. Of course he would slay all the monsters…despite him being one. Once the two of you got him in bed, Suga was about to turn around and leave when he called for him, whining about wanting him to stay so he could slay his demons.

And in that moment, Suga looked at you for permission. He held your eyes captive, his eyes gently awaiting your decision. You nodded at him, and the three of you laid quietly. Jackson was fast asleep in between the two of you, the darkness of the night making it difficult for you to know whether Suga was sleeping. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he was already looking at you with his dark eyes, his body fully attuned to yours.

You turned to him, your hands under your head as you looked at him. “I’m glad you survived that,” you whispered truthfully, your eyes tracing his scarred one.

He looked as though he was contemplating. You thought he would never answer as he was only looking at you, but then he asked, “Why?”

“Because you’re here now.”

In that moment, he was convinced now more than ever that they never loved him. Because when you loved someone, you would never hurt them, you would never even entertain the thought of hurting them. No. When you love someone, you protect them. You cherished them. You would never, ever, lay your hands on them. Yoongi thought that he would rather die than hurt you.

“May I help you?” You asked the tall and broad shouldered man. You noticed him looking around the clinic, his back facing yours. He looked like he was at loss as to what to do.

He turned around slowly, his dark eyes focusing on yours as he took you in. You weren’t ready when you finally saw him. He looked like he could say that he was a movie star and you would completely believe him with no question asked. He could claim that he was a prince and you would say, ‘yep, that sounds right’.

In conclusion, his beauty was out of this world. And he looked like he was aware of it. He had this clean look in him, almost clinical in nature. His hair was neatly combed back, his long-sleeves folded to his elbow.

“I…” he started, his brows furrowed as he considered what and how he was going to say. “I lost my cat.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible!”

He scrunched his nose and thought whether losing Yoongi was really terrible. His life was way quieter without him. Did he really want to look for him, he thought. He looked like he was in deep contemplation. “It…is?”

Your head tilted to the side in confusion. Wasn’t it a terrible thing to have lost your own pet?

At your expression, he straightened and nodded his head solemnly, willing you to believe him. “Yes. It’s terrible. It is.”

“What did you say you lost?”

“Yoongi,” he whispered under his breath.

“What?”

“I meant- a cat. I lost a vicious cat. A dangerous one,” he stated, his voice strong. “It is imperative that I find him.”

You blinked at his statement, and then some more when he wouldn’t stop looking at you. “Do you want my help?”

Suga looked at the clinic’s secretary with a dull expression on his face. For weeks since he started working at that diner as a waiter slash guard when rowdy teenagers visited the diner with no intention to pay, he always picked you up from the clinic. It became your tradition to go home together. He would go to the clinic as soon as he finished his work, and you would be where he wanted you to be- in your office waiting for him.

So where the fuck were you now?

He had his arms crossed, his eyes trained on her despite her trembling form.

“She’s not here,” he repeated slowly, not liking the thought of not knowing where you were. It pissed him off. It unnerved him. It didn’t sit right with him.

“She left early with some guy…”

Min Yoongi had never felt that exceedingly terrifying feeling before. It gnawed at his bone, it punched his heart as his brain thought of million grotesque scenarios concerning you. Did his enemies find you? Did his enemies found out that he was fucking alive? Did they somehow get to you?

Did you now know who he truly was?

His hand curled into a tight fist as he felt darkness clung to his mind. Was this how his paradise end?

You eyed the man sitting on your sofa. You helped him looked all over the town to no avail, yet when you asked him if he had a picture of his pet so that the search would be easier, he claimed that he lost his phone early that day.

He was calmly sipping the coffee you made him, looking around your house with nonchalant observation. It was already dark outside and you kept on looking at the clock. You wondered where Suga was. It was hours past his shift and he still wasn’t home.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find your cat.”

He smiled gently at you before softly placing the cup of coffee back on the table. You noticed that his movement was always refined, that he moved with an air of elegance as though he was born with a golden spoon.

“That’s fine,” he started, his voice deep and his eyes shone with intelligence like he knew something you didn’t. “He’ll come.”

You were about to ask him what he meant by that when the front door slammed opened. Suga’s eyes seemed to appear darker than the usual, his form menacing. This was the first time you saw him resembled a wild predator. He seemed to appear unhinged, his look of bewilderment when he finally found you made you unconsciously stepped back as he neared you with heavy steps.

But you didn’t get far.

You would have fallen had it not been for his arms that wrapped around you tightly as though he would never let you go. You never knew how big he was until he had you plastered to him, his form completely enveloping you. This close and you could hear how hard his heart was beating, how it wanted to break free from the cage that was his ribs. This close and you could feel how his body was trembling with an emotion you didn’t know.

“S-Suga-“

“Never,” he growled, his dark hair cascading on his face making him looked more feral. He gently pushed you away, his hands on your shoulder as he made you looked at him with ferocity. He was taking you in, the alarm in his face hadn’t gone down an inch. But the moment he saw you, he looked as though a weight had been taken off his shoulder.

He had never felt as thankful to whatever deity or Gods that were out there than he did the moment he saw you alive, that you were still here in front of him, that he could still fucking hold you.

“Never, ever go somewhere without telling me first,” he growled at you with a dark look on his face . He was imposing and serious like you had never seen him before. “Never go somewhere where I cannot fucking follow-“

“Suga, please calm do-“

“Do you understand me, Angel?” He cut you off as he tilted your chin up, making you understood how fucking terrified he was, of how he would find any other answer unacceptable but your agreement. And when you finally nodded did he reluctantly let you out of his hands.

And only then did he notice the man sitting on the sofa with a smirk on his face.

“Hyung.”

- National Police Agency, South Korea -

Park Jimin was staring at his laptop unblinkingly. Ever since he found out who the traitor was, he was at loss with what to do. He was raised to value both the organization and family. And right now, he needed to choose between the two.

He couldn’t find the answer as to why he was able to do what he did. He couldn’t understand why he betrayed Yoongi when he protected them like they were his own brothers. Min Yoongi, as dangerous as that man was, took lashes for them. He would tell them to fuck off and then catch a bullet for them. He made the difficult decisions for them. He bled just so the seven of them could live.

Min Yoongi was the most loyal man he ever knew.

And so, how could that traitor do that to him?

“Detective Park.”

Jimin lifted his eyes to the man who called him. He was wearing his uniform, just having been temporarily promoted to Yoongi’s position. He was smiling like the sunshine he was perceived to be, yet behind those smiles lied something dangerous…something sinister.

“A word.”

He smiled at the traitor.

He smiled at Jung Hoseok.

Latibule VII

#bts yandere #bts fic #yandere bts #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x you #yandere min yoongi #min yoongi x y/n #mafia min yoongi #min yoongi yandere #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts mafia au

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bonny-kookoo · 10 months

Text

Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Intro

He says he can make you understand his way of love, that he can help you awaken desires you never knew you had. You give him seven days to prove it.

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements (only discussed), mild Angst, mentions of body dismorphia, mentions of past trauma and low self-esteem, fluff, slow burn, they have chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of revenge porn, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), it's not a heavy chapter but people complain I don't tag enough so here you go, SFW

Length: 2k

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡

A/N: This is an intro post which contains no smut. You can skip this one if other works have been posted, but much of the plot won't make sense without this.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook is a pretty talented guy.

Film director, photographer, occasional model by accident whenever he's seen at events. Apart from that, he values his privacy, has it all figured out how to keep his friends and family and everything else behind closed doors, and it's how you met him- a simple friend of Taehyung's, your former roommate and now best friend of almost five years. At first, Jungkook had thought you and Tae were more than friends- but he had quickly figured it out, had explained that he's got simply good senses when it came to reading people.

You didn't think much of it.

Then, a few weeks later after getting to know him, you had all sat in Jungkook's living room, eating takeout and drinking a little, when Taehyung had to leave early after a friend had called him. It was the first time you were left alone with Jungkook, who had kindly offered to drive you home later, once you want to leave. You'd told him about your hobbies- crocheting being one of them, and he had smiled about that. And excited as you were, you had mentioned how the top you'd been wearing was actually made by you- but that you thought the back looked boring, so you never wore it without a little jacket. He had offered to tie some decorative knots in the back, later showing his work off to you- and you had asked how he knew how to do that.

It's how you found out about that.. other side of him.

It took you weeks of dancing around the topic, until you were finally back at his place, as he wipes his hands with a wet wipe, leaning back against his couch. Evenings like these are common between you two, after all, Jungkook is a safe person to you- he won't ever make you uncomfortable, and if he does, you can just say so, and he'll adjust accordingly. It's something you really like about him- one of many things. "You can ask about it, you know?" He chuckles out of nowhere, and you look up at him. "You're curious. Taehyung had told me." He explains, and you can't help but groan dramatically, well aware what Taehyung had told him you were curious about.

"Taehyung can't ever really not spill secrets, can he?" You mumble angrily at yourself, putting down your chopsticks as you lean back, and Jungkook notices immediately how you seem to close off from him at the topic. He knows a lot more about you than you think- but still. He wants you to tell him yourself, too.

"Well, that's who he is." Jungkook shrugs because of that, trying to make you as comfortable as he can by treating the topic as something normal- which is exactly what it is to him, after all. "So?" He asks, and you squirm around a bit.

"So like.. you tie people up?" You ask, and he can't help but laugh. He get's this a lot after all, Taehyung having worried Jungkook might be some sort of sadist who hurts people in a dungeon of some sorts- something that happens, true, but always consensual, down the line. It's a pretty complicated topic, he admits that, and because of that, he can understand both the curiosity and judgement towards it.

It's not everyone's cup of tea, and that's fine, too.

"If they want me to, sure." He shrugs, smiling. "Some people like that. It gives them a feeling of comfort and security, and I like the aesthetic of it." Jungkook explains, picking up his glass of water, to take a sip, watching how you seem to think about it. "Not your thing?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"Like, what if you want to get out or something?" You ask, and Jungkook across from you seems nonchalant about it. After all, shibari and bondage are the most.. tame things he practices and enjoys.

"Then I'll let them out. Either untie them or cut the ropes, easy." He shrugs again, leaning back. "Saying No makes everything stop, after all." He easily mentions- and you grow silent at that.

You remember when you said no back in your last relationship. Sure, things stop- but the uncomfortable aftermath of it is all your fault, awkward silence and the weight of having ruined a perfectly fine experience hanging heavy on your mind for the rest of the day- sometimes even several days. Saying no is weird, it's awkward, especially when you're just being overly anxious about things that aren't even all that bad.

You've decided that sex just isn't for you, ever since then. You'll just.. do it yourself.

"A no is a no." Jungkook suddenly says, and when you look up, he looks awfully serious. "No matter what." He underlines his statement, and you shrug uncomfortably. He knows from Taehyung that your last relationship wasn't a good one- mental abuse and pressure put on you to fit you into a mold made for you by the guy you'd loved. He'd told you he was 'fixing' you, constantly belittled or ignored you, and even threatened to release intimate videos of you allegedly taken by him if you were to ever say something bad about him.

Jungkook had been worried, but Taehyung insisted that after helping you find a lawyer, it had been revealed that none of those videos even existed, because you rarely ever even had sex to begin with.

"Yeah maybe- but then it's awkward and weird." You shake your head as you explain your standpoint. "Like, I can't imagine doing stuff like that. Taehyung said you do a whole lot of other stuff too- and like, I don't judge, really!" You explain yourself, waving him off. "Sex, like, with another person is just not my thing. I don't like it." You shake your head, closing the empty cardboard food container in front of you.

"Feel free to correct me-" He starts his sentence carefully, not looking at you as to not pressure you with eye contact. After all, he knows how to behave around people, it's one of the most important skills as someone in his position. "-but it sounds more like something has made you dislike sex with someone else." He offers.

"Yeah maybe." You mumble. "Or maybe I just realized that I'm better off.. doing it myself." You say mostly to yourself. "I'm not good at this stuff. Having sex with someone else is awkward, and weird."

"Is that why you never let me close?" He asks, and you freeze.

Caught you.

It's true that you and Jungkook have undeniable.. chemistry. He's nice, kind, a little childish but in a good way- he plays around with you with such ease, makes it clear that he's seriously interested in you by not only flirting, but also actively trying to participate in your life. He offers to drive you to appointments, texts daily, meets up with you whenever he's got the time for it. He initiates physical touch whenever appropriate, praises you, and it's also pretty obvious on your side that all these things affect you. You like him, you really do-

but that side of him intimidates you too much to really involve yourself with him. Once you have.. or more so, try to have sex with him, your friendship will be ruined, and any potential for a romance with him shattered. But considering how he loves intimacy, there's no chance for a relationship anyways, right?

"…maybe." You mumble, not looking at him.

"What exactly scares you about that part?" He wonders. He's genuinely curious if he can do anything to help you be more comfortable with the idea of loving someone physically again. It's fine if you really just don't want this- he won't ever push you into anything, but considering your past experiences and clear interest in him, he wants to at least try. Not just to figure out what's making you this anxious about this aspect of a relationship, but more so, to figure out how he can make you feel comfortable with him.

He likes you, after all, he really does. And he wants to somehow make this work between you both, even if that means that he will have to adjust his sex-life.

"It doesn't scare me.." You try and deny as if to defend yourself, but he just leans back a little, relaxing in his posture.

"Sounds like it, though. And it's not stupid to be scared of sex if you've made bad experiences in the past." He offers. "Natural reaction. Nothing bad about it, really." He says further.

"Okay, yeah, I'm scared of it!" You wave your hands up in defeat. "Because I suck at it, I don't like stuff, it's weird-" You start, and he chuckles.

"What did you do?" He wonders. "Genuinely. I'm curious." He asks. You shrug. But you don't shut him out, and he eagerly takes that chance.

"What you do, you know. Like, normal stuff." You shrug. "But I don't know- it was uncomfortable, and hurt, and so we stopped back then and it got super awkward." You explain in shame. "He said I just can't take anything and that I'm too sensitive. So I guess I'll just do stuff myself and that's it." You reveal, making Jungkook hum in thought.

"Was it your first time?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"My first time was fine. Not like, great, but it was fine." You say, unsure as you reach for a glass of water on the table.

