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mariasont · 1 month

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Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus.

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain.

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours.

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly.

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth.

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment.

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud.

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #hotch #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x bau reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #Spotify

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dduane · 19 days

Note

Hello! Love your work, life-long fan, etc. etc. But I am here today on a mission and wondering if you could help. My nibling (who is unsure if "niece" and other gendered concepts is right for them) is turning 7 this week and is TERRIFIED of black holes. Can't sleep, can't enjoy the night sky, is-getting-picked-on-at-school bad. I'm hoping to introduce her to Fred, but I think if I start at "so there these things called white holes which kind of are "opposite" black holes," I might have a whole new problem to explain to my sister.

So as I dream up what a "nice" black hole would be all about - How was Fred as a black hole? What would such an entropically-interesting entity like a black hole even look like as a wizard? Have people with melanoheliophobia reached out to you before/Do you have any expert advice?

Thanks for all that you do to help change the landscape for anxious, nerdy people!!

Let me go talk to Fred.

***

"It was a good while ago, you know?" he says.

("He" is an approximation of the most extreme kind, here. Most astronomical entities above the Planetary level have no idea whatsoever what gender is about, or what it's good for. And even at the Planetary level they're often none too sure what it means for biologicals.)

Anyway. When you're in Timeheart, even when only visiting, it's hard to avoid the sense of everything you're discussing being in the nature of a game you won; or a test you passed and don't have to deal with further except as an amused memory. But then, in that most central of states on the far side of physicality, all games are won. All tests are passed. This is where you choose the next challenge. As for past ones...?

"It seems straightforward," Fred says, "when you're a black hole. More and more stuff accretes to you. At first, it's just your job, right? But then it starts to become more, and you slowly start getting aware of it. Mass = consciousness, possibly? I don't know. But you start noticing it. More, and more, and more, till you just can't bear it! Gravity, right? What can you do about gravity? Or mass? Honestly. ...But then, finally!—all of a sudden, the pressure releases. There's room. You have somewhere for it to go."

"The Schwarzchild radius," I say.

"Is that what it's called?" Fred says. "...Was he nice?"

"I, uh... couldn't say. Didn't know him personally."

"Pity," Fred says. "It was such a relief! Please thank him for me." A pause. "...'Him?'"

"Insofar as it matters," I say, "apparently so."

"All right," he says. "But anyway, it's such a simple thing. All your life you've been gathering stuff in. More and more, all the time. And you start saying to yourself, "This can't go on, it's just wrong, what happens if I eat everything? I don't want to eat everything!' You know? It's scary."

"I hear you, cuz," I say.

"But it doesn't matter what you think or feel; it just gets worse and worse. You swell on the inside but you can't swell on the outside, and you can't stop stuff from swirling in and in and in. You think, 'This is all wrong, it's going to be the end of me! And if it is, what else is there? What was this all about? Why am I not big enough?' And 'Why can't I be the same kind of "big enough" on both sides?' And the inside and the outside start fighting over which should be bigger—"

"I think I may know where this is going," I say.

"Yes! And then, all of a sudden, when you think you can't bear it another second longer, something happens and you just... evert!"

"Go inside out, you mean."

He laughs out loud. "Yeah, well, that's maybe a little simplistic...? I mean, when you're dealing with six dimensions and above, you sort of go inside out, and upside down, and sideways, and, you know, more ways than that."

"I'm sorry to say that I don't know," I say, "but I suspect it's memorable."

"Please!" he says. "My poor gnaester! You have no idea."

"Um... perhaps that's for the best."

"But the inside gets bigger than the outside," Fred says. And then adds, a bit abashed but also amused, "I was kind of late to the party on this, apparently. I'm told it's a trope."

"So it is," I said. "...For a lot of us, though. Takes a while to realize what's happened. But you're in good company."

"Oh good. Anyway, so then after that you start emitting all the stuff you earlier absorbed," Fred says. "You're a gateway. It's like... recycling, you know? Takes a while sometimes: some people have trouble emitting, after absorbing and absorbing for so long." He laughs. "Habit, yeah?"

"Yes it is," I say. "Habit is such a problem."

"Anyway," Fred says, "tell everybody it's okay. Black holes are about taking in what's over with, what's done. But when we shift, it's about letting whatever we ingested go out to be something new. Has to go through our insides first, though! That's what we're for."

"Recycling?" I say.

"Recycling. You're starstuff, sure!" And Fred laughs. "But sometimes even starstuff needs to go through the wash."

***

HTH!

#Young Wizards meta #black holes #white holes #Fred

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sluttywoozi · 4 months

Text

Bloodhound Pt. I | chs x reader

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.5k | Pairing: chs x reader | Genre: romance, supernatural au

Life as a vampire isn't the easiest for Vernon, friend-wise or feeding-wise. He's ready to find a solution, and he thinks it just might be you.

Warnings: blood mentions (i mean it's a vampire fic like ...), non explicit sexual advances from strangers online, suggestive thoughts, involuntary thoughts of violence/murder, the briefest angst (it's me lbr), food mention, mention of being unable to eat

Reader Notes: human, has 2 brothers (i don't name or describe them so they can be other members if u want), currently ungendered (will have breasts and vagina in future smut)

It took a while for Vernon to figure out what happened to him. He still doesn’t know all the details, just that he woke up in an alley with blood all over his clothes and a burning in his throat that wouldn’t cease, and even now, he doesn’t know who did this. Who made him like this.

This being a vampire, of course.

He knew they existed, but in his short twenty five years walking the earth as a human, he doesn’t think he ever met one. He supposes now he has, considering the fact that he didn’t just wake up like this out of nowhere. He wonders if they meant to change him, or if he bit back and managed to get some of their blood in his system before they left him for dead.

Either way, he’s a vampire now, and it fucking sucks. Literally and metaphorically.

There are many cons, and only a few pros, he’s discovered in the six months since he was turned. He can’t go out in the sun anymore, and he’s so strong, he’s broken three phones. Worse than that, he likes the taste of blood now, likes feeling the coppery liquid fill his mouth before he swallows it down, likes the way it soothes his throat and sates his hunger. His brain still screams at him that it’s not normal or right or cool of him to be drinking fucking blood, and the cognitive dissonance gives him a headache every time he feeds.

That’s another con, the feeding. He doesn’t want to just snatch innocent people and drain them dry like his maker did, but he can’t afford blood bags like the rich vampires, and he also hates the synthetic options available on the market. They all have an awful taste, like too sour grapes, and the weirdest consistency, just a bit too thin to alleviate the burning he still feels.

That leaves him to find willing donors, which is surprisingly difficult when you don’t want to fuck them too. He doesn’t have anything against fetishists, but he also doesn’t have a lot of experience, and gaining it with people who only like him because he’s a vampire isn’t what he wants.

He’s tried the apps, tried the matching services, but they all lead to people who just want him for his venom, and he’s grown tired of it. So, he does the next logical thing.

He puts an ad out on Craigslist.

Vernon wakes from his daily rest to find his inbox completely full, his phone buzzing on a near constant vibration with every email received. He props himself up on an elbow in bed (no, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin), and scrolls through, cringing at all of the sexual subject lines and wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have included pictures.

He felt like it was the normal thing to do, share part of himself in hopes someone will share back, but it seems all he’s done is made them feel bolder, made them feel more comfortable being open about what they want from him, even though he clearly put NOT DTF in the listing. But maybe that’s a good thing?

He can easily weed out the people who don’t actually want to help him out, and he doesn’t even have to open every single message to find out who they are. His thumb blurs as he deletes email after email, the amount in his inbox dwindling the longer he swipes, until finally, he’s left with one unread.

The subject line is innocuous enough, [interested in becoming friends with “benefits”], and he opens it to find a picture of you, with your arms extended on either side and seemingly wrapped around something, though nothing appears in the picture. You begin by saying that your two vampire brothers took the photo with you, which explains the empty spaces, and continue to tell him that they were changed against their will, attacked on their way home from seeing Spiderman in the movies a few years ago.

That tugs the corners of his lips down, makes him feel sorry that there are other vamps out there like him, other vamps who didn’t choose this life. He knew he wasn’t the only one, but seeing, or he supposes not seeing proof drives the idea home.

Apparently, they struggled with finding a source of sustenance too, never wanting to turn to you for your blood or your help, and when you saw his post, it made you think maybe you could help someone, in some way.

He’s curious what solution your brothers found, and curious if you’re really offering to be fwbb (friends with blood benefits), but reminds himself to be cautious - this could all be a lie to lure him in, to get his defenses down so you can go after what you really want. He maintains that thought as he types out a reply to you, trying to play it cool and not get his hopes up.

Vernon | hey! im sorry to hear what happened to your brothers, my turning was under similar circumstances. ive been looking for someone for a while, someone who i could feed from without hurting, but maybe also a friend too? Idk i lost most of mine when i was changed, even though i didn’t ask for it, and it would be nice to have someone who understands like it seems you could

Okay, so that didn’t come out cautious at all. He practically laid his soul bare and sent it off to you with a smile (literally he ended the email with his name and a smiling emoji). But it’s already in the void, in the cloud, out of his hands, and now all he can do is wait.

Vernon doesn’t have to wait for long, he finds. You reply within minutes, the buzz making him jump and glance away from the space he was staring into. He does that a lot now, just finds some point in the room and sets his eyes on it, thoughts running through his mind in circles and zig zags and parallel lines.

His phone is still lit up with the email icon, and when he brings it up to his face, it unlocks to reveal a new message from you.

You | Oh no, I hate to hear it happened to you too! Is it still fresh? I know you said you were only turned a few months ago. My brothers wouldn’t even see me for a year after, too concerned that they’d snap and hurt me. I never had that fear, but I never blamed them for it either.

Funny, that’s the fear that drove his friends away in the first place. It’s nice to hear you don’t have it, that you accepted your brothers’ new forms immediately and also accepted their worries, didn’t get upset or hold it against them when they felt they couldn’t be near you for your own safety.

You | I think we could definitely make this work! I have blood and friendship to spare, and you’re in need of both. My only restriction is that I can’t offer too much of the first on weekdays, I teach third grade and I need all my energy to wrangle those kids :-)

So you’re a teacher too? Are you just entirely altruistic or…?

If you are, he thinks this might really be good, maybe even great. His heart would be racing if it could still move, and he can’t stop himself from scrolling back up to find your picture. He didn’t pay much mind to it before, didn’t study your face like he’s doing now, and he really should have before responding to you.

Because you’re beautiful, and he’s in danger.

In danger of what, he doesn’t know, but he can feel it stirring in his belly, burning like hunger and brewing like need, and before he knows it, his fangs are poking at his bottom lip and his dick is throbbing.

But he won’t give in, won’t ruin this with his base desires, won’t become something to fear.

He needs a blood source and a friend, and if he wants you to be both, he can’t be lusting after you like the monster he worries he really is.

Vernon exchanges emails with you for days after that, going over logistics and preferences and possibilities. You decide together that you’ll meet next month, after some time spent getting to know and trust each other, and he decides not to feed from you that first meeting, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe with him before he sinks his teeth into you.

It makes him feel giddy almost, the anticipation of having a friend, of having someone to drink from who doesn’t carry ulterior motives, of having you. Emails become texts which become calls, and soon enough, he’s got the tone and cadence of your voice memorized. He learns how you take your coffee in the morning, knows that you’d both die and kill for your kids, hears the love in your voice when you’re talking about your brothers.

You’re a real, genuine person, and Vernon can’t wait to meet you.

The days and nights fly by now that he has someone to talk to, and it only hits him the week before your meetup that not only will he be meeting you, you’ll be meeting him.

You’ll be seeing and hearing and perceiving him, and suddenly, he’s nervous out of his mind. He hasn’t met anyone that stuck around since he was changed, and he’s all too aware that you could slip out of his life just as easily as you slipped in.

In the days before, he tries to remind himself that you’ve already heard his voice, already seen his face, that you know he’s a vampire and haven’t shown any sign of running.

It doesn’t occur to him to worry about his own reaction to you, which is mistake number one.

Mistake number two is going to your meeting hungry.

You settle into the booth, latte in hand and heart beating out of your chest, and keep your eyes locked on the door. Vernon should be arriving soon, and with so many conflicting emotions razing your thoughts, you don’t know how you feel exactly.

You’re nervous, of course, as you should be when it comes to meeting online people in real life. You’re scared a little, because what if he’s not as harmless as he seems? He is still a vampire, and he could still easily kill you. But you’re also a bit… excited? He’s cute and sweet and in dire need of a confidante, and you think you could be that for him.

Over the weeks spent getting to know Vernon, you’ve grown fond of him, fond of his dry jokes and his media recommendations and his fascinating opinions, and you’re interested to see if your easy back and forth will remain in person.

This should be a good environment to test it out, you think.

You chose this cafe because it’s open twenty four hours, but also because it’s welcoming to vamps, serving a few synthetic options and even carrying donated blood for those with a bigger budget.

What will Vernon get, you wonder? Will he go for synthetic even though he’s admitted to you that he hates it, or will he spring for a blood bag, drink it in front of you with a straw like it’s expensive cherry cola?

Will he buy nothing, deny his hunger and his state of being?

It’s a shame you don’t get to find out.

Vernon takes in a no longer necessary deep breath to steady his nerves and places his hand on the door of the cafe, primed to pull it open. There’s a growl in his stomach, an emptiness that reminds him he didn’t have a chance to feed before, and he pushes it down, drowns it out, ignoring it for all he’s worth.

There’ll be time later, after he finally meets you.

His hand is steady as he pulls the door open but his ice cold heart is in his throat, lodged there like something he can’t swallow down.

“Come on in!” The barista calls out, allowing him to cross the threshold and enter the cafe. He nods in thanks and starts to scan the tables for someone familiar, someone whose picture he definitely doesn’t look at before he lays himself to rest every morning. His eyes catch on a hand raised, one that leads down a soft arm to a gently sloped shoulder and up a tantalizing neck to a sweet, kind, open face. Your sweet, kind, open face.

He grins, beams really, and races over, stirring napkins and shifting chairs with his sudden movement. He’s about to slide into the booth across from you when it hits him.

Your scent.

It’s like a brick wall smashing into him, every sane, rational thought in his head scattering like rubble in the wake of your natural perfume, unmarred by synthetic smells and caustic chemicals like so many others out there.

Instantly, the burning in his throat starts, except this time, it’s an inferno, a supernova of pain and need and desire and hunger screaming at him to take take take. His fangs shoot out, bursting through his bottom lip and making him cover his mouth, frantically backing away from you with his eyes wide and his other hand held out to keep you in the booth when it looks like you might follow him.

He bumps into tables and chairs as he flees, his blazing red eyes still locked with yours, part feral, part apologetic. The door slams behind him but he doesn’t hear it as he runs, his ears full of a roaring voice telling him that he’s going the wrong way, that he needs to go back to you and steal you and keep you and sip drink devour until you’re his, all his, until you’re glassy eyed and your heart is slow and your breaths are even slower.

