#but the plot is done in a sense that everything is planned out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alidiggory92 · 1 month ago

Text

Reach

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel and reader's beginning. A new start away from the QZ.

Notes/tags: Rating: (16+) age gap (Joel is 50s, reader 20s) prequel(ish) to His Girl, slow burn, plot is all over the place, plot doesn't make sense, time skips, no smut, reader is in a weird headspace (aka she's traumatized but not from Joel), lingering touches, mean!joel (kinda), brief spanking (not sexual), swearing, pining, sharing a bed, reader becomes a bit dependent. I think that's all?

WC: 5.5K

A/N: Thank you for all the love on my one shot! You don't need to read it in order to understand this part. This is all the beginning. Please read the tags, if anything is not your thing, that's fine! You don't have to read it. Sorry (not sorry) for the slow burn guys. There will be smut, I promise. Just working out the timeline and other things.

Dividers by: @uzmacchiato

The vine divider is not by them, but I can't find who I got it from. Message me to be credited.

Being Joel’s smuggling partner wasn’t easy. Hell, you had only begun to smuggle to get some extra money and trading cards. Doing business alongside Joel wasn’t your choice, either. He’d persuaded you into joining him. One, the reason being that a young girl getting into trading was a recipe for assault and black eyes. Two, Joel cared about you. Even if he would never say it out loud.

To you, he was the old grump who took you under his wing. To him, you were the fragile little girl who came sobbing to him after a FEDRA soldier gave you a palm to the cheek. You still remember the way Joel’s jaw clenched when he saw the red mark. He didn’t say a word, just handed you a cloth with ice wrapped inside and disappeared for the rest of the night. The soldier didn’t show up on patrol again. Ever.

And after that, Joel made it real clear: you don’t run jobs without him.

The weeks that followed were loud—sirens, shouting, curfews, lock downs. The QZ was tightening its grip and Joel had started keeping a packed bag under the floorboards.

“You paranoid?” you asked once, seeing the extra rounds and ration cards he was tucking into a duffel.

He didn’t answer. Just looked at you in that way he did sometimes—like he was already planning five steps ahead of you, of the world, of everything.

The final straw came when one of your regular drop spots got raided. You were late meeting Joel. You came back scraped up, coughing from tear gas, and Joel didn’t yell. Didn’t say anything at all.

Just handed you that same cloth-wrapped ice and started packing his bag again. But this time, yours too.

“We’re done here,” he said, voice flat. “We’re gettin’ out.”

Joel entered the rustic home with a slam of the door. You look up from your spot on the ground, fiddling with the frayed strings at the end of your dress.

He sits down on the warped couch with a thud. He rubs the bridge of his nose. He’s exhausted, you can tell. It’s only been about six weeks of knowing the man. You still don’t know him all that well, and yet; you let him take you out of the QZ, and into this small house in Maine. Somehow you trusted him, but there was a rooted fear of him.

You still didn’t know why you trusted him. Maybe it was the way he’d looked at you that first night after the raid—steady, unreadable. Maybe it was the way he hadn’t hesitated to drag you out of hell. Or maybe it was because, despite the rough edges and gravel-thick voice, he hadn't touched you. Not the way you feared.

Still, there was something heavy about Joel. Not cruel. But dangerous in a way you couldn’t name. Like he could hurt someone with his hands and still sleep through the night.

He’d warned you, time and time again, about the kind of men who’d take advantage of a girl like you. Too young. Too trusting. Too pretty. You weren’t stupid. You knew he hadn’t pulled you out of Boston just because he was feeling generous.

You just prayed his reasons weren’t the same as the ones he listed off like threats.

Your chin drops to your knee as you peek over at him, watching through the corner of your eye. He sat wide-legged on the couch, still rubbing at his face, the stretch of muscle in his forearms taut beneath rolled-up sleeves.

He hadn’t looked at you once since walking in. Not yet. And that made your stomach twist a little more than you wanted to admit.

The silence stretches on. The windows rattle from the wind outside, making you shiver. Though, it’s a small comfort to you, considering it’s far from the QZ. Here, it’s just Joel with the weight of what he won’t say.

You shift on the splintered floor, hugging your knees to your chest. Joel hasn’t even taken off his jacket. He sits like he doesn’t trust the couch even.

“Are you mad?” You ask, quietly but clear.

Joel pauses the rubbing of his nose, his eyes flicking to you, then back down at his lap.

“I ain’t mad.” He says finally, gruff and low. “Just tired.”

“I didn’t mean to get into trouble with the guy at the checkpoint.”

His jaw tensed. The subtle tick. Not anger, just restraint.

“I know.” He muttered.

You knew better. You’d been the one who made the smart-ass comment. The one who almost got you both caught. Joel covered it, like he always did, being mean and loud enough to distract the guards while fisting the contraband (you) out of sight.

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” You mumbled.

Joel grunted, something between agreement and a sigh.

Another pause. Joel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He stares and the floor when he speaks again.

“You’re young.” He mutters, like the statement alone explains everything.

“You say that like it’s a sin.”

“It’s not,” he says. “It’s a danger.”

You nearly scoff, “What, to you?”

His jaw clenches again, he lifts his gaze to you, “To yourself.”

You rest your cheek on your knee, your eyes on him. “I’m not a kid.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“You didn’t have to.” You snip, making Joel shoot you a warning look.

The moment slips back into silence. Again.

You’d freaked yourself out. Coming to the conclusion that Joel wasn’t a good man was hard for you. How did you come to it? You don’t know. But, you still find yourself in the woods, not far from the house, barefoot and your dress now muddy at the ends.

Stupid escape. You didn’t even plan it. But seeing Joel put locks on the windows made you freak, memories coming back from before that you didn’t want to remember.

Suddenly, Joel became the bad guy in your mind, and you needed to leave. Him taking you out of the QZ wasn’t a heroic act, it was a scary one.

You run through the muddy woods, feet slipping beneath you, breathless. You stop when you hear a twig snap, backing up against a tree.

It was nearly 4am, and you knew that Joel was asleep when you left.

Despite being with him for over a month, living with him, you could never tell if he slept deeply or not.

You facepalmed, realizing he likely heard you shut the window when you climbed out. You’re so fucked.

You look back towards the way you ran from. The house was still in sight, making you realize you hadn’t run as far as you thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“You’re not thinkin’ straight,” comes his voice– quiet, gravelly, just a few feet away.

You flinch, turning your head. He’s there, standing half in shadow, half moonlight, boots sunk slightly in the mud. His shoulders are tense, chest rising and falling as if he just sprinted. For you.

You don’t speak.

Joel takes a step closer, “You runnin’ out barefoot like that? What the hell were you thinkin’?”

Shame crawls up your throat, “I wasn’t– I just-”

“You think I dragged you all the way outta Boston to hurt you?” His voice is sharp. He almost sounds hurt. “You think that low of me?”

“I don’t know what to think.” You mumbled.

He runs a hand through his messy hair, exhaling hard. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You blink tears, “You locked the windows.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “To keep people out. Not to keep you in. You’re not a damn prisoner.”