"So he was just shit in bed, got it." Jungkook nods to himself. "Is that why you seem so uncomfortable with yourself?" He asks, and you look up at him, confused. "You always adjust the way you sit, you cover up even when it's hot, you don't like pictures taken of you and you basically hide yourself whenever you can. Which is confusing, because you're honestly really pretty." He tells you, and you sigh. "No, really." He adds on. "There's nothing wrong with your body or your looks. It's pretty frustrating to me to see you so insecure and anxious about it when there's nothing to hide or be ashamed of." He tells you.

"You say that 'cause you wanna be like, the cool guy who shows the poor shy girl what sex is like." You huff, crossing your legs as you look at your hands.

"Not quite. I don't just want to fuck you." He chuckles. "But I wouldn't say no if you were to let me show you a thing or two." He laughs playfully.

"I'm not letting you tie me up." You threaten.

"Yet." He responds teasingly, and you turn a bit red at that, unable to not think about a scenario like that. Now that you think about it.. would it be that bad? You trust Jungkook, after all. In a way, you'd probably let him do that.

"You act like you could change my mind about your whole… BDSM thing in, like a week." You scoff, and he grins.

"Interesting that you know what the scene is called." He calls you out, and your eyes widen a bit as you realize you've been caught red handed. Because in reality, you have done some research into this whole stuff, just to kind of.. look around, so to say. "And a week seems.. a bit short, but sure." He shrugs, watching you.

"Wait, what?" You wonder, looking at him.

"Sure, let's start Monday, right after this weekend." He proposes. "One week, and if I don't find anything that's your taste, anything you like, I'll admit defeat." He tells you.

"One week?" You ask, and he nods, holding out his hand for you to take.

"One week." He repeats again, as you take his hand-

sealing the deal.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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dorims · 2 months

Text

last christmas (i gave you my heart).

gif creds @/fightingdragonswithwho

pairing. roman roy x reader

wc. 1.6k

genre. fluff

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise. for a change, maybe spending christmas away from his family would do him good. you can only hope he agrees.

tags. NOT beta-ed(?), english isn't my first language // established relationship (fiancee/married, i havent decided yet lol), brief mention of alcohol, allusion to roy family dynamics, roman and reader are the only characters in this one

a/n. idc that its march and the fact im not big on christmas either, this one really fun to write! hope you enjoy

“So,” You test the waters, lathering the bristles of your toothbrush with the bubblegum toothpaste in the process. In tune with the routine you had wordlessly established, you locked eyes with him through the mirror. Not before letting your eyes roam over his relaxed figure of course. Surprisingly intimate, you would describe the way he liked to watch you while you finished your nightly routine. He would look so painfully comfortable, maybe even serene, as he let his body rest against the doorframe as his eyes lidded with perpetual fatigue, took in the mundanity of watching you lather your face with creams and face wash.“I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, though it sounded more like a stifled laugh. “That's new, how's that going for you?"

“Funny.” The foam in your mouth was of no help at conveying the faux annoyance, balancing out the deadpan you sported with a dose of conveniently muffled speech. Not intimidating at all, it only caused his grin to grow wider. And contagious as always, you leaned over the sink to spit the toothpaste in an attempt to hide a smile of your own, though the thick layer of adoration in your eyes gave it away.

“I’m just saying,” he raised his hands in mock surrender, finally walking inside to lean against the marble counter right next to you. “I only wanna know how it feels to lose your, you know, thinking virginity after giving no signs of brain activity for how long? Like—“

“You can tell yourself how it feels when you lose it.”

“Oh you want to fuck my brain so bad—“

“I’ve been thinking,” You cut him off with an amused smile, taking him in once more. Big round eyes shone with mischief along a hint of sheepishness as he noticed you looking at him. Really looking at him under the vanity lights with messy hair from running his hands through the strands all day and finally wearing the matching pajamas set you had gotten for him in a pretty navy blue because wearing a matching set made you feel good and you wanted him to feel the same way. Always.

“You've been thinking…” he rolled his eyes as if to hold back another quip now that you had restarted the conversation. The pinkish hue you were so familiar with made a small appearance as you let your fingers brush over his, gently coaxing him to intertwine his hands with yours. Not that he needed much convincing, though.

“We should spend Christmas this year with my family.”

At the beginning of your relationship, you were sure he would’ve pulled his hand out of your grasp. You could see the way he had to swallow down the urge to do so from the pensive furrow of his brows while the side of his brain in charge of his critical thinking tried to convince him that your words weren’t an attack on his family. He was still working on it, the lousy therapy sessions here and there helped a little, but he still found himself opening his mouth to complain.

“I know what you’re gonna say but think about it, Romeo.” Thankfully, you took the steering wheel before he could start. “My family loves you and we haven’t spent Christmas with them in like, ever, actually.”

Which wasn’t his fault, and you made sure to tell him so, leaning closer until your knee touched his and giving him a quick peck on his lips before he could protest.

Spending every holiday under Logan Roy’s roof wasn’t necessarily a problem. It was nice to exist alongside the people that Roman loves, the people he grew up around. Watching him interact with his siblings could be endearing. So much so that sometimes you wished you could record their banter and laughter so he could listen back and for a moment picture that things between them were okay. But just like any other family gathering, the pot tended to be stirred until have a holly jolly Christmas sounded either like a call for help or the theme song from the Saw franchise.

“Every year we celebrate in a different place,” you toyed with the idea in front of his eyes like one would a cat’s toy, using your smile to build momentum to the grand reveal that at this point didn’t even sound grand to you. “last Christmas was Italy and this year we’re doing Greece.”

“Since when do you have a house in Greece?” He asked, toying with your fingers as his gaze locked itself on them. It was a good sign he was asking.

“We don’t,” the sound of your animated chuckle helped to loosen his shoulders. Though it didn’t dissipate his slight confusion, it always felt good to have you close like this. “It’s Kelly’s house— eh, her parents’ but sharing is caring or whatever…”

He let out a chuckle of his own. The sound made all sorts of warmth bloom in your chest, maybe even cute aggression if you felt like being dramatic.

“And after we can spend New Year's just the two of us wherever you want.” He shrugged in a silent response, still pensive, and you couldn’t help but coo at him as if to coax him out of his shell. “It’s gonna be so much fun, they’ve been asking about us and the kids adore you, they’ve been obsessed with Uncle Roro ever since Lizzie’s birthday.”

“As they should be, my lower back never recovered from being used as a human jungle gym.” He rolled his eyes at the memory yet the love was evident from behind the thinly veiled sarcasm. He was a very particular individual but so were most of your siblings-in-law. And sure, the first time he met your family hadn’t gone as he expected, both in a good way and in a bad way, but your mother still asked him to join him for a glass of whiskey whenever they crossed paths with a welcoming smile and your father always hugged him in greeting like he did all his children.

“You’re good with them,” You smiled against his lips as you leaned closer for a kiss, leaving a couple of pecks that eventually made him smile too. “you’ve always been good with kids.”

“Yeah whatever, stop kissing me my breath stinks.”

The way your brothers had instantly included him in their weird boys' night out, which was ruled by the obnoxiously corny motto ‘what happens in boys' night, stays in boy’s night’ that was used as a smoke screen for that one time they decided to go to the spa to never be taken seriously again once they swallowed their own stupidity, left you grinning for a week straight. And let's not start with the picture you had taken during a summer trip to Nice of all the daughters-in-law posing like they were celebrating their high school prom with Roman at the front of the line, it had been all laughter all throughout; the picture came out a little blurry.

It’s all you could think about sometimes when you watched him doing nothing interesting in particular with a lovesick intensity only rivaled by his. How well he fits in your life, with the quips and interjections that kept you company and next to you on your shared bed. With both your slippers sitting neatly side by side and with the unmeasurable love pooling at the bottom of his chest that he had finally allowed himself to unabashedly share after who knows how long.

“Can you pass me your headband? I need to wash my face.”

He insisted yours was better every time you told him he should buy one of his own. Even if he hadn’t tried any other than yours. You only let it pass because he looked cute with his hair pushed back. No other reason at all.

“So,” you cut yourself by giving him a peck on the lips as he got closer to steal some face wash. He had his own on his side of the bathroom but the bottle was pretty much full and yours still ran out quicker than when it was just you. “Greece or no Greece?”

“I got chills, they’re multiplying.” He joked right before rinsing the soap from his face, chuckling at your lack of amusement. “What? You prefer right now there’s nowhere to hide since you pushed my love aside?”

“I prefer you answer my question.”

The eyes of a kicked puppy on full display just put him out of his misery vibes, pleaded in silence as he dragged his feet across the floor until he was standing right in between your legs, his face hiding in the crook of your neck. He fit nicely against your body and instinctively you let your fingers brush along the strands of his hair. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go.”

He groaned in response, his voice muffled against your skin. “It’s not that, I want to, I just— I already RSVP or whatever bullshit to my Dad.”

No one RSVP’ed to Logan Roy. Especially not his children. It wasn’t necessary when the table was already set for all parties involved regardless of conflicting schedules

“That’s okay,” You kiss his hair, resting your cheek against his head and muffling your own voice. The vibrations made him hum. “I can talk to him.”

The disheveled strands tickled your skin as he shook his head. Now that his chin was resting on your chest you noticed how cartoonishly slow he was blinking, his lids heavy the weight of being awake for far too long.

“I’ll talk to him.” He pressed a kiss against the side of your jaw, feeling the unmistakable excitement of your grin, before hiding the yawn that followed. “Tomorrow, I promise.

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #roman roy fluff #roman roy #succession fan fiction #roman roy imagine #succession imagine

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irwinsblender · 5 months

Text

reassurance

A/N: hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic that i’m posting on here and the first ever oneshot that i’ve written! as it’s coming up to christmas I decided to write a festive themed oneshot as my first post! i hope you enjoy :)

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: reader has worries about meeting ashton’s family in person for the first time

warnings: a small amount of anxiety

word count: 1k

✩ ✩ ✩

Usually, you were always excited for the Christmas season. Celebrating with loved ones and giving out gifts had always been your favourite thing to do.

This year was slightly different.

Ashton had suggested spending Christmas in Australia with his family this year. After many video calls had gone well with them, he assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal for you. Of course, it wasn’t at first. You were over the moon about getting to go to his home country for the first time.

With your flight there coming up in a few days time, you’d both been packing your bags in preparation. Including any gifts that had been bought for his family.

When you decided on taking a break from packing, Ashton offered to pick up some food. Expecting you to be ready to eat once he returned. Instead, he found you sitting out on his back porch, staring out at the darkening sky above.

He considered leaving you to your thoughts, thinking that you’d been okay all day. Something inside him told him that he couldn’t leave you alone. Something was wrong.

The back door opening caught your attention, glancing back to see Ashton walking outside. You sighed, leaning your head against the back of the chair you were sat on. He joined you, sitting down, waiting until you were ready to talk.

You cuddled into Ashton’s side, slipping your arms around his torso with your head against his shoulder. His arm draped around your shoulders.

“Everything okay, baby?” Ashton asked.

You shrugged, not sure how to tell him that you were freaking out about meeting his family in person for the first time.

“Is it about Australia?” He tried to answer for you if you didn’t want to speak. You nodded. “You’re worried for the flight? I know you’re concerned about how long it’ll be.”

“No, it’s not that,” you closed your eyes, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. “I’m anxious… about meeting your family.”

“Oh,” he said. Not expecting you to say that. “You’ve been alright talking to them on our calls though, haven’t you?”

“This is different though, a lot different,” you sat up again, crossing your legs in front of you as you faced Ashton. “It’s not talking to them through a screen this time, I’ll be seeing your mum, your siblings, your grandparents, it’s a lot, Ash.”

With the way your voice almost broke at the end, Ashton couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen a hint of your anxiety to meet them sooner. You’d talked many times since agreeing, and none of those times had you expressed how worried you were becoming.

“You’re good at talking to people you haven’t met before,” Ashton tried to remind you. “You were fine talking with the guys the first time you met them.”

You looked away from Ashton after he said that, seeing the sun getting lower and lower. With how you were sat, Ashton moved to rest his hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth to comfort you.

“I’m not worried about talking to them,” you finally admitted. “I’m worried that they won’t like me.”

“Baby…” Ashton looked at you with a sad expression, the same way he always looked when you said things like that. “They like you already, they’ve seen the way you are on call, or when we’ve posted together.”

“How can you say that when they haven’t met me? Yes, we’ve talked, but over a video call.” You slouched in your seat, running one hand frustratedly through your hair. “I’m different in person than over the phone, you know that better than anyone. I’m quiet if someone calls me, but I can be the loudest person in the room when I hang out with our friends.”

“You’re my girlfriend, they’ll like you, baby.”

“just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean they’ll like me.” You replied stubbornly.

Ashton figured he’d have to take a different approach to how you were thinking. He moved to face you more, patting his lap for you to sit on, which you could never say no to. Now sat comfortably with your hands in his, he continued talking.

“They haven’t chosen whether to like you or not depending on if you’re quiet in one setting or loud in another,” he placed his hands on your waist, rubbing up and down softly. “They liked you even before they saw your face. They liked you as soon as they realised how happy you make me. All they’re worried about is that you care for me and love me.”

You nodded, listening to what he said to you. What he was saying was true in every sense. Your parents were the same with him. As long as you’re happy, and as long as he takes care of you, they couldn’t not like him.

“and you do care for me. Every day you care for me, and love me, I feel it every second we’re together.” He cupped your cheek in his palm as you leaned into his grip. “They like you because I’ve told them about the real you, the you that I fell in love with, the you that I want to be with forever.”

“What if I mess up or say something wrong as soon as we get there?”

“I’ll be there to jump in,” He reassured. “If you get too anxious, I’ll start talking. If you aren’t sure what to say, I’ll talk for you. Until you’re more comfortable with my family I’m more than happy to do whatever you need to feel okay.”

You took a breath as you nodded at him. Feeling slightly better about this whole situation. All you needed was a little reassurance from Ashton, and that’s exactly what you got.

“I love you, you know that right?” You chuckled softly.

“And I love you,” Ashton leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’ll talk to me next time you have any worries?”

“Yea, I will.” You promised, looping your arms around his neck as he hugged you closer to him.

For now, everything had turned out okay in the end. You’d admitted how you felt, Ashton understood and didn’t mind at all. He was going to suggest going inside when you spoke again.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me?” You asked.

“Don’t give me that! You two are practically best friends already.” Ashton laughed. “Now, come on, we should eat before the food’s completely cold.”