Which is fucking terrifying, the thought of ever hurting you like that, of wanting to hurt you like that, making him shake with rage at himself and despair over likely blowing it with you.

He’s miles out of the city before he stops running.

When he finally does, he turns in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings and attempting to find his humanity again even with his mind still screaming at him to find you and fucking kidnap you. His clothes are torn and his bones are aching and his stomach is empty, so very, very empty, but nothing is worse than the shame.

He wasn’t strong enough for you. He wasn’t in control, wasn’t even capable of sitting across from you without wanting to drag you over the table and either kiss you breathless or suck you dry.

Numbly, he sinks to the ground, laying himself out on the forest floor and staring up at the moon peeking through the trees.

He feels like it’s taunting him.

The moon used to be his friend, back when he was human. He was a perpetual night owl, always staying up late with his curtains open and music blaring and the light of the moon filtering in through the window. His roommates didn’t mind the noise because they were all making their own, and it wasn’t often any one of them would be sleeping before the sun came up.

He lived most of his life at night and slept during the day, wasting the sunshine and warmth and normal waking hours like the ungrateful bastard he was.

He can remember the moon that night. The night he was bitten.

It was a blood moon, foreshadowing trouble around the bend, and it’s about the only thing he does remember before the agony blinded him and his memories started to flicker through his brain, going too fast for him to make sense of much.

Some stood out, like when his baby sister came home for the first time, screaming and crying until she set those big eyes on him and fell silent, transfixed. Or when he was thirteen and broke his arm sledding in Prospect Park, pretending after that it didn’t hurt because all his friends were watching, waiting for tears. Or when he got a full ride at Berklee for music production, every exhausting day sped up and reduced to a flash before he saw himself walking across the stage and shaking the Dean’s hand.

He succumbed to the encroaching darkness soon after, the red moon growing nearer and nearer in his mind’s eye. He awoke hours later, just minutes before the sunrise, with his throat on fire and his body feeling like someone else’s.

This moon is full and silver, friendlier looking than the last one he remembers, but no less foreboding.

This moon is the one he ruined everything under.

He’s sure any chance he had with you is gone. Any chance to be your friend or maybe even more, as he’s realizing only now that he did want more. Does want more.

How could he not, when you matched his energy, met him quip for quip, made him a playlist and a hypothetical skincare routine? When you devoted so much of your time to helping others and still made some for him? When you’re so beautiful inside and out, that it would take his breath away if he needed to breathe?

How could he ever not want more with you?

You stare down at your undoubtedly cold latte and furrow your brows, scrunching your mouth to the side as you remember how Vernon ran from you.

The barista has already been by to check on you, and you can still feel their eyes every so often, concern and pity rolling off of them in waves. You appreciate their empathy, but you feel a bit raw, a bit on edge, and you wish you could just burrow into the booth and go unseen. You’d leave but too many people who witnessed it remain, and you don’t have it in you to walk past them just yet.

That leaves you to wrap your trembling hands around the mug and bring it up to your lips, attempting to act like nothing is wrong. Like it’s normal for your possible friend and perhaps crush to dash away at one whiff of you.

You have to assume that’s what happened. He seemed so happy to see you, his mouth stretching wide in a smile and his hand coming up to mirror yours as he zoomed over in a blur. The wind he created made you laugh but it also rustled your hair, blew it away from your neck and probably wafted the scent of your rushing blood toward him.

You don’t wear perfume or use fragranced products, your brothers’ noses are too sensitive for that, and you bite your lip, considering that perhaps you should have just this once. Your brothers are old enough to be able to control themselves but Vernon isn’t.

He may be twenty five in human years but in the vampire world, he’s still a baby, and you didn’t approach him as such.

Fuck, this is all your fault.

You sip down the latte slowly, the rich bittersweetness heavy on your tongue, and take a small bite of the cake the barista brought over while you were stewing in your thoughts. It settles like a stone in your belly and you push it away, unable to eat with the idea that you may never see or hear from Vernon again blaring in your mind.

It’s only been a few weeks since you started talking to him but he feels… special. Important. Like someone who’s meant to be in your life. You’d hate to go back to not having him in it, especially now that you know what it’s like with him around.

Everything is brighter, happier, more vibrant. You wake with a smile on your face knowing you’ll have a goodnight text from him, countdown the minutes from sunrise to sunset knowing he’ll call you as soon as he opens his eyes, go about your day wishing you were sleeping next to him instead.

You don’t want to be a vampire, but by God you really think you could love this one.

So you’re not going to let him go that easily. You’re not going to let him fade into the night, never to be seen again. And you’re definitely not going to let him be alone anymore, not like he has been since he was turned.

With determination alight in your veins, you unlock your phone and find Vernon’s contact, pressing call and assuming he’ll send you to voicemail. You have a lot to say, and you’ll be glad to get it off your chest. You’re surprised when a ragged voice greets you, sounding, for all intents and purposes, dead inside.

“Hello?”

“Vernon?” You gasp desperately, any thought of a speech gone from your head as soon as you hear his voice.

“Y/n?” He gasps back, suddenly full of wonder and light and life. “I didn’t check before I answered, I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Why can’t you believe it’s me? We talk every day,” you joke halfheartedly, not even trying to suppress the frown at his response.

“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again after I went feral like that,” he confesses, shame and dejection obvious in both his words and his voice.

“Vernon, you didn’t go feral. Feral would have been killing me. You ran instead, hell, you protected me!”

“Yeah, from myself,” he laughs acerbically, making you roll your eyes at his self-deprecating tone.

“Listen, you’re still new. My brothers had run-ins like this too, it’s not a sign of your character or your control. It’s just a byproduct of your nature, you can’t help it,” you insist, pleading with him to understand and stop blaming himself.

“That almost makes it worse! The fact that there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can change. I don’t think I can see you until I figure this out,” he sighs regretfully, and somehow you can picture him shaking his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight.

“What are you going to do until then? How are you going to feed?” You ask in concern, knowing it’s already been a few days and selfishly wanting him to change his mind.

“I don’t know, I’ll spring for the blood bags and try some synthetic too,” you can tell he’s shrugging, and his nonchalance at being able to fucking eat has you lighting up with anger. You tamp it down, try to temper it, but your anger isn’t just at him.

You’re upset with the world, with the greedy overlords who decide the price of life, with the asshole who took Vernon’s away from him, with the fact that he may never be able to control himself around you. Talking has been enough for the last month but that’s just with you in the crush phase.

What happens when you finally fall in actual facts love with him?

“Vernon…,” you start, not knowing where you’re going but knowing where you want to finish (with his teeth in your neck and your body on top of his).

“Y/n, I’m not risking you.”

He sounds as firm as you’ve ever heard him, and you feel the anger ramp up and then wash away as you realize you’re simply not going to win. There is still a way you could help him though. It might be tedious and painful, but you’re willing to endure it for Vernon.

“What if I go to a donation center and have them reserve it for you? You’d just have to tell them your name and show your ID and you could drink my blood instead of paying for bags. You may still need to supplement with synthetic but together they could tide you over until we can meet again.”

There’s silence on the other end for a few minutes, minutes you spend picking at your nails and going over tomorrow’s lesson plan in your head. You doubt he realizes how long he’s been thinking about it, but you’re not going to rush him when it’s likely that his hasty answer would be no.

“I don’t know… I could still- You’d have to be so far away from me, I couldn’t even smell you,” he sounds unsure, apprehensive, and you don’t want to force him into it but you know this is the best solution.

“You could wait a day or two before going to pick it up? It’ll be less fresh but maybe by then my scent will have faded,” you offer, nearly ready to beg him to say yes.

A few more beats follow, your breathing steady and calm though your heart is racing, galloping in your chest as you wait for his response. You just want to know Vernon is happy and healthy and fed, you just want to take care of him. It seems like no one has done that in a long time, maybe since even before he was turned.

“Okay, we can try,” he still sounds reluctant, but there’s an edge too, a determination that wasn’t there before.

You bite back the squeal, vibrating in your seat as you look up centers nearby. There’s one just down the street and it’s open twenty four hours, so realistically, you could go right now.

“I’ll donate tonight, just don’t change your mind in the next couple days, okay?” You rush to say, grinning and relaxing in the booth when you hear him let out an easy laugh.

“I’ll do my best,” he chuckles, and though you know you should hang up and get going, you can’t help but linger.

“Did you make it back to your apartment alright?” You ask, realizing you don’t hear any music or TV in the background like you normally do.

“Ummm, I think I might be in Connecticut actually.”

He’s not nearly as bothered by this as you are, he even sounds almost carefree compared to how he first picked up the phone.

As if he can anticipate your responses, he says, “I’m not coming back until you’re home safe, okay? With the door locked.”

“You don’t even know where I live,” you remind him, jest in your voice and fondness in your heart.

“That doesn’t matter. I could find you anywhere with how good you smell,” his admission sounds apologetic almost, like he’s sorry for wanting your blood so bad he could find you by fragrance.

Honestly, you preen a bit, flattered that you seem to affect him so.

“Let me go to the blood bank and get you squared away first, then I’ll go straight home and lock all my locks,” you can hear the smile in your voice, hear the affection, and you wonder if Vernon hears them too. You hope he does.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

AN: i was super excited to kickstart baby vamp vernon so i figured i'd post on his (and dk's) birthday!! this was inspired by a series of asks, but mainly this one. it got a bit more plot heavy than i expected but i'm having a good time so far!! i have the second part written already and i'm hoping to write part three before i release part two just so i can stay ahead of it and yall don't have to wait too long!

pls pls pls reblog and lmk how you liked it! you don't know how happy it makes me to see your thoughts and feelings on my work, they're my fuel to keep sharing my writing 🥰

*warnings for this were a bit tricky so if you think i missed anything, lmk and i'll be happy to add it!

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My Masterlist

Part II

381 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 6 months

Note

Hello sugar <3! (im very sorry if theres any spelling errors, english isnt my first language <3)

I would love to request some angst/comfort with the batfam? Maybe with the reader (tw: sa, rape) struggling with some sexual assault/rape issues, something they haven't told the family yet? The reader acting different for weeks, months even, and the whole family being suspicious and noticing their sudden fear of being cornered, touches and certain smells maybe?

its totally fair if you don't feel like it, I just really really love your way of writing the characters, and your writing over all. I swear, i swallowed your whole page in the matter of a few hours, I loved every second!

Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?

Note: My gosh im so sorry this literally took me over a month to get to, but it's here. I'm so glad you like my page and thank you for requesting! (Title name from song)

Warnings: SA, r*pe (non explicit but this fic deals with the aftermath. Please read with caution.), Panic attack of sorts.

Word count: 2.1K

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Please remember, if you are ever struggling you are not alone. It may be difficult at first but there are many places for you to reach out to, many of which are anonymous and do not need the involement of of name, if you are just needing for someone to talk to. There will always be someone out there to help you. As an alternative, my DM’s are always open for a chat! Remember: You are loved and you are so much stronger than you realise.

⛤

You hadn’t meant to drift away. It sort of just…happened. And it wasn’t even something you were conscious of really. The thoughts were just constantly there and you couldn’t shake the feeling of his hands roaming all over his body; the ghostly touch of his fingers lingering flush against your skin, burning an invisible bruise into your flesh. You tried to shy away from it but it was always there, buried into the front of your mind festering away like an old, unforgotten wound oozing with pus and blood that would only create more problems the longer it was left.

The night it happened was cold and bitter. A shallow fog had cast itself over the city as you staggered back to the manor with makeup running carelessly down your face. You shut yourself away, turning the lock on your door and burying yourself under the covers to try and shy away from the situation. But it never left. It just kept growing, weeding its way back through the open cracks like a stubborn plant that refused to leave no matter how many times you doused it with poison. You didn’t sleep that night. And you didn’t leave your room the day after. In fact the only time anyone saw you that day was when you slunk downstairs in the middle of the night to try and revive the growling of your stomach without having to see anyone when you bumped into Tim who was finally dragging himself up to bed. The interaction was odd. At first he thought that you had just been busy all day and that was why no one had seen you: It wasn't uncommon for one of you to disappear into your room for a few days to catch up on school work or to finally get more than 4 hours of sleep. But something about you was off. You were quiet and lacking that charisma that usually shone from you. You were jumpy too, recoiling as soon as Tim rounded the corner unexpectedly.

When you finally managed to bring yourself out of your room, you were still withdrawn. Instead of donning your normal seat next to Jason at the table, you sat at the end alone pushing your food aimlessly around the plate until someone had finished eating and you took that as a cue to leave. You didn’t mean to leave them in the dark. Really, you didn’t but the thoughts crept into your mind every time they got near. Every hand outstretched sent a shiver crawling down the nape of your neck as if someone was running an ice cold digit along your spine. The thoughts were worse. Intruding. Obnoxious. You felt so…dirty. And your mind seemed to like to make sure you remembered that. You couldn’t help but feel like somehow the whole situation was your fault, which of course it wasn’t, but you were stuck with being guilt ridden; trapped within your walls.

Your skittishness didn’t go unnoticed. The boys tried many times to talk to you or to get you alone, but each time one of them hastily trailed after you as you slunk out of a room you would pick up your pace until they got the hint and stopped dejectedly in the halls. You had just skittered off into another part of the manor when Damian decided he had finally had enough.

He pushed his way back into the library rather frustratedly, stomping his feet so hard against the floor that they continued to pound through the room even as he moved from the polished wood to the carpet amongst the centre of the room. His brothers were still lounging around the room, their legs slung carelessly over the arms of the chairs or folded beneath them as they engrossed themselves in their phones or an ever growing pile of books. They barely even acknowledged that Damian had even returned from his pursuit of use, besides lifting their gaze as he huffed his way back into the room.

“Something is wrong with Y/N.” Damian declared, planting his feet into the carpet in the centre of the room and placing his hands on his hips.

Dick felt as though he could laugh. Damian’s statement was so obvious that you may as well have had a huge, yellow sign above your head that screamed ‘i’m not okay.’ It didn't matter how much effort you put into trying to hide the bags that dropped across your skin, or the way that you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with any of them for too long without your skin crawling, they were prominent amongst your saddened features. “Yeah, No shit.”he said, looking up from his phone that he had been mindlessly scrolling on to distract himself from the feeling that gnawed at his gut.

The room fell into a pregnant silence before Damians angry scoff broke the silence.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” He spat. “You’re not worried?”

Jason pushed himself up onto his forearms and spoke out defensively. “Of course we’re worried… It’s just…”

“What?”

“She won’t let us help her, Dami.” Tim said. “We’ve tried, but each time she’s run.”

“Well then try harder!” He said. It was unusual for the youngest Wayne to react this way when it came to his siblings. But, then again it was unusual for you to shy away like this and although Damian would never admit it, he had a soft spot for you and seeing you hurting like this killed him a little inside.

