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2-dsimp · 1 month

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Yandere rich single dad falling for his daughter's nanny/babysitter!

Cw: fem reader! jealousy, possessive/obsessive tendencies, father-daughter plotting on you, you’ve got an pushy coworker,

Synopsis: 【You were just a normal office worker with a minimum wage. So in an effort to pay rent, you scrounged job offers for babysitting since you were good at handling children. And in the process you applied and got accepted to become a nanny for a rich former movie star’s daughter. The daughter apparently hated every nanny she got but once she met you she was absolutely smitten…And so was her Daddy.】

Pt2→ 《x》

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

Yandere rich Dilf! Who continues to pace back and forth in his house, his anticipation growing as the seconds count down. He knows that you must be getting off work soon, and that you'll be coming back to him ahem to take care of his little brat and him before too long.

Yandere rich Dilf! That tries to distract himself, focusing on making sure everything is prepared for your arrival. He excused all the servants so he can personally oversee that everything in his mansion was set up to perfection. He was sweating like a madman.

Yandere rich Dilf! Who couldn’t shake the feeling of jittery excitement that's building within him. Eventhough he was hailed as a famous handsome actor he couldn’t get his shit together at the thought of finally making moves on his darling. This poor man was practically leaning against the counter for life support. From how he got swept up by the plan his nosey daughter concocted. Which was for him to seduce you into making you completely theirs.

Yandere rich Dilf! Whose daughter was already in full support of making her sweet nanny into her new mommy. And was smart enough to call her playmates ahead of time. So her Dad can give her the sibling she’s always been asking for. Since she was tired of being the only child in the huge mansion.

As the clock ticks down the minutes foretelling of your arrival. Quio starts to feel a sense of nervousness mixed with impatience, knowing that it was almost game time.

“Cmon Dad you can’t be looking like a wimp, it’s time for you to man up! By the time I get back I expect to have a mommy and a little brother on the way. Understood?”

His daughter, Peina chastised as she whacked him on the back and continued to threaten him give him encouragement before she left to see her friends.

"Okay, okay, Understood you prima donna."

Quio sassed with an heavy eye roll from how his bossy his daughter was. I mean sure he knows that she gets that from him. But at the same time it’s surreal to be at the receiving end of having orders being barked at you. Soon enough there’s a signature knock at the door, which makes Peina perk up. As she giddily skips towards the door to greet her beloved nanny.

“Gah wait! I’m not mentally prepared yet! Are ya really tryna give yer old man a heart attack?! How heartless can you be?”

He practically whispered yelled in an attempt to halt his daughter hand from twisting open the knob. As his heart raced at the speed of sound from the thought of seeing his apparent future missus crush. His daughter merely gave him a judgmental glare and promptly flipped him off. Mouthing to him ‘Get it together’ leaving him utterly offended. He was an A-listed actor damn it. Before flinging open the door to greet her Nanny with a big hug to their waist.

“Nana who’s this with you?”

At his daughter’s pointed inquiry, Quio nearly trips over his feet as he hauls ass to the door. His tall and bulky build moving as gracefully as a one legged flamingo. When he peeks his head out only to bite back a bitchy grimace at the sight of you with your so called nice colleague. Oh how he hated that pretentious asshole’s guts despite not knowing a damn thing about the man.

"Uh heya, Sweetheart it’s so good to see ya. I never get tired of seeing your gorgeous face!“

The Dilf crooned with a heavy twang to his voice as he blatantly ignored the little pest hanging to your side. His daughter felt the same way as she outwardly glared at your coworker while she purposefully tugged you closer to her Dad’s direction.

“Aha you flatter me too much Mr. Evinis. Also this is Miki he just so happened to see me and wanted to say hello”

You hummed lightly always finding the rugged single father to be charming. Completely, missing his subtle glance over at Miki, his serpentine eyes studying his potential love rival with thinly concealed disgust . He can't help but feel extremely jealous of the way that Miki is able to freely hang around you because yall worked at the same office. God, would it be too overkill to just buy the company you worked at so he could freely stalk watch you from 9-5.

"Hey, it’s nice to meet you man. But wow you’ve got an amazing house”

Your colleague says with a grin, holding out a hand for Quio to shake. Both him and his daughter stared down with an ick at the outstretched sweaty hand of the slime ball. And in order to keep up appearances in front of his soon to be wife. The Dilf inwardly sighed and begrudgingly took Miki's hand into an bruising iron grip. his eyes still fixed on you as he tries to focus on the conversation.

"Uh huh, Nice to meet you pal. Well, come on in, make yourself at home Sweet— "

“Don’t mind if I do! Oh my god is that the newest gaming console?”

Quio was soon interrupted by your colleague who had the audacity to grab you by the shoulders and usher you inside his mansion. Did he say that fucking parasite was invited? No, so why the hell did that cockblocking bitch think it was okay to scamper his mousy ass inside his mansion. Only meant for his lovely wife, his daughter, and him, alone. He was definitely going to call pest control afterwards to make sure the problem wouldn’t occur again.

Veins popped out around his neck as the Dilf nearly broke the door handle in utter rage. While numerous murderous thoughts about curb stomping the shit outta Miki crossed his mind like a freight train. And his daughter was the splitting image of him. She was appalled by how that leech just snatched her mommy nanny away from her grasp. And she balled her tiny fists with a small snarl present as she snapped her head up to give her Father a knowing look.

“Dad!…”

“Yeah I know squirt, I’ll make sure to have a real good chat with the fucker— I mean guy. You’ll get your sibling and mommy soon enough.”

Quio said in a hushed tone with an undertone of venomous certainty. Which made Peina somewhat pleased as she curtly nodded off at her Dad.

“Now run along and stay outta grown folks business”

He huffed lightly nudging his daughter further outside their residence. To which she gave an equally heavy eye roll mirroring his that he gave her a couple minutes ago. Before she started trotting off towards her friend’s chauffeur car that just pulled up for their play date.

Yeah he’d make damn sure that you’d be his pretty darling mama for him and his baby girl. Afterall he’s a man of his word and he promised to deliver. Nothing would stand in his way of achieving whatever he wanted. And he sure as hell isn’t letting Miki from the stupid parts and services department. Get away with the disrespect of having the gall to touch you without some form of bloody repercussions.

。

Lmk If you guys like him. If so, I’ll write some more or make a part two (>^ω^<)

#yandere drabble #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yanderecore #yandere concept #yandere content #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #dilf x reader #Quio the dilf #yandere dad

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osachiyo · 7 months

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❥ ҉ ༄ PRETTIEST WHEN YOU CRY !

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, fyodor, nikolai x fem!reader ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : nsfw content, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, bondage (rashomon I'm so sorry girl), sadism, petnames, degradation, spanking, edging, mentions of murder in nikolai's etc ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : you're a crybaby and they love it ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : this one won the poll so here it is! I might do a bimbo reader one so keep an eye out for that 👀 ♡

DAZAI ☆⌒(>。<;)

This guy basically read you like a book the first time you two met. He knew that you were a very emotional person, and he liked that about you. It was very different from himself, considering he hides his emotions most, if not all of the time. So it was a nice and much needed change.

When he first learned that you were very emotional in bed aswell, he definitely used that against you. I mean, how could he not? Watching the fat tear drops running down your pretty eyes made his cock throb in a sick, twisted way and he loved it. He would make you sob his name out until your voice is hoarse, then cradle you like a baby in his arms and mutter soft words of praise to you. Telling you how good you are for him, taking his cock so nicely.

"don't tell me you're tapping out already, sweet girl?" Dazai hummed, tracing little shapes on your hip as you lay there, face buried into the pillows as they dampen with your tears. He had you in a prone bone, hips laying flush against your ass. "can't t-take it!" You hiccuped, body jolting when he grinds his hips into yours, "yes, you can, baby. I've barely started, you can definitely take more," he chuckled, laying soft kisses on your shoulder blades to help you ease up a bit. You moaned out when he thrusted into you a bit harder, hips smacking against your plush ass. Your pretty painted nails were scratching his linen sheets, almost ripping the fabric. Dazai's hand curled around your figure, reaching to play with your swollen clit. You gasped when he bit down on your shoulder, now moving his hips erratically while he chased his impending orgasm. You could feel his hot breath against your ear when he moaned lowly next to your ear, "god─ you feel amazing, 'donna," he bit your lobe playfully, fingers working wonders on your clit as his cock hits your sweet spot repeatedly. He needed to make you cum, needed to see his pretty girl gush on his cock. He slightly angled his hips and oh. You let out an almost guttural moan, head laying limp on the pillow as your back arches for him, tears still falling freely from your eyes. Looks like he finally found it, found the spot that make you go stupid and he wasn't gonna stop anytime soon.

CHUUYA ☆⌒(>。<;)

That one time you went on a first date with Chuuya was..interesting. Well, more embarrassing on your part but that's okay. He had taken you to see a movie. A character had died in the movie, it was definitely sad but Chuuya wasn't that affected. He heard little sniffles from his side, so when he turned to you and saw a fountain of tears dripping down your face and you struggling to stiffle your whimpers, he was a bit concerned. He asked if you were okay— but then you started bawling out. He took you to a fancy ice cream parlour later to make you feel better <3

Chuuya always treats you like you're made out of glass, thinking even the slightest pressure will shatter you, and that's applies to your bedroom activities with him aswell. He'd caress your body with the most gentle touch, shushing your cries and kissing your tears away.

Your legs were propped up on Chuuya's strong shoulders, hair splayed out on the sheets and some of it sticking to your forehead, framing your face beautifully. You were like an angel to him, downright heavenly. An angel in the grasp of a devil? He huffed out a laugh at that, the noise vibrating against your sopping cunt. His gloved hands gripped your thighs like a vice, fingers sinking in the soft flesh. His swollen lips kiss your clit gently, tongue poking out to taste you and fuck, he could do this for hours. His tongue breached past your gooey hole, nose bumping against your clit as you clutch the dark red sheets in your hands, tears stinging your glossy eyes while you shudder from the pleasure of your boyfriend feasting on you. "mmh— taste so good, doll," he muttered, eyes flicking up to make contact with your tear-soaked ones, groaning into your cunt when he sees the cute pout you wore. "f-feels good, 'chuu," you gasped, head thrown back in ecstasy when he wrapped his lipstick stained lips around your clit, encircling a finger against your hole. When did he take his gloves off? Your vision was hazy, stomach clenching and unclenching when he pushed two fingers into you, curling them just right to make you see stars. His lips leave your clit to leave bite marks on your inner thighs, pinning them down firmly when you try to close them. "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna take everything I give you, okay?" You could only nod in response, sniffling as the tears drip down your chin. He couldn't help but hump the bed at the sight of your tears flowing freely, snot running down your nose as you try your best to stay still and more importantly, be a good girl for him. You were just too fucking adorable.

AKUTAGAWA☆⌒(>。<;)

He was genuinely so confused when you started crying because he was going to leave on a mission for 4 days. He actually thought you were possessed or something at first but you had to explain to him that no, you were not in fact possessed but just a very sensitive person. He thought you were stupid for crying like that, it's not like he's leaving forever. Actually had the audacity to tell you to get over it and stop being a baby....typical Akutagawa...

Made up to you later because gin smacked the shit outta him.

Akutagawa came home late that night, the aura around him seemed...wrong. It felt like he was angry or upset at something. You poked your head out slightly from the ajar door of your shared bedroom, watching him mutter random curses and mentioning a name you had heard many times before, 'weretiger'. You quietly walked towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind, resting your back against his back. He stayed still for a few moments before you felt something whip out from under his coat, wrapping around your limbs and slamming you against the wall. He turned around, finally facing you. His eyes were darkened with lust and..something you couldn't really understand. That's the last coherent thought you had before—

You thrashed around, trying to break free of the bounding but it's no use, it's grip was tight, and firm. A fragile thing like you couldn't even land a scratch on it. All you could do was stay still and endure Akutagawa pounding your cunt, a lewd mix of your slick and his precum formed a puddle on the carpeted floor. A tendril of the cloth had been draped around your eyes, turning you blind for the moment, making you all the more sensitive to your lover's rough touch. His cock continuously brushed against the spongy spot inside your velvety walls, rendering you a mess at his mercy. His rough hands were pinching and pulling at your nipples, coaxing broken moans out of you. You could feel your voice getting hoarse from screaming his name out so much. His hip bones were jabbing against your own, little curses and grunts slipping out of his pale lips, which were swollen and slightly red from him biting them so much. His hand reached everywhere he could, desperate to force more moans and tears of pleasure out of you. How he loved seeing you cry because of him, your glassy eyes swollen and red from crying so much, bottom lip jutted out into a pout as you wail from the painful pleasure he's enforcing upon you. "shut up and take it," he'd growl, feeling you clench on his cock. He loved you, he really did, but he loved your tears just as much.