✩ ✩ ✩

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin x reader #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin angst #christmas fanfic #5sos x reader #ashton irwin imagines

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melancholicbutterflies · 11 months

Text

You Don’t Own Me

Summary: You’re tired of Elvis always telling you what you can and cannot do as his wife. You decide to pushback. He puts you in your place.

Warnings: underage, smut, dubious consent, bdsm themes (dd/lg), cursing, yandere!Elvis themes, breeding kink, 18+ (cannot stress this enough!)

Word Count: 4,046

It was a decision you would come to regret, but you were young and naive, and dreaming of a better life.

You met him at your high school. Elvis, up and coming rock ‘n roll sensation, had just returned from two years in the service and had successfully reformed his bad boy image in the eyes of parents everywhere. As such, he was permitted in venues since objected to (and the ones of teenage girls’ wet dreams).

Elvis the Pelvis was coming to your school, and students and teachers alike were all abuzz. Growing up in a very Christian family, you weren’t allowed to watch his performances, and knew only what you heard from friends of less strict upbringings, and the odd radio programming when you snuck into the teacher’s lounge.

Nothing could prepare you for what he looked like up close. Thick, dark hair that was somewhat cartoonish framed a devilishly handsome, tanned face with high cheekbones, sultry eyes, and a snarling smile that beckoned you. And he was tall, taller than any of the boys in class (although they were much younger, you had to concede). Still, he looked dapper in his suit, his well-loved acoustic guitar slung over his shoulder, devil hips cocked to one side.

He was a stunner, all right, and you were as good as gone.

You watched as he gave each and every person his undivided attention, all smiles and bashful head ducks. You wouldn’t have pegged him for humble, couldn’t imagine him being so with the amount of talent and charm and good looks he’d been endowed with, but he surpassed your every expectation. He was here to teach some scripture, and at some point he wove in some music, too. His voice was like a siren’s, no business singing such innocently devout lyrics.

At the end everyone clapped, and he went to signing autographs; the line took up the whole classroom and wrapped around the hallway as other students from classes that broke out joined in.

When it was your turn, he started, “who should I make it out to?” Pen poised, eyes tired as he lifted them to look at you with a waning smile, and he stopped. Nearly dropped the pad of paper then and there as he stared at you. You stared back, entranced, and found you were the first to break eye contact. “Well, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N, huh” he snapped out of his reverie, eyes alight with... something, as he licked his lips. “What a pretty name for a pretty gal,” he scribbled something on the pad of paper, barely legible, but finished with a heart. His next words you couldn’t predict in your most wondrous of fantasies:

“Say, you wouldn’t wanna grab a burger and shake with me one o’ these days, would ya? Or am I gettin’ ahead of myself?”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish, in shock. He laughed, hair flopping as his head tossed back. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You nodded vigorously, finally finding your words, albeit breathily. “Yes!”

“It’s a date,” he said lowly, gaze now stuck on your lips.

It was nothing short of sweet. You avoided your coworkers interested looks as you sat down with Elvis, who’d held your purse as you slid in the booth opposite. You were hungry and he vocalized he liked a girl who ate and set down a tip that was more than you made in a shift. Ice cream followed, a nice walk in the park, and he drove you home, politely not commenting on the sort of neighborhood you lived in. “I had a nice time,” he said in the low light of the fading sun, leaning in real close. “I did, too.” You said it as you looked down in your lap until he picked your chin up, forcing your gaze to his. You thought he looked sinful for someone so religious.

“Good, because I really wanna kiss you, Y/N.”

You stopped him with a hand at his clavicle. “I can’t.” Looking backward, he saw a figure by the window, felt your sudden nervousness. It was about more than just want, and thankfully he understood. “Sure, baby, I get it. You’re unspoiled, aren’t you?” His eyes implored you.

Reticently, you nodded, not fully understanding his meaning but knowing enough.

It should have concerned you how happy he looked at that.

Pretty soon he showed up everywhere. At the local diner, your ballet lessons, even one late night you were out walking your dog, Marnie. You could have sworn you saw a car at the end of the street, eyes watching under darkness. It was unnerving, it was exciting; you hadn’t experienced the weight of someone’s entire attention on you before now.

If you were less naive, you might have questioned why a grown man who had plenty else to do was expending so much effort getting to know you. It all became clear one day when he took you out to dinner, not just at any restaurant, but the fanciest one in town, followed by a romantic moon-lit walk at the beach and kneeled before you in the sand asking you to marry him.

You said yes, of course, and he looked like the happiest man alive as he wrapped you up in a breathtaking kiss. You two couldn’t wait to get to his hotel, and made love right then and there, the sounds of the ocean waves lapping in the distance.

He wanted to marry at once, and only a few days later you were at the courthouse exchanging vows. None of your friends could come (they were all in school), and only a few of his came, including his father, who hadn’t exactly looked favorably on you, but knew his son couldn’t be reasoned with once he set his mind to something. The colonel scowled in the corner, smoking his pipe up a storm. Your mom and dad wanted nothing to do with the whole affair and had all too happily washed their hands of you, signing paperwork to allow you to wed before your eighteenth birthday.

When it was time to say, ‘I do’, you did so enthusiastically, and a beautiful smile broke out on his handsome face. He pulled you in, thumbing your bridal veil, and kissed you like a man possessed. You were forever changed in that moment.

Mrs. Elvis Presley. It was like a dream come true.

And for a while, it was.

Elvis was attentive, doting, a true joy to be around. He took care of everything for you. You wanted for nothing. You were happy, happier than you ever thought possible in your short and, up till now, wretched life. Elvis changed everything for you, and you were eternally grateful.

But, like all dreams, there came a time when reality set in. The bubble burst. Oh, boy, did it ever.

It started with little things, at first.

Before he’d met you, you worked at a diner waiting tables. Now that you were married, he claimed there was no reason to keep waitressing. “Waste of time,” he remarked, “’sides, who’d wanna keep on their feet like that all day long when you don’t have’ta? Nuh-uh, didn’t think so. You’ll put in your notice tomorrah’.”

You thought to object, but he had a point. It was enjoyable enough to you, sure, passed the time all right, and gave you some pocket change to buy things for yourself that your parents never would. But now with Elvis occupying your days, and making just about a hundred times what you ever did after a full day’s work just sitting around, what was the point? Your coworkers, as nice as they were, were hardly reason enough.

So you promptly shut your mouth and smiled, giving him a big hug, and that was that.

Then it was your hair:

“Oh, doll,” he crooned one night after a heavy bout of lovemaking, running his meaty paw through your thick, wavy hair. “Wouldn’t you look good with straightened hair?”

You turned to him in mild surprise, still blissed out. “You never said a thing about my hair before. Don’t you like it?”

“Oh, ‘course I do, baby. I just thought you might like to keep up with the fashion is all. All them girls have their hair straight these days.”

“I guess that’s true.” You admitted. “And, say, maybe you ‘oughta darken it while you’re at it. Might be nice to have us match, you know.” You touched a hand to your hair, furrowing your brows as he leaned in to nuzzle your neck, applying light, sweet kisses there. It was awfully distracting, your hand falling limp on the bed as you gasped.

“Promise me you’ll think ‘bout it, at least...” He murmured low between kisses that went ever lower. “Oh, sure.”

“Good girl,” he growled, and he said something about “...have Jer make an appointment at that salon o’ Sandy’s.” And he proceeded to eat you out.

As time went on, that charming, subtle needling to shift your behaviors in his favor turned meaner:

Once before a press conference, he stopped you in the hallway, seizing your arm. “Hey, what’s wrong—” you winced as he twisted it around harshly in an effort to inspect your hand. “Quit it, E, that hurts.”

“What is this?” He looked at you angrily, disappointed, even.

“What is what?” You didn’t see anything other than your ring, which was where it should be, on your ring finger without anything out of the ordinary. When you saw where his eyes were directed, you realized he meant your nail polish.

“So it’s a little chipped. Who cares?”

“Who cares?” He seethed. “I care, and if you had any sense in ya you would too! Everything you do reflects on me, little girl, so when you look like a cheap hussy, you make me look bad. Make ‘em think I can’t take care of my baby. Get it?”

He wasn’t shouting, he wasn’t even raising his voice, but the venom dripping from his quiet wrath was so much worse.

Tears built at the corner of your eyes and you ducked your head, turning on your heel to run back toward the bedroom before he caught you by the arm again. You thought he’d apologize, say he overreacted. He didn’t. Instead he said: “Dry those eyes, girl, and put on a smile. I don’t care if it ain’t real, but I won’t have ya embarrassin’ me.”

It only snowballed from there.

Your whole wardrobe was thrown out, and a new one replaced to match with Elvis’. You didn’t finish school, didn’t do ballet anymore. You still cooked and baked now and then, but only on special occasions. Mary did all the real cooking in the house, and she already knew what Elvis liked and she did it well. Drinking, although technically not even legal, was forbidden (“a lady shouldn’t drink, you’ll get sloppy and less chivalrous men than myself’ll take advantage. Don’t want that, do ya?”)

Want to go to the movie with some friends? Think again. Boys weren’t allowed anywhere in your vicinity: he barely let Red, trusted bodyguard of the Memphis Mafia, guard you. He said he didn’t like his wandering eye one time. Personally, you thought he was delusional, but didn’t bother arguing since you hadn’t exactly taken a liking to the man.

Your friends were more acquaintances now, and when you saw them, you didn’t know what to say. They’d moved on, had new friends or new boyfriends. They felt you abandoned them (you did, although not intentionally). You never felt more alone in your life, and yet you were never alone; Elvis made sure of that, always having someone stay behind to watch you when he couldn’t.

Eventually it was the summer, your first summer as a married couple in fact, and you were invited to your cousin’s wedding. It was her high school sweetheart; they got the bug from you and wanted to get hitched as soon as they graduated high school. You were hellbent on making it to that wedding, come hell or high water. Elvis, as your husband, was of course also invited and expected as your plus one. They were renting out a small venue in Nashville, and the bride-to-be wanted you as her bridesmaid if not the maid-of-honor (a role you suspected in the back of your mind would have easily been yours pre-Elvis, but post-Elvis you was less reliable, and you couldn’t fault her for making that decision).

Elvis’ first reaction to it surprised you. After all, he’d hardly wanted you to leave his side and had grown increasingly controlling. So when he said, “Sure, hunny,” you almost questioned if you’d imagined it.

You were ecstatic. “Oh, thank you, Elvis. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Each word of gratitude was punctured by a kiss all over his face and any other bare patch of skin you could reach. He laughed that booming laugh of his and pulled you in to give you a proper one. “Well, if that’s the way you were gonna thank me I ‘oughta have more o’ your friends get married!”

This was Fall. Now that it was summertime, and the wedding weekend was upon you, he put his foot down.

“No,” he said simply, not even sparing you a glance as he casually strummed his acoustic guitar, legs spread apart on the couch. Your mouth nearly fell to the floor, and you felt a distinct ringing in your ears, your heartbeat speeding up. Blinking, you saw a few of his Mafia crew milling about, pretending they’d gone deaf and blind as your temper rose.

“What?” You screeched.

You did.

You almost forgot what it sounded like, your defiance. It was spectacular, and you thought you had never felt so angry in your life.

And you had a right to, damn it. You did everything this man said and more. You dyed your hair black, you straightened it to his liking, you always had a fresh paint of nails, you wore the dresses he picked out for you, even the ones with the ruffles that you couldn’t stand, and wanted to make you tear your eyes out of your sockets. You stopped working because he said so (although that was not entirely something worth fighting). But you left school, and you stopped talking to your friends for months until they stopped trying so hard and all you had was him and his damn Mafia. The girlfriends and wives didn’t even hardly talk to you. You were too young and there was very little in common.

You think you spewed all this out to him in your rage, not thinking it even made sense, but you wanted him to feel what he put you through, and being his wasn’t enough if you didn’t have a life outside of his wants and desires.

Finally, chest heaving, out of words to say in your tirade, you saw him through blurry, teary eyes. He’d frozen, shoulders hunched, body tensed for a fight. He looked around the room, but he needn’t — his Mafia was nowhere to be seen now. His eyes cut to you, dark and stormy, as he rose to his full height and strode towards your panting figure.

It was a sight to behold, your husband so angry. He’d been cross with you — lord knew he’d been annoyed on many an occasion — but enraged was new. It felt like the point of no return. Like he’d really hurt you this time, all those words about never laying a hand on a woman falling by the wayside.

“Now, Elvis, hold on now—”

“Long past time for that, baby. You been backsassin’ me and I won’t stand for it.”

Your eyes cut to the side, seeing a crack in the doorway.

“Don’t you even think about it, lil’ girl.” Elvis growled. You yelped as he took you in his arms, forcefully tugging you to the couch where he fell back against it, the momentum leaving you to fall across his lap in a rather unlady-like manner.

“Elvis, please, I’m sorry,” you began, attempting in vain to rise from the precarious position he had you in. His arm only tightened its hold around your waist much like a boa constrictor around its prey. “Should’a thought ‘a that before you went off like that. Now, sit tight and take your punishment.”

He hit you, then. He actually did it. But it wasn’t across your face or strangling your neck like you’d heard some women claiming of their husbands. He’d pulled up your dress so that it hung your belly and pulled down your lace underwear so that you were bare-bottomed and smacked your butt with his open palm, rings and all.

You gasped first, shocked that it had happened, and that it felt like it did; the contrast of his warm skin and the cold metal rings was a contrast you hadn’t known you needed. Then as one became two, and two became three, and four and five, and so on... you’d lost track, a strange feeling built up in your lower abdomen that felt familiar yet also foreign.

Were you... enjoying this absurd, perverted version of punishment? Surely you weren’t getting turned on by your husband beating you like an errant child?

And yet... you couldn’t deny the flare of hot want flowing through you, and you certainly couldn’t deny the wet stickiness that started collecting in your bared cunt. You had to bite your lip from making your desire audible; you were angry, aghast that your husband would go to such lengths for simply voicing your very legitimate frustrations to him.

When a slap fell slightly lower, just catching the bottom of your pussy lips, you couldn’t contain your excitement. A moan slipped past your lips.

Elvis froze, cock hardening in his pants some.