“Damian.” Dick reprimanded sternly.

He sighed and swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I just can’t see them suffering like this anymore.”

There was a general agreement between the four of them. Tim chewed away at his bottom lip as he thought for a moment. “What do you propose we do?”

The whole room seemed to think together as one for a moment.

“We corner them.” Damian said. It might have seemed cruel, but it was the only thing he could think of that would stop you from slipping away again. “If they keep running there’s no way we’re going to be able to help, so we just have to compromise.”

You knew that Jason was behind you. You could hear his careful footsteps, evenly spaced by his long strides as he tried to catch your attention. He was loitering outside of your room, trying to catch you as you left. It surprised you to see him as you peeled open the door. You had flashed him as much of a grin as you could muster up as he greeted you, trying to draw you into a one sided conversation that you were itching to get away from the moment it started. You tried to remind yourself that it was just Jason. That he wasn’t going to hurt you. But your mind still thought it was funny to play cruel tricks on you and soon you were making up a poor excuse and fleeing down the halls.

You didn’t make it far though before you collided with a tall figure marching down the other end of the corridor, who braced his hands on your shoulders. Yelping at the unexpected contact you spun on your heel to turn back the way you came only for your breath to get stuck in your throat when you were met with the red of Jason’s shirt. When you backed up, you collided with the eldest vigilante again. Spinning around frantically, you searched for a way out. There was none.

You were trapped.

The thought consumed you quickly, dragging you down like a ton of bricks tied to your ankles until you were drowning in the thought of being imprisoned again. It was all you could think of. It screamed throughout your mind, pumped in your blood. It was nauseating. You could see the other two approaching and panic set into your already scrambled mind. You weaved, trying desperately to spot an exit but the two vigilantes were much bigger than you and their hefty frames took up most of the corridor.

“No. No no no.” You rambled as your heart rate skyrocketed and your breathing came in sporadic, panicked gasps.

Tim furrowed his brow. He didn’t think you would react like this. He reached out to grasp your forearms to ease your shaking body, but you nearly screamed, yanking your arms away from him and backing up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” You stuttered, barely audible between your spiralling state. Fat, hot tears tracked along your face as you sunk to the ground to bury your face within your knees which you clutched to your chest.

The four boys exchanged an anxious glance.

“Y/N…”

“Please…” You gasped. “Stay away from me. I-I can’t anymore… no more. Please.”

“Y/N? What's wrong?” Dick queried. “Talk to us, please. We want to help.”

“No…” You whimpered.

Damian squatted down beside you resting on the balls of his feet before reaching out slowly towards you, ignoring the warning glance that Jason sent his way, and placing it gently on your shoulder.

Flinching, you squeezed your eyes shut. He could feel the way you trembled like a leaf under his touch but he didn’t let go.

“It’s just me Y/N. It’s Dami.”

You registered his words, but you still felt like you were back in that room. You allowed your body to relax just the smallest amount.

“It’s just us, kid. You’re okay.” Dick cooed.

You sniffled. The four of them were crouched around you now.

“You can trust us.”

Your body tensed as you were hit with reminders of that night. The way he had led you away to commit his act of betrayal that would cut deeper than a thousand knives.

“That’s what he said.” You hiccuped.

“Who?” Tim asked tenderly. “Talk to us Y/N.”

You shook your head, biting down on your lip. You didn’t want to bring up the memory stuck in your mind.

“Kid… we can’t help you if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“He- he… took me away from the crowds… He said to trust him- and I thought I could. B-but then he-” Your voice split into an unholy sob.

“Oh..Y/N/N…” Dick said, suddenly understanding.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can still feel him. Hear him. Just make it stop please!.” You begged, sobbing into your hands.”

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” He told you, reaching out gently to place a hand on your forearm, you tensed slightly but didn’t pull away. “We’re not going to let anyone hurt you. Ever.”

“We promise.”

You peeled your head away from your arms to reveal your bloodshot, teary eyes. From close up they could see how clearly the ordeal had taken a toll on you. Not just on your body but your mind too.

It took some convincing and a lot of gentle touches of reassurance to get you off of the floor, but the four of them managed to ease you back into your room. They refused to leave you alone after that. Insisting that at least one of them stay by your side at all times until you decided on your own terms that you were ready to take the next step in your recovery and stay the night alone. It was a slow process, but each small milestone made them extremely proud of you. They were there when you awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, crying and shaking, and they were there when you managed to move forwards too. They were there to remind you that recovery isn’t linear, and that it was okay to move backwards. It’s all part of the process. The four of them showed you a different kind of gentleness that you had never seen before, and they tried their hardest to bring a smile to your face everyday. And it was their kindness that began to wash away those feelings. It was them who made you realise that you were loved, strong and would find your way back from the darkness and into the light.

537 notes · View notes

inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 1 year

Text

Tommy x Joel x Reader: Sharing is Caring

Mature content ahead

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, threesome, sub and dom (kinda), nipple play, blowjob, dirty talk, use of pet names, sexual content, description of sexual relations, cum eating, Oral(Female and Male receiving), creampie, penetration (p in v ), unprotected sex, swearing, fingering, cum eating, ass fucking...

Word count: 4,8K

You’d tagged along with Joel a couple years ago. It was meant to be temporary but it turned out to be a long lasting partnership. Ellie had been the last addition to the team. The glue that seemed to hold everything together. You’d grown used to the dinâmica. A little family of sorts. You knew about Joel’s past and he knew about yours. The outbreak had made you lose a lot of things but it had also given you Joel and you wouldn’t give him up for anything. It took a while for you two to realize your feelings for each other. The moment of realization had come a couple of months before Ellie had entered the equation. A bottle of whiskey and friendly banter had quickly turned into panicked groping and sloppy kisses. It took a week for the two of you to talk about what had happened. The talk consisted of sinful noises and whispered confessions that had led to your current agreement: no labels, just sex. And you were okay with that.

The agreement didn’t last a month.

Not entirely, anyway. You didn’t have a label so you kept up with that portion of the agreement but it wasn’t just sex. Sure, sex was a big part of it. But there was what happened before: the longing glances, worried words and hesitation. And there was what happened after: the cuddles, sweet whispers and sleeping in each other's arms. It wasn’t just sex it was something else but you didn’t really know what. Until you found Tommy.

Joel had been pleased to find his little brother alive which by consequence made you pleased. There was a small problem though. Tommy was an attractive man. Damn them Miller genetics. The longer the three of you stayed with Tommy the worse things got. You weren't trying to be greedy. You knew you were lucky to have Joel in your life and he satisfied you tremendously. Still, you couldn't help but let your thoughts drift to the younger Miller brother. To make matters worse Tommy seemed to always be around you. You'd often catch yourself glancing at him across the room, your eyes roaming his frame until they made their way to his face. Tommy had caught you looking at him once. You'd turned away abruptly which had caused him to laugh.

"Starin's rude you know?"

You cursed yourself for being so obvious. You could tell Tommy was behind you from the clearness of his voice so you took a breath and turned to face him. He was a lot closer than you had expected, causing your knee to bump into his leg when you spun your chair around. The small amount of contact had sent a spark down your spine.

"Who says I was staring Miller?'

You weren't fooling anybody. He'd caught you red handed but your pride told you to fake innocence. Tommy flashed you a smile. He had a pretty smile. Joel had a nice smile too but he didn't grace you with its presence as often as Tommy did. The younger Miller brother always seemed to be in a good mood while your partner was normally seen sulking in a corner. They contrasted with each other rather clearly and yet you found yourself desiring them both equally. Your eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips, leg bouncing lightly and hitting his thigh. He glanced down at your leg placing a hand on your thigh before leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I don't mind. As long as I get to stare too."

He was so close you could feel his breath against your neck causing you to close your eyes. When you opened them again Tommy had already made his way to the door, his eyes catching yours as he went outside.

Later that day Joel returned from some mission. His body ached from walking so much and all he wanted was to see you. He'd made his way to the room you two shared only to find it empty. Joel placed his things on the floor, closing the door as he went back out to look for you. You were making your way back to your room when someone tugged you into an alley. You almost let out a scream for help but then you noticed who was in front of you. Your eyes widened with joy as you looked at Joel.

"You're here."

"Just got back. Went looking for you but you weren't home."

Home. You loved the fact that Joel called the small, dingy and dirty room you two shared home. He'd told you he didn't much like calling it a room, for some reason it sounded weird to him. Made it feel like he didn't belong. You'd told him to call it home instead and he liked the idea.

"I was chatting with some people. How was the mission?"

"Tiring, but let's talk about it another time."

Joel's hands wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him.

"I missed you."

You smiled at him, hands going to play with his beard.

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

Joel gave you a wolfish grin before kissing you. You groan into the kiss allowing him to switch your position. Your back hit the makeshift wall behind you, the cold metal making you shiver. Joel's lips trailed down your neck sucking on the skin near your ear.

"Joel uh someone could-uhm-see."”

"Shh baby girl, just enjoy."

Joel's hand trailed down your body toying at the button of your pants. You leaned your head back staring at the sky as Joel reached his hand into your pants. Joel grinned as you moaned at the feeling of him toying with your folds.

"Wet already?"

"I missed you too."

"Was only gone a couple of hours, baby."

"Well i'm needy."”

"Yeah you are, my pretty girl always desperate for my attention, hum?."

"Always-uh- always. Joel please…"

"Tell me what you want."

"Touch me. Fuck me with your fingers."

"Jesus christ."

Joel's fingers entered your pussy causing your head to snap up as you moaned. You leaned your head against Joel's shoulder widening your legs for him as he fucked you. You opened your eyes expecting not to see anything other than the wall in front of you. Instead you were surprised to find eyes.

Tommy's eyes.

Your mouth opened to whisper to Joel but Tommy was faster. You watched him raise his finger and place it against his lips signaling for you to stay quiet. The right thing would have been to tell Joel but your orgasm was clouding your judgment and the idea of Tommy watching his brother get you off flipped something in your brain. You kept eye contact observing the way Tommy's eyes traveled down your body slowly. Your lips parted in a muted moan as Joel sped up his movements. Tommy's hands went to his crotch readjusting his member in his jeans. You gripped onto Joel's shoulder biting into your lip as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"That's it honey. Let go.”

"Fuck Joel.”

You orgasm washed over you body sagging in Joel's grip due to the amount of pleasure. Joel worked you through it, his arms keeping you upright as you recovered. Once you caught your breath and recovered the feeling in your legs you opened your eyes expecting to see a familiar pair of eyes though the crack in the wall.This time instead of finding Tommy's eyes gazing at you you were greeted by the view of wood boards. You felt slightly disappointed. Joel seemed to notice your lost gaze turning to see what you were staring at. His eyes found the gap in the makeshift wall, a curse leaving his lips.

"Gotta tell someone to fix that."

His gaze came back to you, hands going to move a piece of hair out of your face.

"Guess you were right about someone being able to see us. To bad we didn't have an audience they would have gotten quite the show."”

Sweet innocent Joel, if only he knew.

A couple of days had passed since your little performance for Tommy. A part of you wanted to tell Joel the truth but another part liked sharing a secret with Tommy. The two of you would catch each other's gaze from time to time. The air around you heavy with unspoken desire. Neither of you spoke with each other about it though. It was almost as if by talking about what had happened you'd be confessing to the whole town.

You'd started to wonder if Tommy's silence meant he regretted doing it. You didn't and in your mind you'd let that be really clear but considering you hadn't said any of this aloud to Tommy it was understandably that he was reluctant. You'd started thinking he was just going to act like it had never happened until he said something that surprised you. You were cleaning a glass in the bar minding your business as you watched the men play pool. You haven't been paying much attention to their conversation until you heard Tommy's voice, head snapping up to look for him.

"That's my drink Matt."

"Shit Tommy my bad."”

"It's alright. Around here we share."

Tommys eyes found yours across the room, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before he grabbed his glass from one of the men and took a sip. Your lips involuntarily parted as you gazed at him. If it wasn't clear before it sure as hell was now. Tommy Miller wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

You went on with your day doing chores and helping people around town. To the outside world you seemed normal but inside your brain was working a mile and hour, the sound of Tommy's words playing on loop. Once you finished you made your way home, a small sigh leaving your lips as you closed the door.

"Hey honey."”

You froze at the sound of Joel's voice turning at your heels to look at him. He was leaning against the doorframe, his expression serious. Well shit. Joel only used that look with you on two occasions: when he was mad at you or when he was feeling extra dominating. You had no clue which was the case so you decided to go for a neutral approach.

"Hey baby. Been home long?"”

"Not too long. Actually i was having a really interesting conversation.”

You took off your coat hanging it on the coat rack.

"Oh who with?"

"Ah just Tommy"

You back stiffened hands patting your coat lightly before turning to look at Joel again. He'd moved to sit down on the edge of the bed but his expression remained the same.

"Oh what did-"

"We need to talk."

"Okay."

Joel patted the spot next to him silently asking you to come to him. You did as he asked, eyes stuck to the floor as you moved.

"Tommys been telling me some interesting stories and as much as I love my brother he's always had a bit of an imagination."

You took a shaky breath in, your eyes moving to look at Joel.

"So I want to hear it from you."

Joel grabbed your hand, his thumb caressing your palm lightly.

"I ain't gonna be mad. But I gotta know the truth. Okay honey?"

"O-okay."”

"You been flirting with Tommy?"

You nodded.

"Alright. That day, in the alley, when i fucked you with my fingers."

You cringed slightly at Joel's bluntness.

"Did you see Tommy watching and not tell me?"”

You closed your eyes and nodded again.

"Okay last one. And this is the most important one so tell the truth."

You braced yourself for the question, biting your lip nervously.

"Do you get of on the idea of Tommy fucking you."

You started to nod again when you heard a voice from somewhere in the room.

"Need verbal confirmation darlin'."

Your eye snapped in the direction of the sound, eyes finding Tommy's frame in the dark. You look back at Joel expecting him to be angry but once you looked into his eyes you realized there was a hunger hidden in them.

"It's alright honey. Answer Tommy."”

You looked back at the younger Miller as he rose from his position and made his way closer to you. Gosh he looked good. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned and his hat made him look intimidating. You breathed in a smile gracing your lips.

"Yeah i get off on the idea of you fucking me."

"Fucking hell."”

Tommy's hands moved to his crotch, adjusting himself in his jeans. You liked the effect you had on him. Your gaze returned to Joel whose eyes hadn't left your frame.

"I like the idea of you sharing me."

"Jesus honey."

Joel let out a chuckle at your confession. It was a desperate sort of laugh. The kind of laugh you'd let out when someone said something absurd and you agreed with them but didn't want to let them know that. The type of laugh you'd give when your friends told you your crush likes you back. A laugh of hope. Joel fucking Miller was into the idea of you getting turned on by the thought of him and his brother absolutely ruining you. You never felt more relief in your life.