FYODOR ☆⌒(>。<;)

'Easy manipulation'. That's what Fyodor thought to himself when he first met you. He liked how easy to control you were. He barely even had to pull a few strings to make you fall head over heels for him. He was thinking of just using you for his own benefit, but alas, he had caught himself falling for you. He was a bit annoyed at first, but quickly realized he could just keep you forever and you wouldn't even mind.

Like Dazai, he'd also use your tears against you in bed. Of course, you were his lovely angel and he adored you, but it wasn't his fault you looked so pretty when you cried, was it? He was a man, after all, he couldn't ignore the urges clawing at the back of his mind.

That's why you were splayed out on his bed, legs wrapped around his hips as he fucks into your sopping heat. His hair was tied in a loose ponytail, that you did on him earlier. His bangs were brushing against your sweaty forehead. He leaned back to admire the addicting view of tears flowing out of your pretty eyes like a river, the droplets looking like shiny jewels. The area around your eyes were slightly red and puffy from crying, but he didn't relent. "does it feel good, milaya?" His lips curved into a smirk, placing gentle kisses on your ankles as he grinds his hips into you. "please— fedya! 'wanna cum so bad!—ngh—" you sobbed, nails digging into his pristine sheets while you buck your hips up, trying to reach your orasgm. Fyodor only tutted, completely stopping his hips as he feigns a disappointed look, "you can do better than that, darling," his hand reaches down to thumb at your clit, forcing a moan out of you. "please! 't hurts! please make me cum, 'wanna cum on your cock so bad, plea—" he cut you off with a thrust of his hips, seemingly satisfied with your pathetic begging. You sobbed out his name repeatedly, eyes shut as he wraps a slender hand around your throat, fucking into you with much vigour than before. If you weren't so cockdrunk, you'd hear how hard the headboard was slamming against the wall, bed creaking with each brutal thrust. Your eyes rolled back when your orgasm approached closer, the coil in your stomach about to snap when— you wailed when he stopped thrusting again, cutting off the path to your sweet, sweet orgasm. He only laughed at your whining, a low moan rumbling in his chest when your cunt tightened around him. Unfortunately for you, torturing you was way too fun for him.

NIKOLAI ☆⌒(>。<;)

This man is a fucking menace. He'd do anything and everything to see you cry, and you make it so easy for him that he does it all the time. But only he's allowed to make you cry. If anyone else dares to make you shed your pretty tears, he'd rip their head off, put it in a pretty little present box and send it on your doorstep. He'd relish in the horrified face you make after opening the box, tears gathering in your bottom lashline at the terrifying sight. He'd take you out later as an apology though <33

He thinks you are absolutely adorable, his precious little dove. Corrupting someone like you is definitely his fortè, he loves it. One of the things he loves to do the most is punishing you. Be it overstimulation, edging, spanking or all of them, he enjoys every single one. Even if you haven't done anything wrong, he'd randomly pull you onto his lap and tell you to count before spanking you until your ass is red and sore, you'd cry your eyes out form the pain but it felt so good at the same time.

You guess thats how you ended up in this predicament, face down and ass up as Nikolai fucks you into the mattress. His hand was buried in your hair, shoving your head further down on the pillow beneath you as he slammed into you over and over again at a borderline inhuman pace. His other hand was gripping your hip tightly, occasionally slapping the soft fat of your ass. He snickered at your dumb babbles of pure ecstasy, drooling on the pillow as he fucked you raw. He's been at this for hours, fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you and all you could do was lay there and take it like the good little doll you were. Sobs wracked through your entire body when his hand came down to the sore flesh of your ass again, and fuck did it sting like a bitch. He kneaded the plush fat in his large hand as an apology but it only made it hurt more and he knew that. You felt like passing out from the sheer exhaustion settling in your bones, a hand making its way to press against Kolya's abdomen, trying to get him to stop or atleast slow down, "kolya— 'm gonna pass out!" you sobbed, clinging onto the pillow with one hand for dear life. He smacked your hand away from his abdomen, only thrusting into you harder, "aww~ you're gonna pass out?" He cooed, reaching his hand out to grip your chin, turning your head to face him. You nodded, sniffling as he kissed your tears away, "then pass out~♡"

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGS 𖤐 @zaiisamu @mellieellie @reyanne @anastaxiah @crystalzxv0 @shiopi @dazaiserectnips @r-e-m-i @jjflipflop12 @jay--feather @deepstrawberrycreator @simp4bsdcharacters @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @tojiscardboardboxx @kemis-world @stygianoir @vrivl1 @rei-pearl @lovleyyz

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etherealising · 10 months

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chapter two | the weight of existing

↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairings: platonic!mikey berzatto x fem!reader | carmen berzatto x fem!reader (future)

summary: you and carmy try to get to the bottom of your issues, only for carmy to sow further division between you two, leading you to share some unwelcome thoughts regarding life with mikey.

wc: 4.5k

You had been at the Berzatto family home for an hour now, and everything was in absolute chaos. You thanked your lucky stars for growing up around this family. If this had been your first time spending a holiday with them, you were sure your fight or flight alarms would be blaring right now. You had been in the kitchen with Donna ever since your and Carmy’s stifled meeting earlier in the evening.

You loved Donna, really you did, and you appreciated everything she did for you when your mom couldn’t. But if you knew anything by being an honorary member of the Berzatto family, you knew that being in the kitchen with Donna during the holidays wasn’t the most pleasant of places to be. And you saw your perfect escape when Carmy entered the kitchen, removing Donna’s attention from you and the conversation about how the world of journalism was treating you since you last came home in November.

Your eyes caught Carmy’s as he was swept into his mom’s explanations about what needed to go in the oven and when. You flashed a smile nodding as a sign of encouragement, you were rewarded with a small twitch of his lips before you disappeared into the hallway intending to take a lap around the house and greet the other guests scattered around the house.

The body leaning against the kitchen wall, seemingly trying to become one with the wallpaper caught your attention. Upon further inspection, you realized it was Natalie, a face you were more than happy to see after being in the same house together for over an hour. You gently brushed your hand across her shoulder doing your best not to startle her, her head shot up worry inked in her blue eyes, a deep breath leaving her as she took in whose presence was invading her space.

“Hey Baby,” The slight uptick of her lips showed you just how exhausted she already was, her eyes searching yours for any answers regarding the constant worries shooting through her mind. “How’ve you been, are you alright, I know mom can be a bit much during the holidays.” You let out a small chuckle pulling the older girl into a much-needed hug for the both of you.

“Do you ever take a moment to stop worrying about everyone else and focus on yourself?” You asked her pulling back slightly to further take in her appearance. You loved Nat dearly, she was pretty much the sister you never had, but you hated how she would run herself dry trying to fix everything for everybody else.

You squeezed her hand that was still clutched in yours letting her know that she wasn’t alone and could rely on you if need be. You pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face watching as she leaned her head back against the wall taking a moment for herself. “You worry about everyone Nat, but who worries about you love?” You questioned, and she knew this was no rhetorical question, you expected a genuine answer.

Allowing Nat to take in your words you walked around to the other side of her to lean against the wall next to her, she turned her head watching you take up a similar position as she. “Are you reciting lines from a self-help book?” Your eyes met hers watching as the edges crinkled signifying the smile she now wore, you huffed letting out a chuckle and knocking your shoulder into hers.

“You’re laughing Nat, but I’m serious. And even if I did steal that line from some book, I think it applies scarily well to you Sugar.” The last words spilled from your lips in a sarcastic tone, your eyebrows raising as she rolled her eyes at the sound of her nickname bestowed upon her by her Berzatto counterparts.

“I made a mistake Baby, you chose your nickname.” Nat deadpanned

You laughed, the sound drowned out by whatever conversation everyone else in the house was having. “You tell me what teenage girl didn’t have a crush on Johnny Castle, I will forever cherish your mom for letting me watch Dirty Dancing on my 14th birthday.” You sighed dreamily watching as Natalie shook her head at your antics.

“Baby, that is such a lame excuse,” Nat laughed, turning to face you. “You literally wouldn’t answer to anything else but Baby for a whole week after your birthday. Need I remind you, you took your obsession further and dressed up for Halloween as Baby.” She laughed, her voice filled with what you realized was a reminiscent tone, “I can’t believe you suckered Mikey into dressing up as Johnny though.”

You smiled remembering back to the exact Halloween she was talking about, “Carmy’s head was too far up his ass to dress up with me.” You huffed recalling how Carmy swore up and down that he was too old to dress up anymore. “Plus I think Mikey just did it to make me feel better, that was around the time my mom was having all her health issues.” You shrugged not thinking too much about Mikey’s motivations.

You finally turned to face Natalie, your positioning mirroring hers, “What do you say we find your mom’s old photo albums and hang out with Tiff for a few.” You suggested holding your hand up as Nat was about to give you some excuse to not take a beat for herself. “Shut up Nat your moms will be fine she’s got Ratatouille in the kitchen with her and about a hundred fucking bums in the living room.” Your dig at Carmy brings a slight smile to her face.

The sound of dishes clattering in the kitchen caught your attention a mumbled “Fuck.” Meeting your ears followed by a more coherent “I don’t fucking come home to be compared to a fucking French rat.”

You shared a knowing smile with Natalie, the two of you giggling like school girls in the hallway outside of the kitchen, “I’ll grab the photo albums,” You heard Nat mumble as she walked in the direction you presumed Donna kept the family keepsakes. The minute Nat was out of your sight you let out a deep sigh, you couldn’t help the impending feeling that things were going to get a lot more hectic in the coming hours, and taking a minute to relax with Nat and catch up with Tiff was an out you were definitely looking to take advantage of. Resting your head back against the wall eyes closing as the minutes ticked by while you waited for Nat to collect you, you knew deep down that break wouldn’t be coming but holding on to the idea of a little calmness in a situation helped you fool yourself into believing everything would be alright.

“You good?” Your eyes shot open as the all too familiar voice of Carmen Berzatto filled your ears, though what should’ve alerted you to his presence was the scent of his cologne, a scent you hadn’t smelled in a very long time, yet somehow your body instinctively remembered. You looked to see him standing idly in the doorway of the kitchen, a fresh cigarette hanging from his lips. “Uh, I’m gonna get a quick smoke in, did you - I know you don’t smoke - but you look - and.” You cut his pathetic ramblings off, not quite in the mood to play finish the lyric with him.

“Yeah Carm, I’ll join you outside.” You nodded passing him by to head towards the door, being in the same vicinity as him after so long made you physically ache. And now that you had seen him and deduced that he was in good health, you couldn’t help but feel a little pissed off at the lack of contact between the two of you. No, it wasn’t even a lack of contact. Carmy dropped you like a bad habit and never looked back. As you made your way to the front porch you tried to reason with yourself that Carmy didn’t owe you anything, he didn’t owe you his friendship, or his time, no matter how long you two had known each other. If Carmen woke up one day and decided you were no longer an essential part of his life, he was well within his rights to do so, he was a grown man for crying out loud. But what you wouldn’t stand for, what your brain couldn’t allow you to accept was being cut off with no explanation, you were sure this whole situation between the two of you would’ve hurt less if he had just explained to you why you were no longer good for him.

And maybe you were lying to yourself, and the explanation would have actually made things worse, but you couldn’t change what already was. And as Carmy slowly made his way to follow you out of the house you decided today was the day you were getting answers, call it Carmy’s last-minute Christmas gift to you.

The two of you stood next to each other. A good distance between you two, Carmy respecting you enough to not smoke directly next to you. Carmy tried his hardest to not steal glimpses of you in his peripheral vision, but it was hard not to when you were standing there beside him. If times were different he might’ve reached out to touch you, to assure himself you were physically here with him. To remind himself of what once was between the two of you. What could no longer be?