Your eyes widened, cursing yourself internally. The last thing you wanted was for the bastard to know some part of you was enjoying yourself. You wouldn’t look at him, burying your head in the side of his thigh, even as you felt that hot and searing gaze of his on you. You were humiliated, something you hadn’t thought possible after what he’d already done.

“Well, well,” he drawled, voice deeper, thick with lust. “Seems my baby likes this more than she should.”

“Please, Elvis, let me go,” you begged.” You’ve had your fun, being humiliated like this is punishment enough.”

He laughed, barrel chest vibrating against you. “Oh, hunny, I ain’t nearly done with you. In fact,” he circled your ass with his palm, your slick wetting his fingers now. “The fun’s just begun.”

“What—” You interjected, only to cry out loudly (or perhaps moan, it was some contrived version of the two), as he promptly pushed his fingers deep into your crevice, the warm, wet walls hugging his long digits with gusto.

He hissed, “oh, baby girl, that vice of yours just about does my head in. I need to be inside you now.” He started fumbling with his slacks, the belt coming undone in record time as he pulled his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He gave it a good tug, grimacing at the action. The tip was red and weeping, practically twitching with need.

“C’mere,” he said, positioning you where he wanted you like a doll. “On all fours, that’s right, just like that hunny.” Your knees met the carpeted floor, hair falling around you like a curtain as your head bent. You know he could go deep like this, but usually you had sex facing one another. He could piss you off to no end, but sex was always a sacred thing between you two. This felt cold, unfeeling. Fucking was what it was; he could care less to see you, he only wanted to possess you. You felt cheap, a plaything — and yet your cunt continued to thud with need.

“Jesus, you’re a pretty sight,” he rubbed his cock over your pussy lips, grab at your ass, take another smack of it and delighting in the jiggle of it. “Please, Elvis, just...” You pleaded, and he cut a look at you. “Don’t think you’re much in the position to be makin’ any sorta demands, doll.”

You hung your head, sighing, waiting for him to get his fill. “Oh, hell,” he said, “you’re lucky I can’t hardly wait anymore either.” And with that he pushed into you, causing a surprised yelp to leave your throat. Pulling on your hair, causing your back to arch towards him, he set a punishing, brutal pace, one that hard you seeing stars. In this position, he could hit your g-spot dead on, and hit it he did.

“Oh, godddd,” you groaned, scraping a hand back to hold onto his arm holding onto you. He huffed a laugh that turned strangled toward the end. “Not God, darlin’, but close.”

You would have snorted at the cheesy line if you weren’t full of his cock.

“Nothin’ to say?” He taunted. “That’s a real shame. To think you just needed some good dick to quiet down. Bet you ain’t never had one good as me.”

It wasn’t a statement, he expected an answer, but you were too far gone in the blissed-out feeling to recognize it.

Smacking your sore ass harshly, he repeated his words. “Ain’t you? Say it, or I swear to God I’ll stop right now and won’t let you come.”

“Yes, E, yes! You’re the best I’ve had,” you cried as the building sensation waned. “That ain’t my name, try again.”

“Daddy,” you whispered, feeling some shame about it. You always felt weird about calling him that even though your relationship with you father had never been close, but he demanded you refer to him in that way.

“Daddy what?”

“Daddy you’re the best I’ve ever had,” you admitted. He smiled; really, you would have said anything to have him keep fucking you the way he was.

“That’s right,” he pet your head, slipping his cock back into your tight hole as your eyes rolled back in your head. “You’re my good girl when you’re like this, almost forgotten you was bad earlier. Throwin’ a temper tantrum back there after all I done for you. Ungrateful. And for what? Some weddin’ you felt you needed to go to?” He tutted you, each word punctured by a punishing stab at your cervix; the pain intermingled with pleasure to create a heady concoction leaving you at a loss of words. Intelligible ones, anyhow.

“Ye-ah...” you moaned.

“What was that?” Elvis goaded, pinching your swinging titties between his hands.

“A-agree, I w-was bein’ bad.”

“Right. ‘Cause the only person you should be worryin’ about is me. Your husband.”

“Mhm.”

“Hmm,” he hummed deeply. “Need you just as much, more than ‘em. Can’t have you halfway ‘cross the state if somethin’ came up.”

He soothed your head, running his fingers through your dampening hair. “Need my yittle baby by my side, and she needs her daddy,” he cooed in the baby-talk language he loved so much.

You nodded, more so due to the buildup in your pelvic region. He groaned, feeling the tighening in his balls as your walls started fluttering around him.

“Shit, hunny, you got me ready to burst. You gon’ take it? Take all my lovin’?”

“Yes, Daddy! I’ll take it all.”

“Gonna fill you up,” he mumbled, hips moving erratically now. “Fill you up with my babies ‘till your big and swollen with my seed. Shi-itt—!”

You cried out at the sensation of his warmth shooting into you, triggering your orgasm.

“Agh!” He yelled, falling over you, hips slowly still moving as if to fuck more into you. You collapsed on the floor, and he was right behind you. You two laid on the floor in the fading light that spilled through the French windows.

Turning so that he was looking at you, he pulled your face to his in a deep, slow kiss. “You gonna let Daddy take care of you?”

You hesitated, knowing what he wanted of you. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll make the call tonight.”

He grinned, looking every bit the angel and devil as he hovered over you. “Good girl.”

#elvis fanfic #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis #elvis presley #oneshot #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley oneshot #elvis presley smut #smut #melancholicbutterflies #yandere!elvis #fanfiction #fanfics

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claymoresword · 1 year

Text

I Choose Her | Chp: 12

Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader

Summary: You are the daughter of known death eaters from one of the richest and oldest wizarding family. Are you prepared to abandon everything you know for Hermione Granger?

Pairing: Hermione x Reader

Wordcount: 4.5k

Warnings: smut, nsfw, cunnilingus, strap on use, g!p, dark themes, mention of death and murder

Note: hello! it's good to be back i missed writing this story and im so glad to have finally found the motivation to continue on with it lol

just a disclaimer, a fair portion of this is just smut so as usual if u need to skip it watch out for the asterisks :)

that's all, hope u enjoy!

taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich @xxsekhmet @arielj @poppyflower-22 @scarleigh1989 @smut-religiously777 @coralieesau @blackbirdv98

You’re awoken in the middle of the night by Hermione snuggling closer to you, searching for warmth. Instinctively you wrapped your arm around her before grabbing the covers draping it over the both of you.

You feel Hermione shiver under your hold and it was then you finally took notice of the drop in temperature.

Glancing at the fire pit in the corner you quickly received an explanation for the cold surrounding you.

“The fire's gone out.” You grumble, voice heavy from sleep.

Hermione merely lets out a groan against your chest before you feel her attempt to get out of your hold.

Your girlfriend climbs out of bed and you begin drifting off before you’re jolted awake again by the sound of Hermione rummaging through something.

Opening your eyes slightly, you’re met with the sight of your girlfriend sticking her hand in the pockets of your slacks and blazer that had been strewn on the floor.

Hermione soon notices your gaze that was fixed on her.

“Where’s your wand?” Your girlfriend asks, gesturing to your pants.

“Blazer, inner pocket.” In your half asleep state, you answered without hesitation.

You found it odd that she would ask to use your wand, considering how protective she was of her own.

Abandoning your desire to continue your slumber you finally sit up, silently observing as Hermione expertly uses a spell to re light the flame.

Once your girlfriend was satisfied that the fire was big enough, she quickly sat your wand back down on the ground before making her way back to join you in bed.

“Why’d you need my wand for? Where’s yours?” You asked as she climbs under the covers, wrapping an arm across your abdomen as her legs intertwined with yours.

Hermione hums at the feeling of your much needed body heat before responding.

“Harry has mine.” She states and your expression further contorts in confusion.

“Why?” You ask.

“I sort of broke his.. while we were at Godric’s Hollow.” Hermione admits timidly and you couldn’t help the laugh that falls out of your lips and your girlfriend scowls.

“Don’t laugh!” Hermione scolds, she tries to glare at you but it was so half hearted you could not find it in yourself to be intimidated by it.

You leaned down to place a tender kiss against her forehead, a silent apology for laughing at her expense.

“How on earth did you manage that?” You ask, carefully tracing circles against her side with your finger and you feel her relax once again in your arms.

“Well, I was holding onto his wand and when I threw a curse with my own, it rebounded.” Hermione explains and you nod in understanding.

“Ah, I see. Was he angry?” You ask and Hermione shrugs.

“He’s always angry at something lately, I hardly noticed.” Your girlfriend’s tone was soft and you regretted starting the conversation in the first place.

“Still cold?” You deliberately changed the subject.

“A bit.” Hermione says and you pull her in closer, a gesture she appreciated.

You tilted your head to plant another kiss on the top of Hermione’s head, focusing on the feeling of her shoulders rising and falling as she breathed, the faint scent of her shampoo, the way her skin felt against yours.

You find yourself committing the details to memory, relishing in the stillness.

With Hermione, time stops, and you are the only two people in existence. In her presence nothing was wrong. You felt at peace, and you never wanted it to end.

You reach down to intertwine your fingers with Hermione’s and she takes note of your silence, she looks up to catch your distant gaze as you were deep in thought.

Hermione lifts her head to place a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“What are you thinking about?” Hermione asks.

You meet her concerned gaze and you simply can’t fathom how anybody could possibly be this alluring. Hermione was delicate and yet so dangerously irresistible.

“I’m thinking about you.” You answer honestly.

“Oh.” Hermione says as her expression shifts to a bashful one and you decided to continue making her blush.

“I’m thinking about how you are truly the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.” You add and you could practically feel the heat emanating from Hermione’s face as she grew more shy under your heavy gaze.

“I was also thinking about how I can’t wait for all of this to be over, so we can go wherever we like and spend as much time as we want alone, just the two of us.” You add.

Hermione’s eyes now mirroring the heavy longing that’s reflected in yours. She leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss, you can feel her adoration and desire for you at all at once and it takes your breath away.

“That sounds perfect, y/n.” Your girlfriend says once she’s pulled away, she runs her fingers to your hair and you instinctively shut your eyes at the sensation.

You move your hand underneath the covers to rest on her waist, Hermione captures your lips into another kiss, this time its urgent and desperate, her tongue enters your mouth and you feel a familiar wave of arousal spread across your body.

You swiftly moved your other hand to her waist, expertly manoeuvring so that Hermione was on her back on the bed, her head resting on the pillow.

You break the kiss to turn your attention to her neck planting open mouthed kisses against it.

Slipping your hand underneath Hermione’s pullover, feeling her goose bumps form underneath your touch.

You place a quick peck against Hermione’s cheek before moving your head further down, lifting the garment to expose her taut stomach.

You intentionally run your tongue across Hermione’s navel before playfully biting at the skin directly above it and Hermione gasps, her hand reflexively finds the back of your head as you worked your way up her belly, carefully licking and nipping until eventually settling just below her chest.

“Take this off.” You order and Hermione doesn’t hesitate to lift her sweater over her head, tossing it to the side.

You began lowering your head but Hermione quickly halts your movements with a hand on your shoulder.

“Kiss me.” Your girlfriend says, already pulling you closer by the collar.

You happily oblige, crashing your lips, your mouth moves against her, gentle but firm, and Hermione let’s out a sigh in contentment.

You finally pull away only to trace kisses across her collar bone and down her chest, eventually settling on her nipples. Swiping your tongue across one of them, you hear Hermione let out another gasp.

You took that as a sign to carry on.

You finally take one of her nipples into your mouth, sucking and licking at it simultaneously and feeling it harden against your tongue as you do.

Hermione chokes out a moan at the sensation, her back arches off the bed making her pelvis rub up against your stomach, and you swiftly place a hand against her abdomen, pinning her to the bed.

Your girlfriend’s moans are more frequent now that you’ve turned your attention to her other nipple, moving your mouth against it in a way you know would leave Hermione wanting for more.

You deliberately ran your tongue down her body, returning your attention around her navel and then slightly lower, you pull down Hermione’s sweatpants a little but not all the way and she groans.

“I want it off, please.” Your girlfriend begs, tugging at the hem of her pants that you were holding firmly in place.

“So impatient.” You remark teasingly but soon moving your fingers to pull them off as she asked.

Hermione was now laying naked underneath you and you couldn’t help but ravage her with your eyes shamelessly.

You will never tire at the sight of her like this.

“What do you want, baby?” You ask, your mouth directly by her ear.

“My fingers?” You reached down to swipe a finger across her already drenched folds, before applying pressure on her clit with your palm.

Hermione doesn’t respond, instead she has her eyes closed as she whimpers helplessly, rolling her hips trying to gain more friction.

“Or my tongue?” You offer her the option before placing an open mouthed kiss against her jaw.

“Yes.. your tongue– please.” Hermione says and her eagerness causes a grin to form on your face.

You decide to not make her wait any longer as you quickly settled your head in between her legs, your hot breath against her core causes Hermione to squirm impatiently.

Your mouth finally makes contact with her weeping pussy, her slick coating your tongue as you ran it through her folds and Hermione let’s out an unrestrained moan, definitely loud enough to be heard outside the confines of your tent, but your girlfriend is too far gone to care.

Hermione grips a handful of your hair, trusting her hips at an attempt to match the rhythm of your tongue. She’s using your mouth mercilessly, working to her release at her own accord and it made you weak.

You shift your mouth slightly, prodding at her entrance with your tongue, and her gasp morphs into a whimper when you push it further in, feeling her walls contract as she accommodates the much welcomed intrusion.

You remove your tongue only to repeat the motion, your thumb rubbing at her sensitive nub, quickly urging her climax.

Before either of you realise it Hermione’s legs are trembling as she reaches her peak, it happens quickly and suddenly, directly in your mouth.

“Y/n..” Your name falls from her lips so gracefully and you have to stop yourself from asking her to utter it again.

“Yes sweetheart, are you okay?” You respond before moving up to rest your weight on your forearms, your face now hovering over hers.

Hermione’s look of pure desire as your eyes meet only further ignited your visceral ache for her, you wanted to spend the remainder of your days worshipping her.

Your girlfriend lifts her head up slightly to connect your lips, her tongue shamelessly moving against yours, tasting her own release.

You groaned as Hermione grips the back of your neck before leaning back until only the tip of your tongue in between her lips, she then moves her face forward once again and began sucking on it, the kiss was bold, it lacked Hermione’s usual apprehension and you wonder why she’s spent so long holding back, knowing what she is capable of.