You stare at the ground, seeing the mud squishing between your toes.

His hands are on you– not rough, not angry. Just firm.

“You don’t gotta trust me yet,” he says quietly, tilting your chin up, “but don’t run from me in the damn woods in the middle of the night. You could’ve froze, broke your ankle, got snatched–”

“I’m sorry.” You squeak.

He sighs heavily. Something in his eyes changes. His hands tighten on your arms.

“You wanna act reckless?” he asks, his voice low, “I oughta show you what happens when you pull shit like that.” He grabs you, putting you over his shoulder, fireman carry style.

You kicked, yelping a bit. A sharp smack lands on your ass, which makes you flinch and stop resisting.

He carries you all the way back to the house.

You start to cry, panicking. He was angry, you knew. It shakes you to your core, wondering if Joel’s going to snap on you or not.

Once you're inside, he sets you on your feet. His hand slips to the back of your neck, warm and steady. Not rough–but there’s no mistaking the warning in his touch.

“You know how close I was to thinkin’ you got snatched? That someone dragged you off while I was sleepin’?”

“I… I didn’t mean to scare you.” you stuttered.

“You did,” he snaps, then softens, “And now you’re gonna understand what it feels like when you do.”

He turns you gently, but there’s power behind it. You plant your hands on the wall beside the front door. He stands directly behind you, hand on your low back.

“You run off like that again,” He warns gruffly, “I won’t be so nice about it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding. Maybe you were right about Joel.

His chest brushes your back, his belt buckle pressing against your spine.

“What are you gonna do?” You sniffle, trembling.

“Whatever it takes to remind you that you know better.”

Your legs shake, both from trembling and exhaustion. Joel tsks, “Look at you,” he breathes, his mouth pressing against the back of your neck, “All muddy. Could’ve broken your fuckin’ ankle, runnin’ out there with no shoes. Killed yourself, even.”

“I didn’t think–”

“No, you didn’t.” his hand pulls up the hem of your dress, and the other comes down with a slap.

You flinch, pressing your lips together in a thin line. Memories of before flooding your brain. Joel wasn’t Joel anymore, in your mind. You let out a cry, “Dad, Please–” but he doesn’t hear you.

“You scared me.” he says again, more authoritative than before. “You know better.” he states again. “You learnin’ yet, or–”

“I’m learning, I’m learning!” you whimper, almost sobbing at this point.

Joel sighs, realizing he’s likely just scared you more than make you understand. He pauses, then shakes his head.

He releases the hold he had on your dress, smoothing the fabric down. He steps back, giving you space.

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

“I don’t need your sorry.” Joel shakes his head, “Need your trust.”

You still tremble. If he wants your trust so badly–which he almost had it, until you freaked yourself out, then he spanked you– why was he being like this?

“Why did locking the windows make you run?” He asked.

You didn’t want to answer that. Not when he just reminded you of the last person you wanted to think of.

“Answer me.” He commanded.

“I’ve. I’ve-” You stutter, still shaken, “Been locked in before.”

You feel him pause, even with you facing away.

“Okay.” He says after a moment.

Everything is still. Joel looks at your shaking body again.

“Shit.” he mutters, rubbing his beard with his hand. “You should’ve told me.” he said under his breath, you barely heard it.

You lean forward against the wall, heart hammering. Your fingers digging into the wood. You don’t trust your voice, not in this state.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to scare you,” Joel says, his voice thick, quieter now. “I lost my goddamn mind when I saw that window open. Thought–”

He cuts himself off.

Then, he’s pulling you back from the wall, gently. His hands around your waist, lifting you just enough to turn you around. Facing him. His expression is unreadable, to you anyways.

His thumbs rub at your sides, more grounding himself than you.

“I’m sorry,” he says. This time it’s him apologizing. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t’ve.. Jesus, I wouldn’t’ve touched you like that if I knew.”

Your eyes sting. You shake your head, feeling guilt. “I freaked out, I didn’t give you a chance to–”

“No.” he interrupts, sternly. “You were scared. You had a reason. That’s enough.”

You sniffle again, your nose scrunched. He pulls you closer, arms wrapped around your shoulders.

“I ain’t him.” Joel says. More reminding himself.

You nod, your forehead tucked against his chest.

“I trust you,” you whimper, “I just forget sometimes.”

Joel breathes deeply, “I’ll remind you better next time.” His chin rests on top of your head, fighting the urge to kiss it.

He pulls back enough to look at you. His brows furrowed, something in his expression has softened–less anger, more regret.

He mumbles something about cleaning you up. You nod, eyes still glassy, letting him guide you to the bathroom.

Joel is silent as he grabs a cloth, a bucket, and an old first aid kit from under the sink. You watch as he fills the bowl with warm water (as warm as it can be just coming from the tap).

He sits you down on the toilet seat, kneeling before you. He doesn’t meet your eyes, only taking your left ankle in his hand, checking for swelling.

“Hurts?” he asks.

You shake your head, though the scrape on your heel stings when he brushes the cloth over it. Joel notices your flinch and goes slower.

You both sit in silence as he tends to your scraped and muddy feet. Once he’s cleaned the worst is it, he tries to disinfect the best he can with the expired (and dried out) disinfectant.

“You don't gotta explain what happened.” Joel says, his voice low. “Not until you’re ready.”

You only nod, still a bit scared to speak.

Joel finishes wrapping gauze around your feet, then sets the supplies back under the sink, then rests his hands on your knees.

“It gets too much,” he starts, not meeting your eyes, “You talk to me.” He says. A command this time, not a request.

You nod again, eyes still stinging from earlier. “Okay.”

It’s been two weeks since that night. Since you ran barefoot through the trees like something feral, stupid and scared, and Joel carried you back like you were something. Something his.

Things haven’t changed in any loud, dramatic way. No tangled up nights anymore. Just… small shifts.

He doesn’t hover anymore, but doesn’t keep his distance either. When you sit too long reading in the chair near the fire, he tosses you his jacket without a word. When your hands shake trying to light the stove, his settle over yours. Just anchoring you.

You sleep in your own bed. Most nights. But sometimes, on the bad ones, you wake up and find his flannel jacket draped over the end of the mattress. He never says anything about it, and neither do you.

You find yourself starting to crave the quiet between you– the kind that doesn’t ask anything, doesn’t pressure. Just is.

This afternoon, he comes back to the house from the shed.

Joel let you outside (with his supervision, of course), and you soaked up any bit of it that you could.

He walks up to you on the porch with something in his hand.

It’s small. Square. Covered in dust and is probably as old as he is.

“I found this in the shed,” he mutters, holding it out to you. “Think it still works.”

You blink down at it. Your brows furrow.

“It’s a Polaroid camera.” Joel adds, noticing your confusion.

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Just figured you’d wanna mess with it.”

Your chest tightens in a weird, unexplainable way. You take it gently from his hands, your thumb brushing against his knuckle.

“There’s film in here,” he murmurs, “Two, maybe three shots left from what I can guess.”