“Uh-um how have you bee-”

“Why?” You interrupted him, not particularly in the mood for his avoidance tactics.

“Wha-what?” He turned to face you and you wanted to laugh, you weren’t sure if he was genuinely confused or acting incompetent so you’d be the one to apologize. You copied his stance, eyes tracing across every inch of his face, you gave in with a sigh. Carmy was never one to weaponize any incompetence he may have had, you weren’t even sure if he knew how.

“Why are you asking Carmen, do you actually care, or are you just trying to make small talk?” You watched as he removed the cigarette from between his lips, holding it in the hand furthest from you and turning his face in the opposite direction to release the nicotine-scented air from his lungs.

He ran his free hand through his hair, something that used to drive you crazy, but now standing in this moment with him you couldn’t be bothered to feed into the childhood crush your weak heart still harbored for him. “I-I care, I didn - it was never my intention to cut you off.” He said searching your eyes for any signs that you were listening to understand, and not just listening to rebuttal.

“We grew up together Carmen, if you didn’t want me in your life anymore you could’ve just told me.” You felt the telltale signs of tears welling up in your eyes, your eyes stinging as you fought hard to keep them from spilling.

“It wasn’t like that.” He scoffed his irritation becoming ever present, it wasn’t you he was irritated with, it was the fact that he knew exactly what he needed to tell you, wanted to tell you but he wouldn’t allow himself to. Carmy didn’t know how to express what was running through his mind right now without becoming a stuttering mess as his mind raced too fast for his mouth to keep up with.

You let out a sardonic laugh “That’s exactly what it felt like Carmen. I’m not gonna pretend to act like I know what your life is like right now, but the least you could do is shoot me a text letting me know you’re okay. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be consistent Carm, I jus-I care about you so much that it hurts.” You choked the words out not knowing how you could get him to understand how much his actions affected you.

“I mean, I know we went our separate ways, and I promise I’m not desperately trying to hang off you or some shit Carm, but yo-you just left me, and I was in a whole new place alone, and I felt like such a fucking fraud. And I needed you Carmen, I fucking needed you and…and the crazy part is you got every single one of my calls and texts, I fucking know you did.” You were ranting now and maybe it wasn’t fair to Carmy to drop this on him all at once, but what else were you supposed to do when you knew things would just resort to the way they’ve been once the holiday season was over and you were both back on your respective sides of the country.

“Listen, Baby, I’m sorry I kno-,”

“You promised Carmen,” The words slipped through your lips in a whisper so quiet it was almost lost to the wind. “You promised you would call me Carmen, and I know that may not have meant much to you, but it meant everything to me, you meant everything to me Carmen.” The wind had taken your voice and ran with it, Mother Nature doing her best to soothe the two broken souls before her.

Carmen closed his eyes tilting his head back to the sky, it was selfish, he knew it was the moment the thought crossed his mind, but those were the last words he wanted to ever hear from you. He took a second to try and collect the dozens of thoughts racing through his mind. Hoping to land on what he thought you wanted to hear, anything to soothe the indigestion starting to burn through his chest.

He came back to reality, eyes no longer looking in your direction, posture closed off signifying he was done with this conversation whether you agreed or not. He dropped the cigarette he had been holding the time wasted burning it down to the bud before taking a fresh one out of his pocket, cigarette lazily held between his lips as he brought his lighter up to the stick.

"He been treating you right?” He questioned head turning in your direction, but eyes never quite landing on your figure, as if he couldn’t stand to look at you.

And there it was exactly what you didn’t want to happen: Carmen's incessant need to avoid the tough conversations that he couldn’t help but make everyone else’s problem. You hastily patted your eyes to ensure any remaining tears didn’t make an appearance. “The fuck are you on about Carmen?” You snapped, having lost all desire to keep your emotions under control. No longer holding yourself back to appease whatever good nature was still between the two of you.

He gestured with his free hand back towards the house while sucking in a deep breath of tobacco and nicotine. “You and Mikey, I mea-it's just you two seemed pretty close earlier is all.” He chanced a glance in your direction, his soft blue eyes catching your stare before promptly turning away.

It took you a minute to digest what he was insinuating, a little offended that he deduced you to being Mikey’s bed warmer, all from whatever he thought he had been seeing this evening. If you were a violent person, you might’ve slapped him. You weren’t fucking Mikey and even if you were that was no longer Carmy’s business, he couldn’t just pick and choose the moments he wanted to make an appearance and provide input in your life.

You chuckled although the sound came out dry, no traces of humor to be found. You turned to Carmy and closed the distance between the two of you, snatching the cigarette from between his lips. You dropped it to the ground before stomping it out under the toe of your boot, “These things kill asshole.” You said before sauntering back towards the house, stopping a moment and turning to face him again, “And if I wanted to fuck your brother I don’t think I’d need your permission, Carmen.” With that, you entered the house leaving Carmy to stew with his thoughts and hopefully come to the conclusion that he made a bad situation even worse.

Carmy stayed outside a little while longer, he knew it was immature of him to avoid the conversation you wanted to have. He felt like a jackass for staring you in your face as he made the decision to disregard your feelings so easily. He kept telling himself he wasn’t a bad guy, a loop with those words playing in his brain as he did his best to convince himself. But what sort of fucking masochist breaks their own heart to escape the realities of a life he’ll never have. You were right, Carmen was an asshole but he knew he couldn’t continue to allow himself to want something as marvelous as love with you, he just wasn’t deserving. Not that he thought Mikey was any better of an option, but if it kept you in his life so be it.

You made your way through the house, looking for any space that you could compose yourself in, not wanting to ruin anyone else’s Christmas with your unpleasant mood. You did your best to quickly walk past the room containing the Fak Brothers and Steven. Any other time you would have sat comfortably next to Stevie as raptly intrigued as he was with the Fak family shenanigans. But in those potential instances, you also wouldn’t have been overthinking every decision you made regarding your friendship with Carmen and wondering why you were no longer good enough.

Continuing your journey through the house narrowly avoiding guests as you went, you quickly backtracked as you noticed a familiar back blankly facing the pantry. You felt bad for even letting the thought cross your mind, but you weren’t sure if Mikey was the right person to seek comfort in, especially after the accusation Carmy had just laid at your feet.

It was ridiculous actually to let something Carmy said have such an impact on you within such a short amount of type. It was even more ridiculous to allow his immaturity to overshadow the bond that had been carefully curated between you and Mikey prior to his youngest brother’s absence and now.

You let out a defeated sigh stepping slightly forward to wrap you arms around Mikey’s torso, cheek settling into the space between his shoulder blades, “Your little brother is a fucking idiot.” You murmured, voice slightly muffled by Mikey’s back.

A rough laugh escaped through Mikey’s lips as he patted your hand resting on his stomach, “Sure is when it comes to you ain’t he?” He questioned removing himself from your hold to lean his back against the pantry doorway. You followed suit standing opposite of him, the two of you now face to face.

You took in Mikey’s features, brows pinching together at the far away look in his eyes. It always amazed you that no matter if Mikey was physically in front of you, there was always a chance he was mentally somewhere else. That was the one similarity you could pick out between the two Berzatto boys, while Mikey’s charisma did a good job of hiding it, Carmen’s awkwardness put it on full display.

You reached out tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, “How are you doing Mikey?” You were genuinely curious, it's not like you were oblivious to Mikey’s many faults, the difference was you didn’t think he was a lost cause like everyone else. And as hard as it was to admit it to yourself you would never address the fact that you romanticized who Mikey was as a person. The Mikey you knew as a little girl was still the same Mikey you saw standing before you, and maybe he had a few more demons in his closet than you had been aware of back then, but it felt egregiously wrong to align your Mikey with the boogeyman everyone else made him out to be.

Mikey laughed swatting your hand away, “It's the most wonderful time of the fucking year Baby, how do you think I’m doing?” Mikey’s adversity in answering your question wasn’t lost upon you, but you knew Mikey wasn’t one to openly talk about how he was feeling. If avoidance was what you were gonna get, you knew there was no chance of this conversation going anywhere. You were 0 for 2 with the Berzatto brothers this evening it seemed.

You sighed, knocking your head against the wall you were leaning on, eyes shifting downwards as you prepared yourself for the topic you were about to bring up, “Can I ask you a question, Mikey? And can you be serious with me for one minute?” You pleaded needing someone to validate the way you had been feeling since your less-than-enlightening conversation with Carmy.

Mikey nodded eyebrows pinching together, a lick of concern tickling down his spine. Mikey knew you just as well as he knew his actual siblings. Albeit the age difference Mikey grew up right there with you, watching you grow into the person you were now, learning your mannerisms, understanding you as a person. You hadn’t asked for it but Mikey made it his mission to know you just as well as the younger Berzatto’s, if you were gonna be tossed into his eccentric family due to circumstance, he would do his best to treat you like a bonus little sister.

The slight nod of his head queuing you to reveal your query, “Do you ever feel, I don’t know, like inadequate?” You questioned scratching your nails against the material of your skirt, too consumed by the idea that Mikey would write your odd inquiry off. “Like sometimes it’s just exhausting to even fucking exist and-and there’s no rule book for this shit, but sometimes even your absolute best will never be good enough ya know? Like no matter how hard you try it doesn’t fucking matter because you’re just gonna die someday anyway?”

You chanced a glance at Mikey hoping he wouldn’t take your very real insecurities as a joke. The blank stare in his eyes greeted you by telling you a different story. Mikey was a hard person to read, and though you believed you had cracked the code to his complex soul, it was in moments like these that you knew you couldn’t be more wrong.

The sudden movement of Mikey’s hands reaching up to cup your face and jerk your head closer to him almost causes you to lose balance. “Why the fuck would you say that?” The tone in Mikey’s voice caused you to try and shrink into yourself. “This got anything to do with my shithead little brother?”

Your eyes cast downwards not prepared for the intensity in Mikey’s eyes, your lips parting to respond before abruptly being cut off by Mikey, “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you, Baby. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His hands redirected your gaze to his with a more gentle approach.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling stupid for even talking like this in front of Mikey, “I’m not sure, to be honest. I talked to Carmy, and it went as well as you would guess. And I just, I don’t know, I guess I just got lost in my head. And work has been so stressful lately, I’m even considering moving back here.” You shook your head from his grip, “It's just nonsense, don’t worry about me. I think seeing Carmy after so long just made me spiral.” You offered him a small smile hoping it was as reassuring as you thought it was.

Mikey pulled you into a hug chin resting atop your head. The scene was oddly reminiscent of the hug you shared hours ago on the porch. Mikey’s hugs were like magic, a bear hug so comforting and warm, his arms made you feel safe, and protected. You felt a little selfish for constantly dumping your problems on Mikey, but he had become your closest confidant, you wish the same could be said about you from Mikey’s point of view, but you were already lucky enough that he shared what little nuggets of the inner working of his life that he did with you.

Mikey pulled back hands settling on your shoulders to get a good look at you, “Don’t let me hear you say shit like that again alright Baby?” You nodded the corner of your lips curving slightly as Mikey played the role of big brother and began scolding you. “You’re a great fucking girl alright, and don’t even worry about Carmy, you’ve got a heart of fucking gold. You’re like that motherfucker with the gold touch alright, and I need you Baby okay? I need you and that means something right, you’re fucking adequate these fuckers in this house wish they were you.”

You laughed the melodic sound filling the space between the two of you, “King Midas.”

Mikey’s hands dropped from their position on your shoulders frowning at you, “Who the fuck is that?”

“The motherfucker with the gold touch,” You joked.

“Alright, you fucking smart ass.” Mikey reached up to flick your nose, a small gesture carried on from childhood.

The two of you stood in the other’s presence for what felt like forever, no words needing to be passed between you. You and Mikey enjoy being in each other's company, using the pantry as a place of solace before returning to reality. The sound of Donna’s voice yelling about saltines and Carmy’s responding yell breaks the peaceful moment between you both. You glanced in the pantry spotting the saltines Carmy would be coming to acquire a small sigh leaving your lips. If Carmy was going to avoid a much-needed conversation, you would just avoid him. Sure it was petty but you wanted him to somehow get a taste of the suffering his lack of effort caused you.