In heated desperation, you grind your hips against Hermione and she lets out a moan at the sensation, your girlfriend releases your tongue as her mouth fell open.

As her eyes met yours she gives you a knowing look, one you could immediately read without the need of a verbal confirmation.

“Do you want to?” You ask expectantly and Hermione takes her bottom lip in between her teeth to keep her arousal at bay before nodding her head eagerly.

You quickly move off the bed stripping out of your underwear and pullover, you grab your wand of the floor, swiftly waving it over your groin.

You toss your wand back onto the ground before you began stroking the newly formed length in between your legs, eagerly climbing back into bed.

Hermione watches you intently as you settled on top of her, she wastes no time in wrapping her legs around your waist and you were nearly as impatient as her, as you immediately lined up the tip of your length to her entrance, thrusting forward, sheathing yourself inside your girlfriend’s wanting cunt.

You both gasp at the feeling, Hermione’s hands finding your back and you wince at the familiar sting as her fingernails dug into your skin, blurring the lines between pain and pleasure.

You pull out of her slightly to thrust your hips forward again as Hermione captures your lips with her own, resulting in her moaning directly into your mouth.

Soon finding a steady momentum, Hermione's whimpering and moaning as you moved your hips skilfully. Your cock was hitting deep inside her at just the right angle, making it impossible for her to do anything else beyond let you take her completely, at an unforgiving pace.

“Fuck‐ Hermione.” You groan as her walls were clenching against your length with every thrust, causing a bit of resistance.

Your girlfriend tries to respond but what comes out of her instead are incoherent sobs.

The pleasure coursing through her was overwhelming, her hand eventually falls from your back, laying helplessly on the bed and you move your own hand from her hip to place it over hers to intertwine your fingers.

Hermione holds your hand firmly as you continued rutting into her, working towards your own pleasure.

“Mine.” You grunt.

“You’re mine.” You repeat mid thrust and Hermione’s words continue to fail her, she merely guides your face closer to hers by your neck, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Once your lips left hers, you leaned forward to nip at her neck, sucking on her skin till you left a bruise and this works to ultimately tip her over the edge, Hermione comes undone underneath you and the sight of her head thrown back in pleasure, mouth agape, urges the coil in the pit of your stomach to tighten. Your name falling from her lips as her orgasm rips through her was enough to cause it to snap.

You reach your own climax soon after your girlfriend, your body flush against hers as you lacked the strength to hold yourself up any longer.

════════════════════════════════════════════

“Here you go.” Harry hands you the plate of breakfast after warming it over the fire.

“Thanks, mate.” You offer him a half smile, one he quickly reciprocated.

You walk over to the table joining Hermione and Ron. The way their heads snapped in your direction as soon as you stepped closer indicates that you had interrupted a private conversation.

“Is everything alright?” You ask, setting your food down on the table while taking a seat next to Hermione.

“Ofcourse.” Hermione says cordially before leaning in to give you a peck on the cheek, but you cheekily turn your head just in time, catching her lips with yours.

Hermione blushes and you relished at the feeling of Ron staring daggers into the side of your face.

You glance at your cup of coffee, lifting the mug up to your lips taking a sip, until finally allowing your eyes to land on Ron. The deep scowl on his face shows that he was about to snap any moment, and your predictions proved correct once he utters his next words.

“No, actually everything is not alright.” Ron snaps at you and Hermione sighs.

“Some of us need sleep you know, I’d appreciate it if you could keep it down next time.” Ron scowls and you watched as Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still keeping his head down.

“We will Ron, it won’t happen again.” Hermione reassures him and it was your turn to scowl, but your expression quickly turns into a smirk once a response dawns on you.

“Why were you even listening, Weasley?” You ask, and Ron stares at you like you’ve grown a second head.

Your smirk doesn’t falter and it only grows into a grin the longer he took to respond.

“I mean, you could’ve easily casted a silencing jinx, but you didn’t.” You taunt him further.

You feel Hermione grip your arm harshly.

“That’s enough.” Your girlfriend scolds but you fail to acknowledge her, not breaking the tense eye contact with Ron.

“Maybe you liked listening to us fuck. I bet you'd stay up all night to listen if you could.” You add and it works to get the desired reaction out of him.

Ron slams his fists against the table, standing up in his seat and you stand soon after, accepting the challenge.

“I don’t have to prove anything to a classist snob like you.” He counters.

“You think you’re so much better than us but you’re nothing more than a rich slag.” Ron says and for the first time his words actually graze you.

“Yeah? Is that all you got?” You challenge anyway.

“Stop it! Both of you, that’s enough!” Hermione interjects before tugging on your sleeve, forcing you to sit back down.

“You are behaving like a child.” Hermione’s says, her brows knitted together in anger as she glares at you and you couldn’t hold her gaze.

You bite the inside of your cheek, admittedly feeling slightly embarrassed with your conduct.

Going back to picking at your food, you watch in the corner of your eye as Ron took a seat, Harry clears his throat but it does nothing to break the tension in the air.

The four of you ate in uncomfortable silence before Hermione addresses Harry.

“Harry, I think we should go see Xenophilius Lovegood.” Your girlfriend blurts out.

“Sorry?” Harry asks, understandably confused.

Hermione reaches over your lap to grab her book, flipping over to a certain page before pushing it towards Harry.

“See this? This is letter Dumbledore wrote to Grindlewald. Look at the signature.” Hermione says, pointing to the page and a realisation washes over you and Harry at the same time.

“It’s the mark again. It keeps popping up. In Beetle the Bard, the graveyard in Godric’s Hollow.” She adds.

“It was there too.” Harry says, recalling his visions.

“Where?” You ask.

“Outside Gregorovitch’s wand shop.” Harry explains.

“What does it mean?” Ron asks stupidly and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Look, you’ve got no idea where the next horcrux is and neither do I.” Your girlfriend says, referring to Harry.

“But this means something. I’m sure of it.” She adds gesturing to the symbol in the book.

════════════════════════════════════════════

The four of you were sat in Mr Lovegood’s living room. What immediately occurred to you was how Luna didn’t make her way to greet any of you. There was something wrong but you could not say exactly what, still the feeling gnaws at you incessantly for the entirety of the conversation.

“How can I help you Mr Potter?” Xenophilius asks.

“Well, actually it’s about something you were wearing around your neck at the wedding. It was a symbol.” Harry says.

“You mean this?” Mr Lovegood retrieves the pendant from under his clothes, holding it up.

“Yes, that exactly.” Harry says, reaching up to touch it.

“What we were wondering was.. well what is it?” Harry asks.

“This is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows ofcourse.” Mr Lovegood states like it is the most obvious thing in the world and your brows furrow in confusion, you glance at Hermione to see a similiar expression plastered across her face.

“The what?” The four of you ask in unison.

“Well, I assume you’re all familiar with the tale of The Three Brothers.” The man states.

You Hermione and Ron nod, but Harry was quick to react oppositely.

“No.” He says.

“Well, I have it here.” Hermione says, flipping through her book before beginning to read the story aloud. It is one you’ve heard multiple times in your childhood but you assumed it to be an old legend, certainly nothing credible enough to have a symbol made after it.

Hermione finishes reading the tale and none of you grew any less confused.

“I’m sorry sir but I still don’t quite understand.” Harry admits for all four of you.

Xenophilius abruptly stands up from his seat, rummaging through his things in the corner but before you could question it he returns with a pecil and a piece of paper, he sits down in the middle so the parchment was visible to all of you.

He began drawing a straight line down the middle of the page.

“The elder wand.” He states.

He resumes, drawing an oval like shape over the wand.

“The resurrection stone.”

He then draws a triangle around the two objects, encapsulating it.

“The cloak of invincibility.” He finally state and your eyebrows raised in shock, you don’t understand how you went your entire life knowing nothing of this.

“Together they make the Deathly Hallows. Together they make one master of death.” Xenophilius states and you couldn’t help the cold chill that runs through you.

“That mark was on the grave in Godric’s Hollow.” Hermione says.

“Mr Lovegood does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?” Your girlfriend asks and Xenophilius’ shift in demeanour was sudden, truthfully it was unsettling.

“Ignotus and his brothers Cadmus and Antioch were thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story.” He explains, walking past all four of you, avoiding all eye contact and you follow after him, however now remaining at a distance.

He scrambles with the tea kettle, with anything he can find, desperately trying to make himself look busy.

“Ah, but your tea’s gone cold. I’ll be right back.” Mr Lovegood says, quickly disappearing from the room.

You suddenly felt like you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Let’s get out of here. I’m not drinking anymore of that stuff hot or cold.” You say and Ron nods, agreeing with you.

Your girlfriend was first to make her way down the stairs and the three of you followed suit, once you got to the bottom of it you spot Mr Lovegood by the window staring out into his yard, aimlessly, as he muttered to himself.

The gnawing feeling returns, you know something is really wrong here.

“Thank you, Sir.” Hermione bravely speaks first and he visibly flinches at the sound of her voice.

He turns to look at the four of you with a scattered expression, almost like he had entirely forgotten you were in his home in the first place.

“You forgot the water.” Ron says.

“What?” Mr Lovegood asks.

“For the tea.” You clarify for Ron.

He turns his attention to you, and his hollowed expression shifts into an amused one and you wince.

“Yes, ofcourse, how silly of me.” He says through a fit of giggles.

“It’s alright, Sir. We really should be going.” Harry tries.

“No! You can’t!” Mr Lovegood rushes over to the front door, slamming it shut before barring it with his own body.

You instinctively reach out to grab Hermione’s hand, and she immediately holds onto you tightly.

“Sir?” Harry asks, stepping closer to the man.

In this moment, you didn’t know what to think but you knew what you felt.

You feel it in your arm, as the dark mark begins pulsing uncontrollably for the first time in weeks.

“Hermione, we need to apparate. Now.” You whisper to your girlfriend but she’s not listening.

“You're my only hope.” Xenophilius says, his voice crippled with sadness, with fear.

“They were angry you see. So they took her.. They took my Luna.”

“But it’s really you they want.” Mr Lovegood adds as he traces Harry’s scar with his thumb and your other hand moves to grip Hermione’s arm holding her close.

“Who took her sir?” Harry asks boldly, foolishly.

“Hermione..” You say, trying to get her attention again but it was too late.

Xenophilius speaks the Dark Lord’s name and before any of you can comprehend, the house was shaking uncontrollably as a variety of curses was thrown at you, but your only priority was to protect Hermione.

You ignore the nearly unbearable pain in your arm, crawling towards her, you finally grabbed hold of her again and make a move to apparate but she stops you.

“Wait! Wait for them!” She shouts over the loud crashing as a spell breaks one of the windows next to you.

You almost disobey her request but Harry and Ron get to you just in time, they place their hands over yours and the four of you apparate out of Mr Lovegood’s home, or what’s left of it atleast.

“Treacherous little bleeder. Is there no one we can trust?” Ron says once you’ve arrived back at the forest of dean.

“They kidnapped her because he supported me. He was just desperate.” Harry defends.

You glance over at Hermione and immediately pulled her into an embrace which she reciprocated.

“Are you alright?” You ask, holding her face in your hands.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Hermione assures you but her voice was still trembling from the shock of what just happened.

As it appears, the nightmare was only beginning as you catch a glimpse of a face you really did not want to see, especially not here, not with Hermione.

Scabior and his band of snatchers, standing only a few feet away from the four of you.

You didn’t have a chance to apparate again, your only choice in this moment was to run.

In the midst of it you get separated from Hermione, although you can see her in a distance, fighting the men off the best she could before a spell is thrown in her way which she could just barely deflect.

They have her.

You lose your balance, entirely focused on your girlfriend, you forget how to run with your own two feet.

Now they have you as well.

Greyback has your arms in a death grip. The more you fought to get out of its hold the more it hurt.

You catch a glimpse of Harry next to you and noticed his swollen face.

You were certain that was Hermione’s doing so he remains unrecognisable.

She is brilliant for thinking on her feet but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep the four of you safe.

“What happened to you ugly?” Scabior asks but Harry remains silent.

“Name?” He tries again.

“Dudley. Vernon Dudley.” Harry answers almost a beat too quick.

“Check it.” He orders and the other snatcher began looking through his log book.

Scabior takes a step closer to Hermione and you begin to feel an intolerable pounding in your head.

“And you lovely, what do they call you?” He asks her, reaching out to touch her hair.

“Penelope Clearwater. Halfblood.” Hermione answers and Scabior doesn’t care enough to listen, instead his face inches closer to hers, much too close, and you watched as your girlfriend winces.

You are overcome with fury and you react quicker than you can think.

“Don’t touch her!” You yell and Scabior snapped his head in your direction.

His face contorts into something else, as if trying to understand where he recognised you from.

You catch the exact moment the realisation graces him and your blood runs cold.

A knowing smirk on his face as he stares at you, before shifting his gaze fleetingly towards Hermione and back to you once more.

“Let go of her.” Scabior says and Greyback does as he’s told immediately releasing you from his grip.

Scabior steps forward, fixing your coat, before running his hands roughly across your shoulders to dust them off.

“Change of plans. We’re not taking this lot to the Ministry.” He says.

#hermione granger imagine #slytherin au #hermione x reader #hermione granger #harry potter #harry x hermione #ron x hermione #ron x reader #hermione granger x reader

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sserajeans · 8 months

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you are in love | 44. making the bed (written)

note: is my olivia rodrigo obsession showing..

timing was definitely on hanni’s side as the moment she stepped on minji’s porch, the taller walked out of her front door with a white jacket over her pajamas.

“are you kidding me minji…”

“what? completes the doc kim look i think.”

hanni shook her head laughing before taking a seat on the front steps of the house. minji shrugged and followed, leaving a small space in between the two.

“so what’s with the emergency meeting?”

hanni hummed, her gaze fixed on the empty road in front of them.

“how do you know you like someone?”

minji smirked hearing the line. whether she was proud hanni was getting somewhere, or was excited she’d get to talk about her ultimate rizzler skills, she liked where the conversation was going.

“ohhh~ we’re getting into this huh?”

“hey i’m asking a serious question here, didn’t you want to help?”

minji laughed at the shorter, shifting herself sideways to lean on the handrails of the steps and to face her friend.

“i don’t know.”

“…are you fucking serious?”