He leans back against the porch railing, arms crossed. You can tell he’s trying to act indifferent. Like he doesn’t care if you use it or chuck it. But he brought it to you. That alone means something.

“A little sentimental for you.” you tease quietly.

Joel scoffs. “Just figured you might want proof we made it this far.”

You pause, looking up.

Those words settle. Low in your ribs, right where all the fragile parts of you live. You want to ask if he means you, specifically. If he thinks you made it. But you don’t.

“I wanna take your picture,” you say instead, voice soft.

“Me?”

You nod.

He raises a brow. “The hell for?”

“So I can remember you like this,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Not just the grumpy old man who dragged me out of Boston.”

The silence stretches as he looks at you. God, you look like just a little girl. Not in a weird way, but in the way that he almost feels paternal towards you. Almost.

Eventually, Joel exhales through his nose and walks over to the armchair near the window, the one he always sits in after dinner to drink his coffee.

He doesn’t pose. Just sits, arms still crossed, watching you like he’s waiting for you to change your mind. You fiddle with the camera, eventually figuring out how to take a photo. You lift it, framing him in the viewfinder.

He looks good, you had to admit to yourself. Taking a bit longer to position the camera just to look at him like this. He looks rumpled, a little tired, but calm. Open in his Joel way. Which is to say: not open at all, but less closed.

You press the button.

Click. Shhh, shhh, brrr.

The camera makes a loud whirring noise as the film shoots out. You take it in your palm, seeing no photo. Just white film

“Shake it.” Joel says.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You know, shake it like a Polaroid.” he says a bit of a song in his tone.

You shake it hesitantly, and Joel nods. He doesn’t ask to see the photo. He just watches as you place it face down. “It’ll take a few minutes to develop.” Joel muttered, standing up with a grunt, nodding for you to follow him back inside. You grab the Polaroid from the porch.

Joel grunts, watching you walk inside, shutting the door behind you, then looking at you. You watch as he locks the door, then puts the key on the kitchen table. You swallow, but don’t say anything. You have gotten better with locks. Kind of.

You walk into the kitchen, placing the photo on the table, watching him look through what little food you had, and what has grown since you got here.

Joel notices your proximity to him as he bustles around. He stops, looking at you. You’re in that little white night dress again. From the night he ‘punished’ you. Now, you don’t consider it punishment, you did deserve it, in a way.

“Still stained, huh?” he asked, his hand fiddling with the strap on your shoulder.

You nod, “The mud wouldn’t come out.”

He looks at you for a moment, “It adds character.”

That alone made your lips twitch a bit. Almost a smile. Joel notices and he mirrors your expression.

“Well,” he changed the subject. “I got about… four small potatoes from the garden. And,” he looks around then points to the door, “A small rabbit that I snared earlier.”

You frown a bit. You knew Joel had to kill animals so you both could eat, but you liked rabbits. Especially when they would hop around in the garden outside, their little noses sniffing.

Joel pauses, “Hey,” he grabs your chin so you hold eye contact with him. You found out early on that that was important to him.

“I’ll tell you when I skin it, you can… go in your room and do whatever it is you do in there.”

You nod, a small frown still on your lips.

“‘Sides, you like rabbit stew.”

You did. You didn’t get it often, but you did like it.

“Yeah.” you mumbled, rubbing your collarbone.

He pauses again. “You still don’t like when I lock the door, do you?”

You glance over at it. Then back to him.

“It’s easier now,” you say. “Still… not perfect.”

Joel nods. “Alright. I’ll stop double-lockin�� it at night. Just one. You can check it if you need to.”

He doesn’t say “I trust you,” but you hear it in the space between those words.

You nod again, fiddling with your dress. “I oughta get you some pants. It’s gettin’ to be that time of the year.” Joel thinks out loud, peeling the potatoes with his pocket knife.

You only hum, staring at his hands as they work. The blade glints every so often as it slips under the skin of the potato, curling it off in ribbons. He’s done this before, with the amount of potatoes you’ve got. You can’t help but admire the way he handles the knife, slow and steady, it makes your heart beat a little faster.

Not because you’re scared. Not anymore.

But because there’s something in the way Joel moves– like nothing surprises him, nothing shakes him. Though you might’ve.

Regardless, he carries himself like if the world ended all over again, he’d still know how to cook dinner with whatever scraps are left.

And maybe that’s what unnerves you now. The steadiness.

Maybe you’ve gotten used to him. Too used to the smell of his flannel when you sleep. The way he always leaves a cup of water out for you before bed, just in case. The way he says, “you alright?” like it means more than it should.

You blink. Joel’s still peeling.

“You’re starin’, sweetheart.” he comments.

You feel your face blush. “I’m just tired.”

He nods. Doesn’t push. Just goes back to peeling the potatoes, like he didn’t just catch you ogling his hands.

Dinner is quiet. Not awkward like in previous weeks. Just warm, simple. Joel serves you first without thinking. You don’t comment on it, but it makes your stomach flutter.

You eat, curled into your usual spot at the table, with Joel sitting across from you. You were staring at him, a little too long to brush it off. He doesn’t mention it this time.

“Feet off the chair.” Joel snaps his fingers at you.

You uncurl yourself and sit up at the table. Though it was just you and Joel, he still taught you manners. He didn’t take it lightly when you sat like that at the table. Any other time was fine, but not during dinner.

You find yourself hunching again as you eat. “Slow down.” Joel said.

“This is slow.” you say, your mouth full.

He bites back a smirk, but reminds you again of posture at the table.

“Didn’t teach you to be a damn hunchback.” He grumbled.

You listen anyway, straightening up again, and he nods in approval.

You tossed and turned for what felt like hours. It was likely just half an hour, but how would you know?

You stare at your bedroom door. You huff, getting up. You don’t plan to move, but your feet do anyway.

You see Joel’s door is cracked open down the hallway, light flickers faintly from the inside. He’s still awake.

You knock softly, even though it’s stupid. Like asking permission to cross some invisible line neither of you has fully acknowledged yet.

Joel’s voice is low. “Come in.”

You push the door open gently.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, flannel draped over his lap, socks off now, his short sleeved t-shirt on display. He looks tired, and it hits you suddenly,-- how safe he looks. Safe in a way that makes you ache a bit.

“I can’t sleep.” you say.

He nods understandingly.

“You can sit if you want.”

You do. The bed dips slightly beneath you as you settle beside him, knees close but not touching. For a while, neither of you say anything.

Then Joel shifts, lying back with a quiet grunt. His arm stretches behind his head, the other resting across on his stomach. His fingers flex once, his knuckles cracking.

You don’t move from your spot.

He glances up at you, looking at your back. You’re wearing the only set of pajamas you have. A shirt about a size too big, and shorts a size too small.

“You layin’ down, or you gonna sit there all night?”

You huff under your breath. You lie down anyway. Not quiet touching Joel, but not quite separate.

The room smells like wood. The mold smell subsided the longer you’ve been here, but maybe you’re just getting used to it.