Before you'd even realized what you were doing you made your way to Tommy, your hands reaching to grab his hat from his head and placing it on your own.

"So what do you say cowboy you gonna rock my world or what?"

Tommy's gaze snapped over to his brother, his eyes asking for permission. Joel looked at you, watching the way your body buzzed with desire before turning his gaze back to Tommy and nodding. A grin spread over Tommy at Joel's approval. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a smearing kiss. Your hands weaved around his neck as you deepened the kiss. Tommy grabbed your head for better support causing his hat to fall off. His hands made their way into your hair tugging lightly as he kissed down your neck. You moaned as Tommy sucked at your skin making him smile against you.

"Love the noises you make darlin'."

"Ah Tommy…"

You throw your head back, giving Tommy better access and allowing you to look over at Joel. Your jaw slacked as you moaned. Joel remained seated but his legs were slightly spread allowing you to see his hard on. You reached down to grope Tommy's dick through his pants causing him to hiss against your neck, his teeth scraping against your throat. Joel unzipped his pants, his hands reaching into his underwear. You watched as Joel's cock sprung out of his underwear groaning at the sight.

“Like what you see honey?”

“Yeah Joel.”

“Show Tommy how good you make me feel.”

“What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me, focus on him.”

You glanced at Tommy, your confidence skyrocketing at the lust in his eyes.

“Wanna fuck my mouth baby?”

“Yes ma'am.”

You smiled at Tommy, your fingers moving to unbutton his shit.

“You gonna be a good boy for me?”

Tommy nodded eagerly. You weren’t used to being in a dominant position Joel usually played that role. You’d be lying if you didn’t understand why he enjoyed it so much.

Once Tommy's shirt was completely unbuttoned you stepped back.

“Take your pants off.”

Tommy did as you asked, reaching to remove his belt as you made your way over to Joel.

“Hey honey.”

“Hey baby.”

You leaned down to give Joel a passionate kiss. Your hand made its way to where Joel's dick was, giving him a couple strokes.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

You hummed in confirmation hand moving in a steady pace.

“How about you?”

“I'm not used to not having you all to myself.”

You stopped stroking Joel, leaning back to look at his face.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? If it bothers you we can stop.”

Joel smiled at you. You were always putting others before you. It was something Joel had always admired about you.

“Don’t worry about me. If you're enjoying yourself then so am i. Even if it means sharing you with this fool.”

“Hey now.”

You laughed giving Joel one last stroke.

“I love you Joel.”

“Love you honey. Now get your butt over there.”

Joel gave your ass a slap as you made your way to Tommy. Your eyes traveled down to Tommy's unclothed dick. It was a bit thinner than Joels but about the same size so you knew you wouldn’t have a hard time giving him head. You placed your hands on Tommys shoulders, shoving his shirt off his body before placing a kiss to his chest. You licked a line down his body as you went to your knees. Tommy bundled your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you kissed his tip.

“Remember be a good boy and i'll reward you.”

“What type of- Jesus christ!”

You took Tommys dick into your mouth before he could finish speaking. His hips moved in their own accord, fucking your mouth in a steady rythm.

“Fuck darlin’.”

“Feels like heaven doesn't it Tommy?”

“You’re one lucky man Joel.”

You reached a hand into your pants rubbing your clit as you sucked Tommy off. You moaned at the stimulation making Tommy curse at the vibration. You relaxed your jaw as best as you could allowing Tommy to throat fuck you. Your eyes remain glued on his face as he moved, watching the pleasure in his features. His eyes were closed, brows furrowed in concentration. Tommy opened his eyes, glancing down to look at you. The sight of you almost choking on his cock caused him to groan as his pace quickened. He was close to cumming. You removed your hand from your underwear groping Tommy's balls as you gave him a hard suck.

“Ugh darlin-shit- i’m gonna cum.”

You removed your mouth from Tommy pulling your shirt off before stroking him again.

“Come on baby. Cum for me.”

“Ah fuck.”

Tommy's seed slipped out splattering against your bare chest as he came. You heard a groan from Joel's side of the room, eyes moving to look at him as you continued stoking Tommy through his orgasm. You watched Joel throw his head back as he came coating his hands with his juices. Tommy wrapped his hand around yours to stop you from moving it. You let go of his dick glancing up at him with a smile. He grinned down at you before kneeling down in front of you. His eyes went to your chest observing his cum run down the valley of your breasts. Tommy’s hands wrapped around your thigh tugging you into his lap before burying his face in your breasts. His tongue circled your nipple causing you to tug at his hair.

“Oh baby-ugh- so good for me.”

Tommys hips jerked up to meet your clothed cunt, the slight pleasure to your clit making you moan.

“Jesus Tommy give her a break.”

Tommy detached himself from your breasts at his brothers scolding.

“Sorry.”

You glared at Joel for making Tommy feel bad.

“It’s okay baby. I liked it. Joels just jealous cause’ he’s more of an ass man.”

Tommy turned to look at Joel

“Wait, you don’t give her breasts any love?”

You caressed Tommys hair as you waited for Joel to answer.

“She’s never asked.”

Tommy let out a scoff.

“Come on Joel. She shouldn’t have to.”

“How am i supposed to know what she likes if she doesn't tell me.”

Tommy wrapped his hands against your breasts squeezing them before playing with your nipples. You let out a moan grinding down onto Tommy.

“Because that's how she reacts.”

“Hum. Maybe you should listen to your brother more, baby.”

Joel noticed the bratty glimmer in your eyes. You were trying to toy with him on purpose. Fuck it it didn’t turn him on.

“I thought you said you wanted us to share you.”

“I do.”

“Then get your ass over here so I can get a taste of that pretty pussy of yours.”

Your thigh involuntary clenched at Joel's words making Tommy laugh.

“She liked that.”

You got off Tommy shimming out of your pants before making your way to Joel. Once you made it you leaned down to give him a kiss consequently giving Tommy a great view of your ass. He let out a low whistle as he made his way to the two of you. Joel tugged you onto his lap, his semi hard brushing against your cunt.

“Hum Joel.”

“What is it honey?”

“Need your mouth.”

“Yeah?”

“Please.”

“Okay. Where do you want Tommy to be?”

You glanced at the younger Miller reaching a hand out to him. He took your hand helping you up from his brother's lap. You pointed to the headboard.

“SIt down over there.”

“Yes ma'am.”

Tommy gave your ass a squeeze before doing what you’d asked. Joel got up from the bed allowing you to crawl to Tommy who opened his arms to you. You laid against Tommy, your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, his hands resting against your breasts. You bent your knees, spreading your legs for Joel who stood at the edge of the bed. Joel licked his lips at the sight of you spread out for him.

“Come on big boy. Meal time.”

Joel crawled on the bed making his way to you like some sort of predator. You desperately wanted to rub your thighs together to release some pressure but kept your legs spread. Joel took his sweet time getting to you. He used the excuse that his knees weren’t the same as before but you knew better. He was teasing you. Tommy seemed to notice your impatience so he started kissing your neck. Joel kissed his way up your leg starting at your ankle and stopping at the inside of your thigh. He sucked on the skin there making you squirm. Joel held onto your legs raising his head to look at Tommy.

“Keep her steady will you.”

Tommy nodded, his arms tightening around you. The moment Joel delved into your pussy your body became puddy in his hands. You molded yourself into Tommy his hard on proding you in the ass as Joel ate you out. You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of Joel's lips against your folds and Tommy's hands fondling your breasts. Joel's nose bumped against your clit making you latch your hands onto his curls tugging on them as he licked your slit. Tommy nibbled your earlobe whispering sweet nothings. His voice was soft compared to the roughness in which Joel ate you out. The contrast demonstrated well the difference between the two men. You loved it. Your hips started bucking up into Joel's face as your orgasm started to grow closer. Joel listened to your moans become more intense, lifting his head to look at your blissed out face as he added two fingers at once. You launched forwards at the feeling nails digging into Tommy's forearm as you moaned.

“Please Joel i'm so close-ugh- please….”

“I know honey, I know. Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Give her clit some attention, will you? My arm is starting to cramp.”

Joel often cursed his joints for hurting during sex. At the start of your agreement it was something he was very insecure about. He’d told you about it one day and you’d said that if he ever needed a break you’d gladly ride his face. It wasn’t the response he’d imagined but it had made him a lot less self-conscious. He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, his mind snapping back to reality when you moaned Tommys name.

“I know darlin. Let it happen.”

“Ah Joel faster!”

Your pussy clenched around Joel's fingers as he quickened his movements and leaned down to lick your pussy. Your eyes glossed over as you came, your juices counting Joel's beard. Tommy caresed your hair as your orgasm hit you leaving kisses on your forehead. Joel worked you through it, stopping his movements once you started closing your thighs, the overstimulation hitting you.

The three of you stayed quiet for a while. Tommy massaged your shoulders while you catched your breath. Joel laid down on your thigh, his hands caressing your legs fondly.

“You okay darlin?”

You looked at Tommy giving him a peck on the lips and massaging his scalp with your nails.

“Never better. Joel?”

“Yeah honey?”

“How’s your knee?”

“It’ll stop throbbing in a second.”

“So you’ll be okay for another round?”

You could still feel Tommys dick prodding your ass and you knew that Joel would be hard already from eating you out.

Were you being greedy? Maybe.

Did you give a shit? No, not really.

“Round two?”

Tommy's voice sounded so hopeful it was like a little kid being told he could have as many sweets as he wanted.

“Well you know what they say. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.”

“Ah shit.”

Tommys hips bucked up at your words. Joel looked up at you.

“Where does that leave me?”

“You big boy get to fuck me in the ass.”

“So fucking good for us honey.”

“A proper angel.”

Joel got up from the bed moving to get the lube out of the corner you kept it in. Tommy let go of you allowing you to get up from the bed. You stretched your limbs for a moment as you waited for Joel to return. Once he was back and Tommy had settled into a comfortable position, you crawled back onto the bed. You straddled Tommy's hips slowly grinding against his dick before positioning it at your entrance. Tommy's hands found your hips guiding you onto him. Both of you moaned in unison at the feeling of each other.

“Ah Tommy.”

“Fuck darlin you’re so warm.”

“Ugh filling me up so good baby. So fucking good for me.”

Joel came up behind you, his hand resting against your back, forcing you to arch up for him. You let Joel move you as he wished to, his thumb circling your hole before going in to stretch you out. You clamped down on Tommy's dick at the feeling of Joel easing his finger into you. Joel placed some lube in his hand coating his dick in the liquid before guiding himself into you. You felt his dick against your ass spreading your legs slightly.

“Ready honey?”

“Uh Hum”

“Tommy?”

“Fucking stick it in already Joel!”

You laughed as Tommys impatience, the sound quickly transforming into moaning as Joel's dick entered you. You kissed Tommy as Joel started thrusting, the motion making Tommy's dick rub against your walls.

“Faster baby faster!”

“Fuck thats it.”

Joel started pistoling into your the pain he’d been feeling in his knee suddenly disappearing as he fucked into you. Tommy watched your boobs bounce up and down as his brother moved behind you, his own hips jerking up into your pussy in desperation. Your nails dig into Tommy's chest as you ground against him, the feeling of his and Joel's dick filling you up making your jaw slack.

“ I ain’t gonna last much longer.”

“Me neither.”

“I’m close to just-ugh Joel- I need um….”

“What-fuck- baby?”

“Boobs boobs please- ughh!”

Tommy fondled your breasts, his fingers moving against your nipples.

“Fuck Tommy.”

“Like that darlin’?”

“Yeah yeah i’m-i uhm-i’m gonna-”

“Me too baby me-ugh-me too.”

With one particular hard thrust has you cumming. Your orgasm caused you to clench around Tommy's dick which spiraled him into his own. Joel kept thrusting into you until his orgasm arrived making him fuck his seed into you. You fell limp against Tommy, his arms wrapping around your frame as the two of you catched your breath. Joel pulled out and laid down in the empty spot beside you two. After some time you got off of Tommy, both of you hissing as he pulled out. The younger Miller got up searching for something to clean up with. Joel tugged you into his chest placing a kiss on your temple as you hummed.

“Thank you.”

“You could have just asked honey. Didn’t need to keep it a secret.”

“I didn't wanna risk you thinking you can’t satisfy me. Because you do. I just…”

“Wanted to try something new?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s alright baby i get it. And I'm glad it was Tommy. I’d be worried about some other guy but I trust Tommy.”

“So you don’t mind?”

“Considering everything we’ve been through, this ain’t nothing.”

You two stayed quiet for a moment just listening to Tommy walk around the room.

“I can’t believe I didn't know about the boob thing.”

You let out a laugh.

“Please don’t make it a big deal.”

“I won’t. Guess I could still learn a thing or two from the younglings.”

“You bet old man.”

You smiled at the voices of the Millers bickering around you, your eyes growing heavy as sleep took over you.

858 notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 9 months

Note

we need more nerdy peter 😕😕

ask and you shall receive!

peter was going to kill you, this time you weren't exaggerating, this time peter was really truly going to kill you.

maybe he wouldn't full on murder you, but for the first time in forever you'd see him in a fit of rage. he'd scream at you, that's for sure. or the thing that'd hurt the most, he'd be disappointed.

it was a total accident, an accident that just sent thousands down the drain. literally.

a brand new ring with a sparkly diamond, you cherished it, and the man who got down on one knee with it. you never had anything so nice and you promised yourself you'd take care of it.

that's why you took it off for your shower, you didn't want to tarnish it in the hard water. it was the most precious thing you've ever gotten, and you wanted to protect it. you had set it in the same spot by the sink, just like you had for the past week.

this morning didn't go to plan, the silver slipped and you watched it circle the drain, trapped in panic and shock you tried to grab it too late.

peter proposed to you five days ago, and you just lost your ring.

you cried for ten minutes, then had a moment to gather yourself and a game plan hatched. peter would kill you, but only if he found out. he'd be up any minute, you just had to grab a wrench and get it out yourself.

peter would never have to know.

you're still in a towel when you creep by his sleeping figure, delicately moving around his office for his toolbox. your eyes widened looking over the several sizes, you had no idea which one would work.

you took a shot in the dark and grabbed the biggest one, more is more, right?

holding your breath you take small steps as you pass peter again, holding the tool behind your back.

'baby?'

you spin, giving him the guiltest look of your life. 'morning, handsome.' peter rubs his eyes, 'whatcha doin?' you shake your head, 'nothing, nothing, about to take a shower.'

peter tilts his head while looking at your wet hair, 'again?' you panic, 'i forgot to wash out my conditioner, so... be right back.' your fiance smiles, 'want some company?'

'no! i mean- nah, you don't have to. it'll be quick, ya know?'

'i don't mind, i'll just stay in longer.' when he moves the blankets you fluster, 'no, really, give me like... five, ten, maybe twenty minutes and it's all yours.'

peter keeps smiling at you and you have to look away, the guilt is eating you up.