“hehe no i’m kidding! i figured out i was at least interested in wonyoung when we were partnered up for mrs. choi’s media literacy project. we had to spend a lot of time together and i don’t know… i got to know her better and i found myself wanting to spend more time with her.”

“is that it?”

“well… i knew it was something else when i started messing up my drills if she was watching…”

“WHAT?”

“HEAR ME OUT-“

“this is down-bad behavior, kim!”

“and you walking in the rain to cook breakfast isn’t?”

hanni’s smile slowly dropped into a more blank face, but her eyes were clear and full of thought. she stayed silent for a couple more seconds before minji started snapping her fingers in front of her face.

“bro. seriously.”

“sorry.”

“don’t worry. but anyways, yeah that’s how liking someone feels, other than the physical side effects like the butterflies and crap. i doubt you’ve never felt it before… you probably just didn’t identify it as such.”

hanni nodded slightly, still choosing to bask in the combination of the silence and the cool wind, a reminder of the christmas season that was beginning. the village, or well, the town in general was a sight during the holidays. lights and decor everywhere, snow sculptures on the frontyards, a couple of christmas themed food trucks at the park. during the season of late november to early january was always the happiest and prettiest the small city was.

“an idiot can figure it out faster than you, you know?”

the vietnamese-australian flinched at the sudden voice, having completely forgotten she was at her best friend’s house after sitting on the porch, completely lost in thought.

“what?”

minji let out a deep sigh (something she’s been doing ever since she decided to get herself invested in hanni and y/n’s business) and shook her head.

“the pieces are all laid out in front of you. what’s taking you so long to put them together?”

hanni looked down at her clasped hands, fiddling with her fingers and cracking every joint with deep inhales and exhales every time.

“i’m scared, okay?”

“i mean i got it the first time, you know. you weren’t very sure about everything. but like now you literally….“

hanni took another deep inhale and exhale before deciding to continue.

“y/n’s the closest friend i have. the person i value the most. one i hold at utmost respect and regard. i could probably even say i care more for her than my own damn family.”

“well okay. wasn’t expecting a speech! but if that’s the case then why aren’t you-“

“that means i have everything to lose if i mess things up.”

the shorter girl finally looked in minji's direction, her eyes, though not watery, were dark and heavy almost. her expression a mix: frustration, tiredness, disappointment.

“pham, this is y/n we’re talking about.”

“i’m very well aware.”

“so?”

“every direction i look… if i dug into this whole emotions thing deeper, every direction i look would end up with me losing her. if i figure out i don’t like her and tell her straight up, i lose her. if i figure out i do and i mess things up because i have no idea what the hell i’m doing, i lose her.”

minji chuckled, very softly so as to not anger her friend in front of her.

“those are all uncertain endings, pham. how are you so sure of it when you haven’t crossed the bridge yet?”

she gave no response.

“the one thing you think you’re avoiding is bound to happen for sure with the way you’re going about this.”

still silent.

“this isn’t just any friend, right? you said it yourself. this is lee y/n we’re talking about, right?”

hanni nodded, following along.

“is she not worth the risk? is your friendship with her not worth exploring feelings you’re so scared to look into?”

hanni stared silently at her hands in front of her, slow and heavy breathing the only sound that could be heard from her.

“you know the answer already pham. you know what to say. i think i do too. and if anything encourages you to actually say it, it’s that you’re starting to lose her already.”

hanni let the words sink in, closing her eyes and letting out another sigh. though her words were stern, minji’s tone never lost its light and comfort. as much as she wanted things to be better for y/n, she’s hanni’s best friend too.

the two exchanged a couple more words on the subject, hanni not forgetting to thank minji and whoever philosopher possessed her that night. things are a lot clearer now.

she made the bed, now she must lay in it.

masterlist. next.

taglist: @yyeonmis @lostamoeba @jisooftme @yoontoonwhs @awkwardtoafault @lcv3lies @limbforalimb @kaypanaq @manooffline @kimsgayness @justme-idle @mightymyo @sewiouslyz @txtbrainrot @li0ilthecxnt @captivq @paranoxic @sofakingwoso @pandafuriosa60 @haerinkisser @lesleepyyy @haechansbbg @rosiehrs @jiwoneiric @blue4hour @bzeus28

#newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans smau #newjeans fanfic #hanni pham x reader #hanni x reader #hanni imagines #hanni smau #kim minji #danielle marsh #mo jihye #kang haerin #lee hyein #Spotify

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morganas-pendragons · 1 year

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Haven’t We Given Enough? | Joel Miller

Okay, so hear me out. I've known about this game for years but have been exclusively an Xbox kid since like 2004 so I've never had the opportunity to play it. I heard Pedro was cast as Joel and I was shocked that I actually knew the actors playing Joel and Ellie. Saw the trailer, watched the entire first game gameplay, and now I'm here.

Whoops.

I will say this though: I'm really bothered that I could find like nothing but hardcore smut in the tag for this character. I aim to change that. Enjoy some hurt/comfort!

@ironmandeficiency

This is meant for a fem!reader. There are themes of past pregnancy in this that may come back into play later (reader had and lost a child) so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, read at your own risk.

***

It’s remarkable how similar he is to the very thing you’ve thought him to be since you met. While Ellie is like a summer fire burning across empty, barren fields, Joel is the vengeful, unrelenting snow storm that threatens to pull you apart.

He becomes increasingly good at it the longer you know him. Those dexterous, strong fingers wrap around the rungs of your ribs and pull them apart until the fragile beating thing you call a heart is exposed.

That fragile beating thing has simply endured too much. It’s endured heartbreak, and loss, and pain, and it’s somehow still keeping you alive despite having lived through the beginning of the Outbreak and twenty years into it.

Sheer determination has kept you alive. Not love, not your little sister, just a culmination of all the things you’ve endured that have turned into anger.

It’s not like his anger though. Yours is calm. Methodical. Purposeful.

Joel Miller’s anger is exactly like him: Vengeful, unrelenting, terrifying. It’s only once you meet that your anger begins to temper down into something he has never quite known. Not in this life anyway.

Gentless. Compassion.

Peace.

And well, Joel Miller finds that the longer he knows you, the more he aches to learn what that really means.

It’s weird. You know it’s a weird habit, but you’ve been doing it since you were a little girl and have a difficult time not falling back into old habits. People have often accused you of being aloof. Bashful.

At the very least, people-watching is resourceful and educational. It really teaches you about what to expect from the ones you don’t quite know yet.

People watching was how you found yourself drawn to Joel Miller.

It started whenever Marlene sent Tess and Joel to smuggle the two of you out of the city. You were Ellie’s older sister - born before the Outbreak, almost fifteen years her senior - and her solely remaining blood family since your parents deaths. Your mother’s dying wish had been whispered into your ear with her final breath: Look after your sister.

So you did.

“I will be damned if you even think I’m not going to follow that girl,” You snarled, jabbing your thumb into Marlene’s chest. “That’s my sister. My blood. My promise. You will not take that away from me.”

The Boston QZ was, as to be expected, a literal hell. The only way that you and Ellie were going to survive was if you joined the ranks of the Fireflies. You did. You did, and it ruined you. Any remaining semblance of innocence that you had died years before.

You didn’t want to think about that. It was past, it was gone, just like that part of who you’d been at that point.

All gone. Just like the rest of the world.

Marlene knew better then to argue with a Williams. Where you lacked, Ellie made up for it. It was comical how a fourteen year old girl, in certain situations, had more diplomacy then you did.

She was the one who talked when Joel came into the room for the first time.

“Be careful with that one,” You warned afterward. Marlene snorted as both Williams sisters simultaneously crossed their arms over their chests and leaned into the counter as Joel left the room to confer with his partner. “He’s a storm.”

Ellie knew of your comparisons. She knew of your uncanny ability to read people, to see people, and she’d never doubted you. Not once.

“Funny. First time you told me this, you said I was a fire. If he’s a storm...” She nudged her head uncertainly in the direction Joel had left in. “Then what kind of storm is he?”

Your eyes flutter closed. You’d been able to gauge a lot just from those few minutes of conversation. “Winter,” You reply quietly. “One of those blizzards we got caught in the winter you turned four. Mom and Dad had us hunker down. We didn’t leave the bank we were in for well over a week. Stayed in the safe.” You pause. “If we had even threatened to step into that storm, we would’ve been obliterated. That’s the kind of storm Joel is. Unyielding, vengeful.”

“Your comparisons never fail to amaze me, kid,” Marlene commented. “You’re right on the nose. Watch out for Joel Miller.”

He’s nothing if not ruthless.

***

For the first couple of months you’re forced to travel across the country with Joel, you hate him. You hate how dismissive he is of you and you hate how he continues to act like dragging Ellie to the Fireflies who will then make the cure is the worst inconvenience he can possibly experience.

You hate him. You hate him so much because he seems to be able to see right through you. No one has done that since-

Not since him.

Ellie knows who he is. Joel doesn’t. He doesn’t ask why you sometimes wake up with a cry bubbling in the back of your throat, or why your hands always subconsciously drift toward your ring finger when there’s nothing there.

He also doesn’t ask why your hand is almost always lingering on your stomach when he sees you through the cracks in the doors of the rooms you and Ellie sleep in.

He doesn’t ask.

So you don’t tell.

***

You remember the first time he ever saved you from a clicker on your way through Pittsburgh with Joel, Henry, Ellie and Sam. It’s another one of those instances where you can recall things most other people can't: the details people cannot be bothered to remember.

The smell of the tunnel. Damp. Dark. The smell of infected wafting through your nose, a familiar smell now just like the burnt bodies you so often found permeating the air in the QZ.

The click of the shotgun. The desperate shout of Joel’s voice as he tackled that creature to the ground before firing once, twice, three times into its face while you struggled to regain your breath.

The way that, afterward, he’d tossed the gun into Ellie’s arms to take your own into his hands and survey your skin for bites.

“You good, darlin’?” He’d asked, and your brain short-circuited because this was not the same man who'd spent the last several weeks showing you and your sister nothing but utter disdain and contempt.

“Yeah, yeah... I’m good.” You murmur. “Thanks Joel.”

The most memorable part of that particular day - aside from the sunlight and the way it reflected just right against the grey and white of Joel’s hair and his eyes - was the way you had learned that, underneath the rough exterior, he had the same bleeding heart you did.

***

Jackson is nice. It’s clearly the beginnings of what’s meant to become a larger, thriving civilization somewhere down the line, but it’s the first place you’ve been in the last twenty years that feels calm.

Joel’s entire demeanor changes upon arrival, and it’s not until the gates open that you realize why: The man who steps through - and is clearly one of the few in charge - bears a remarkable resemblance to him.

You and Ellie later find out that it’s Tommy. His younger brother.

The details of that newly made memory are astonishingly clear: The curve of Joel’s smile, the feeling of the sunlight, the laughter that echoes as the three of you are led inside.

For once in the last two decades, you have finally met someone who doesn’t have malicious intent.

“So who’s the older girl, Joel?”

“Kid’s sister,” Joel replied curtly. “That’s it.”

Tommy clucked his tongue and shook his head as they entered the water plant. “I know you better then that,” He argued. “Way you look at her? Not just her sister. You’ll figure it out sooner than later even though that thick skull of yours.”

The plant is attacked by the bandits who have been trying to infiltrate the compound for the last couple of months. Your illusion of peace is shattered as you again are forced to take, take, take, until there’s nothing left but bodies to deal with.

That’s when you find out Ellie is gone. You find out Ellie is gone and for the first time in quite a while, you are properly afraid.

And fear fuels you. Just like anger.

Joel knows anger, but he doesn’t know your anger until he has the gall to tell your little sister she doesn’t know what loss is. It’s unfortunate you manage to hear the entire conversation through the bedroom door while staking out the house to ensure you’re in the clear.

She’d run away from Jackson. Why, you don’t know, but you had been more panic then anything else because it was the first time Ellie had ever attempted to do something like that.

You really just wanted to know her reasoning.

“What do you want from me?!” Joel snaps, harsh and sharp, as he storms deeper into the room.

“Admit that you wanted to get rid of me the whole time! Admit that my sister has been nothing but an inconvenience to you and you’ve felt burdened by us both!”

You can’t see Joel’s face. You can’t see his face, but you see the way his body reacts to that statement. He’s trying really hard to keep himself under control. It’s admirable.

They argue for what feels like years. Ellie calls him out, again and again, only to be stonewalled by Joel’s incessant need to keep everyone at arms length and provide as little information about himself and his feelings as possible.

What causes you to storm into the room is the statement that makes the whole world grind to a stop.

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel... but I have lost people too.”

“You have no idea what loss is.”

Ellie’s entire aspect shifts into something akin to both horror and shock as you storm into the room, fury radiating from your features, to only then whip Joel Miller around and slap him in the face.

Your handprint burns against his cheek as he stares at you slack jawed, raising his own hand to cradle him jaw. Joel’s seen you do a lot of things. He’s seen you kill, and he’s seen you comfort, but he’s never bore witness to the heart of the storm itself.

He immediately regrets provoking the argument now.

“El,” You say quietly, fury dripping from your words as you grip his shirt with tight fingers. “Go downstairs and join Tommy. Now.”

Ellie doesn’t argue. She never has because she knows better. With a curt nod, your little sister evacuates the room like a flood has just fallen upon it to leave you - the gentle storm versus the vengeful one - alone with Joel.

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t.” You snarl. “Don’t you dare. You don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling her she doesn’t know what loss is, you sanctimonious egotistical-” Your hands pound against his chest, once, twice, three times. Every hit makes you just a little more tired. “We all know what loss is, Joel! You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the funerals!”

Funerals.

Huh.

Snatching your hands with his own, Joel’s response is quiet and extremely unnerving as he murmurs, “We didn’t have funerals. We just burned them.”

You don’t have time to reply. There’s people in the house, and you’re left to slip back into your mask as you remove your gun from its holster and flick the safety off.

You don’t spare Joel a second glance.

***

It’s another dead end. Another dead end full of questions and no answers that leave you asking more that no one seems to be able to give you. There might be nothing here but bodies and unanswered questions, but it does give you one thing that makes it memorable.

The way that Ellie has smiled more now than she has since your parents and Riley died. You don’t try to intervene, to make yourself apart of what are undoubtedly her memories to carry, so you watch.

It’s enough.