You shift as subtly as you can, laying on your stomach, a few inches between you and Joel. You turn your head to look at him. He’s still staring up at the ceiling, the dim candle light shadowing his face.

He shifts–barely–but his fingers brush yours between you, a soft touch that lingers longer than it should.

You don’t pull away.

And neither does he.

You close your eyes.

Minutes pass.

You feel it when he breathes your name–not a question, not a warning. Just your name, spoken like a habit he never meant to form.

You answer by curling your pinky around his. Sleep takes you like that.

Over the next few weeks, Joel starts to teach you more, and you.. Well, you yearn more for him. Like a lamb following its shepherd around, not leaving his side. Joel doesn’t comment on it. Though, he makes the mental note of changes in you. Back in Boston, you did fend for yourself more. Only came to him in desperate times. Now, you come to him when you get a splinter. Boston you would’ve just toughed it out.

You think back on the past few weeks, little moments that you and Joel shared.

Like the first time Joel handed you a knife.

He didn’t make a speech. Just stood behind you in the garden, the weight of it pressed into your palm.

“You hold it like this,” he murmured, voice close to your ear, rough with sleep. “No tighter than you have to. Don’t choke it.”

His hands covered yours for a second, guiding the grip. Then they were gone.

You didn’t cut anything that day, but you kept the knife.

You think about the night you left one of your dresses to dry by the fire and he tossed you a clean shirt without looking.

“Didn’t know if you had another,” he’d said, eyes fixed on the stew pot like it might combust if he blinked.

The shirt hung boast your knees. It smelled like cedar and something older– something like home.

You think about the way he says your name now.

Not sharp. Not in warning. Just… when the room is too quiet and he’s trying to make sure you’re okay.

You remember burning your hand on the kettle and how he didn’t yell, didn’t scold– just took your hand gently and ran it under water, his thumb rubbing soft circles over your wrist.

“Gotta be careful,” he said. “Can’t fix you if you break.” he’d joked. Which made your tear stained cheeks smile a bit.

And lately, he touches you more. Not a lot. Not in a way that means too much. But in ways that settle you.

A hand to your lower back when he brushes past. Knuckle grazing yours when he passes you the plate. His flannel jacket, draped over your shoulders when you’re out in the morning air.

None of it was asked for.

But all of it, you retained. You find yourself almost grateful for him.

Tonight, when the candle light burns low and the wind scratches soft at the windows, you lie beside him in silence. Again.

Lately you’d abandoned your room since you slept in Joel’s bed that night weeks ago. In his fashion, he doesn’t comment on it, or ask why you sleep in his bed. If anything, he’s a little smug that you choose to do so.

The distance between you is familiar now. Not far, but not close enough. Your hands rest over your stomach, the tips of your fingers twitching like they don’t know what to do.

Joel shifts beside you, the mattress dipping with his weight. You hear him exhale, long and quiet. He’s not asleep.

Neither are you, clearly.

Maybe it’s the warmth of the room. Or maybe it’s everything you’ve remembered–all the ways he’s touched you lately, soft and steady.

Whatever it is, your hand moves before your mind can catch up.

You reach out and press your fingertips to the back of his hand.

Joel doesn’t move.

Not at first.

Then his fingers turn beneath yours, so his palm faces up.

You hesitate, But then you slide your hand into his.

He curls his fingers around yours. Firm and grounding.

No one says a word.

But you can feel what is unsaid.

In the steadiness of his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

He’s still Joel.

But right now, he’s your Joel.

You stare at the ceiling, your heart thudding louder than it should.

“I used to think you were just mean,” you whisper, your voice barely heard in the dark.

“Back in Boston. You never smiled. You never looked at me too long. Though you hated me.”

Joel doesn’t move. Nor speak.

You breathe in through your nose slowly, then out your mouth.

“But then you’d fix things. Bring me ration cards. Trade for batteries when my flashlight died. Clock anyone who’d clocked me.” you almost chuckle.

You turn your face toward him–eyes adjusting now, just enough to make out the rise of his chest.

“I think I get it now,” you say, gently. “I think it’s just how you are.”

Still nothing from him. Not a shift. Not even a breath you can track now.

You swallow, noting at his silence, but he didn’t move from your hand in his.

“I don’t-” you start, then stop. “This is the only thing that doesn’t scare me.” You meant him. He’s the only thing that doesn’t scare you anymore.

And then, after a long pause, you continue.

“Uh, I’m okay with being yours. If that’s something you’d want.”

You don’t expect an answer. Not now. Your eyes close, then the weight of your exhaustion pulls at you.

You’re almost asleep–drifting at the edge of it–when Joel finally speaks.

“I ain’t ever stopped.”

You blink, but don’t move. His thumb brushes along your knuckles once, twice, and you know–without question–that he meant every word.

You wake up warm.

Too warm.

Your cheek is pressed to a shirt– Joel’s chest, slow and rising. His arm is heavy across your back, his hand splayed wide like it’s been there all night. He’s not asleep. But he doesn’t move.

Neither do you.

Eventually, he shifts, his hand brushing your side. Not possessive. Like he’s reminding himself you’re okay.

When you sit up, he lets you go without a word.

The kitchen is bright. The light outside is gold and soft, the kind that makes everything look gentler than it is.

You’re standing by the counter, barefoot in the shirt Joel gave. It hits mid-thigh, worn at the sleeves. Joel moves behind you, not touching, but close enough to feel.

“Coffee?” he mutters, reaching for the kettle beside you.

You nod, rubbing at your eyes. “Please.”

He grabs the grounds from an old jar, then lights the stove to boil the water.

He slides a mug to you, as you both wait for the water to boil.

He leans against the counter, a few feet away from you, arms crossed.

You don’t say anything for a long time.

Then: “Did you mean it?”

Joel lifts a brow, “Mean what?”

You look at the kettle on the stove. “What you said. Last night.” Had he lost his memory? Old man.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah. I meant it.”

You nod, swallowing around the heat that rises in your chest.

Your eyes meet his.

His drift down. Your bare legs. Then the hem of his shirt. The red imprint of his shirt soft on your cheek.

His jaw clicks.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmur into your head as you rub your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m yours.”

He tilts his head, then scratches his beard, “You said you were, didn’t you?”

You blink, then part your lips to speak-

The kettle steams, and it jerks both of your attention back to it.

Joel grabs his mug, then yours, pouring coffee into it. As if a borderline love confession didn’t just take place. Maybe not love. You don’t love Joel. Right..?

You take the mug when he slides it back over to you. You stay still, cup warm in your hands, stomach flipping in a way you can’t name.

Because maybe you want him to protect you.

And maybe… you want more than that.

But he doesn’t say anything else.

And you know he won’t. Not yet.

Not until you reach for him again.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel miller smut #tlou #ali's cranium #mean!joel #dark!joel #darkish he's not that mean #hes a sweetie #he loves you baby girl #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader

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ubeb0nes · 7 months ago

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Gen. Sevika HCs (& Romantic!)

Brainstorming little thoughts on big mama to help me characterize her for a story i wanna write!