'sounds like you don't want me in the bathroom,' you shrug, you think you're about to break, you don't want to see the look on his face.

'does it have anything to do with that giant wrench behind your back?'

the jig is up, your shoulders slump in defeat. the silence is deafening, tears build in your eyes. you tried to hold it together but the crushing remorse made you drop the wrench, a muffled bang hit the rug.

you sob so hard you fall to your knees, peter's up and wrapped around you in a second, kissing your head and rocking you.

'it's okay! i don't know why we're sad, but it's okay!'

you choke between sobs, 'i'm the worst fiance ever.' peter snorts, 'and your answer was take me out with a wrench in the bedroom?'

he wouldn't be joking in a few seconds.

'i... i... i... lost the ring.' you heave for air, you feel him freeze for a moment, you're prepared for the blow up but it doesn't come.

peter's gentle kiss to your forehead made you feel worse, you'd rather him yell. 'where'd you lose it?'

you gasp for air, he holds you tighter. 'the drain.' he shouldn't making you feel better, but he is. he's calmed your sobs into harsh breaths.

peter wipes tears from your cheeks, 'which one?'

you sniff, 'sink.' your fiance holds you to his chest, he rests his chin on your head. 'want me to help get it out?'

you gasp and push him away, 'we can save it?'

peter nods, 'i'll show you how, if you want.' you nod and take his hands when he pulls you up, he grabs the wrench from the ground. 'i appreciate the initiative, but this is the wrong one, give me a second.'

peter meets you in the bathroom, you've cleared out the under cabinet to make room for your heads, he crouches and points to a small lever.

'alright, first thing we have to do is turn the water off, go ahead and flip that for me, baby.'

'this one?'

'you got it.'

peter pulls at a plastic piece, loosing it enough for a few small drops of water to leak. 'wanna grab me something?' you went for the closest thing, the trashcan. you stuff it where the water dropped.

'i loosened it for you, so now you can take that piece off.' you follow instruction, a bit of water drops with it, you take a peek, no ring.

'now...' peter grunts at the awkward angle, taking his wrench and untightening something. the next thing you see is a small opening, peter gives you a nod.

'you wanna do it or me?'

it's your ring but it's kind of gross, you don't want to stick your hands up that. peter can hear your thoughts, scooping his fingers around until he pulls out the missing diamond.

it still looks brand new, you send him to the floor with a hug. you squeal at the ring back where it belonged, on your left hand.

'oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you.'

peter groans at your full weight, 'it's supposed to be, i do, i do, i do.'

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #my writing

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pigeonwhumps · 2 months

Text

Superhero's pet

WoW's birthday event: day 9: aftermath of rescue | sickness | "you're burning up"

Taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

Caretaker's rescued Villain from Superhero from years in his 'care'. But that doesn't mean things are easy, especially when he's still her boss.

The blame for this goes entirely to @echo-goes-mmm.

1.9k

CWs: Villain whump, pet whump, severe self-dehumanisation, past dehumanisation, past animalisation, asking for punishment, past torture

Caretaker prepares for work quickly and silently nowadays. She needs the extra time, because she has someone else to look after now.

Villain. Superhero's former plaything. The test case in the new villain rehabilitation programme.

Or, as they call themself – pet.

They wanted to be called dog. They were called dog. But pet somehow seems like a slight improvement. They use that now, for themself.

They have the same routine every day Caretaker works, and it seems to help. She wakes them up once she's completely ready to leave. She'd gladly leave them asleep, but the one time she tried, they panicked and hurt themself. She hasn't tried since.

She shakes them gently awake. They're asleep on a human-sized pet bed in her room, snuggled under a large blanket until only the tip of their satin bonnet is visible.

They wouldn't take the bed in the spare room, insisting that "pets don't deserve beds," and she wasn't letting them sleep on the carpet. This was the compromise, when she realised even a room to themself was too much.

They wake and push themself immediately to their hands and knees, reaching out to kiss Caretaker's trainers. She takes a step back.

"Hey, buddy. You don't need to do that, remember?"

Villain trembles, forehead dropping to meet the hard carpet. "Your pet is sorry, Mistress. Please punish it."

"Not happening. Come on, get dressed and then it's time for breakfast."

Caretaker turns her back as quickly as possible as Villain starts stripping without a care who's there. She's not sure she wants to know what Superhero did to make them like this.

They won't take off their collar, insisting that it'll make them a "bad dog", but there's no bell any longer and she's working on the tag.

"Your pet is dressed, Mistress."

"Good pet." She hates the term, but they practically glow when she calls them it so maybe it's worth it? "Follow me."

Villain crawls behind Caretaker, settling into a knelt position when they reach the kitchen. She stifles a sigh. They've come on since she brought them home, but there's still a long way to go. The number one priority of which is to get them to eat like a person.

"What would you like to eat this morning, Villain? Crumpets or toast with jam?" They were their two favourites before they vanished, she knows. And they're edible with fingers, which... Caretaker doesn't ever want to watch them eat like an animal again.

"Whatever Mistress desires."

"Well I would desire you to make a decision. It's okay, I won't punish you for it."

Villain pales, visibly trembling again. "May this pet... may it have crumpets, please, Mistress? It understand if it requires a reminder of its position instead, but please show mercy on your pet for following your instructions." Then they cringe away, repeating under their breath in a monotone, "Good dogs don't ask for mercy. Good dogs take what they're given. Good dogs need regular reminders."

"Shh, buddy. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

Villain's breath hitches. "Please remind this pet of its place, Mistress. It needs regular reminders, This pet is a bad, bad dog and it needs to learn its place."

Caretaker winces. Why does 'dog' sound so much worse than 'pet'?

"You're not a bad pet. You're very good already. Is that where your scars are from?"

"Some, Mistress. This pet requires maintenance."

Caretaker nods, glad she's already eaten. She sets the dog bowl in front of them. "Eat your breakfast."

Villain obediently lifts a crumpet (and god, at least they're using their hands now) and hunches over it, eating like they'll never be fed again.

For all Caretaker knows, that could be a plausible possibility in their mind. Did Superhero threaten that? Villain is still underfed.

She watches as they polish off their meal. As she has before, she wonders if she's using the right pronouns anymore. Sure, it/its are conditioned into Villain, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't use them. Does it?

"I'm going to work today, Villain. While I'm gone, I'd like you to clean the dishes and look after your goldfish. You can go out on the balcony if you like, but no further outside. I'm sorry, we can't risk it yet. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good pet."

Caretaker bends down and scratches behind their ear, which they lean into eagerly. "Stay safe."

Then she leaves, unable to think of anything else to say.

Superhero has asked to see her.

Caretaker would be nervous normally, because now she's finished her training he only ever calls her in when she's failed, but now... what if he's found out about Villain? As a technopath it was simplicity itself hacking into the system to investigate the rehabilitation centre, but what if she left some trace of herself behind? Online, at the centre itself, in her behaviour over the past few weeks... she could've done anything.

As she walks through the building, she passes many people, some of whom smile or call out greetings. She wonders just how many know what Superhero's been doing.

She hadn't. Villain had been missing for two years and god, she was so naïve. Believing Superhero's reassurances (when she dared to ask) that they were being well taken care of, and he'd visited himself, the conditions were completely up to scratch. They should be no worry of Caretaker's now. His terrible lies that make her blood boil.

She knocks on his office door and waits for a response before entering.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

His eyes are ice cold behind his smile. "Yes. I wanted to ask how you're doing."

"Sir?"

"After Villain's escape. I notice your success rate is down recently."

"Oh." She twists her fingers behind her back. Of course she has, she's not arresting anyone else to be hauled off and tortured into Villain's state or worse. "I'm sorry, sir, I've just been worried about Villain." Not a lie. "I'll do better."

"Mm." He steeples his hands together under his chin, watching her steadily with the gaze of the agency's golden boy, and it's in moments like these that she's reminded of how brutal his training was. How unforgiving. "Any idea where he could be?"

Her mind flashes back to a morning during Villain's first week with her, when they'd licked spilt jam off the kitchen floor because "bad dogs don't waste food".

"No, sir."

"Pity. As their nemesis, I expect you to do better."

"I expect you to do better, Caretaker. We'll try again in an hour."

Caretaker shivers. At least she no longer has to be trained by Superhero.

Why did she ever like and trust him?

"Sorry, sir."

"Let me know if you find anything. Dismissed." He flicks a hand towards the door and she exits obediently. You don't argue with Superhero, even if you're not trying to keep a low profile.

Às soon as she's far enough away, she leans against a wall and closes her eyes, breathing hard. She is so, so glad she doesn't regularly carry a knife around with her. Stabbing Superhero 47 times in the chest might be a slight giveaway that she no longer likes him.

Caretaker returns home to the smell of chemicals and Villain kneeling on the freshly-cleaned carpet, behind an array of implements. Lighter, matches, fire poker, broom, knife, bleach, rope, salt...

"Villain, what..."

"You have been stressed, Mistress, and this pet is overdue its maintenance. This pet thought that this might help, as it did Master." Then they say somewhat proudly, "This pet used its initiative, as you requested. Has it pleased you, Mistress?"

The pieces finally click and Caretaker stumbles back, hand flying to her mouth, horrified. Villain thought... Caretaker would want to torture them because she was stressed? More than that, they fetched all these torture implements and brought them together in an effort to please her, knowing how they would be used?

"I... put those away, Villain, please. We won't be needing those tonight. And once you're finished go and wait in the living room. I think we need to talk again."

"Yes, Mistress." They pick up the first implement (a hammer) and crawl awkwardly towards the cupboard where the DIY stuff is kept. Caretaker thinks about reminding them they can walk, but they're shaking so much already. It probably wouldn't do any good.

She changes into something more comfortable before turning the kettle on, her own hands shaking. God. It feels like every day she discovers some new, despicable thing Superhero has done. Forget the knives – she could kill him with her bare hands.

She used to just be able to relax after work. Those were the days. But– she can't very well just leave Villain. They're her responsibility, and she's their only option.

Sighing, she carefully carries two cups of chamomile tea into the living room and sets them down on the coffee table. Villain is knelt in what must be the most uncomfortable corner of the room – difficult to find, as the place is tidier than she's ever seen it.

"Will you come and join me on the sofa, please, Villain? Or at least beside the sofa, if it makes you feel more comfortable."

She's sure they'll do that, they always do, and she arranges soft cushions on the hard carpet to make it more comfortable, since the rug doesn't reach far enough. At least she's always had far too many cushions.

She lives in hope that one day they'll feel comfortable enough to start using furniture again.

"So, first things first. Thank you for cleaning the house so thoroughly. It's never been so sparkling. You didn't have to, but I'm very grateful you did. And I'm proud of you for using your initiative, please keep doing so. However, stop bringing me torture implements. That's an order. I'm not going to punish you, Villain, and nobody deserves being hurt by any of that. Understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. This pet apologises for not letting you choose the method of punishment completely. It will do better in future."

"No, that's not what I–" She cuts off, pinching her brow. She's not going to get them to understand, at least not yet. "Thank you, buddy. Now, why don't we both relax? I'll find us something we'll both like."

"Yes, Mistress."

They settle for an episode of Great British Bake Off in the end. Not that Villain ever comments either way, but they did when they still fought each other and if Villain lied to her about their preferences then that's their own fault.

Villain rests their head on her lap and watches the screen sideways, eyes half-closed. Caretaker rubs small circles into their shoulders.

She feels so incredibly guilty for arresting them in the first place. She's responsible for this, albeit indirectly. The Villain she knew would never have forgiven her.

Speaking of which...

"Why are you never angry with me, Villain? I'm the reason you were tortured for two years."

Villain glances up from under their lashes for just a second.

"Good dogs don't bark."

#whump #whump writing #wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump day 9 #aftermath of rescue #villain whump #hero and villain #hero whumper #hero caretaker #villain whumpee #pet whump

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cinnamonest · 2 months

Text

Also on note of that “bone breaking” post I believe Xiao is an absolute menace to the innkeepers because of his inability to gauge human sickness and injury. He's thoroughly convinced any slight discomfort you experience is a near-death situation.

Human life is incredibly fragile. Their bodies are nearly unbelievably susceptible to death from even very mild injuries and sicknesses, they die so easily it's frightening. Which is why he has to be very vigilant with you.

You once got a bit nauseous from eating something a bit past expiry date — you insist it's just food poisoning over and over, but he practically drags you to a pharmacist anyway “just in case,” because there are many deadly pathogens and parasites humans can die from that begin this way, and you will drop dead before you even know something is wrong.

If you have a headache, it's probably an oncoming aneurysm that will cause sudden death. You may think you have a mere common cold, but he is well aware that many very dangerous and severe illnesses begin as symptoms of common colds, some of which progress so rapidly you may not have time to notice before sudden death.

You try to explain your throat hurts because what you ate is giving you heartburn, but if it has the word heart, which is a very vital organ, that can only mean you are at great risk of, you guessed it, sudden death.

More than once now you've been sleeping a little too deeply — your breaths are so slow that it looks like you're barely breathing at all, so he has to shake you awake to ensure you are still alive. Any cough or sneeze is met with this head-jerk in your direction and yellow eyes wide open staring in panic, and you have to swear up and down you just got swallowed the wrong way or inhaled some dust.

Not even period pains are safe — it's normal, so you insist, you can't hide your discomfort so you're all but begging him not to worry about it, but this one time he remembers about seven hundred years ago he once heard a villager mention a woman who had internal bleeding mistaken for just that and died, so it must be seen professionally (yes, each month). The whole concept bothers him — you're bleeding and in pain, those things are bad, how can you be sure it's the normal amount of bleeding and pain and not too much, that you're not actually five minutes away from dropping dead? That's right, you can't know, which is why you have to let him carry you to the harbor for the third time this week.

Injury is even worse — yes, he's aware that human flesh bruises easily, but this bruise is on your ribcage, and you don't recall how it got there, there are organs underneath there and you could very well be internally bleeding out.

Both innkeepers are, at this point, used to him coming bounding into the main lobby in full-fledged panic, demanding to hand over the emergency medical kit kept by the front desk so he can save you from bleeding out (you accidentally cut your finger on a splinter on the baseboard), and they no longer bat an eye or ask where you're going when he comes barging through carrying you (protesting, at that) out the door without a word before vanishing in the direction of the nearest village with a doctor… even when you try to get their help to please tell him I'm fine, they just ignore you at this point, knowing it's futile.

There's a death at the inn once — you try to be reasonable and explain that it was a very elderly and sickly man who most certainly died of natural causes, but see, you don't know for sure that he didn't have some kind of rare rapid-onset deadly illness that can spread from the bottom floor all the way up to where your room is, so it is imperative that you be disinfected professionally.

He annoys the doctors too — they're all used to it at this point too, but many of them are aware of him, and none of the humans really want to oppose or risk upsetting one of these beings they have a degree of reverence for, so much to your dismay, all of them continue to treat his concerns as legitimate, even though it's very blatantly clear to you that they're faking taking it seriously.