It’s pretty straight forward into the University - nothing, nothing, and more nothing - until you’re ambushed by another group that has you and Joel fighting hand to hand for the first time in a while.

You’ve only just managed to incapacitate yours when a resounding crash sounds from outside, and you just barely see the telltale salt-and-pepper hair go careening over the edge of the balcony.

Seeing Joel like that.. That’s the second time you’ve known the same fear in such a short amount of time: Fear of loss.

There’s me, the fool with the slow heart who dared to think I could love someone else again.

***

The storms feels like it’s dwindling now. Like it’s simply the kind you get in the early hours of the morning in December, where the clouds are thick and gray and cover the entire sky as snow slowly falls to stick upon the chilled earth.

Joel Miller has been this unyielding, fierce storm that threatens to tear everything apart from the moment you met him in Boston. He’s cold. Calculating. Sharp. You’ve seen what he’s capable of - and reacted quite violently the first time, you hadn’t realized the human body held that much blood - and have experienced the ramifications of what such things can do.

The nightmares, the abrasiveness, the need to push everyone away because it’s simply easier than allowing yourself to love something that death can touch.

You’ve always known Joel to be a storm, but since Ellie - and you, though you just don’t know it yet - have wormed into his heart, the storm has dwindled. It’s gentler. Softer. More willing to listen to reason, to fight for something other then himself.

The rough exterior that turns so many people away is slowly giving to show who’s under the surface.

You were almost positive that your heart was going to give out when you watched Joel fall from Ellie’s horse. You’d barely been able to do anything about the wound he’d obtained from the rebar at the university, using what meager means of medical supplies you had in your saddlebags to pack and dress it so the bleeding stopped.

Ellie had watched you from the top of Callus as you carried him to the horse and slowly eased him into her arms.

“Do you think he’s gonna make it?” She asked you later, long after you’d lost sight of the school over your shoulder.

“I hope so, El.” You reply quietly. “I don’t know what we’ll do if he doesn’t.” It’s half a truth with a confession hidden in between of your true feelings toward the matter. You’d spent so much time watching Joel - learning about the inner workings of a man your heart aches to know, to heal, to love - that you weren’t sure what you’d do if his steady, sure presence wasn’t around anymore.

The three of you have made your home inside a garage in an abandoned neighborhood when the snowfall hits. Ellie volunteers to take care of the horses while you situate yourself and Joel into a crude attempt of a sleeping situation inside, pushing two of the remaining mattresses together and scrounging up blankets for you to shield yourselves from the cold.

You don’t like how pale he is. His wound isn’t infected, which is good, but his heartbeat is too weak and you can’t help yourself from feeling somewhat responsible.

“Joel Miller,” You whisper, long after Ellie is gone and it’s just the sound of uneven breathing and the pounding of your heart from where you lay curled around him on the pair of mattresses. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself into my blood stream. You’re not allowed to give up on me. On us. Do you understand?”

Joel doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t answer. You don’t expect him to, but part of you wishes he’d open those dark brown eyes and gaze up at you with all the longing and desperation you’ve felt towards him since... since.

The bitter cold that settles in your bones is an alarming reminder that you need to curl around Joel to preserve body heat. Last thing you need is him dying of hyperthermia.

“Don’t leave us,” You whisper again, curling your fingers into his hair as you tuck your body around his own and press your chin against the top of his head. “Don’t leave us.”

We can’t take another funeral.

***

The first time Joel wakes up is the day before Ellie leaves for another hunting trip. She’s scrounged up a meager amount of supplies through the houses in the neighborhood, just enough for you to get by, but you can’t help but feel the weight of the guilt settling in your stomach when you hear Ellie’s stomach growl halfway through the night.

It’s not like you’re sleeping anyway.

Joel’s sudden state of awareness is brought upon by the fingers raking through his hair and the warmth that touches his skin from the body wrapped around him. It’s odd, foreign. After so many years of isolating himself from other people, he hadn’t realized how much he craved physical contact.

And the burn that follows is enough to make him groan.

“Joel?” Immediately your hands are at his sides, Ellie’s face just above his head as his vision swims. The pain is muted. Numb. He’s barely feeling is because he’s far too distracted by your hands. “Can you hear me? I’m going to check your wound again. If you stay awake enough, I want you to eat.”

Ellie has taken his head into her lap before he can protest. Joel is awake just enough to say your name, low and hoarse, before his vision swims with black spots and the last thing he can remember is the burn.

He can remember the burn, and he can remember how you made him feel in the midst of it. Peaceful. Safe.

Joel Miller has never known peaceful or safe. Not since her. Not since Sarah.

And as he succumbs to sleep, he finds that he wants to know it more.

***

Ellie’s been gone for too long. You know she’s been gone for too long, and you haven’t heard from her on the walkies the two of you had found a couple of weeks before.

She’s been gone too long. You need to go find her.

That’s the second and final time Joel wakes up.

You’re halfway through loading his shotgun when he finally comes to, wide eyed and alert as his hands scramble for purchase on the closest weapon to him. “Easy, Joel,” You chide gently. “It’s just me.”

Something settles in him. He seems at ease with your answer.

“Where’s-” Joel grunts as he sits up, pressing a hand to his side as he does so. You ease the shotgun to the side and kneel down to his level to meet the worry in his gaze. “Where’s Ellie?”

Your frown deepens. “She went out to hunt too long ago,” You reply. “I was just about to secure this place and then go look for her.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You fidget nervously with your hands as your gaze drops into your lap. “I didn’t want to leave you alone, Joel.”

He wants to scold you. Joel wants to chastise you for such a foolish decision when your sister’s life is on the line, but he can’t find it in him to do so because your gaze is so genuine. He’s not used to that.

Joel Miller is not used to real.

Pressing a gentle thumb to the divot in your chin, you’re captivated by the way the condescension and hostility in his demeanor is gone as he slowly moves his fingers to cup the curve of your jaw. “Thank you,” He murmurs gratefully. “But now we need to go find Ellie.” A pause. “Are you ready to do what we need to do, if it gets bad?”

He always asks you this. Right before he has to embrace the side of himself that scares you, that you’ve tried so hard to keep at bay, Joel warns you about it.

“Yeah. Yeah...” You pump the shotgun in response and press it against your hip. “Yeah, I am.”

It’s uncanny how quickly you’ve learned how to slip into your masks. The mask of the gentle, compassionate woman that Joel had only just gotten to know disappears in the face of the violence he’s so accustomed to - shifting into something darker, more apathetic, more willing to do what needs to be done.

Even for the sake of one life.

You don’t even flinch when he starts torturing two of the men patrolling the neighborhood you’ve called home for the last few days. Not when the screaming starts. not when the blood pours.

“Now, the girl. Is she alive?”

“What girl? I don’t know no girl!”

The poor idiot doesn’t start talking until Joel has driven his blade clear through his knee. According to his endless rambling, your kid sister has become the newest pet to someone named David.

And that makes you see red.

You don't blink twice when both bodies lay motionless on the ground.

“Hey Joel?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

“When we find this David,” You drag your fingers across the expanse of his shoulders to rest them on the exposed skin of his neck. His pulse thrums steadily under your touch. “I’m going to be the one to put the bullet in his face.”

***

The storm has died down to a newly fallen December snow. The temper has eased, and the anger has dissipated - only to be directed toward the people who are most deserving of it - into something that searches, that yearns, for something.

Snow melts. Snow melts and reveals what lays beneath it.

You’re just inside of the Salt Lake City limits when it happens. You’re the one who volunteered to take watch while Joel and Ellie slept. The three of you were nearly in the endgame now being so close to the Firefly hospital. Once your sister was taken there, the world would finally be saved.

And you could finally settle. No more running, no more existing.

Chewing absently on the inside of your cheek, you fiddle with the edge of your rifle from your lookout point over your camp. You’re almost too deep into your thoughts to hear him scream.

But he doesn’t just scream. Joel screams Sarah’s name, and everything becomes astonishingly clear as to why he has been the way he is. Ellie had told you about Tommy trying to slip Joel the last photo of him and his daughter before the outbreak. How he’d refused it. How he, to this day, remained adamant that his departed little girl would never be a topic of conversation.

No one warns you about the loss of a child.

“Easy, Joel,” You warn, shouldering your rifle as you climb down from the tree to sit beside the bed. His shaking fingers are wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade. “There’s just a couple of hours until the sun comes up. You thirsty?”

Dark eyes flicker to the next bedroll. Ellie is still sleeping.

“No,” He replies gruffly. “But thanks.”

There’s a long moment of companionable silence that passes as you sit beside him, finally feeling courageous enough to spill your heart at his feet, “For all those months when we started this, I hated you. I hated you because you clearly hated me-”

“First off,” Joel interjects sharply. “Never been a time in which I hated you. Don’t know what gave you that assumption.”

“So if it wasn’t hate, then what was it? I’m not an expert at reading Joel Miller,” You shrug. “At least not yet.”

The sun is just beginning to creep over the edges of the three line in front of you. The sky above is shifting from the deep black to a soft, gentle blue that will shift into the golds and oranges of dawn.

You’re running out of time.

Joel swallows the knot in his throat as he contemplates his answer. Giving the real answer means being real and vulnerable. He’s not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

He’s not sure if he’s ready for that but with the open, earnest way you’re looking at him? He’ll get there eventually.

“Sarah was my daughter,” Joel says quietly. He can’t look at you. If he looks at you while he says this he will come apart at the seams. “She died at the start of the epidemic. Longer that goes by, more I’m almost.. grateful.” The words are sour on his tongue. It sounds so wrong. “She was too good for a world like this one. Too pure. Any kind of innocence I had was gone a long time ago. I was made for this kind of life,” His eyes slowly shift to meet yours. You haven’t taken your gaze off of his face once. “You and Ellie weren’t.”

You smile. “That’s sweet, Joel. Really. But you could not know-”

“I do know. I know because you have something that doesn’t exist anymore.’’

You tip your head to the side in confusion. “Which is?”

“Goodness. Compassion. You’re real,” Joel pauses, running his tongue along his teeth. “That’s why it looked like I hated you. I hated you because I was afraid of how real you are. How gentle you are.”

“Why would that be something you’d fear?” You ask softly.

“Because I don’t deserve that kind of thing, Sunshine. Goodness? Compassion? All the soft things that died with my little girl?” He shakes his head. “Those aren’t something you give to someone like me.”

You’d noticed over the last couple of months that every time you touched Joel, he recoiled like he had been burned. You’d seen that before too. It was the look often accompanied by the quiet desire to seek more of something you’d been deprived of: The look of a touch starved man.

It was why you’d been more deliberate in starting slow. Cheek touches, chin touches, gentle fingers raking through his hair to scrape across his scalp and kisses to bloodied knuckles on the nights things were bad.

If he wanted real, if he wanted peace, you were more then willing to give it to him.

“I had a son,” You whisper. This is not something you are ready to divulge to Ellie. Not yet. “He was born around the same time she was, though she never knew it,” Something akin to realization flickers through his eyes before he’s opening his mouth to apologize, most likely, but you hush him with a raised hand as you continue. “He died before he ever turned one.”

You didn’t want to continue. It was still too fresh. Too raw. He would’ve been fifteen soon.

Joel took your hand into his own and spread your fingers apart, dragging the tips of his own fingers across the back of each of yours before lifting them to his lips to kiss all your fingertips.

“They have a word for someone who’s lost a spouse. What do you call someone who lost a child?”

And there it is, that quiet understanding you share that makes you ache to pull back what remains of his walls and finally reveal the man who lay underneath.

You hum thoughtfully as you then lean forward to just barely graze your lips against his cheek.

That’s also the same time Ellie decides to wake up. She sees the way your silhouettes cast across the grass as the rays of early morning light emerge from over the trees. She sees the way Joel leans into you like he’s seeking something, and she sees the way scarlet dusts your cheeks when you finally pull away.

Hm.

Seems like you’ve finally found what you’re looking for.

***

Everything finally feels right. You’ve finally started down a path that ends with Joel realizing that you love him, with Joel realizing that he’s deserving, and with you hopefully realizing that he’s been reciprocating for quite some time.

The three of you are at the hospital in Salt Lake after being caught in the flood. You’re the one who took the most damage. Battered and bruised, Joel is left to watch helplessly from your bedside as you sleep. He’d only just woken up himself in the same state.

Marlene comes in much, much later to tell you what’s going on with Ellie. What the real cure is, what it will do to her.

And suddenly, again, everything comes screeching to a halt.

This is the story of how, despite everything between you and Joel going right, everything begins to go wrong and you’re left with a decision that will inevitably cost you your sister.

All of those lives, for the sake of one.... is it worth it?

Haven’t I given enough?

part two??? :D

#The Last of Us #tlou #tlou1 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel x Reader

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0li0v3rkill · 2 years

Text

𝐉𝐎𝐕𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐄

summary: your husband and daughter are a welcome sight after a long, tiring day.

pairing: eddie munson x gn!reader

word count: 1.1 k

warnings: singular mention of breaking an arm, its mentioned reader is afab but its not specific??? if that makes sense LOL

author’s note: heavily inspired by dustyzbuns edit of eddie as a dad on tiktok :(

my masterlist

the creak of the front door is quiet against the cold night air as you open it, slipping through quietly. you toe your shoes off and place your keys on the hanger next to the door before slipping off your jacket with a sigh. all the lights were turned off, the only glow coming from a nightlight in the hallway. the unmistakable murmur of care bears playing on the tv in the living room could be heard. you smile, eddie must’ve taped it for her.

ever since you two had even started talking about starting a family, you knew eddie would be a good dad. he was an incredible husband, partner, friend, bandmate; he could fulfill any role wonderfully, so how was this any different?

you knew eddie wanted a boy before you two had known the gender of the baby. you knew he wanted to name him ozzy, of course he did; you knew he wanted to make up for lost years with his father with his own son. this didn’t stop the sparkles in his eyes when he found out you two were having a girl, though. he was ecstatic either way, you deduced, and any shred of disappointment was completely gone with the wind.

he started thinking of names from the jump, from pop culture the two of you liked because of course his daughter’s name would be a reference. morticia was talked about some, as you both enjoyed the addam’s family growing up; even wednesday was given some thought.

it wasn’t until you two were speaking about how you’d first met that a name was settled on. you spoke about that fateful day when you had both happened to go to hawkins records and had reached for the same vinyl; seventy-eight thousand degrees fahrenheit by bon jovi. a concert for the band had even been your first date. you still remember when he shyly held out the tickets to you all those years ago, stumbling over his words as blush creeped up on his cheeks, all his charisma seemingly vanishing under pressure. it was clear the band had brought you two together, so you had both decided on jovi lee munson.

your socked feet walk cautiously through the hall and towards the blue glow of the living room, your nerves jittery with joy at the thought of seeing your husband and daughter. your shift at work had been more than hectic, and your coworker asking you to cover theirs as well just added more stress on your shoulders. but all was fine now, as you would finally be able to sit and relax with your family in tow.

eddie was lying on the couch, jovi snuggled up on top his chest, wrapped in her favorite bat-themed blanket. the beloved cloth gave her the cutest little cotton bat ears and wings. she was awake, but content as eddie snored away, her eyes focused on the television as she nursed away at a pink sippy cup. she was a good girl.

you approach her gently, a smile gracing your lips as you sit on the floor in front of the couch.