“Well, this has been fun, but I should make myself scarce before Carmen accuses me of fucking you in the pantry of your family home.” You shot Mikey a sarcastic smile preparing to find some other hole to hide in before family dinner commenced.

“My little brother is a fucking idiot,” Mikey mumbled moving out of the way to allow you to pass by. You laughed glad that someone agreed with astute observation skills. Deciding to check on Tiff you made your way to the stairs before stopping at the landing.

“Hey.” You turned back to Mikey catching his attention for a brief moment, if the raise of his eyebrows was any conformation. “I love you brother bear.” You shot him a wink then proceeded to continue your previously decided journey.

Mikey watched your figure disappear up the stairs, a solemn smile resting on his lips. The idea that you had at one point harbored such unnerving thoughts scared him. But what scared him, even more, was he knew exactly what you were talking about

a/n: so i’m a liar : )

i fully intended for this to be the last chapter of the christmas episode but my creative juices said no. alas here is chapter 2, but mark my words the next chapter will be the end of the christmas arc because baby i’m exhausted. please shower me with feedback (constructive criticism), it really helps feed my creativity. and while i would love likes/comments/reblogs please interact with my work however you feel comfortable, my ask box is always open 💜

also also this might be a little self-indulgent idk, i have the “existing is exhausting” convo like every weak : (

i just tagged whoever commented on chapter 1, so if you didn’t want to be on the tag list sorry! but if you would like to be tagged in the next update please let me know!!

strikethrough means i was unable to tag you : (

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto angst #michael berzatto x reader #the bear fic #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊#[aiekoy] 2 #fem reader #the bear x reader

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nat-20s · 4 months

Text

Some of you may know that I'm an absolute fucking sucker for a weight gain as healing narrative so I'm applying that to the 14th Doctor babey!! He's finally well rested and well fed he's not quite literally running himself ragged. I think in the first year or so of living with Donna and having, you know, consistent meals he does start to lose some of that gauntness. His cheeks start to round out, his ribs stop poking through his undershirts, he no longer needs 3-4 layers of clothing to fill out his silhouette. Donna does see the change and doesn't make a comment, but it really hits her when she hugs him and he feels more there. His body changes in a way that shows that Donna has found him again and treated him with the warm sentiment of "I love you. I want us both to eat well", and isn't that such a wonderful way to change?

#doctor who #donna noble #tennant doctor #fourteenth doctor #i am so fucking soft lad #TO BE LOVED IS TO BE CHANGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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zorosdimples · 7 months

Text

CHAPPED

pairing ༄ kakashi x gn!reader

warnings ༄ slightly suggestive, reader and kakashi are in an established relationship, and there is an implied age gap. this is mostly fluffy fluff (who am i?)

word count ༄ 1129

notes ༄ happy belated birthday to the man who started it all! my first 2d love <3 dedicating this to my kakashi girlies: @honeylavendr, @strawberrystepmom, @purpleskyvenus @rookie98writes and @delirious-donna!

it’s late—too late to be up on a work night, you think as you glance out the window, curtains not yet drawn closed. the moon is suspended high in the black satin sky, countless stars twinkling in adoration, graced by her brilliance.

diffused lamplight and flickering candle flames illuminate your bedroom, their warmth bathing everything in a dusky orange. your nightstand acts as a makeshift workstation, tools at the ready: rose water spray, moisturizer, lip treatment, and a headband.

your boyfriend pads out of the bathroom shirtless, dark pajama pants slung dangerously low on his narrow hips. “all done,” kakashi announces before smoothing a large hand down your back and pressing his still-wet lips to your forehead.

“i told you to pat your skin dry after you washed your face,” you pout, wiping away the chilly droplets that prickle your skin in the wake of his kiss.

kakashi settles on the edge of your shared bed, feet firmly planted on the plush rug. when you first moved in with him, you insisted the rug would feel cozy under your feet on a cold morning—a stark contrast to the unforgiving hardwood floors of your apartment. as usual, you were correct.

your comfort is more important to kakashi than anything else; a truth he probably shouldn’t admit as hokage.

“i did my best, love,” he hums, pulling you in by the hips, lithe fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts to knead the supple flesh.

you grip kakashi’s strong shoulders to keep your balance, willing yourself not to melt into him, knees trembling as he nuzzles your neck. his day-old silvery stubble grazes your throat and sets your nerves afire.

“can’t we just go to bed?” he murmurs, chapped lips moving hotly against your skin. your pulse thrums under his heady breath.

“kashi, you promised,” you whine—overdramatic? yes, but you’re eager to pamper him. “the sooner you cooperate, the sooner this is over,” you tease, pushing yourself away from him to swipe something from the nightstand. the ninja cocks a pale eyebrow when he sees the headband: cheap and fuzzy with a pair of pink and black cat ears.

ridiculous.

“to keep your hair out of your face,” you explain with a mischievous smirk as kakashi rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, tolerating your antics. he opens his mouth to speak, but clamps it shut when you comb your fingers through his unruly hair, pushing the snowy mane out of his face. gently, you slide the headband in place. tufts of hair poke out in front of his ears, his expression that of a disgruntled cat.

your lighthearted giggle has his slate irises fixed on your carefree radiance as he prods (voice betraying his amusement), “what’s so funny?”

you shake your head and press a delicate kiss to his cheek before grabbing the rose water spray. “nothing. you just look cute.”

“i think you’re the only person who would describe me as cute,” he chuckles, sharp incisors glinting in the low light. you think of contesting his statement, but his naïveté is endearing.

at your instruction, kakashi’s eyelids flutter shut. you spritz the rose water onto his face, the refreshing mist coating his skin, beading on his ivory eyelashes and at his cupid’s bow. you then pop the lid off of your moisturizer bottle, pumping some of the product onto your fingertips.

kakashi doesn’t ask what all the steps mean, nor do you feel the need to explain. he has watched you do your skincare routine day and night more times than he can count. he knows each product you use by name, what purpose they serve, and the order in which they need to be applied. it’s not like you asked him to memorize all of this; it’s just a habit of his—soaking in every detail about you, what you care about, and what you do.

as you massage the buttery moisturizer into his skin, your boyfriend keeps his thoughtful gaze on you: the furrow of your focused brow, the way your front teeth catch your bottom lip, the slight flare of your nostrils. your touch is featherlight as you rub tender circles of the product all over his face, careful to not get too close to his eyes, taking it up to his hairline and down his neck.

satisfied with your work, you rub the remnants of the moisturizer into your hands. kakashi seizes the opportunity to pull you into his lap and guide your legs to wrap securely around his waist.

“what?” you squeak in surprise.

“what?” kakashi parrots back, drinking in the alluring metamorphosis of your features from shock to annoyance to amusement.

you cup his face—large in your soft embrace—admiring the beauty of the man you love. “your skin is perfect, it’s not fair,” you playfully huff, smoothing your fingertips across his high cheekbones and down the distinct cant of his nose.

kakashi barks out a laugh, falling on the sheets to his back. you follow his lead, leaning over him, hair framing you both in privacy. “i’m pushing forty, my love. my skin is nowhere near perfect.” one of his scarred palms cradles your head while the other traces down your bare arm to rest on your waist. “you have youth on your side,” he rumbles, uncharacteristically wistful.

he isn’t wrong. there’s the jagged scar that bisects his left eye, a sigil borne of recklessness. kakashi once lived as though he had no future; life was merely death’s antechamber—a brutal purgatory of violence and meaningless suffering. he lived with no regard of himself as a person, but rather as a vessel of retribution, a tool to be hidden in the shadows away from light and life.

now, kakashi has proof of life, etchings across his flesh to mark the passage of time: his gambles and failures, his missteps and wrongs. but as your fingers map the planes of his face—fair skin, sinuous veins, laughter lines, dappled moles—you realize that his supposed shortcomings only make him more perfect to you. he’s just a man, after all. he’s fallible and flawed but he’s yours.

“your lips are a little chapped,” you warble as you reach over to the nightstand. you open up the jar of your favorite lip treatment and scoop out some of the balm using your pinkie.

as you move toward his mouth, kakashi catches your wrist, pearly eyes ablaze. without breaking eye contact, he leads your hand to his face, guiding it so that the product on your finger spreads across his lips. when your wrist falls, he wraps you in his arms, any space between your bodies too much to bear.

“you need to rub the balm in,” you whisper.

“sure,” your lover sighs before smearing his lips against your own.

#idk how i feel about this tbh #i tried but i’ve spent too long agonizing over the details #it’s messy but hopefully? full of love #hbd to my first love #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #naruto x reader #kakashi fluff #naruto fluff #kakashi hatake fluff #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #naruto

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misseviehyde · 29 days

Text

THE PASSENGER

Nervously biting her lip, Donna looked around the fetish store she had accidentally wandered into and desperately looked for the exit.

She didn't know what had drawn her into Evie's Emporium in the first place, but now she was inside she could see it wasn't her kind of shop at all. The small and mousy young woman blushed bright red as she walked past a rack of sex toys. She was famously insecure and easily embarrassed, so this shop was her idea of Hell.

She needed a dress to wear tonight for dinner with her boyfriends boss, but none of the tight latex and fetish outfits she could see hanging from racks would do. Everything in here looked like something some sort of super confident slut might wear, not her style at all.

Donna was tiny, flatchested and average looking. She had a very submissive personality - in fact her friends all mocked her for being such a pushover. They called her 'The Passenger' because she'd pretty much just go along with what anyone else wanted.

As she headed towards the exit she passed a rack with a naughty pink latex dress hanging from it. It was clearly designed for a tall, busty, dominating sort of woman. Donna's hands made contact with the material as she passed.

*ZAP*

Donna stopped. She urged her body to move, to keep walking, but to her horror it didn't seem to be responding to her commands. Instead her body was now moving by itself, like someone else was in control.

She felt herself pick up the latex dress and her body language instantly change. Her back straightened, her stride became more confident and unabashed. She felt herself walk over to the counter and buy the latex dress from the smirking blonde woman on the counter.

"You can get changed in the back if you want babe."

Donna walked to the dressing room at the back of the store. Keeping one hand on the dress, she struggled out of her clothing - even stripping off her underwear - then she began to clamber into the tight, stretchy pink latex.

"Ohhhh fuckkkk yesssss," she heard herself moan as her body throbbed with erotic energy. Donna's flat chest itched as she yanked the straps of the dress over her shoulders.

"Mmmmmmmh, bigger... yesssss, make them bigger," she heard herself say as her chest exploded with pleasure. With a delicious sensation of power and confidence, Donna felt her breasts grow. They swelled up, big firm and round on her chest - growing from A cups to DD's in a matter of seconds.

Her pale skin tanned to a healthy rosy glow and with a stretching sucking sound, the latex dress tightened deliciously around her body as her flat ass pushed out into a big round booty and she grew nearly six inches in height.

She was now an Amazoness and she looked almost unrecognisible as she shook her normally tightly bound hair loose and it fell into elegantly styled mane all the way down her back.

"Mmmmh, that's SO much better. I feel like a brand, new, bitch..."

Donna adjusted her dress, enjoying her new tits yet still not in control of her body. She was just a passenger in her own head. She felt herself apply more makeup and saw she now had long sexy pink acrylic nails the same colour as her dress. Her sensible flat shoes had transformed into six inch pink heels and with a clop, she turned on her stiletto's and easily walked out of the store with a strut.

****

Donna desperately tried to fight for control of her body, but it simply wouldn't obey her. Somehow, touching the dress had made her lose control to some alternative version of herself.

In her car, Donna hiked up her dress. She wasn't surprised to see her pussy was now completely waxed smooth and a pink princess butt plug the same colour as her dress now twinkled in her perfect ass.

"Fuck yessss," she hissed rubbing her clit and touching her breasts as she began to masturbate in the car-park. Reaching into her hand-bag, Donna found a small bullet vibrator and switching it to maximum, slid it into her pussy.

Then, with a wicked smile she pulled her dress down and already cumming, pushed the accelerator down and drove away.

In her own mind Donna screamed and drooled as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body and she orgasmed harder than she had in years...