She is actually very slow to anger, it’s just that Jinx is very gifted at pushing her buttons and she’s been dealing with Silco letting it slide for years. It’s part of what makes her such a scary opponent in a fight, she (usually) never loses her composure.

And on that note, i feel so bad that poor bbg had to lose most of her fights for the plot, especially in S1 😭 she definitely helped train Vi a little when she was younger

She's Silco's right hand in all ways. Whether someone needs to be beat down or a hand needs to be shook, Sevika is equipped in body and mind. Her physical presence lends itself well to subtle intimidation when she's cutting Silco's deals. Her default isn't to direct, brutish threatening actually, she avoids fights where she can especially as she gets older.

She's a very thoughtful person, spending a lot of time within her own mind or picking apart other people's. She's not as direct as Silco, who pushes people's buttons to get a sense of how their mind works, she just intently observes them. Honestly, she gives me similar vibes to Arthur Morgan in temperament the more I think about it. Honorable version, of course.

Continuing on her thoughtful trait, she had to learn to be very intuitive about people's emotions to avoid the wrath of her step-father. She appreciated her dad too late, spending more time butting heads with him than realizing how alike they truly were; so goes the theme of eldest daughters, though.

I imagine her as being very timid as a child. Not quite meek, but she wasn't as brash as teen Vi. She toughened up out of necessity, per the usual for kids growing up in Zaun, in order to defend her younger siblings (she has two) from her step dad once her father died.

Her father died in a mining accident. They never found his body, and even now sometimes Sevika hopes that he'll walk through the door and just… forgive her, for everything she has and hasn't done.

She was also pretty slight as a kid until about seventeen, where she proceeded to shoot up to 6'1" and started putting on muscle when Vander took her in under his wing. Her step dad never put his hands on her or her younger siblings again.

She was always closer to Vander than Silco. It truly did hurt her to turn her back on him, but she couldn't live with the slow death of complacency that he'd chosen for Zaun. She never goes through the process of fully grieving him, she simply pushes forward and carries on.

Romantic

Loyal to you like she's loyal to Zaun. Seriously, this woman doesn't know how to cheat. Not that the other women of Arcane are 'more' likely to cheat, but Sevika is the least likely imo. If she doesn't want you anymore she'll just break it off, anything less is cowardly and she is anything but.

She gets very cuddly and needy when she's tired which is often. She never asks for cuddles, just kinda uses her size to her advantage and pins you on the couch while she squeezes you like a stuffed toy.

"Mm… stop whinin', just five minutes…" She'll relent if you actually don't wanna be smothered, but unless you express that, you're hers until she says otherwise.

Calls you 'baby', 'sweetheart' and 'princess' the most. The last one started as a jab for either giving her attitude or being prissy, until she realized the flush on your face wasn't from anger. To others, she refers to you as her girl or says things like "no, me and the lady got plans" or "i promised the lady I'd be home on time Silco, you wanna piss her off too?"

Definitely got more where these all came from, lmk if you'd like me to continue!

#arcane #sevika #sevika headcanon #arcane sevika #league of legends

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luvst4rc0r3 · 4 months ago

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Loser!Jinx x Reader Headcanons

Jinx wasn’t just a loser—she was the loser. The kind who sat in the back of the class doodling in her notebook instead of taking notes, who always had a random bruise from doing something stupid, and who somehow had a negative GPA but could explain the entire plot of an obscure 90s anime no one had ever heard of.

She wasn’t exactly hated at school, but she was weird, loud, and unpredictable, which made people avoid her. Except for Vi, who was always yelling at her to “Get your shit together, Powder,” and Sevika, who only tolerated her because Vi forced her to.

Then there was you.

The first time Jinx saw you, she short-circuited. She was just trying to make it through another miserable day of Algebra when you walked into the classroom, and suddenly, math didn’t exist anymore. All she could think was:

“Oh no.”

You were effortlessly cool—new to school, good at everything Jinx wasn’t, and way out of her league. But you were nice. Too nice. The kind of nice that made Jinx go home and kick her feet while screaming into her pillow because why would you ever talk to her unless you were planning to ruin her life?

- The first time you talk to her, it’s because you sit next to her in Algebra.

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, panicking: “Wh—uh—I—yeah—no—I mean—” (frantically digs through her backpack, pulls out a crayon).

You: “…Thanks?”

Jinx: “Yeah! Totally! I only use crayons, actually. Pencils are a government conspiracy.”

You: “Oh? Tell me more.”

She thinks you’re messing with her. But you don’t laugh. You actually listen. And when she rants about whatever nonsense is currently living rent-free in her head, you just nod along like she’s making sense.

She falls in love immediately.

- Jinx is the type of loser who spends all her time online, plays obscure indie games, and has a concerning amount of conspiracy theories about random things (like why the school vending machine is always out of strawberry soda).

- She is hopelessly, painfully, pathetically in love with you. Like, full-blown kicking her feet and giggling into her pillow kind of crush. She doesn’t even try to be normal about it.

- If you so much as glance in her direction, her brain short-circuits. Immediate blue screen of death. Malfunctioning Jinx noises.

- She swears she’s being subtle, but the entire school knows she’s down horrendously bad for you. Like, it’s embarrassing. Vi has tried to stage an intervention. Sevika has bet money on how long it’ll take before she faints in front of you.

- If you actually talk to her? Oh, she’s done for. Stammering, tripping over her words, probably dropping whatever she’s holding. You could ask her the simplest question, and she’d be like:

You: “Hey, do you have a pencil?”

Jinx, sweating bullets: “Uh—uh—uh—uh—I—pen—yes—no—I mean—I do? Maybe? What’s a pencil?”

- She definitely stalks your social media. She has your entire posting schedule memorized, knows all your interests, and tries to bring them up in conversation to impress you—but it just makes her sound insane.

Jinx: “Soooo… I heard you like frogs.”

You: “What?”

Jinx: “Uh. Frogs. Y’know. Ribbit.”

- If you compliment her, even as a joke, she will take it to her grave. Like, you could say, “Hey, cool jacket,” and she’ll wear that same jacket every day for a month straight.

- One time you called her cute. She has not recovered.

- She tries to act cool around you, but she’s the type of loser who fumbles everything. Drops her phone. Walks into doors. Trips over air. It’s a miracle she hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet.

- If you so much as smile at her, she’s writing about it in her diary like it’s the most life-changing event to ever happen.

“FEBRUARY 8TH, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N SMILED AT ME. I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.”

“February 8th, 2025. 3:47 PM. Y/N TOUCHED MY ARM. I CAN NEVER WASH IT AGAIN.”

- Jinx, in her head, planning out all the ways she could confess to you: Writing you a love letter? Making a mixtape? A grand, romantic gesture?

- Jinx, in reality: “I like your face.”

- If you start liking her back? Oh, she’s doomed. Malfunctioning. Exploding. Game over.

People still don’t understand how you two work, but at this point, it doesn’t even matter. You and Jinx are in your own little world, and honestly? It’s kind of perfect.