“hi, baby girl,” you coo, brushing a brunette curl behind her ear. you were thankful she was blessed with hair similar to eddie’s, even if the upkeep was a bit hard.

jovi smiles around her sippy cup, her upper half rising from her father’s chest and her chubby little hand grabbing at his face and neck in excitement. he groans, something along the lines of ‘jov, please.’

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss eddie’s temple. “had a nice nap?”

“i was until my daughter decided to claw at my face. we really gotta trim her nails, babe.” he says, rubbing sleep away from his eyes with a yawn. “how was work?”

“eh, could’ve been better. charlotte’s kid broke his arm so i had to cover for her while she brought him to the e.r. that’s why i was so late,”you explain, your hand resting upon eddie’s, which rested against jovi’s back.

“damn, is that kid ever not in the hospital?” he snorts.

“i think him and his skateboard just don’t mix. maybe it has it out for him,” you chuckle. “was jov good today?”

“as always. we just hung out today, mostly. i let her stay in her walker while i cleaned. turns out she really likes fleetwood mac; was bouncing her little feet and shit when i put it on the stereo.” he smiles, wincing slightly when jovi grabs some of his hair and pulls. “no, no, jov. soft, soft.” he chides gently, instead redirecting her hand to pet his locks softly instead. she repeats the action, although its more of experimentally flat taps against his hair than anything.

“i missed you guys,” you confess, leaning your head down to rest against eddie’s shoulder and grabbing hold of one of jovi’s small hands. she wraps them around one of your fingers, babbling to herself happily. you feel eddie turn as he places a kiss on the crown of your head.

“we did too.” he sighs.

“really?” you laugh. “jov behaves better for you than me. she was literally just lying there while you were napping! i bet she didn’t even think of me all day.”

“that’s not true! besides, its not my fault im such a cool dad, right, jov?” he sits up, grabbing jovi under the arms and lifting her just above his face. he begins to blow raspberries against her tummy, her little arms and legs flailing as she laughs joyfully. he sets her down on his lap, giggling along with her.

“she is very much a daddy’s girl,” you roll your eyes lovingly, a smile pulling on your features.

“she sure is,” eddie says, sweeping your daughter up into a tight hug. “daddy loves you more than the whole wide world! and that’s a lot!” he says dramatically, whisper-shouting the last part before placing a big kiss on jovi’s chubby cheek. you glance at the digital clock above the television with a sigh, standing and placing a kiss on each of their foreheads.

“i’m gonna head to bed, i’ve got an early shift tomorrow.” you say. “you two coming?”

“yeah, in just a bit, sweetheart. guess what we’re gonna do tomorrow?” eddie turns to jovi, unfazed by the fact that she can’t answer. “you,” he points to her small chest. “get special access to practice with corroded coffin, little miss.”

jovi accompanying eddie to practice wasn’t something that happened often, but she had a blast when she did. she loved the loud shreds of her father’s guitar, bouncing around in her walker with her little headphones on to protect her ears.

you smile fondly as you walk down the hall towards your bedroom, listening to the nonsensical babbling of your daughter meld with the encouraging coos of your husband.

#「𝗛𝗩𝗡𝗡𝗬𝗦 𝗦𝗙𝗪 !」#eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #dad!eddie munson #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fluff

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kittyball23 · 6 months

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Hot Tubbing (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: After babysitting his 13 nieces and nephews, Branch unwinds in one of Vacay Island’s jacuzzi-like hot springs… and is soon joined by Poppy

A/N: November 17th is finally here!! Welcome to the first story of my new oneshot collection "Grown-Up Stuff," (also found on AO3, Fanfiction.net, and Wattpad under the same name in addition to being posted here on Tumblr) which will mostly be centered around Broppy, but may feature some Cliva and other couples in the future :)

FYI this fic has been Rated M, as it will have adult themes present, though nothing explicitly written. You do not have to read if these topics are something you are not comfortable with. If you do decide to go forth, all I can say is enjoy! 💕

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"Ahhh…"

Now that felt good. While the water had stung a bit upon entering, it didn't take very long at all for it to work its magic and ease the soreness in Branch’s muscles. Pretty soon, he was leaning back, his arms on either side of him and a sigh of satisfaction escaping his lips. His brother Bruce wasn't kidding. The hot springs really were a great place to unwind, especially after being tossed and wrestled by kids who were far taller than Trolls. Most of the time, this type of experience befell Bruce, but, given that he and Brandy had taken the night off to have some alone time, babysitting duty had fallen upon Branch.

For the first half of the night at least.

He rotated positions with John Dory for the second half, and could now take a moment to relax properly. And on Vacay Island, everything was top-notch in that department. The potent warmth was soon working to bring a sense of sleepiness to him, and he allowed his eyes to shut. Aimless thoughts wandered throughout his mind: of Pop Village, of his brothers, but, mostly of Poppy. He could feel a smile forming on his lips even in his twilight state. Poppy... She looked good in his head, whether it was a memory or whether it was just fantasies of what their future together could bring. One of those, admittedly, was marriage and a family. Maybe not a family as big as Bruce's, but still, a few Troll kiddos wouldn't be so bad. Not bad at all. And neither would the way to go about making that happen... Branch felt as though the water got even hotter when he thought of that.

The Troll didn't think he was too far gone in his exhaustion, but somewhere he figured he must've fallen asleep to the hum of the bubbling water and wind in the foliage, because it was a soft, feminine voice that he registered next.

"You look pretty relaxed."

Branch stirred, blinking drowsy eyes up at the newcomer.

"Huh, wha?" he mumbled, rubbing an eye and registering that it was Poppy who'd spoken. She peered down amusedly at him, her lips sipping at the straw of a fruity drink and her legs slightly submerged into the water from her spot at the edge of the pool. But if the sheer presence of his beloved wasn't enough to stir him awake, then it sure was the attire she had on. The swimsuit was a powder-yellow two-piece, hugging her body snugly and extenuating her slim figure in ways that made his mind race with desire.

He sat straight up, flustered. "Oh! H-hey, Poppy," he stammered, trying to sound casual. Branch cleared his throat, and managed to speak a little more controlled the second time around. "So, um, what are you doing here? I thought you and Viva were hitting the waves."

Poppy nodded. "Yeah, we did for a little bit. But then we called it early. Veevs had other plans… with your brother."

Branch cooked his head. "Clay?"

"Yeah," Poppy confirmed with a smirk. "She wanted to spend some time with him… and I wanted to spend some time with you." She glanced down at him with a half-lidded gaze, giving a flirtatious little growl.

Branch’s eyes bugged.

"So whaddya say, Branch? Got room for one more?"

"Well, I, um, I mean… you can, um, i-if you wanna…"

Poppy smiled. "Great!"

Setting her drink down, she scooted herself over the edge of the pool and plopped inside. The water sloshed a bit, and she hissed at the temperature that befell her skin.

"Ooo, you all right?" Branch asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Oh, yeah, I'm good!" Poppy assured. "Feels really, really nice."

"Yeah," Branch agreed, smirking. "It sure does…" He surprised himself with the husky quality his voice had taken, and realized that it didn't go over Poppy’s head, either. There was a look on her face that could only be described as pleased bewilderment, and he could see a blush forming on her cheeks.

Affected so, she bore into his blue eyes with her deep fuchsia and batted her lashes. "Why don't you come a little closer," she purred, adding her own little suggestive twinge to her words.

Now it was Branch’s turn to blush. A tingle went down his spine - and in other places he wouldn't dare tell her about - but he liked it. And while he wanted to obey, he didn't see the harm in dragging out the tease, even if it was by a minute or two.

"Ehh, I don't know," he said, as though he were indecisive.

Poppy pretended to pout, sticking her bottom lip out. "Aww, come on, I won't bite!" But then she paused, giggled, and added, "Much."

Branch raised an eyebrow. "Much?" he questioned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Get over here and find out," she urged, rolling her eyes playfully.

Branch shrugged. "Fine."

Slowly, purposefully slow, he moved towards her, taking his time inching himself towards her space.

Poppy tapped her fingers impatiently against the edge of the pool. "Can you move any slower?" she whined.

"Can you be any cuter?" he quipped back, finally in enough proximity to be able to wrap an arm around her. Poppy’s arms slinked around his neck, firmly holding him to her as he brought a damp hand up to her cheek, cupping it gently. He waited a heartbeat, letting the sensual tension escalate between them, before allowing himself to lean forward and close the gap.

Poppy sighed deeply as their lips met, melting into the kiss, and Branch felt a surge of affection run through his veins. He tilted his head almost instantly, deepening the connection right away, and she moaned quietly in approval. She was extra sweet, he noted, her taste a hint of pineapple from the fruity concoction she'd been sipping, as well as her usual, strawberry flavor that seemed to permeate every part of her being. It made him feel warm and fuzzy all throughout, making it far too easy to lose himself in the experience. He made a noise of appreciation at the feeling as he pulled away just long enough to gasp in another breath and dive back in, twice as eager this time.

Turned out he wasn’t the only one eager. As he’d learned, Poppy had been the one in their relationship to test the metaphorical waters. First with the peck to the cheek he’d received on the day of the Trolls Kingdom Holiday Gift Swap, and then with the first real kiss they’d shared at Mount Rageous, after he’d successfully opened up to her about his feelings. And now, she was testing herself again.

He hadn’t known what she was up to, until she actually did it. He gasped when he felt a nip, Poppy’s teeth having caught his bottom lip upon one of their breaks for air and tugging lightly for a second before she released. The sensation sent an unexpected bolt of excitement coursing through him, the feeling stronger when he noted Poppy's dark, dilated pupils gazing hungrily at him, her breath coming quicker now. Flirty growls, or no flirty growls, Branch knew one thing - his girlfriend was turned on.

And so was he.

Their next kiss that followed was deeper, and more passionate as a result. Poppy nipped once again, at the corner of his mouth this time, and allowed her next few smooches to trail across his jawline, making a path down the crook of his neck. Branch hummed, his thoughts battling each other. One part of him enjoyed the attention profusely, while the other had him wishing his lips could claim hers again. Both evaporated, however, when he felt her reach a sensitive spot just below his earlobe and take another little nibble. He wouldn't know how to describe the sound that came out of him in response. It might have been a whimper, or it might have been a groan, but either way, it caused Poppy to giggle, the vibration of her laugh tickling Branch's skin.

It wasn't hard to admit that she had a guilty pleasure in prompting reactions out of Branch. Which is why her next idea was getting her excited.

She leaned back, ensuring that her fuchsia gaze was unwaveringly locked to his blue as her hands wandered down, below the water, reaching the hem of his swimming trunks.

Blushing heavily and bracing himself for the onslaught of sensory stimulation that was sure to come, Branch knew he wasn't going to be truly prepared for what was coming next…

… Though, not in the intimate way that he anticipated.

So focused on expecting the next feeling to be under the confines of his swim attire, Branch nearly jumped when an enormous, unforeseen SPPLLAAASH! erupted from the pool in a wave of jacuzzi water that drenched him and Poppy completely!

Poppy shrieked in surprise, ripping herself away from Branch, while her boyfriend sputtered, eyes wide.

"What the - who - ??"

“WOO! Ten outta ten on that cannonball, ay, bro?”

“Oh, nooo,” Branch groaned, already knowing that voice before he even finished rubbing the water out of his eyes completely. “John Dory, you’re not supposed to jump into a jacuzzi! And aren’t you supposed to be watching the kids?!”

His eldest brother adjusted his goggles and blew a raspberry. “Yo, chill, dude, Floyd’s got it covered. He offered to step in and help!”

Branch facepalmed. Oh, Floyd. He knew his favorite brother was big-hearted and always looking out for the rest of their crew… but taking over John Dory’s babysitting duty when not even five minutes had passed by was a little absurd! Branch could probably guess that JD hammed up his struggle just to get out of it.

John Dory then noticed Poppy. “Hey, Poppy Seed! How’s it shakin’ since the last time I saw ya?”

Poppy giggled, meeting him halfway for a fistbump, and shrugged her shoulders. “Oh, you know. Guess you could say I’ve been ‘shaking things up’ with Branch.” She gave her boyfriend a sly look, to which he became bashful, remembering what she had been about to do.

“Oh,” John Dory said, then putting it together and realizing what he’d done. “OHHH, shoot, did I interrupt something here?”

Branch’s deadpanned look told him what he needed to know.

He tittered with embarrassment. “Hehe, my bad! I could totally scoot if ya want. I’m sure there’s gotta be some other jacuzzi here on the isle!”

“No, it’s okay, we were just heading out,” Poppy said, lifting herself over the edge of the pool and reaching for the towel she'd brought with her. “But we’ll see you later, okay?”

JD looked disappointed to see them go, but understood. “It’s all right. Catch y’all later!”

As Branch and Poppy walked off hand in hand, the Pop Queen giggled. Branch glanced at her with curiosity.

“Probably should’ve told him there’d be no guarantee we’d see him later,” she said suggestively.

Branch raised an eyebrow, the heat returning to his cheeks. “Poppy… what do you have in mind?”

She glanced at him mischievously. “Wanna go look for another hot spring? I’m sure John Dory’s right, there’s gotta be more than one on the island. That way we can finish what we started…” She peers down at her place of interest for just a flit of a moment, but even then it causes Branch to blush, stammering his reply.

“S-sure!”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #grown up stuff fanfiction #100+

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