***

The restaurant was busy and all eyes were magnetically drawn to Donna as she strode through to the table. She had bought a fur coat to wear over her sexy dress and expensive gold and diamond jewellery now hung round her pretty neck and on her slender wrists.

She looked amazing and her boyfriend George's mouth dropped open as his boss Damien stood up with a grin and kissed her hand.

"George, you never told me your girlfriend was so beautiful. She's... not... how you described her."

"D...Donna... h... how?" stammered George.

Ignoring him, Donna felt her body sit at the table and lean forward so her massive breasts were now prominently displayed. "I'd like Champagne to begin with baby, then I think the Lobster."

"B...but babe, they're the most expensive things on the menu."

"Exactly," purred Donna as she leant forward to give Damian a better view of her tits.

This was going to be fun.

***

The ladies bathroom was quiet except for the sucking sound coming from the stalls.

Damian groaned as Donna knelt before him, his big dick in her mouth. She sucked and slurped, her head moving back and forth as she used her slutty hands to massage his balls and the shaft of his cock.

In her head Donna felt shame, but also excitement. She should be appalled at betraying her lovely boyfriend, yet somehow even as a passenger she was loving every minute of this. Cucking her boyfriend was kind of hot, especially now she was such a hot bitch.

"Ohhhh fuck, George is gonna realise what we're up to if we're gone much longer..." gasped Damian.

"Mmmmh, fuck that loser," giggled Donna as she looked up at her new lover with glee. "He doesn't deserve me anyway. Let's sneak out of the back and go to a hotel. I wanna see what this cock can really do..."

Damian grinned and helped her up. "Fuck yessss."

***

Switching off her phone to ignore the increasingly desperate calls from George, Donna tossed it onto the floor and resumed her sucking.

Damian lay on the hotel bed, his huge cock now fully engorged as she sucked and slurped the length. Donna could feel her body moving by itself, she had never been this confident at sex, but now she was a Goddess.

"Are you ready baby?" she purred stradling him. Her dress was pulled down to reveal her massive tits and hiked up so her tight pussy was visible. Hovering over Damian's cock, she slowly lowered herself down and used her hands to guide Damian's big cock inside herself.

"FUCKKKKKK," she moaned happily. "You're so much bigger than that loser."

Grinding her hips and moaning, her big tits bouncing like a pornstar - Donna began to ride her lover. She had never felt so alive...

***

Donna opened her eyes and groaned. She lifted a hand to her face and then gasped. Her hand... it was obeying her.

Leaping to her feet, she looked around. She was in a hotel room. In the bed next to her lay Damian snoring and exhausted. The pink latex dress lay discarded on the floor. Her last memories had been of Damian tearing it off her body as he urgently thrust inside her and they both climaxed and passed out.

She looked down. Tiny tits, pale skin, normal body.

Oh God - what had she done?

Trembling she walked to the mirror and examined herself. No - she was definitely back to normal. The dress, it had turned her into a monster. A passenger in her own head. She had done such evil, slutty, bitchy things.

Mmmmmh and it had felt so fucking good.

Donna felt weak and unconfident. She was in control of her body again, but she realised how disapointing that was. She had enjoyed being strong, dominant and confident. She had enjoyed looking out through her own eyes whilst a more confident version of herself was in control.

She looked over at Damian. George was going to kill her. Their relationship was probably over. How was she going to handle this? She didn't know how.

Her eyes fell onto the pink dress.

Her pink dress...

***

Striding out of the hotel, an uncaring bitchy look on her face - Donna finished tying her sexy hair into a tight ponytail as she smoothed down her latex dress and revelled in the feeling of her powerful busty body.

Behind her eyes, Donna felt so happy. Her body knew exactly what it wanted and what to do. She would never need to think again, only enjoy the sensations of being a dominant bitch.

She was just the Passenger now and she fucking loved it.

THE END

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #magic dress #possession #passenger

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wannabeschyulersister · 9 months

Text

not a goodbye

“I think you should go to New York.”

Carmen had been staring at the huge whole on the side of the house for the last twenty minutes. The cold air rushing through didn’t phase him at all.

Your words did.

“What? Wh-what are you talking about?”

“I overheard your conversation with Michelle. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was actually trying to avoid Fak. He was trying to talk to me about those damn baseball cards.” You stepped closer to Carmen and he grabbed your hand.

“I’m not going.” He simply said.

“Carmen, look around. This is chaos. Your future is so fucking bright but this-“ you waved your free hand around, “isn’t what’s good for you mentally. I love your family and I know that you do too but you have to put yourself first.”

Carmen was a stubborn man. After the fiasco that you both witnessed at dinner, you hoped that he would take up Michelle on her offer.

“I can’t put myself first. I need to be here for my mom and Sugar. Michael is just- he’s a mess. I can’t just leave everyone. I can’t leave you. I won’t- I won’t leave you. I need you.” Carmen felt like he was beginning to panic at the sheer thought of being away from you.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat begin to pick up faster. “Carmy, we wouldn’t be saying goodbye for long. I’m graduating in a few months. I’m sure there’s plenty of marketing agencies I can apply to work at in New York. And I can visit you as much as I can.”

Carmy shook his head stubbornly, “No, (Y/n). Didn’t you see what just happened here? I can’t leave them like this!”

“You can’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders,” you told him, hoping he would listen to your words, “You can’t fix everyone’s problems especially if they don’t want to help themselves.”

Carmen rested his forehead against your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. He knew deep down you were right. In that moment, it all felt so overwhelming. His family was a disaster.

He didn’t want you to attend his family’s dinner tonight but he still invited you anyways. He knew how badly things could turn out to be but he selfishly wanted you there for support.

Carmen held your hand during dinner when everything went to hell. He honestly didn’t even know how he would’ve sat there and handled anything without you by his side.

You’d been around his family dozens of times. Sugar adored you. Michael made you feel welcomed as soon as he first met you. Donna was another story. You understood the situation and avoided her as much as you could. You were always respectful and spoke to her, but you didn’t go out of your way to strike a conversation. She had the ability to completely snap on someone and you didn’t want it to happen to you.

“You really think I should go?” He asked you softly.

“Yes, I do. I believe in your future. In our future. I know you’re going to do amazing things, Carmy.”

You felt him kiss your neck, “I love you.”

“And I love you. I know it’s going to be hard but we can make it.”

He nodded before kissing your lips, “We can make it.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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thecreatorfromgallifrey · 4 months

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Imagine

Retired 14, who bought their own home with their own money, and one bored afternoon where their rest of the family is busy and they are alone, they discover hair dye.

Like obviously they knew it existed, after billions of years of existence I do hope they know, but they never thought of it deeply.

And when Donna comes home, she comes across a doctor in the bathroom, wearing pyjamas bottom and an old white tank top now covered in ginger hair dye, struggling to put on the lotion on their head.

Turns out the doctor didn’t do active researches on the Internet before buying the hair dye, and now their hair only show traces of ginger when light hits, and they are very sad.

So Donna and Rose take the doctor to a good hairdresser, who bleach their hair to a dusty blonde color (and the doctor is panicking at the idea of someone random working on them like that and wondering if it’s safe) and then apply a ginger hair dye.

When the trio comes out of the hairdresser, the doctor is finally ginger, and also very very happy about it, and Donna knows they are about to jump on everyone they know to say « look im ginger now !! » and that for months until someone shut them up (which wont happen because everybody loves the doctor)

#doctor who #the doctor #fourteenth doctor #healing #our lil time lord with a mundane life #they/them #donna noble #rose noble #noble family #ginger #ginger doctor who #I just want them happy #fluff #just cute #I swear

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magiccath · 5 months

Text

Tokens of love

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the Doctor leaves you love notes around the TARDIS. At least... that's what you think they are

It started as a joke.

“If you’re the Doctor, do you have messy handwriting?” you asked with a laugh, leaning against him. You knew he wasn’t actually a doctor, but you wondered if the stereotype still applied.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he had deflected, ignoring your comment.

After that, he started leaving notes around the TARDIS. At first, you thought they were for him, reminders to do silly things like sleep and brush his teeth. Then, they started appearing in your spaces. You couldn’t read them, they were in circular Gallifreyan. Even if you were versed in the language, you doubted that you would be able to decipher them. The Doctor’s handwriting was awful. Worse than you could have ever imagined or joked about. The notes looked more like blind scribbles than actual messages.

“What is this?” you asked, holding up a bright yellow sticky note with some scribbles on it.

“A little note for you,” The Doctor grinned childishly, turning his attention back to the console in front of him.

“I don’t read Gallifreyan,” you laughed, sticking the note on the console.

“What does it say?”

The Doctor pulled his glasses out of his pocket and examined the note. You were surprised he could read his own handwriting. After a few moments of deliberation, he pulled back from the note.

“I love you.” He smiled, taking the glasses back off. You had no reason to assume it said anything else.

“Well in that case I’m taking this back,” you huffed, grabbing the note back. You tried your best to hide the blush creeping across your face.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling the Doctor in for a quick kiss. The action left the man flustered and blushing. Even now, your kisses could leave him speechless.

After that, the Doctor started leaving more and more notes for you to find. They were almost all different and scattered in all kinds of places about the TARDIS. By your bed, in your bathroom, buried in the library, or somewhere in the kitchen. Sometimes the Doctor would just give them to you directly, followed by a kiss.

After a while, you stopped asking what they said. It was always a variation of “I love you,” or something regarding how beautiful you were. You found it incredibly sweet, so you kept every single note.

Most of them were bright, colorful sticky notes with short but sweet messages. There were a couple that were longer, and you assumed those to be detailed love letters. The issue was, you couldn’t read a single one.

You had tried to learn circular Gallifreyan, a feat that proved harder than you thought. The Doctor refused to teach you, and there were hardly any books on the language in the TARDIS library. You picked up bits and pieces but they did little to advance your understanding of the strange messages.

Before long you had a thick stack of notes resting on your desk. A messy array of papers and sloppy writing. For the most part, you kept them in the order that you had discovered them. They were some of your most prized possessions. They came from the Doctor, which made them special enough.

One day, Donna was hanging out with you in your room on the TARDIS. These days, she spent more time with you than anyone else, usually mulling about your room. She’d burst in without as much as a knock on your door. You weren’t complaining - the company was nice.

Down the hall, the Doctor was busy with something in the control room. The constant clanging from down the hallway let you know he was still alive.

Donna poked her head out of your bathroom, holding up a note.

“Why do you have Bop It instructions on the bathroom mirror?” Donna asked, confused.

You furrowed your brow and grabbed the note from her. This was the first one he had ever left in English. His handwriting was still awful, but it was more legible than his Gallifreyan.

“What..?” you whispered, equally confused. You turned the note over multiple times in your hands, examining it from every angle. You even turned it upside down, hoping that might explain its peculiar nature. This certainly wasn’t a love note.

You grabbed your stack and flipped through them. It was undoubtedly from the Doctor, the handwriting was unmistakable, and the pen was the same.

“He said these were love notes,” you explained, gesturing to the stack. Donna raised an eyebrow, sending a disapproving look your way.

“I’m not sure Bop It instructions can classify as love notes,” she laughed.

“Maybe to him?” you defended, shrugging slightly. You’d never received love notes before, especially not from an alien, so you didn’t exactly know what to expect.

Donna made a contemplative noise, frowning at the notes. Without asking, she snatched the stack from your hands and stormed off down the hallway. “Donna!” you called after her, flabbergasted. You dashed after her, scared of whatever came next. Donna was not to be trifled with.

The redhead found the Doctor and shoved the stack in front of him. He looked up at her, extremely confused. Panting, you finally caught up with her.

“Read them,” she demanded, hands resting on her hips. You flashed her a disapproving glare, upset with her antics. You weren’t a confrontational person. If it was up to you, you would have just asked him about it.

“Start with that one,” Donna commanded, gesturing to the one she found.

The Doctor frowned down at his writing, realization striking him. He had messed up and written in English. His cover was blown.

“In my defense, the game is in English.” He winced, handing the note back to Donna. “Mix-ups are bound to happen,” he said casually, hoping to play it off.

“You wrote it on purpose?” you asked, confused. Was this his idea of a joke, or did he really think he was being romantic?

“Well…” the Doctor groaned, trying to find the best way to explain it. “I may have been writing you wikiHow articles.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated with his own idea of a joke.