- You keep hanging out with her. At first, just in class, but then at lunch, after school, texting late at night. She stops feeling like a loser when she’s with you. She starts hoping.

- The first time you realize you like her back, it’s because of something dumb.

You’re at lunch, sitting with her, Vi, and Sevika. Jinx, being a disaster, spills her drink all over herself. Instead of being embarrassed, she just goes, “Guess I’m drinking it the hard way.”

And something about the way she owns her weirdness makes your heart do a stupid little flip.

- The first time you flirt with her, she malfunctions.

- The first time she realizes you like her back, it breaks her brain.

It happens after school. You’re both walking home together when you grab her hand, lacing your fingers through hers like it’s nothing.

She nearly trips over her own feet. You just laugh and squeeze her hand tighter.

Oh no, she thinks. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She’s never going to recover from this.

(She doesn’t want to.)

Random Cute Couple Things:

- Jinx is the kind of girlfriend who will 100% steal your clothes.

Not just hoodies—everything. She once showed up wearing your jacket, your socks, and your backpack, and when you pointed it out, she just went, “Yeah, and?”

The worst part? She looks stupidly cute in your clothes, so you can’t even be mad.

(You started “accidentally” leaving extra hoodies at her place just so she’d always have one of yours to wear.)

- She gets insanely clingy when she’s sleepy.

Jinx isn’t really a cuddler during the day—she’s always bouncing off the walls, getting into trouble, dragging you into her weird ideas. But the second she gets tired?

Good luck getting up.

She’ll wrap herself around you like a human koala, mumbling something about how “you’re warm and smell good” and refusing to let go.

(You’ve accepted your fate. You live here now.)

- She makes the dumbest bets just to get kisses.

• “Bet you can’t solve this riddle. If you lose, I get a kiss.

• “If I make this paper ball into the trash can, you have to kiss me.”

• “Okay, rock-paper-scissors, best out of three—winner gets a kiss.”

You caught on pretty quickly and just started kissing her before she could suggest a bet. It completely breaks her brain every time.

(She still tries, though.)

- She doodles all over your stuff.

If you lend Jinx a pen, it’s over—your notebooks, your arms, even your homework will be covered in little scribbles.

Sometimes they’re just random sketches. Other times, you’ll find little hearts with your name inside them.

(She denies drawing them. But the blush on her face says otherwise.)

- She absolutely loves when you play with her hair.

She pretends she doesn’t care at first—shrugs it off, acts like it’s whatever. But the second you start running your fingers through her hair, she literally melts.

(If you braid it, she’ll leave it in all day, even if it looks ridiculous.)

- She’s always touching you.

• Holding your hand? Obviously.

• Leaning against you when you’re sitting together? Yup.

• Linking pinkies just because she can? Of course.

It’s like she needs to be physically connected to you at all times.

(If you ever pull away too soon, she’ll dramatically gasp and go, “What, you don’t love me anymore?!”)

- She makes up the dumbest excuses just to hang out with you.

“Babe, I need your help with something.”

“What is it?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to see you.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I love Jinx

I want sleep

#arcane x reader #arcane x y/n #x reader #arcane x you #jinx lol #jinx league of legends #jinx arcane #x you #x y/n #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx fluff #jinx angst #jinx smut #jinx season 2 #jinx supremacy

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venusbyline · 8 months ago

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Fire ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 18, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Daemon Targaryen x niece!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: primal play + breath play

— summary: Daemon wants his other niece to release the dragon fire within her. But things go too far when she stabs him after he leaves Rhaenyra's wedding ceremony early.

— word count: 1.6k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 18th day, Targcest (uncle/niece), female!reader, dark!Daemon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, dubcon, primal play, breath play, age gap (older man/younger woman), choking, degradation, vaginal sex, rough sex, loss of virginity, corruption kink, crying, dacryphilia, nipple play, fighting, blood kink, blood licking, violence, head injury, chasing, sexism, underage sex, creampie, breeding kink, overstimulation, dumbification, semi-public sex, curse words, manipulation, stabbing, family issues, sadism, Rhaenyra Targaryen mentioned, minor Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, ambiguous/open ending, dom!Daemon, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @turdettethefirst

— crossposting: AO3

After Daemon's involvement with Rhaenyra, you tried to confront him. You were furious with him, already knowing everything he had done to cause that chaos in your older sister's life and now she was paying the price, being forced to marry your cousin Laenor Velaryon.

Even though you were a year younger than Rhaenyra, you were not surprised when rumors about her and Daemon started flying around King's Landing. Your uncle's obsession with her, the heir to the Iron Throne, the future Queen, was nothing new to anyone. You sometimes wondered if all that fire and passion that Daemon seemed to feel for your sister was just because of her personality itself or if it was also an unconscious way of him trying to get as close as possible to the crown.

When Daemon left her wedding ceremony early, you took advantage of the lords and ladies being drinking, dancing or gossiping so you could go after Daemon. You had prepared for this, disguising yourself and being almost an exact, shorter copy of your uncle. It did not take long for you to make it out of the castle and have your sword at Daemon's throat, your anger clear in your tone as you whispered how he had probably ruined your sister's life forever.

He was not surprised by your audacity and lack of respect. In fact, his biggest surprise was that you really had bravery to confront him. You have always been in Rhaenyra's shadow. Never the firstborn and heir, like her. And never the desired son, like little Aegon. You were... Just you. Your less daring personality made Daemon rarely notice you. All he knew was that you were very beautiful, even though he did not like your judgmental and calmer manner.

He wanted you to release the dragon fire that ran in your blood, in your veins. And that is exactly what you were doing.

When Daemon chased you through the disgusting corridors of Flea Bottom, your heart was racing. You could see the confused and even amused looks from the drunken commoners as you screamed, running desperately to try and hide from your angry uncle. You had crossed a line, you knew it. You had gone too far, the wish to be noticed and have your worth proven had spoken louder than your common sense.

You planned to confront him, threaten him for sealing your sister's fate with a such cruel and selfish way, tell him that Viserys was right about him wanting the throne, not his daughter. However, you did not plan on sticking the sword in your uncle's waist. It had been an impulsive thought, the result of your dark and sensitive emotions after he taunted you about your insignificance to the entire family. He always saw you as a dull shadow of your older sister. Rhaenyra was always busy with Daemon and never really bothered trying to pay attention to you since both of you grew up. Your mother Aemma died and left behind a trauma in your life. Your half-siblings were just babies. And your father Viserys was too busy protecting his firstborn and future queen.

As stupid as it could be, the only person who still cared a little about your existence was your stepmother Alicent. Despite being Rhaenyra's former best friend, you were easier to get along with. You were not impulsive and obsessed with Daemon, and you had not been angry about her marriage to your father, after all, it is not like she had much of a choice.

But no one else in all of Westeros cared about your existence, to the point that Viserys had not even considered marrying you yet.