On the bright side, having some pity on your suffering perhaps (or being tired of dealing with the same thing over and over), the harbor pharmacist managed to convince him that an over-the-counter mild painkiller was a miracle cure for a wide variety of ailments, so unless you feel that you need more, he says, then that should be enough… which cuts down on the frequency of your unnecessary emergency care visits, but only somewhat.

At this point, surely at least one of the concerns has been legitimate, he has definitely saved your life more than once by now. And yet, you have not thanked him for this, you continue to be so naive to your own fragility and do nothing but complain about it when you literally owe him your life. Unbelievable.

But rest assured, your ungratefulness will not deter him from continuing to take the utmost care of you, he'll continue to save you, regardless of how unappreciated these life-saving efforts are.

#i'll put this out from drafts in the meantime since i got behind on posting the last week or so #.x

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hufflefluff-stuff · 1 year

Note

could you write HL characters reacting to MC passing out due to exhaustion?

Thanks for being the first to request!! :D

Notes: MC has established relationships with the characters (individually). And I only did three bc I had good ideas for these ones specifically

Characters: Ominis, Poppy, Amit

............

Ominis Gaunt

In the days following Sebastian casting Crucio on you in the scriptorium, it left lingering effects on your physical body.

You felt sharp aches and pains in your hands at random, which made your wand movements rather jerky.

You really should've been resting, but you've been receiving lots of owls lately, finding yourself being pulled in several different directions and (mistakenly) deciding that sleep wasn't important right now.

But the exhaustion catches up fast, as Ominis finds you passed out in the Undercroft, immediately panicking and thinking you got attacked.

After you're floo'd to the hospital wing, Madam Blainey looks after you while he tries to explain how he found you without exposing the secret hideaway.

She noted seeing "unusual" red sparks coming from your body, and for a moment his heart drops...and he forces himself to choke back tears upon realizing what's actually going on with you:

You're still feeling the aftereffects of Crucio..and never told him.

Merlin, he wishes you never took the full brunt of the curse. Why did it have to be you?

Somehow he managed to fall asleep, but when you wake up the next day, see your boyfriend, and gently squeeze his hand, he's wide awake too, relieved to no longer detect those sparks.

You claimed to be extremely tired from all the errands you've been running....but when he asks you if "it" still hurts, you realize there's no playing dumb this time.

So you relent and explain the aches and pains, quickly reassuring him they're gone.

Yet nothing you could say in that moment mattered, as it didn't stop him from silently breaking down, laying his head in your lap as tears spilled from his glazed eyes.

This is extremely unlike him, but he can't help it...knowing that the same curse which traumatized him all those years ago was now hurting the one he loved most.

Not to mention you're giving more and more of yourself away to people you hardly knew without considering putting your own well-being first.

He never sees you anymore, and it hurts him.

"Don't you get it? You're killing yourself, MC, and...i-it's killing me, too." He sounds completely shattered. "Is this what it takes for you to finally understand?"

"No, no..you're right. This never should've happened. I'm sorry, love." Frowning in guilt, you pet his hair comfortingly, realizing how much you've neglected him. "You have every right to be angry."

"..I'm not angry. I just...I-I wish we never went down there. I should've stopped Sebastian from-"

"He's not to blame. Don't go yelling at him now." You chuckle softly, before promising him a date to Three Broomsticks as an apology..

Along with you swearing to stop doing favors for strangers.

He calms down after that, still vowing to yell at Sebastian later on.

But he's looking forward to that date.

Poppy Sweeting

You were both venturing through the Forbidden Forest, on a mission to rescue an injured golden unicorn that was supposedly spotted.

Apparently someone noticed it limping around, sporting a deep gash in its leg and leaving a bloody trail.

Poppy figured it narrowly escaped a trap, which was confirmed after you stumbled upon a mechanism tainted in blood.

Time was now of the essence, as some poacher could capture it first, or worse...it could die from its injury.

Despite the sun having set long ago, you insisted on searching even if it took you both all night long.

While Poppy could keep up with you (even tho she worried about the curfew), your energy was nearly spent as you've been out raiding poacher camps and freeing caged beasts all day long, not having returned to the castle once to rest nor eat.

You had plenty of wiggenweld potions, but unfortunately they didn't cure exhaustion.

Obviously you weren't gonna tell your girlfriend that, so you continued tracking down the golden unicorn.

And eventually you discovered it peacefully grazing in a foggy meadow, with Poppy gazing in awe.

"How majestic!" She whispers excitedly. "Now to catch it...we can try Leviosa, but it might panic. Glacius could work, too...though it seems cruel to freeze a unicorn. Hmm, what do you think......MC??"

She turns to you and sees you on the ground, not moving.

At first she freaks out, until she realized you still have a pulse, but she knew you had to get back to the castle ASAP. The forest was no place for a nap!

Fortunately, Highwing was in your nab-sack, so you both got back there in one piece, where you recuperated in the hospital wing.

Madam Blainey noted sleep deprivation, and while Poppy's upset that you didn't listen to her, she can't be entirely angry with you.

She knows you've been stretching yourself thin, saving all these beasts on top of your other escapades.

That being said, she literally had to push you back into bed so you didn't bolt out of it after remembering what happened before you passed out.

"But the golden unicorn..!" You panic. "He was right there! Now we'll never find out where-!"

"It's okay, MC! I saved him. He's safe and sound in the vivarium." She hastily reassures you, showing you a few strands of golden unicorn hair as proof. "We'll go once you feel better."

You calm down after seeing the strands, before you smile and embrace her tightly. "I'm so lucky to have you, Poppy."

"I am, too,love...I'm glad you value the health and well-being of beasts, but that shouldn't take priority over your own. We can't help them if we don't help ourselves first."

"..you're right, I'm sorry. I'll try to remember that."

Amit Thakkar

All of your escapades inside and outside the castle had you drained and exhausted. You wish you had more time for yourself nowadays.

But people needed you: friends, students from your house, professors, townsfolks, goblinkind....you couldn't just ignore their requests for help.

Who else but you had such bravery and ancient magic skills? Nobody. It had to be you.

You've kept your missions secret from your boyfriend, claiming you're only out all the time to look for astronomy tables...which is partially true.

After what happened in the goblin mine, Amit was left shaken for a few days, and you felt guilty for practically dragging him into that mess just because you needed him to translate some things.

So when he sent you an owl asking you to come by an astronomy table located in a field of grass without explanation, you abandoned your current mission and headed there straight away, anxious about what he wanted to discuss.

As it turns out, he knew you were doing more than just observing constellations...but he wasn't mad at you for keeping secrets.

Rather, he knew you needed a break and invited you out here to get away from everything.

He had a blanket that you two laid on together, watching the stars; not for any assignment in particular, but just because the sky was especially clearer and pretty tonight and he didn't want you to miss that.

"I like coming here when I feel like there's too much weighing down on me all at once. My studies, my responsibilities...they can get overwhelming." He sighs, turning to you. "I'm certain you feel the same way, my dear."

"Amit, this is lovely..and...I appreciate it more than you know. But Lodgok needs me to-"

"He can wait." His voice is firm, unusual for the typically calm and passionate Ravenclaw. But his gestures are the opposite as he wraps his arm around you. "Let's stay here a while, MC..and just...forget about the world. At least for tonight. I guarantee you will feel much better...and you'll shine twice as bright tomorrow."

You agree to stay, but only because you're weak to his sappy and poetic remarks.

And you close your eyes, listening to his soft ramblings of the moon's current phase and what it all meant.

While his fascination with the cosmos keeps him wide awake for some time, he sees you passed out on the blanket minutes later and smiles lightly, relieved that he helped you find some peace.

You promised to protect him down in the mines...now it's his turn to protect you as you slept, ensuring no person nor beast bothers you.

#hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy x mc #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #poppy sweeting #poppy sweeting x reader #amit thakkar x reader #amit thakkar #angst #hurt/comfort #headcanons

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life-is-more-than-just-a-game · 4 months

Text

♠️ Lustful Glances ♠️

A/N: So, ehm. Actually, this was a request from an anonymous sender, but since Tumblr spun yesterday and the question is no longer there, I have to write it as a normal text now, for better or worse. 😞

I hope the sender reads it anyway and likes the little story! ✨

Characters: Chishiya

POV: fem!reader ; Smut!

Warnings: NSFW, please don't read if you don't feel comfortable with sexual content and when you are under 18 years old!

I've known Chishiya long enough to know what he's like. Unlike most people I've met at the Beach, Chishiya is not only a rather quiet and introverted person, but he's also a person who doesn't think twice about drugs, sex and alcohol. He lives his life in a sober state and doesn't have any great lust potential that makes him want to sleep with someone on a daily, weekly or monthly basis. He can be proud of that.

However ... these are sides of his personality that most people are aware of. To be precise, it is no secret. Well, but because of the relationship we have with each other, I have knowledge about him that people around me would define as ... unbelievable.

It's days like these when Chishiya can show a different side of herself. Where he is no longer just the quiet and well-behaved little guy he usually presents himself as. It's hard to believe - but it's true: there are days or moments when even he throws all rationality overboard. Especially at times when his testosterone level tries to play a few tricks on him.

What do I mean by that? I'll tell you.

Imagine the initial situation as follows: I'm just sitting in my room reading one of the books I've discovered in the hotel library. A little more permissive, considering that the temperature is sometimes unbearable. If I had to define "permissive", I'm sitting on the floor in a pair of shorts and a bandeau, leaning against my bed while eating some snacks that Chishiya brought me after a game he finished yesterday.

The man in question came into the room. We spent time talking to each other, as we do very often. We exchanged new experiences or insights in Borderland- the usual. And although nothing happened between us, at some point I noticed Chishiyas eyes on me.

Later, we're laying in bed together. Next to each other. I keep reading my book and pretend not to notice how he keeps his eyes on me while he tries to just rest and relax a little. But when I see him start to look at me for the third time, I can't just leave it at a hidden smirk. And so I close the book and turn my attention to my comrade, who seems to be a little preoccupied at the moment.

"You're doing it again."

"Doing what again?" It is difficult to say whether he meant this question seriously or not.

His words sounded ironic, but his face shows that he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

"Looking at me ... with those eyes." I smirked at him, sliding down a little and turning on my side to be at eye level with him. "Those eyes I see way too rare, if you'd ask me, Chishiya."

"It was just a gaze", he says, but all I could do was shake my head "no", before sitting up a little again, just to look down on him.

"Stop kidding me", I whisper, "I know how you look at me when you are kind of aroused." It's clear to me. "We know very well that I know that best ..." He gulps.

And with his inability to speak I know I was right with what I'm saying. So I took the chance to lean over him, so that our faces are dangerously close to each others. Yes, I can feel his heavier getting breath against my lips, which makes me smile just a little. Especially when I look into his brown, beautiful eyes, giving me the opportunity to tease him.

"So lustful, babe ..."

"Y/N ..."

"No." I know he wants to deny it. "I saw them. Many times. During conversations. While you were talking to others. In our most intimate moments we share together." We aren't a couple so far- yet we slept so many times with one another. ”The sparkle in your eyes is the same they spread when I kissed your lips so intensely. I saw it when you tried your best to make me as horny as you and the sparkle was there, when you fucked me until my biggest satisfaction ..." While I'm talking, I take the liberty of running a hand over the bulge that has already formed in his pants.

A quiet "Hm~" escapes his lips, his eyes do close in contenment.

”Try to convince me otherwise, love ..."

”No." That's all what he says- for now. ”Please ..."

"Please?"

"Don't ... take your hand away ..." What was that?

Chishiya Shuntaro begs me not to take my hand off his dick? Pathetic. But ... not in a bad way. It ... is arousing ... and I like the fact that it seems to be me who has him - in the truest sense of the word - in my hand today.

"Chishiya ..." Starting to place soft kisses on his neck, I can't help but have to grin which gets wider and wider with every moan he tries to hide from me. „You want me that bad today, huh ...?" Now I peck him a kiss onto the corner of his lips, moving my hand, which rested on his even harder getting cock, making him hissing in pain and desire. "Then you have to tell me ..." Whispering these words in his ear, I'm pretty sure it's giving him goosebumps. ”Tell me how much you want my hand around your cock ... Tell me how much you need me right now and tell me what you want me to do to relief you from suffering ..." Looking him into his eyes while saying all those things, is fun to me.

I love how he just gulps and stares at me completely helpless, not being able to say what I want him to say. And because he isn't saying what I want to hear from him, I grin cheekily, giving him a kind of sadistic "Such a pity ..." and hint at letting go of his aroused member. Nothing he allows. Rather, he's overcome by a "Don't...!" as he grabs my wrist jerkily to stop me from letting go of him. Chishiya even goes so far as to simply guide my hand under his pants so that I have even better access to him. That wasn't what I wanted to achieve, but at least I have him where I want him- he's horny. And wants nothing more than to cum through me.

"Want me to satisfy you, Chichiya ... ?"

"Nobody could better than you, Y/N ...", he says, his words making me kind of happy. "Guess you're not in the mood, b-but I need you ... I ... I need you to make me cum ..." His hips are moving as if he were somehow trying to make himself more comfortable than with a still hand, which only increases the pressure he feels. "I'll do what you want. If you want me to cum all over your face, I will. If you want to swallow my sperm, you can. I'll make a mess out of you but please ... please fuck me with your hands as well as you always do ..."

"Just with my hands?"

"I'd like your cunt more, but- damn!" Guess he wasn't expecting that I gonna start the show.

His head abruptly rests on the back of his neck, just as he had to abruptly interrupt his sentence. Only because I started moving my hand up and down to do him a favor. Still:

”But ...?" I look him into his half closed eyes. "Talk to me Chishiya ..."

"Ngh~ ... but ... fuck ... it's so good ... Y/N ... you make me feel ... so good ..."

"I know ..." I say, "but that's not what you wanted to say."

"I-I ... but ... your hands would be enough for me ..." Chuckles. "A blowjob would be nice, too ..."

"You love it when I suck you out, huh? You enjoy it when you see how my hand getting covered by your sperm and you really do like it, when you see me swallow your whole juice with just one gulp, don't you?" He nods.

"Imagine these situations makes me crazy, Y/N ..." He smiles to me, stretching up a little to indicate that he wants to enjoy a kiss, which of course I give him.

Intensive. Lustful. But above all very passionate. I meaned what I said: we are not a couple yet. But sometimes, making out with him - having sex with him - makes me feel like we are. Our kisses are something magical to me. How he adapts to my rhythm. How he grabs my lower lip with his teeth and starts to gnaw on it playfully. And his tongue ... He can work well with it. He do know so well how he has to use it, no matter what.

And so do I know how skilled I am with just my hands. Stroking him up and down, faster and slower, harder and softer- it mades him moan so amazing, it's music to my ears.