“You said they were love notes?!”

The Doctor blushed, averting his gaze. You rolled your eyes. Leave it up to your stupid space boyfriend to leave you wikiHow articles and call them love notes.

“Read them to me,” you said simply, sitting down calmly. “In order,” you added.

The Doctor scrunched his face like the idea was painful, but complied. He couldn’t figure out how to talk his way out of this, so it was best to play along.

“This ought to be good,” Donna laughed, sitting down next to you. The Doctor flipped through the notes, trying to find some of the first ones he had left you. He picked up a bright yellow sticky note, the first one he had ever given you. The one he had claimed read “I love you.”

“How to Grow Cabbage,” he whispered, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it. You cleared your throat and raised your eyebrows disapprovingly. The Doctor blushed and repeated the note louder.

You and Donna exchanged a look of confusion, wondering why the Doctor would leave you such a note.

He turned a darker shade of red as he continued to flip through the notes, looking for the next one.

“How to Keep Cats Out of Your Yard.”

Donna scoffed from next to you. You hid your own smile with your hand, finding the title both useless and comical. The Doctor furrowed his brow at your reactions and continued.

He found a stray note in the pile and frowned at it, clearly upset by its contents.

“I didn’t write this one,” he claimed, eyes wide. You moved closer to him, trying to read the note over his shoulder.

“What does it say?”

“How to Be Less Talkative,” he mumbled, embarrassed.

“Oi!” Donna laughed, flashing the man a disapproving look. Behind him, you giggled, finding his defensiveness cute.

“I swear, that wasn’t me!” the Doctor argued, looking up at you with pleading eyes. He was terrified you would be offended or mad at him. Instead, you seemed to find the situation hilarious.

“You talk more than both of us!” Donna laughed, pointing at the Doctor.

He furrowed his brow and groaned, “I didn’t write it!” He argued. You smiled warmly, enjoying the banter between your friends.

The TARDIS thrummed behind the Doctor, the sound barely audible over the laughter.

“Meddler,” he growled, presuming the ship had left the message for you. He frowned at the note in his hands, hoping the ship didn’t just ruin his relationship with you.

“It’s ok.” You smiled, reassuring the Doctor. You sat back down next to him, taking the note from his hands and setting it aside. You picked out a larger letter from the pile, one that you had tried for weeks to decipher. With a smile, you handed it to him, “What does this one say?”

“How to Eliminate Monsters Under the Bed,” he said with a seriousness that felt out of place.

“Is this your idea of a love letter?” Donna teased, taking the paper from his hands. She squinted at it, but still couldn’t read it. It just looked like scribbles to her.

“It’s useful!” he argued, almost pouting.

You tilted your head in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.

“It could save your life someday,” he said earnestly, looking you in the eye. You genuinely couldn’t tell if he was being serious. The Doctor could say crazy things and mean them. You looked over at Donna, hoping she might have some insight into his truthfulness, but she looked equally confused. Deciding to move on, you handed the Doctor another sticky note.

“How to Shower With a Lemon.”

You squinted, trying to process the words coming out of the Doctor’s mouth.

“You made that one up,” Donna laughed, waving him away.

“Lemons are actually good for your skin,” the Doctor stated. He continued on about their benefits, but if you were being honest you got a bit lost. He had a habit of going off on rambling tangents, and quite often you got lost in his rushed words. Judging by Donna’s far-off look, she was equally lost.

“It’s not that unusual,” he shrugged, signaling the end of his tangent. You smiled and nodded, pretending that you understood any of the words he had just said.

“This is a good one.” He smiled, picking up a neon green sticky note from the pile.

“How to Calculate Pi by Throwing Frozen Hot Dogs.”

“There’s no way you didn’t make that one up,” Donna argued, determined she was right.

“It’s a real thing!” The Doctor frowned.

“That’s something straight from your whacky Martian brain!”

“For the last time,” the Doctor groaned, running his hands down his face, “I’m not from Mars.”

“He had to have made it up,” Donna said, turning to you. You shrugged, completely unsure.

While your friends continued to argue, you took the liberty of looking it up. Sure enough, it was a real thing. Upon further research, you found that multiple people were responsible for writing and editing the article. Neither the Doctor nor any of his aliases were listed.

“It’s real.” You smiled sadly, handing your phone over to Donna. You watched as her eyes danced across the screen. A crinkle formed between her eyes, the cogs turning endlessly in her brain

“You used multiple accounts to cover up the fact that you wrote it,” She glared.

“I would never!” he gasped, clutching his chest.

Donna rolled her eyes, clearly not believing him. To be fair, it did seem like something he would do.

You smiled to yourself, having found their argument both entertaining and adorable.

When Donna wasn’t looking, the Doctor winked at you. You frowned, confused as to what he was hinting.

Ignoring you, he picked up the next note and read it out loud, “How to Sneak Your Cat Into Work.” He continued to flip through the notes before finding the next one.

“How to Apologize to a Cat.”

“For someone who dislikes cats so much, you sure did leave me a lot of notes regarding them…” you pointed out, leaning into the Doctor’s shoulder. From the corner, you heard Donna let out a little laugh. The man ignored you two and continued on.

“How to Flush a British Toilet.” He smiled at the note, clearly proud of himself.

“We end up in Britain a lot,” he explained to you with a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes, “I know how to flush a toilet, love.”

“How to Be Random.”

“You’re one to talk!” you laughed, playfully shoving the Doctor. Donna burst into laughter, pointing at the Doctor. He looked between the two of you, bewildered and confused.

“I have a reason for everything I do.” He frowned, upset at the accusation. “I don’t just do things on a whim.”

The last comment made you and Donna lose it. You almost fell out of your chair with laughter, which only seemed to upset the Doctor even more.

“I think your laughter is more than displaced,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

You tried to reel in your laughter to comfort him, but his grumpy face only made you laugh more.

Ignoring you, he started to rattle off more notes.

“How to Listen to Music, How to High Five, How to Walk.”

“Doctor,” you started to ease your laughter, “We don’t walk much, we always seem to be running for our lives.” You smiled, proud of your quip.

“Well, you do waddle a little,” the Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, continuing on before you could protest too much.

“How to Breathe.”

“Wait,” Donna interrupted, “that’s a normal human reflex.” You nodded, agreeing with her comment.

“Seems like a fairly useless article to me,” you added.

The Doctor looked warily between you and Donna, his eyes lingering on the redhead. When you turned to laugh with her, he attempted to hide one of the longer letters. Catching his motion from the corner of your eye, you stopped him.

“What’s this one?” you asked, snagging the letter from his hands. The Doctor avoided eye contact, debating various possible responses. He settled on the truth.

“How to Be Human.”

“I am human,” you laughed, clearly finding the letter a joke. The Doctor didn’t share your amusement. He stared at you with a curious expression, almost like he was studying you. He made a small humming noise that suggested he didn’t believe you.

“I am!” you repeated with an uncomfortable laugh. The Doctor looked between you and Donna again before giving you a knowing look. He presumed your reluctance was due to the other woman in the room, though he didn’t believe your protests.

“How to Become a Philosopher,” the Doctor read, looking around the room for reactions. Much to his dismay, you and Donna remained silent. You were still reeling from the last one.

The Doctor frowned at the remaining notes, desperately not wanting to read them. He rushed through them, hoping to go too fast for you to understand.

“How to Romance a Man, How to Get a Man to Marry You, How to Apply For a Marriage Licence in Alaska, How to Dress For a Wedding, How to Stop a Wedding, How to-”

You cut the Doctor off, “I’m sorry,” you laughed. “Are you trying to say something?”

The Doctor looked at you innocently, as if he hadn’t just tried to avoid the whole ordeal.

“The last five notes mentioned marriage.”

“Six,” Donna corrected, counting them off on her fingers.

“Are you trying to…” you thought about the last one, “Stage a wedding?” you asked.

Then it occurred to you. Maybe the Doctor was trying to propose to you. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about marrying the Doctor. You’d been dating for years, and you loved the man more than you had ever loved anything else. You couldn’t imagine your life without him. You had just assumed that was never something he wanted for the two of you. Franky, you were fine with it. You didn’t need a ring to know the Doctor loved you, he showed you that in his own ways.

“Or are you trying to propose to me?”

Now it was Donna’s turn to look shocked. Her gaze darted between the two of you, her mouth hanging open in shock. The Doctor turned bright red and averted his gaze.

“Because it definitely needs work,” you added, scrunching your nose. “How to Stop a Wedding is kind of misleading.”

Donna was still staring at you, a little too shocked for words.

“Is that what you were trying to ask me?” you clarified, hoping you hadn’t read too much into it.

“Maybe,” the Doctor said quietly. Donna let out a pained squeak.

“Maybe I’d say yes.”

The Doctor lit up. One of his signature grins took over his face and he jumped up from his seat.

“Really?” he asked. You nodded, you’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around your waist, excitedly lifting you off of the floor. You threw your head back, happily laughing. The Doctor planted kisses all over your face, placing his lips anywhere he could. Finally, he settled on your lips.

“You’re getting married!” Donna finally processed, throwing her hands up in excitement. The Doctor pulled away from you with a smile, gently setting you back down.

“We’re getting married,” you giggled, hardly able to contain your excitement.

“We need to get to the space registry!” Donna clapped excitedly, already moving towards the TARDIS console.

“Marriage isn’t even a concept in many civilizations why would there be-”

“Shut it, spaceman,” Donna snapped, gesturing to the TARDIS. The Doctor rolled his eyes but complied.

“I still have my wedding dress if you need it,” she said, elbowing the Doctor in the side but looking at you.

“It doesn’t have pockets,” he grumbled, remembering the first time he met Donna. Donna rolled her eyes, clearly unbothered by the idea.

“Do you remember your wedding?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in disapproval. Donna scrunched up her face, a clear sign of disgust.

“Don’t remind me.”

You giggled, also remembering the first time you met Donna.

“We can get pockets added,” you reassured, taking the Doctor’s hand. He smiled down at you and nodded, letting go of your hand to pilot the TARDIS.

After a short, fairly smooth flight, the ship landed with its usual thump. You wobbled on your feet, but the Doctor wrapped an arm around you for support.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“Chiswick, Donna’s house.”

“What? Why?” She frowned, confused.

“I figure Wilfred is going to want to come, and we need to pick up that dress.”

Donna nodded, understanding. The three of you started to walk out of the TARDIS.

“We also need to go to a tailor,” he added, grabbing his coat from its spot by the door.

“For pockets?” Donna laughed, grabbing her own coat.

“Obviously,” he said, “I’m not walking around without pockets. Plus, it might need some alterations,” he continued, gesturing to his long frame in comparison to Donna’s.

Donna stopped in her tracks, eyes practically bulging out of her head. She shook her head, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Behind them, you giggled lightly. Regaining her thought process she opened her mouth,

“I’m sorry… what?!”

#10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #the doctor #Donna noble #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #david tennant

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miracledarling · 1 year

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maybe YOU need to change...

[an loa rant, ⚠️blunt, honest not sugarcoating !!]

i usually try to be nicer BUT i just needed to put this out there.

i love answering asks and helping everyone. i love hearing when people get success. but sometimes i get the same asks over and over again and I'm repeating myself over and over again. and then i see a lot of bloggers getting the same ask. honestly, this is the law of assumption. it's nothing more than assumptions creates reality.

baby, if u feel tired, take a break. practice self care and pamper urself. if ur gonna constantly scroll on tumblr or whatever, then that's on u. if ur donna decide to overconsume instead of apply, instead of deciding that your desires are already yours, well i can't do anything about that. only you can change yourself. only u can change ur reality. nobody else can manifest for u. only if you change yourself first, you 3d will change. it's the law. aint nothing can be done about that. either apply and get ur desires or do nothing and get nothing.

and literally manifesting should take no effort. it's just thinking and accepting and knowing that it's already happened. if ur too lazy to even do that, then what are you gonna do? u didn't even need to move a finger to do this and yet you decide it's too much "work" for you? you keep copy and pasting the same ask to 9999 bloggers and that aint enough for you? you keep asking for "motivation" when you wouldn't even put in the work? and this "work" you refuse to put in doesn't even require lifting a damn finger? what?? i don't understand then. you gotta put in that "work" before you even feel motivated. trust me, you won't feel motivated until you get started and start applying and get towards ur goal. get off ur damn phone already. please. at least go outside and touch grass.

sweetie, you don't need to put ur life on hold either. literally give urself a break. let go of those non-existent "doubts." go take a walk, do some self care, spend time with friends and family. enjoy life while manifesting. if 3d circumstances are tough, be tougher. don't let it break you down. use ur imagination. take care of responsibilities in the 3d but persist in ur assumptions still. oh my god, what else is there that u need to know? please apply it alright.

i wrote this in this ask but i feel like i should put it in a separate post.

get off tumblr stop reading this info u already know what to do u don't need bloggers to give u advice or motivate u. u need to change and control urself. i keep getting the same asks again and again and i keep repeating the same thing over and over again. apply. accept and know it's done bc creation is finished. persist. be consistent. I'm so sorry if this sounds cold or blunt but i feel like I'm sugarcoating way too much when i answer asks so they never actually apply what i say. doesn't matter if there's motivation or not. u need to actually apply before u feel motivated.