You hated being seen as Rhaenyra's shadow, especially because you loved your sister despite everything. Then when Daemon pointed out your insignificance and added about being surprised by your boldness, your stomach twisted and you stabbed the blade of your sword into his waist, catching him off guard. It had not been a blow strong enough to make him almost bleed to death or anything like that. However, it had been enough to awaken the dragon within his uncle.

And it caused you to run through the streets, screaming and trying to run away from Daemon Targaryen like a fragile, vulnerable lamb. The chase lasted more than thirty minutes. Daemon was proud about you, he had to admit. He thought you would give in or fall to the floor any moment ago, but you never did. You managed to evade him for the entire thirty minutes. He did not even feel the pain of the cut anymore, despite the blood smeared on his disguise.

Once Daemon finally managed to catch up to you, both of you were in a secluded part, away from all the drunks who walked around like annoying spirits. His large hand grabbed the back of your neck, your smaller body being thrown across the dead end, the sound of your bones hitting the ground almost scared himself. Daemon did not usually hesitate when it came to hurting someone, but despite your fucking insolence, killing the King's daughter would not be forgiven, even if you were the insignificant one.

Then he took a deep breath, approaching you, who was stunned on the floor. He saw the blood dripping from your head, but he also saw that you were conscious and not only terrified, but angry too, the dragon fire in your violet eyes making him smirk. "Yeah, good girl." Daemon mocked, pulling you by the neck and keeping you upright, his bloody hands squeezing your throat so you could not escape, limiting the air from your already weak lungs. "Wake up the dragon inside you, sweet one. Let me find out if you are worth tasting or if you really are just a waste of time."

Your head was still dizzy, your vision was so blurry as you felt Daemon's hand pressed to your mouth to muffle the loud sounds that escaped your lips. He had already been in enough trouble involving Rhaenyra and that damn brothel. He did not need more commoners commenting on the fact that his other niece was moaning like a little whore every time his hips hit you rough.

His cock was being crushed by your little cunt, he could feel your warm walls squeezing him, the sensation of your wetness mixing with the blood that dripped during his movements. Daemon was no fool, he always knew you were a virgin. Untouchable by any other man. Until then, he had never created any real desire to corrupt you, his mind too focused on Rhaenyra for him to consider looking away. The combination of the sensation of your cunt and the pleasure of taking your blood just like you had done to him before was motivating him to continue. He wanted to take you to your limit.

"Seven Hells. Look at you..." Daemon growled between moans, his hand that was covering your mouth now coming down to grip your neck, while the other had fun exploring your pretty nipples. "Bleeding on your uncle's cock like a fucking stupid whore." The scoff was followed by a tighter grip on your throat, your eyes rolling back as he continued to fuck you like an animal, his balls slapping your thighs and ass so hard you did not even know how he had not already ripped you in half. You felt like your core could tear at any moment.

"D-Daemon..." Your whimper came out strangled, your fingers gripping the masculine shirt of your disguise clothes, trying to ground yourself in reality and not let yourself lose consciousness. You did not know if you should want to go through with it. You did not know if it was right to want Daemon to continue treating you like that, giving you a handout of attention for the first time in all your years of life. Gods, you hated him. He hated you too. You were Rhaenyra's shadow and she was Daemon's shadow. Rhaenyra was everything you wanted to be. And Daemon was everything Rhaenyra wanted to be.

"Just relax, sweet one." Daemon's words sounded breathless, both because of the movements and the slight twinge of pain in his wound, but there was no way that would make him stop. He felt your cunt spasming around his big thick cock, trying to get used to being filled for the first time. You knew that no one else in the world would fuck you like this, like an animal. Like a dragon. "You feel so good, little dragon. I never imagined I would say that, but I could get used to this thing, you know that? Fucking you, corrupting you, hurting you..." Daemon teased, his blood-filled fingers pressing one of your breasts until leaving marks from his nails on your soft skin, your face pressed against the alley wall, hurting your delicate face and increasing Daemon's arousal.

You felt the moment Daemon came, his white and warm essence filling you and making your legs shake from the overstimulation, as Daemon continued fucking you, pushing his seed even deeper. "Well, perhaps you will be a good replacement after all. Perhaps I should let you carry my heirs, princess. What do you think about that, insolent little niece?" You ignored his mockery, the bruises on your cheek burning with the tears that flowed, both of pleasure and sadness, anger and pain. You hated that. You loved that. You hated Daemon. You wanted Daemon. It was all so confusing that Daemon laughed out loud when you finally came around him, your tight and sensitive little cunt milking him.

Daemon's tongue licked the bloody wound on the back of your head and you moaned at the burn. "That is right, my new little dragon. You are so easy to claim. I guess I might start to like all of this."

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

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sasheemo · 7 months ago

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Knock Knot

Pairing: Alpha!Agatha x Omega!Reader

Summary: In the height of your heat, you find yourself at the mercy of the one Alpha you could never resist.

Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha/Omega Dynamics, Smut, Knotting, Breeding Kink, Porn Without Plot, First Omegaverse Attempt

Word count: 4.3k

A/N: Well ngl, this is a twist I didn’t see coming. Up until two weeks ago, I never would’ve imagined myself writing Omegaverse smut, but apparently, the universe (aka all the lovely humans that voted in the poll) had other plans. So, here I am, delivering what you asked for!

This is my first attempt at the genre, so I’d love to hear your thoughts! Be nice, though—or don’t, I can take it. If this goes over well, who knows? I might just write more. Enjoy! 💜

MASTERLIST

Read on AO3

You had underestimated your heat.

You should have known better. This isn’t your first time, but it’s unlike anything you’ve ever endured. The faint hum in your belly started four days ago, a subtle, manageable thrum—or so you thought.

By the second day, the ache became unbearable. The suppressants you decided to rely on seem to be useless, failing to dull the relentless fire spreading through your core. Your scent has saturated your home, thick and cloying, clinging to every surface. No amount of pacing or distraction able to smother the inferno roaring inside you.

You’ve done everything to stay hidden—locked every door, shut every window tight, and isolated yourself in the living room, far from prying eyes. But the ache isn’t a dull pulse anymore. It’s a living, breathing thing, clawing at you with every passing moment. It’s not just release your body craves. It’s an Alpha.

And not just any Alpha.

The thought alone sends a fresh wave of heat rolling through you. Her scent haunts your senses, rich and spiced, lingering even in memory. Agatha Harkness isn’t just commanding, she’s overwhelming, the kind of Alpha who can ruin you with a single glance. You’ve crossed paths at coven meetings and social gatherings, but you’ve always avoided her sharp, knowing eyes.

She has a way of looking at you that makes you feel stripped bare, vulnerable. And you hate her for it. You hate how small she makes you feel. But now, with your body betraying you, she’s all you can think about.

The knock comes softly at first, almost hesitant, but it slices through the quiet house like a thunderclap. You stop mid-step, your frantic pacing halted as the sound reverberates through the air. Your pulse pounds in your ears, drowning out the oppressive silence that had been your only companion for days.

Another knock follows, firmer this time. “Open the door.” a voice calls, equally smooth and firm, its authority impossible to ignore.

Agatha.