"C-Coming ...", he says and breaks away from the lovely kiss we shared.

A loud groan comes over him while I bumped his shaft, sucking and biting his sensitive skin on his neck, to place some hickeys here and there, after which it only takes a few more movements to ensure that my working hand is flooded with warm secretions. Not gonna lie, felling this makes me kind of proud- it's just:

"We have just started, love." His eyes are half-closed as I say these words. "Pull down your pants, darling, I've got something nice planned for you ..." He can try to hide his satisfied grin, while I was licking my hand clean, but he won't be able to.

And although he is still a little out of breath, as is the case when you have just reached your climax, he obeys. Making myself prepared for what is coming now, I lean over him once again, to kiss his lips passionately. To place kisses everywhere where I'm able to. The corner of his mouth, his cheeks, his ears, neck, shoulder, chest, abdomen ... until I finally reached the point I made my goal. Glancing up to him as innocent as I am lol, you are not I kiss along his lower abdomen, placing some hickeys there, too, further along his cock, at the height of his groin. I can feel how he's moving his pelvis, trying to lead me in the correct direction, but that's not working on me.

"Patience, love ...", I whisper up to him, noticing his left hand on the back of my head, burying his fingers into my mane. "It's interesting to see how easy it is to get you hard again ..."

"Don't say such things ..."

"Why not?", I ask, grinning in a little mean way. "Feeling ashamed because of that? Since when? I thought you like to talk about facts ..." His grip on my hair tightens. "So assertive, Chishiya ..."

"Y/N, please ... you ... torture me enough ... please ... seeing you laying in front of my like that with your head almost between my legs, it makes me going insane ..."

"It really does." To tease him a little more, I finally licked over his blood filled cock with just the tip of my tongue, making him hiss another time. "You really want me to suck your dick out, huh? Would that make you happy, Chishiya ...?" He gulps, trying to find his voice back.

"I-It would ..."

"Sure it would", I said calmly, smiling up to him. "You better enjoy this then, honey ... and don't you dare moving your hips yourself or my head, making me suck you as deep as you want- you know what that means, otherwise, so be a good guy~." With that I start taking his dick as deep with my mouth as I could.

He gives me a loud "F-Fuck ...!" but I don't care about it. I concentrate on the essentials. On his satisfaction. However, I can't deny that I'm not getting horny myself from what we're doing here, which is why I occasionally let out a little moan myself. Good for him, I guess. The vibrations that arise for him must bring a certain something with them. At least, he seems to enjoy it.

This is made clear to me by his increasingly loud tones, which leave his lips uncontrollably. Every time I let his cock enter my mouth - where I lick my tongue over his tip, which is covered by his precum - his pleasant voice comes into play.

"Y/N, I-I'm ..." In my head I already say the sentence: do it.

Come inside me. But I can't bring myself to say it. Admittedly, I don't even want to. I don't want to make him wait any longer and deny him his orgasm, so I just keep sucking and bumping my head up and down, until he finally starts shaking a little and starts calling my name, pressing my head a little down by reflex, to inject his seeds as deep as possible into my throat.

And I swallow it. I swallow every drop he is losing or even pressing out of his shaft, until his dick feels finally empty again. I lick and suck him completely clean- and with a satisfied grin, I let go of him with the aim of lying down next to him again while he tries to catch his breath, watching him.

"And?", I ask, "you feeling better now?"

"Stupid question", he says, but laughs while shaking his head and puts his pants back on, before immediately and unexpected rolling a little over me. „Anyways ..." He looks me deep into my eyes, putting his hand onto my naked belly, which now makes me gulp and him smiling a little evil. "Now it's my turn to give you what you deserve ..."

#chishiya smut #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland smut #chishiya x you #chishiya x reader smut #chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya imagine #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib x you #aib #nijiro murakami

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catnipaddictt · 2 months

Text

Abstract

wc: 2.1k

series masterlist ⭑ co-creator @memoiich

You had finally moved away from your hometown. A final answer to your undying search for independence. A trait your mothers whipped tongue had tried to rein back for years. Something that had very clearly failed. The thought alone made you smirk a bit as you stood before your new home. The Alderaan apartments were a choice at best. Very cheap for the location being so close to the centre of the city but a little decrepit. Still it felt like a palace to you right now.

You made your way up to the 4th floor, the highest of the crumbling building. Leaving you to look out to the curtains of the slightly nicer hotel on the other side of the street. Grabbing your suitcase, you unpacked your luggage before coming to the realisation that you had no food in your new home. And of course it just had to be dark outside, evening having set. After overthinking your options you decided to ask your neighbour for some eggs. Dragging yourself to your neighbour’s door with your metaphorical tail between your legs, you knocked on the door.

A strange being poked its face through the slightest gap possible, it looked around worried. You didn’t know if it was to look for trouble or to find it. After the anxiety-writing look, the creature opened the creaking door. Now that you could see it, It was clearly a Gungan.

“Hello. Missa Jar Jar Binks. Why are you at misssas door?“ he questions “Hey, I'm your new neighbour. I was wondering if I could borrow some eggs?“ You say, a bit unsure of the Gungan in front of you. “Missa loves eggs. Sun sun or scrambled, lovely for my tumtum” jar jar snickers at the end. ”So… Can I use the eggs? You question once again. “Missa doesn’t have any eggs for sunsun but missa could go to the store for stuff and stuff.” Not only did you think of going to the store before you were now massively disappointed and also extremely tired. The less effort option was clearly the wrong one.

“No it's fine I will go myself thank you anyways.” Before finishing Jar Jar was already speaking, “It's not a big dealio, you newbie don't know the way like missa does.” Before you could protest against this clearly exhausting task, he was already out of the door and started walking towards the staircase. Not wanting to be rude, you followed. It took 17 minutes longer than normal to get to the store because Jar Jar wanted to ‘cut a cornerio’. Once at the store Jar Jar started to argue after eating a RAW egg “As a tasty jum jum” Only after 36 min of arguing and you finally offering to just buy the dozen did you start to make your way back home which also took a small hour.

You could finally bid Jar Jar goodnight. You got home just to cook the damn eggs ‘sun-sun’ style and went to bed in the early morning, you already knew this new life was going to be hard at first.

Waking up had never been so hard before, but the alarm was ringing and today was an important one. It was your first day at your new job at the paper company, ‘Paper Force’. Paper Force was located pretty far away, you would have to drive past the mustafar part of the city, making it a long trip for a very tired driver. Prepping for work wasn't the worst as you had laid out your work outfit the night before.

You got in your beat-up 2002 beetle and started the 50 minute commute. At the 20 minute point your car started to rumble, not just a soft snore, no, a rumble. 10 minutes later and you were stuck by the side of the road. You search an auto shop on your hologram immediately. The only car mechanic that wasn't 2 hours away was a place called ‘MustaCar’. Having no time to waste, you called the number.

45 long minutes later an old pickup truck pulls up behind your still-not-starting beetle. By this point you were frankly very annoyed. You were already half an hour late to your new job, and it didn't seem like you were going to get there soon. And to make things worse, you slept bad last night, meaning you were now rather sleep deprived.

The door to the pickup truck swings open with a clunk, clearly well used. A man in his early to mid 20’s steps out of the vehicle, he reaches up and moves his dark-blond curls out of his field of vision. He wears an oil-stained long sleeved button up, of which you cannot tell the original colour, as well as a pair of dirtied jeans. He spots you, puts his hands in his pockets and stalks over, clearly in no hurry.

“I was just thinking you weren't going to bother showing up” you snapped at him harshly. “Well, sorry Miss, the rest of the world doesn’t revolve around you” You let out a sharp breath at his words. “Excuse me, just look at my car and do your job”. You were fed up with this day already and now you had to deal with a know-it-all, stuck-up, man-child of a mechanic. “Parents didn’t teach you manners I see, now what seems to be the matter here? So I can do my job” He walks towards your car, popping the lid. You roll your eyes at him before speaking. “Well she won't go” He rolls up his sleeves, “Figured that much” he states. Your brows furrow in annoyance, you don’t have time for his attitude, “something started making noise and now she doesn't want to run.” He leans forward to observe your car’s engine. “She, huh, does the lovely lady have a name as well?” You can hear his smirk through his words. Your ears turn red “Shelby, the car is called Shelby”. The mechanic lets out a harsh laugh as he turns to something unknown “An old lady I suppose then, with a name like that”. You let out a huff and turn away.

“Dead Battery and the terminals are corroding”. You jump slightly, having zoned out. “Sorry?” you question. “You have a dead battery and its terminals are also corroding. Oh and you have a break problem, that's what the noise was”. You stand there a bit perplexed, “Uh what does that mean?”. “It means you aren’t gonna be able to drive Shelby until you get her fixed”. He says the name of your car amusingly. “So can you do it then?” You ask, checking your hologram for the time, you were almost an hour late already. “Well that's my job isn’t it?” He raises an eyebrow. You sigh, clearly this guy thought highly of himself. “How much and how long?” you demand, patient wearing thin at this point. “Well the battery change is gonna be about 150, plus the corrosion, about 20, and the grinding breaks, another 150 credits” he pauses before speaking again, “it’ll take a bit, have to order in the parts, could take a while, a few weeks”. “A few weeks!” you all but shout.

You pace away, trying to think. You were very very late, had little to no sleep, and now your beloved car wasn’t going, plus you might have to wait weeks to get her back running. “Fine, do what you must” you bark out. Hopefully this man could fix Shelby quickly, and you would never have to deal with him or another car problem ever again. “Need anything out of her? Or are you good?” He asks. You walk over to Shelby, grab your bag, morning caffeine fix, and sweater. You shut the door gently. The guy speaks, walking back over to the pickup truck “Okay then, I’ll take her into the shop and she’ll be good as new soon. Oh and I will probably need some contact details, unless you never want to see your car again” He walks back carrying a piece of blue-ish paper and a pen with the ‘MustaCar’ logo on the side, passing both to you. You write down your information and hand it back to his expecting hand. “You should come by the shop, I’m sure the guys would love that” And with a smirk and a wink, he turns, secures Shelby, and gets back into the pickup. You watch as he drives off with your prized possession, your Shelby, If he ruins her, he will have hell to pay. You had now been walking for 30 minutes, with your workplace still another 20 minutes away. Your hair sticks to your forehead with sweat and your feet are starting to ache. The music playing in your ears is a nice distraction from your situation as you stroll at pace. Finally after what feels like a millennium, you reach the building. The large blue letters spell ‘Paper Force’, meaning you haven’t gotten lost along the way. Making your way to the building, you check your reflection in a window, fix your hair, and give yourself a mental pep talk. Just go in, explain what happened, it will all be fine. At least you hope. With a deep breath and step inside.

Pulling up the shop with a rumble, the pickup-truck deposits his newest client's female car around the back. The fading MustaCar sign blinks slowly at him as he gets out the parked truck and steps foot on solid ground. The beetle named Shelby looks out of place among the beat up vehicles, and forgotten projects of the shop. “Anakin” A female voice yells from inside the garage before a young togruta steps out. She wears overalls and a pair of safety goggles on her head. “New project Snips” He says. “What's wrong with it? It looks pretty good to me” the togruta states as she walks over and runs a hand over the bonnet. “Battery is dead, corrosion, and breaks need new pads” Anakin explains, counting off each problem on his fingers. “We are gonna need to order stuff in for her”. The togruta laughs “Her?” she questions. Anakin sighs “Yes, Ahsoka, Her. Owner calls it Shelby". “Cute” Ahsoka shrugs “lets see what we can do”.

“Well the brake pads are definitely going to have to be replaced, there is basically nothing there” Ahsoka looks up as she speaks. “Thought as much, '' replies Anakin, as he wanders over with two cups of coffee, he passes one to Ahsoka. “Thanks”. “I placed an order for the new battery and brake pads, should take a week to arrive, but knowing the shipping times, it will probably take longer than that” Anakin says as he surveys Shelby. “At least she isn’t a complete wreck”. Ahsoka nods behind Anakin “speaking of wrecks, how is that project coming along ''. Anakin turns to look at the car sitting under a large tree. He had picked up the third generation Pontiac firebird from a man on his deathbed; it had been living in a barn for 20 years, rusted, and in desperate need of restoration. If it even could be saved. “It's a work in progress Snips”, “I don’t know, it is rusted pretty bad in some of it, it will take a genius to make it run again”, “Good thing i’m here then” He replies with a smile. Ahsoka rolls her eyes and drains the last of her drink before returning to their newest project.

A voice pulls Anakin out of his work “Anakin, I need to speak to you”. The voice comes from an elderly man, Palpatine, the creator and owner of MustaCar. “Of course” Anakin wipes the oil off his hands on a nearby cloth, before throwing it back on the table and following Palpatine. They enter the main office of the shop and Palpatine closes the door behind them. “Sith Auto Dominion is growing. At this rate we will be losing profit by the same time next month” Palpatine states. Sith Auto Dominion was the biggest competition for MustaCar, located on the other side of town on Geonosis Blvd. Over time the opposing shop had been taking their customers, meaning Palpatine and the people he employ have been having to cut costs however they can. “What can we do?” Anakin questions. “Not much my boy, we just have to be careful. I have owned this shop for 45 years and I will not see it go bankrupt” he takes a breath “You are my best mechanic Anakin, I cannot afford to lose you”. Palpatine walks around to his desk and sits down, gesturing at the seat opposite him. “I have a favour to ask you, Anakin”. “Anything” He replies. “Take your apprentice, go to Sith Auto, find out what they have that we don’t”

“Alright Snips, we have a job”

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yunhonumeris1fane · 8 months

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Mad at you•JYH

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"You've been under a lot of stress, struggling to take care of yourself, which made your boyfriend worry and caused a short fallout between you"

genre - angst to fluff

pairing - bf yunho x reader

warnings- an argument between the reader and Yunho.

"Y/n, why aren't you sleeping, I thought you came over to sleep" Yunho enters the living room, yawning excessively, as it was around 11 p.m.

Your upstairs neighbours have been renovating their apartament for weeks now, not feeling a tad bit guilty for disrupting your life even during late hours, weekends. You found yourself unable to focus and sleep, leaving you stressed out. Yunho suggested you to come over and stay at his place, to get a good night's sleep and do your projects, as it was peaceful here. And now that you're here, instead of going to sleep, you shrug it off and work on your projects.

"I'm really busy, I have two days to finish this project" you sigh, looking up to meet his eyes, he's not smiling as usual, instead there's worry lingering around his face.

"You can do it tomorrow. Go to sleep. When was the last time you had a full night's sleep huh. At least 5 hours?"

"Doesn't matter, go to sleep yourself, I'll join you later" You murmur, your half hooded eyes back on the laptop screen. Sleep deprivation is catching up.

"I can't stand watching you acting this stupid Y, get a grip of yourself " Yunho raises his voice a little, feeling hopeless, unsure of what else to do to help you.