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heytherecentaurs · 14 days

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The Bad Parents would see Kristen in crisis, sort of in free fall, and all endeavour to help her. She's a kid who had to leave home because her parents are bigots. Then she moved in with her girlfriend's family (which thankfully is also her best friend's family). But do you ever think she was scared, even briefly, that she'd have nowhere to go when she and Tracker broke up? Like maybe in the back of her mind she wondered if the grace they'd shown her was because she was Tracker's girlfriend.

I think the bad parents would have rallied around her. Jawbone who knows how hard she's been grinding at school. Sandra Lynn who fully understands what it's like to be a young woman in crisis. (And who is used to dealing with Fig's special brand of bullshit; Kristen's problems might seem easier to tackle.) Wilma and Digby who are so kind and understanding but don't put up with bullshit and won't be pushovers. Even Sklonda who didn't want Riz's friends exploiting him, but you can't tell me she wouldn't hear from Riz that Kristen is Acing her cleric classes and crushing it on the campaign, and now you're telling Sklonda this girl who's really applying herself in shitty circumstances is being punished for it and on top of that it's going to effect her own kid's academics and future. Get the fuck outta here.

Kristen just needs one adult to march into that school with her and say "You're out of order." Like the school may be able to push around some kid and force her through hoops, but Sklonda or Sandra Lynn? No way. "You can't expel her. Kristen has perfect grades and is an active student in extracurriculars. What do you mean, 'She fails because her deity is dead'? Does Kristen still believe in her? Yes. Does Kristen still have her magic? Yes. How then can her goddess be dead? Last I checked Cassandra is a goddess of mystery. Just because you don't understand the mystery doesn't mean you have the right to punish Kristen for it. In fact combined with the cleric teacher's behaviour, this constitutes discrimination on religious grounds." Like... "Who's in charge here? You don't have someone qualified at the head of your administrative faculty? I'm going to have a class action suit brought against the school on behalf of the student body and you don't have Arthur Aguefort here to protect you."

Kristen needs an adult to reasonably address these issues on her behalf and failing that, an adult who will be mean.

Put me in a room with whoever you want from that school and I'll eat them alive. I'll make them cry. I don't care if Jace Stardiamond is evil or not. And I certainly don't care what big tent megachurch bullshit Bobby Fucking Dawn slithered out from. Fuck him and his Kentucky-fried drawl. I'll crush him.

(Side note: Kristen should have immediately begun whatever emancipation process Solace has because Mac and Donna should not be making legal and medical decisions on her behalf.)

#dimension 20 #d20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #kristen applebees #bad kids #the bad parents #sandra lynn faeth #sklonda gukgak #wilma thistlespring #digby thistlespring #jawbone o'shaughnessey #jace stardiamond #bobby dawn #hey there centaurs

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eff4freddie · 13 days

Text

Touch | Part Three

Of bar fights and ice blocks

Words: 4.3k

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five

Warnings: slow burn to the point we might just be embers, eventual smut but next chapter I promise, teeny bit of blood, quite a lot of masculine nonsense, Joel is hot but remains grumpy

When you were in eighth grade you fell madly in love with Johnny Hocart. He was a theatre kid, wildly charismatic for a 14 year old boy, and smart enough to recognise that you had a crush on him and use you for it. You’d signed up to help out with the school play that year, Johnny being the lead in Death of a Salesman the only motivation for your sudden interest in the arts, and he turned you into his roadie almost immediately. You used your own money to fetch him chocolate from the vending machine, you carried his water bottle around behind him on the off chance he might be thirsty. The afternoon you applied his eyeliner for him, on tippy toes and terrified to topple over and take his eye out in the process, fuelled your first fumbled attempt at an orgasm (you wouldn’t get it right until eleventh grade, but you had fun figuring it out). He made you feel something heavy and relentless and heated in your chest, something that unfurled its wings and beat against your rib cage when he walked into view. The little shit let you dote on him hand and foot right up until the wrap party when he stuck his hand up Donna D’Marco’s skirt and spent the rest of the year bragging about it. You were crushed by it, the weight of the humiliation heavy on your shoulders, slumping you forward and folding you into yourself. You vowed to never forget it. But you had, until you met Joel.

Sitting in the mess hall you wondered what happened to Johnny Hocart on outbreak day. You liked the idea that he hadn’t died immediately, that he’d lived in fear for a few months before getting shot by a raider, or maybe that he’d been traded to a slaver and collapsed one day from exhaustion, from malnutrition. You hated to think of him as a clicker, because even though he was a dick no one deserved that, but at the same time you liked the kind of dramatic irony of him as a bloater, overblown as his ego had been.

You chewed your sandwich, one eye on the door, waiting for Marla and definitely not waiting for Joel. You thought instead about the clients you had booked in for the afternoon, and how you were going to finally sort out Peter Fletcher’s tennis elbow so that he could comfortably hold his rifle, and why didn’t they call it rifle elbow since that sounded so much cooler, and you considered all of this while you kept your head down, and very purposefully didn’t think about the hazel flecks in Joel’s eyes as he gazed up at you, one hand cupping and lifting his muscle while you stood square between his knees.

He’d been grumpy and dismissive, you reminded yourself, and the minute he’d felt some relief he had just up and left. You conveniently forgot the part where you had essentially ushered him out the door, suddenly keen to exorcise your living space of him. You weren’t even sure exactly what that was about, except that you had felt the first flutterings of a wing against your ribs, had recognised the feeling as something dangerous and done your best to quash it.

You were contemplating this when a shadow appeared at your table, and you startled.

‘Shit, sorry, just me,’ Ray said, and you craned your neck up to regard him. ‘Can I?’ he asked, pulling at the chair opposite you, and you nodded while you tried to calm your heart. You could see something was up.

‘You ok?’ you asked, when he was finished apologising.

‘Me and my stupid glorious brain,’ he said, and you were tempted not to let him go on any further. ‘I intercepted a message that read like it was raiders, something about a big stash, an old pharmacy that hadn’t been hit yet. Coordinates, too.’

‘That’s great,’ you said, watching his face carefully, studying the lines across his forehead, his furrowed brow, decoding Jackson’s best decoder. ‘It’s not great,’ you concluded.

‘They called in a bunch of patrols to go check it out,’ he said, and suddenly you imagined Joel on the back of a horse, leaning to the left to try and protect his right side, gun strapped to his back and his neck muscles straining under the ache of it. You grimaced. ‘Marla’s was one of them,’ Ray finished, oblivious to your sudden turmoil.

It was a poorly kept secret that Ray was in love with Marla. Poorly kept in that the only person who didn’t seem to know was her. You suspected Ray would have happily stayed put in Chicago were it not for Marla going arse over tit for the idea of living on a ranch. She had barely had to convince him to come with you both, such that he had offered to trade and borrow to get the supplies you’d need, parting with his mother’s wedding ring that he wore on a chain around his neck in the process. You weren’t even sure if Marla noticed, as it had been lost in the service of gaining three passable sleeping bags, and Marla had wrapped her arms around Ray’s neck and kissed behind his ear when he presented them to you, and you had seen in that moment that for Ray it had been enough.

You could tell Jackson hadn’t been what he expected, not least of all now having to share Marla with an entire town.

‘Ray, you did a good thing,’ you said, reaching out and putting your hand on his bicep. He nodded his head, slowly.

‘You heading to the Bison tonight?’ he asked, and you scrambled quickly to come up with an excuse.

‘I was going to check on Maria,’ you replied, grateful for your guilt reminding you that you’d still not caught up with her. ‘It’s been a while since I saw her, and she’s due soon-ish I think. I was going to take her some dinner.’

He looked at you, his mouth downturned and his brows saddled over his eyes, and you felt yourself retracting from his sadness, from his regret. Johnny Hocart had painted your face in similar colours.

‘Yeah, ok,’ you said. You tried hard not to show on your face that the idea was making your skeleton want to crawl out of your mouth and try its luck on the road. But you could see Ray was struggling, that he was bouncing his leg up and down under the table. ‘Marla’s a fighter,’ you said. He looked at you for a long moment, then nodded his head.

‘Bison. Tonight,’ he said, with finality.

You didn’t ask if he knew who else was going on the expedition. You reminded yourself you didn’t care, taking a big swig of water to drown the butterflies.

—

Propped up at a table off to the side, you had a clear view of the bar on your right and the door on your left. You were sitting with Ray and his friend that you didn’t know, and you were trying to participate in conversation but your guts were churning. As much as you wanted to stay in the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself scanning the crowd for threats. Someone smashed a glass over by the jukebox and you felt yourself startle, nearly knocking your own drink off the table. Over by the bar Chloe Bennett, owner of lumbar back problems and occasional sciatica, demonstrated how much her yelping laugh sounded like a woman being stabbed to death with her own stiletto, and you wanted very much to push your chair back and leg it, but Ray kept glancing at you to check you were ok, and his friend Simon seemed quite nice generally speaking, and if nothing else you might be able to drum up some more business out of him.

‘So you don’t charge anything?’ Simon was asking. Simon and Ray worked the radio together most days, Ray listening in to the white noise for any sign of covert communication, and Simon dutifully twisting the knobs beside him. Some part of you registered that he was conventionally attractive, and you wondered if the way he was leaning in to you as you chatted was what passed for flirting in an apocalypse, but also you were watching Ray scanning for Marla, trying to telepathically tell him it would be ok.

‘I mean, we don’t have money,’ you answered Simon.

‘You don’t barter then?’

‘I’m grateful to be here. My home is payment. My safety is payment.’

‘I don’t buy it,’ he said, and he was grinning and you knew that it was playful, but also you felt a wrinkle of frustration in the folds of your skin.

‘You don’t agree?’ Simon shrugged at you in response, and for a reason still not clear to you it made you want to slap him a little bit. You turned to Ray for help, but Ray was looking at the door, and when you looked too you saw Tommy and Joel had just walked in.

‘Fuck,’ Ray said, and you scanned his face for anxiety but found only awe. ‘They are so cool.’

Simon nodded in agreement, and you scoffed in surprise.

‘Are they?’ you asked, and your companions turned to you, confused, and Ray even slightly betrayed.

‘Tommy basically keeps this place going, him and Maria,’ Simon informed you as if this was news.

‘Peak Mama and Daddy Jackson,’ Ray chimed in.

‘Joel. He’s just…’ All three of you turned to watch him approach the bar, nodding to the bartender, who had started pouring him a whiskey the moment he walked in, and slid it over to him.

You weren’t sure how you wanted Simon to finish that sentence. Your eyes kept being drawn to Joel, the broadness of him, the salt and pepper in his hair in stark contrast to his strength, the power under his muscles and behind his eyes. You felt warm in your palms where you had held him, flexed your fingers to try and get the heat out.

You let the conversation move on without you, staring down at your drink, tracing the droplets of condensation first from the body of the glass and then down to the tabletop. If you hadn’t rushed him out would he have let you keep massaging him? Would you have peeled his shirt from his body and explored the planes of his skin? You wiped the water away before it could damage the wood.

‘They’re heading out tomorrow, first light,’ you heard Ray saying, and suddenly your attention snapped back to the present. ‘So I want to be on the radio early, before they go. See if we can find the signal again, make sure the raiders aren’t going in first.’

‘You said you thought they were further out,’ Simon pointed out. ‘That it was bouncing off the mountain.’

‘I know but we’re a day behind.’

‘That’s a lot of ground to cover.’

‘Not on horseback,’ Ray reasoned.

‘We don’t know if they have horses,’ Simon replied. He held his hands palm up on the table, in appeasement, you realised.

‘We don’t know that they don’t, either. We’re sending seven of our people out there…’ your stomach lurched at seven, and your eyes flicked again to Tommy and Joel, and you wondered if tonight was last drinks for them, not knowing if they would both make it back, a time for two brothers to come together before heading back into war. ‘…including Marla, and I just want to-‘

‘What does Marla have to do with it?’ Simon asked, and you decided then he was either an idiot or heartless, and neither option was preferable. You exhaled slowly through your teeth, and watched Ray for his reaction, and wondered if either of them would notice if you just slipped away into the crowd.

You watched Ray gather himself. ‘Marla is a good shot,’ he said, eventually.

You could feel Simon preparing to argue but suddenly there was yelling, actual yelling not imaginary traumatised-by-the-end-of-the-world yelling, and all three of you turned to the bar.

Jacob and another man you didn’t recognise were standing at the other end of the bar, pointing fingers at Joel and Tommy. Joel had already stepped around his little brother, squaring off with them, and you could see that his body was braced, a tightly wound spring in a flannel shirt and jeans. You picked your glass up off the table and cradled it to your chest, as if that would solve it.

You didn’t know Jacob. He was one of the men who had already decided he didn’t own muscles, or feel pain. You knew that he was younger than the men he was squaring off with, that he was full of bravado and empty of brains, the type to shoot first and think later, and it wasn’t lost on you that back in the day he would have made the type of cop that was the subject of several enquires and a few unflattering news items, who would have been shunted off to be the deputy of a shithole town that’s biggest crime wave was when a couple of cookbooks went missing from the local library, a town that he nevertheless tortured until he retired.

Jacob was currently yelling so hard spittle was flying across the bar, and you could make out the carotid artery along his red neck.

‘All well and good for you two,’ he was saying. ‘Sitting back while the real men go out and defend this town.’ Joel was moving forward towards him, despite Tommy pulling on his sleeve to bring him back, and everyone in the bar was now frozen, watching. Jacob continued, because he was as dumb as he was hateful. ‘Oh I’m on the fucking town council, that means I get to decide who lives and who dies without having to put my own arse on the line. Fuckin’ weak, pathetic-‘

‘Lower your voice,’ Joel said, completely calm and also utterly terrifying. Jacob laughed, actually laughed, in Joel’s face.

‘Fuck off old man,’ he spat, taking another step towards Joel, who wouldn’t back down. ‘You don’t get a say either, ridin your little brother’s dick all the way to retirement.’

‘It’s men and women,’ Joel continued, undeterred and still deathly calm. One afternoon on the road you’d come across a snake on the path, big and brown and poised with its head up, watching you. It had taken you ten minutes to back away from it, so sure it was about to lunge. Watching Joel now, inching forward towards Jacob, you had the same feeling. Jacob wasn’t following Joel, made too stupid by his misplaced entitlement, his anger and his impotent fury. ‘We are sending the real men and women to defend this town, and Tommy and I’ll be here to keep it safe while you’re gone.’

You exhaled for the first time all day, the tension you didn’t even know you were carrying with you suddenly releasing. But Jacob was more angry now, and Tommy was backing up Joel and squaring off too, and you felt the heat in the room ratchet up.

‘I’m having a baby, you fuck,’ Tommy said, and Joel raised his hand to calm him. Tommy immediately settled back behind his bigger brother.

‘Not to say we ain’t grateful,’ Joel continued, but Jacob had noticed that the whole bar was watching, that Joel was about to talk him out of an argument, that he was about to be alpha’d by a man twice his age. He took three steps forward toward Joel, who had already reached back to push Tommy out of the way, and Jacob’s arm was swinging just a fraction slower than Joel’s, who clocked the younger man hard in the jaw and sent him spinning, landing hard on the top of the bar and shattering glasses and bottles underneath him. He was only down for a second before he was back up and swinging, landing a blow on Joel’s eye socket before he and Tommy had him by the back of the collar. You realised you had stood up and had moved towards them only when you were close enough to hear Joel grunt ‘a fuckin bar fight, really? You that fuckin clichè?’

Jacob just grunted, his airway constricted by his shirt that Joel was now using as a vice, and even in the middle of the violence you could see he was careful not to compress harder than he needed to, holding him sturdy but without gripping so hard as to injure.

The four men headed for the door, Joel pushing Jacob through first and then following, using the momentum to swing the younger man out and down the stairs and into the dirt below. His friend rushed to him, pulling him up and away, and as you followed them out you heard Jacob spitting threats of his return. Joel was puffed, leant against the railing to catch his breath. He turned to his brother, checked on him, and then to you, where his eyebrows shot up and you realised he was seeing you only now. Your breath caught in your throat. You had no idea what you were doing there, either.

‘You’re hurt,’ you said after a moment, gesturing to his fist. You could see a scrape of blood pooling on the knuckle.

‘Ain’t broken,’ he said. Turning to Tommy he more or less ignored you. ‘You ok?’ he asked. Tommy nodded, before he also nodded to Joel’s fist.

‘Take him to ours,’ he said to you. ‘We got ice in the freezer. Time to work some more miracles.’

You were alarmed, pretty much constantly, but especially so when Tommy turned back to go inside.

‘You’re not coming?’ you asked, and you hated that your panic had carried through into your voice.

‘Gotta make it right here,’ he said, without turning around.

—

The walk to Maria’s was three minutes at most and still you would have flayed your own skin clean off not to have to do it. You could feel the wings now, beating hard against your rib cage, and you swallowed only to taste acid on the back of your tongue. Joel was silent, but it was the type of silence that belies being pissed off, a general curmudgeon-ing, that set you on edge.

You thought again back to your teacher. When the clients in pain, keep them talking.

‘How’s the shoulder?’ you asked, into the darkness in front of you instead of looking at Joel’s face.

‘Thought it wasn’t my shoulder,’ he said, and it took a second for you to realise he was teasing you, not goading. ‘S’ok, I hear it’s all connected,’ he pretend to console you, and you squawked out a surprised laugh, wondering if you’d ever, up until this moment, made a sound like that before.

At no point had you considered that Joel Miller could be funny. Now, though, you discovered you had even less of an idea of how to talk to him.

‘You’re not going out on the run?’ you asked, and you hoped not to sound too relieved, too hopeful.

‘Got things to look out for at home,’ he said, and you stayed quiet in the hope that he would keep talking. ‘Ellie and me, we had a rough time of it…she’s been quiet. Thought best to…’ he trailed off.

‘Maria said you went to Salt Lake?’ you asked, and because you were still unable to look at him you didn’t see him flinch. ‘Why did you have to go there?’ you continued on.

‘Didn’t realise Maria liked to gossip so much,’ he said, and you heard it then, the hardness of it.

You rushed to defend her. ‘I was just curious,’ you started, and Joel stopped you, stopped walking altogether. You turned back to him.

‘Dangerous thing,’ he said, and you wanted to tell him that you knew that, that you weren’t normally like that, that you were clever and you had survived this long because if it, but he was already turning up the path to Maria and Tommy’s place, and all you could do was trail behind him, like a fucking lap dog, worried he’d lock you out if you took too long to get inside.

From the couch Maria called for Tommy, and when Joel responded she pulled herself up to stand. You were surprised by how big she’d gotten, trying to remember the last time you’d seen a pregnant woman. Let alone a pregnant woman about to pop.

‘I know, I’m huge,’ she said, when she saw you staring and you snapped your eyes back to her face.

‘Radiant,’ you said, and she snorted.

‘Thank you for lying,’ she replied, and you felt the warmth of genuine affection between the two of you, thought for a moment of sunshine on your skin, of your sister.

‘Tommy said you had ice,’ Joel cut in, and Maria noticed Joel’s hand, her face hardening.

‘They started it,’ Joel said, and you nodded behind him to confirm that this was indeed true. You saw the suspicion in her eyes, the way she was careful with him, and you stepped forward, taking his elbow.

‘I’ll sort it,’ you said, smiling with what you hoped was confidence. Joel looked down at your hand on his arm, then up to your face, where you ignored his obvious indignation at being herded like a child. ‘On we go,’ you said, feeling like a deranged grade school teacher, trying to get her class of unruly six year olds through to 3 pm unscathed. You didn’t see the bemused look on Maria’s face as you pushed Joel down the hallway, but you wouldn’t have wanted to anyway.

Once again you found yourself crammed into a kitchen with Joel. Sitting him at the table you put some ice in a cloth then plopped down into the chair beside him and held out your hand. He stared at you, unmoving.

‘I can do this,’ he said, and you were tired then, having dealt with quite a lot of male bullshit in just the last two hours, and so you groaned and pulled his hand to you, holding him firm by the wrist lest he try and patriarchy his way out again.

‘I can do it better,’ you said simply, and he huffed out a laugh.

‘Now that I don’t deny,’ he said, and it was quiet, just barely muttered between the two of you, and when you looked up into his eyes you found that they were crinkled with something like amusement, something like affection.

You looked down, flexed his fingers for him, heard him hold his breath when you inspected the knuckle.

‘They teach you this in school, too?’ he asked, and you heard again that he was ribbing you. You decided it was a good sign.

‘No this is purely growing up with a daredevil older sister,’ you replied.

‘Family resemblance, then,’ he replied and you looked up at him sharply, angry for a second that he was calling you meek, that he was deriding you for a perfectly normal reaction to the collapse of society, but you saw nothing on his face that belied any aggression. If anything, you saw warmth.

‘This sore?’ you asked, just gently wresting a fingertip on the bone. His hands were big, with thick and powerful fingers, and you were doing your absolute best not to consider what they could do to you, if you let them.

‘S’alright,’ he murmured. For a moment you saw outside yourself, watched you hunched over inspecting the paw of a lion, a little mouse reaching in to extract a thorn.

‘Here?’ you said, hushed under the light of Maria’s kitchen. You pressed down slightly, on exactly the same spot, and heard his breath stutter. You realised the makeshift ice pack was too bulky to fit between his knuckles, so you opened it and took a block out, resolutely not looking up into his face.

‘Tell me if this is too cold,’ you said, holding the block between your fingers and running it gently over his skin.

‘Mmhmm,’ he hummed, gently. You kept the ice moving, your eyes watching his hand for any sign of a tremble, but he stayed resolute under your touch.

The heat of his skin started to melt it, cold water running down and snaking under his palm, between his fingers. It washed away the blood, so that you could see only scratches, surface abrasions, from where knuckle met jaw. You watched the pink of it, mixing with the water, little rivers of something precious, something Joel. You were aware only of your finger tips, the push of wings against your chest present but forgotten, as you witnessed him, his essence. As you gazed down on the thing that made him, that kept him, the life in his veins. As the block melted down to just a wafer, as it healed, sealed over the hurt, you lifted it to your mouth to taste it, wanting the iron and the tang of it, the sharpness of the cold mixed with the heat of him, of your open mouth.

You heard his breath hitch. Your eyes flew open, not having realised you’d closed them, and landed on his face, where you gasped when you saw the look of pure wanting, of pure desire, painted pink and red over his features. You dropped his hand in your panic, your face burning, your legs moving before your brain had even taken a moment to collect itself.

‘Thanks Maria I gotta go think Joel will be fine I hope you’re ok will drop some food around you’re the most beautiful pregnant lady I’ve ever seen take care bye’ you vomited, gathering your coat tight around your shoulders and wanting but not wanting, terrified but hoping, to hear footsteps down the hall behind you. You wrenched the door open, felt the welcome rush of cool on your face, already halfway down the porch before you heard it slam shut behind you.

You sprinted, shuffling over ice but not slowing, back to your home. As you went you followed the wall, wondering how it could have made you feel safe now that you were trapped behind it, wondering how you could possibly live with the snake poised to lunge at you, how you could outrun it when it had taken up home inside your belly, beside your breath.

Tag list (just learned what these are, lemme know if you want me to add you)

@orcasoul

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou

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