"Then don't watch, just leave" you snap at him, as his face goes blank.

"You know, I really wanted to help you, but if you don't need my help, then it's fine" he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, disappointment in his voice is hard not to notice.

"I don't need help" you mumble, busy typing into the laptop, "leave me alone"

"Say that again" his jaw clenches, as he looks at you in disbelief, "and look me in the eyes"

You lift your eyes to face him, "c-can you stop talking please, l-leave, I-I'm busy" your voice breaks a little, as now not only your work is stressing you out, but Yunho's nagging too.

That is enough for Yunho, he gives up and goes back to his room, slamming the door shut.

'Was I too harsh?' You wonder to yourself, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. When you're under a lot of stress, the worst version of you tends to come out. You accidentally hurt people, even if you don't really mean it.

The guilt catches up with you, so you find yourself standing by the door to his bedroom. You really want to barge in and hug him, begging for forgiveness. But you can't seem to bring yourself up to knock on the door, so turn around and tippytoe back to the living room.

Yunho was really good at persuading people, as you are now closing your laptop shut and going to the bathroom, to take a shower, with a plan in mind to sleep on the couch later on.

As you're headed to the bathroom, Yunho comes out of his room, to get himself a glass of water. Your eyes meet for a second, but no words leave your mouths.

Once in the bathroom, you hang your clothes on the hook and step into the shower. In less than 30 minutes, you step out, water droplets running down all over your body. Your body feels clean, but inside you feel dirty.

As you fetch a large towel and wrap it around your body, securing it at top, you glance at the mirror, covered in fog, from the steamy shower earlier. Your head feels a little dizzy, you don't know whether it's from the lack of sleep, not eating well enough or stress. The longer you stare at yourself, the worse the dizziness gets. You take in a couple of deep breaths, but it doesn't help, once you start hearing ringing in your ears, you know you're done. And so you collapse, unable to hold yourself conscious for any longer.

When Yunho hears a loud thud coming from the bathroom, his heart stops for a moment. He abandons the glass of water and sprints to the bathroom. Swinging the door open, he sees your body laying on the tile floor. He quickly brings himself down to you, to check if you're hurt, but he doesn't see any wounds, so he slides his arms under your legs, your back and picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He gently lays your body down on the bed and goes back to the bathroom to take your clothes and change you into dry ones. Once he's done, he covers you with a blanket and sits beside you, patiently waiting for you to wake up.

Moments later you flutter your heavy eyelids and see Yunho holding your hand, a soft smile displayed on his face.

"I'm really sorry, I was so stressed, didn't know what I was talking about" you apologise to him, as your other hand finds its way on top of his.

"It's okay silly, I know you didn't mean it" Yunho shows his understanding, speaking in a comforting, gentle voice.

"Go sleep, I'll go brush my teeth and be back" he smiles as he brings his lips to your forehead, placing a warm and loving kiss, before disappearing for a good five minutes.

When he's back, you make some space for him, as he slides his body under the covers and wraps his hands around your waist, bringing you closer to his body. Your back pressed against his chest, as he's nuzzled into your neck, taking it the sweet vanilla aroma from your shower gel.

"I love you, let's not fight again" Yunho suggests, as you feel his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of warm kisses.

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#jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #yunho x reader #yunho fluff #ateez x reader #ateez

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whereserpentswalk · 1 month

Text

There's a demon that's been spotted around your city, around your neighborhood. All the local monster hunters are getting ready to find it, it won't be the first time some dangerous creature got loose in your city and had a hunt out for it. But this one is dangerous, she's faster than most cyptids, humanoid but not from a humanoid species that's known or common, and she's deadly, a few days after she's spotted its found that she kills. Somebody was found dead in the winter snow, on a street corner, with her claw marks on his chest.

You're not a monster hunter. But you are interested in these types of things, and you thought you spotted her one night and chose to give chase, against your better judgment you gave chase. You just want to see her, you just want to see something so strange, so inhuman. And when you see her she's as strange as you can imagine, most of her looks humanoid, slender and graceful, like the most beautiful human you've ever seen, but she has eyes with slit pupils like a cats, and long horns coming from her head, and sharp teeth in her mouth, bat like wings come out her back, and a scorpion's tail from the base of her spine, and where her genitals should be, instead there's the body and head of a snake coming out of her body. She's beautiful and horrifying.

When she comes near you she doesn't hurt you, she just looks at your camera. She doesn't seem to know what it is. When she realizes you're as harmless as you are she let's down her guard. You're afraid, but you slowly realize she's not interested in hurting you. She seems cold, it's very cold and she's not wearing any clothing. You offer to let her into your apartment, just for a night, just because nomatter what she is she deserves to be warm.

She lays on your bed for awhile, she seems so excited just to be on a bed, just to see a bed. She spends awhile under the covers. You were originally planning on letting her sleep on your couch, but she seems so excited to have a comfy bed. She finds one of your plushes and starts cuddling it at one point. You've never seen someone so happy just to have a place to rest.

In the morning the demon is still there. You don't want to kick her out. You bring her food and she seems really paranoid, it seems like a lot of people have hurt her before. You have to leave the room while she eats. But she does seem really happy to have something to eat at all.

Eventually you ask her about who she is. She says she doesn't have a name, and doesn't remember when she was born. She admits to having killed those people, which scares you to be reminded of, it scares you to hear her say it. But she tells you they shot at her, and she doesn't seem like a good enough lier to lie about that. They shot at her the momment they saw her. She was demonized for it, but it's the right of all creatures to attack someone trying to kill them, rather than die.

She really likes being in your apartment. You let her barrow your clothes, though she doesn't like wearing clothing, except for pajamas which she wears when she sleeps. You show her cartoons she can watch, and give her paper and pencils to draw with. It takes awhile for her to be willing to show you her drawings, but when she does they're quite good, you compliment them, and her face lights up. It takes her awhile to feel comfortable being touched by you too, but when she let's you she starts to love your affection, she likes being pet, and hugged, and cuddled, you don't think she's felt these things in a long time.

You let her stay longer than you expected too. There's still people hunting her. And there's still the winter, she says she's been through worse, but it's getting colder. Eventually you even introduce her to some freinds who you know you can trust. You just let her rest there, and part of you home this can just be a way she can exist, getting to draw, and have her head pet, and laying in bed when she wants to. You end up talking with her a lot, she's passionate about stories, and about things she finds pretty, and she loves asking you about the world, and about humanity, about all these things that are alien to her.

Eventually she tells you she has to leave. You try to tell her to stay a little longer, but it's a demon's nature to be free. She's been hurt by humans before, hurt by more than cold and bullets, but by binding spells, and deals she shouldn't have made. And as spring comes she needs to find a new city, and new space to exist it. You spend your last night together cuddling in your bed, and she tells you of ancient lands, and stories nobody else remembers. And then in the morning she's gone, she said she might visit you again, but for now she's gone. You thought you would see her leave but she spared you that pain, she thanked you for being warm to her as you fell asleep, and let your hands run across her cold skin. And now your room lays empty.

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emojellyace08 · 5 months

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I had this very sad idea..can we have a reader who has like this terminal illness and they don't really have much time to live yk? Like maybe 6 or 5 months. So they try to hide it from their partner but fail to. How do u think lookism characters would react to this?

Lookism Cast x Gender Neutral Reader (Angst)

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐥) 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 (𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬/𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞-𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞, 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 (𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞 :)

It might not be obvious that he's a sweetheart at times but he's the complete opposite of it. He's so loyal to you. When your symptoms started to show up, he's always there to take care of you. He even left his work behind to make sure you're eating and sleeping well.

But sadly life is no fairy tale as your sickness started to get worse. You decided to set up a schedule for your check-up alone as you don't want to bother him with his duties. You thought that it's just a severe headache or your body being simply tired and needed pills to ease the pain. But your world shattered into pieces when your doctor finally revealed the results that you have a terminal disease. Everyone in your position will panic as the promises, goals in life, and dreams that you made to yourself, to your family, to your friends, and most especially to him may come to an end. As panicked as you are, of course you didn't announced this big news to them as you don't want them to feel distressed at your situation.

Yet your loved ones and him noticed your sudden change of energy. The change of your face and body that was once energetic and productive seemed to have changed for the worse. Eyes hollow, your daily routine changed as you started to stay in your bed for longer hours, and you sometimes eating less. He's really worried at you but you just brushed it off saying that you're fine, lying to them as you want to keep the burden to yourself. There would be times that you would accidentally lash out your stress and anger about yourself to him, which makes him surprised and confused about why you are acting like this. "Y/N Can you just let me-" "WILL YOU LEAVE ME ALONE FOR A MOMENT?! YOU KEPT BOTHERING ME WITH SIMPLE THINGS THAT I CAN DO FOR MYSELF." you replied in a bold tone as you can almost see him tearing up at your sudden aggression. "What? Love, w-why are you acting like this?". he muttered, his face scrunched feeling like a hindrance yet you want him to feel the exact opposite, you trying to force yourself not to burst down crying with him right now. Well, what's the point of living when you only have years or probably just months left? Is the only answer you can think about yet you have lost courage to say it in front of him as you don't want him to become more puzzled as he is with your recent behavior.

But it didn't took long for him to finally know your secret. Since your place has turned into a mess like your life and health, he insisted to help you out in cleaning your apartment/bed room. Just as he's wiping off the dust in the shelf and drawers, he saw your medical tests some of the x-rays, medical bills, and receipts of the pills that you have to take to reduce the chance of your illness getting worse and lengthen your chance of surviving. His mind would pause to think for seconds as he finally realized what's happening and what's your situation. Is this why you're acting distant to him? To your family and to your friends? Is this why he's not seeing you happy and energetic like you supposed to be? What about your plans with him? Most especially, what about your health? Your physical and mental wellness?

He'll try to approach you softly since he doesn't want to overwhelm you despite him having a mental crisis and being emotional about why you didn't open up about it. "Babe, what's this?" he confronted you while showing the medical papers making you dropped the dishes on the sink that you are washing. "HEY-W-Where did you find that?" you stuttered, you rubbing your hands and arms on your apron and rushed to him while he examines your medical sheets. "Love, be honest with me. I-Is this why you're acting different?" he asked as you can see his mouth turn into a frown, his eyebrows scrunching in distress while his orbs turn red as tears fall down his cheeks. "Well.. I... I tried to speak up about it but... I'm scared that you'll worry too much and work harder just for the bills. I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." you sobbed as he drops the papers on the floor, him hugging and comforting you as he realized that you're scared to leave him and leave everyone who became dear to you.

After that confrontation, you'll start to open up to him about what you're going through. You explaining that you only had few years to live and you'll be considered lucky if you lasted longer. Hearing this from you shatters his heart like fragile glass. Listening to this is enough for him to spiral into a pit of depression when he realizes that he can only spend some remaining years with the love of his life. He wanted you to stay with him longer. He wants to see you reach your own dreams and he wants to have a family with you in the near future. But this obstacle is challenging your relationship right now, but that doesn't mean that he'll quickly give up. He'll make sure that you'll live and cherish your life longer.

He'll make sure that he'll attend with you with every check-ups that you're scheduled in. He'll even prepare you healthy snacks even when he's not so confident about his cooking skills, make sure that you're taking your medications in the right time, and he'll cuddle with you in bed. And there would be lots of times that you'll have soft talks with him about the things that you missed doing with him like going out on dates even when it's not your anniversary or even if there's no special occasion. But you remained to be thankful for being gifted that you have a partner like him who remained patient and understanding about your situation. You may not notice that he's trying to force back his tears again as he doesn't want to make you upset when you talk about your thoughts. Your pain is even killing him more, mentally and emotionally.

When you started staying in the hospital when you're condition is starting to get worse, he started to staying and spending more time with you. He even abandons his work/studies at times which makes you genuinely worried that he may get sued for leaving his responsibilities behind. But he doesn't care anymore if he needs to leave you alone in the hospital room. But he's also stressed about how he's going to pay the medical bills if he doesn't get up and work. Luckily, his family and his friends are considerate enough to help him out in taking good care of you. It takes a while for the both of you to adjust with your new lifestyle, but you're really glad to spend more time with them as they'll even surprise you in your birthdays!

And when he's starting to feel stressed out about your bills and your remaining time left, he'll unexpectedly burst into tears no matter what time or place he's in. As much as you don't want him to see him like this, his eyes would water down when he's beside you on the bed while kissing your hand a bunch of times. Him making eye-contact with your exhausted ones just triggers that familiar yet different kind of anxiety that he's feeling this past few days. His cries would be silent, but remember that the ones who tears up silently are the ones with the most worries, troubles, and burdens that's in their shoulders. "Don't leave me, you promised." he muttered while leaning on your lap while you pat and soothe his hair. "I won't. I promised to fight back right?" you whispered while he sobs even more, his tears staining the sheets yet you don't care about the mess as you try to comfort him even though you know that there's a possibility that the time may come for you no matter how hard you fought. "Love you... love you so and very much..." he would repeat to make you know that you're not alone in this battle. "I love you more darling." cooing him as you leaned closer to kiss his head to calm him down.

His friends and your family would notice his depressed state as he opens up about his fears of losing you, the person who made him love himself and to be open with new people. His friends would share a tear with him as they feel empathy, the feeling of loosing their special someone in the hands of a deadly disease. They would give him a few encouraging and soft pats on his back and shoulders to ease himself up. But no matter what methods of comfort they tried to lift up his spirits, his monsters would eat him wholly as the darkness would linger in his mind.

He's the type to cuddle with you on the hospital bed despite him being hesitant that you'll feel squished when he sleeps beside you. But if you insist to, his wish is to make you happy and content so he'll gently place himself beside you. And he'll sing you a lullaby or your favorite song if you asked to. He'll get nervous when you asked him to as he's afraid that him singing when you drift of to sleep maybe your final goodbye to him. "Silly, I'm not going away. I just wanna hear your voice, please?" you begged as he chuckles while kissing your head leisurely. "Okay. I'll sing for you."

⤷ 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐙𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐨 (𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐞), 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐄𝐥𝐢 𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐞, 𝐉𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐧 & 𝐉𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦 𝐊𝐰𝐚𝐤, 𝐉𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐰𝐚𝐤, 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤, 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐉𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐊𝐰𝐨𝐧, 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐧, 𝐆𝐨𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 (𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲), 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐨 (𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞), 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐆𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐦, 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐧, 𝐘𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐤, 𝐁𝐚𝐞𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐥 (𝐍𝐨. 𝟏) 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐞 (𝐃𝐆), 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐦 (𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦), 𝐃𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧, 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐮𝐡𝐞𝐢, 𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞, 𝐇𝐮𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐡𝐧, 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐨 𝐌𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 𝐉𝐢

A/N: I want it to make it short but powerful. (Literally sobbing rn while writing this I remember my grandma who passed away years ago and I didn't even gave her a proper goodbye). But ty for requesting.

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐜𝐞𝟎𝟖. 𝐑𝐞-𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐓𝐲!

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