Your breath catches, panic blooming in your chest as her scent seeps through the door, heady and intoxicating even from outside. You press your back against the wall, trying to ground yourself, but it’s no use.

“I know you’re in there, Omega.” she calls again, her tone silk-wrapped steel. “Don’t make me break this door down.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, your hands trembling as instinct overpowers logic. Before you can stop yourself, you’re gripping the handle, the cool metal slick under your palm. The door creaks open, and there she is.

Agatha stands in the doorway, her icy blue eyes locking onto yours like a predator sizing up its prey. Her presence fills the space instantly, her scent flooding your senses with an unbearable intensity. Her lips curl into an alluring smile, dark and confident.

“Did you really think you could hide from me?” she asks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

You step back instinctively, your pulse hammering in your chest.

“I… I didn’t—” The words stick in your throat, faltering under the weight of her gaze.

“You didn’t what?” she cuts in, kicking the door shut behind her with a resounding thud. “Didn’t think I’d notice?” Her eyes rake over you, lingering on your flushed cheeks and trembling thighs. “Your scent’s been calling to me for hours, Omega. I could smell you from down the street.”

Your knees wobble, heat pooling low in your belly as her words sink in. “You shouldn’t be here…” you say, though your voice holds no conviction.

Her smirk widens as she takes another step forward, deliberate and unhurried.

“Oh, but I should.” she murmurs, her tone laced with amusement. “Look at you. You’re drowning in your own heat. Did you really think you could handle this on your own?”

“I just—I didn’t think you would—” you stammer shaking your head, retreating another step as her scent wraps around you like a vice.

“But I do.” she interjects, tilting her head slightly as she studies you. Her eyes gleam with something dark, something that makes your stomach twist in knots. “I’ve been waiting for this. And now, you’re mine to handle.”

You swallow hard, panic and desperation clawing at your chest. “I don’t… Agatha, I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” she cuts in once again, the sound of her steps making your heart stutter as she closes the distance between you. “Admit you need me? Tell me, little Omega, should I leave?”

The words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. The truth feels uncomfortable, but so does the thought of her walking away.

“That’s what I thought.” she says, her smirk sharpening as she her presence presses against you, her scent overwhelming, and you stumble backward.

Your thighs hit the edge of the couch, and the sudden shift in balance forces you to sink onto the cushions, your hands instinctively clutching the armrest to steady yourself. The air between you thickens as Agatha steps closer, her legs brushing against yours.

Her gaze sweeps over you, dark and assessing, the weight of it alone making your breath hitch. Slowly, she leans in, saturating every corner of your awareness. Her hand rises to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing the curve of your jaw with an almost maddening slowness.

“You’re such a mess, Omega.” she murmurs, her voice low and rough, just above a whisper. Her fingers trace the line of your jaw, trailing down to the sensitive skin of your neck. “So soft. So warm. Just sitting here, waiting for me to make it better.”

Your breath stutters as her other hand settles firmly on your thigh, her grip possessive. Her thumb starts to draw slow, soothing circles, the sensation igniting a fresh wave of heat low in your belly. You whimper despite yourself, and her lips curl into a satisfied grin.

She leans closer, her nose brushing against your temple, then lower, tracing the line of your cheek as her fingers tighten their hold.

“This is where you belong.” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over the corner of your mouth. “Right here. Under me.”

Your thighs tremble beneath her touch, your body betraying you completely as her knee presses between your legs with unrelenting firmness, urging them wider, allowing her to take her rightful place between them.

Her closeness makes your instincts take over, and your head tilts back, exposing the delicate, vulnerable curve of your throat to her predatory gaze.

She doesn’t waste the invitation. Her teeth graze your earlobe first, then drag lower, scraping against your pulse point as you shudder. Her grip tightens on your thigh, grounding you, holding you exactly where she wants you. When her lips finally press against the curve of your neck, the sensation sends a jolt through you, your gasp echoing softly in the still air.

“Fuck, you smell divine.” she murmurs against your skin, her voice tinged with reverence. Her tongue flicks out, tasting the salty sheen of sweat on your skin, and you whimper, the sound breaking into soft, frustrated whines that only seem to spur her on.

“Say it.” she commands, her voice firm, dripping with authority. “Tell me what you want.”

Your breath hitches as both her hands come to rest on your hips, her grip firm and unrelenting, sending a clear message that resistance is not an option.

“I can’t do this alone, Agatha…” you gasp, your voice cracking as your head falls back against the couch.

Her eyes roam over your features, their intensity pinning you in place.

“That’s not enough.” she scoffs, her fingers digging into your hips with a possessive pressure that makes your breath hitch. “If you want me, Omega, you’re going to have to beg like you mean it.”

Shame flares hot in your cheeks, but it’s quickly overshadowed by the smoldering heat coiling deep within you. Your body trembles as the words burst from your lips, raw and unfiltered.

“Please, Agatha, fill me.” you gasp, your voice cracking as your hips shift against her grip, desperate for relief. “I need you to fuck me until I can’t think, until I can’t even stand.”

Her smirk falters, her pupils dilating as she leans in closer, her breath hot against your lips.

“Keep going.” she murmurs, her voice rough and dripping with hunger. “Let me hear how desperate you really are.”

Your body arches into her as the heat claws at your senses.

“I want you to knot me so hard I feel it for days.” you sob, your hands clutching at her shirt as the words rush out of you, like a river surging past its banks, drowning everything in its path. “I want to feel every inch of you, every thrust. I want you to fill me so completely it drips out of me every time I move.”

Her growl comes immediately, vibrating deep in her chest as her lips skim along your jaw, hot and possessive. One hand slides lower, her touch purposeful, searing.

“Fuck, Omega.” she hisses. “You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You don’t stop. You can’t stop. Her words fuel you, each one stoking the fire in your core, her need blending seamlessly with your own, leaving no room for restraint.

“Please, breed me.” you plead, your voice trembling as tears begin to blur your vision. “I want you to keep going until I’m so full of you I can’t take it anymore.”

Her grip on your hips tightens instantly at your words, her nails carving crescent marks into your skin as her chest rises and falls in ragged, heaving breaths.

“You want me to breed you?” she snarls, her voice low and feral. “You want everyone to know that pretty cunt of yours belongs to me? That you belong to me?”

“Yes!” you cry, your gaze locking onto hers with unflinching intensity. Desire blazes in your eyes, bold and shameless now, challenging her to claim everything you’re offering. “I’ll take everything, Agatha. All of you. I’ll be yours.”

The last shred of her control snaps.

“Prove it to me, Omega. Every. Last. Word.” she growls against your lips, her voice shaking with the weight of her need.

You don’t even have time to process her words before her lips crash against yours, fierce and unyielding. Her tongue claims yours immediately, delving deep as if she’s devouring every ounce of your desperation. The kiss is all hunger and possession, leaving no room for gentleness. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her teeth graze your lower lip before sinking in just enough to draw a sharp gasp from you. The sting sends a shiver racing down your spine, your breath hitching as her hands begin to roam your body with deliberate intent. One slips beneath your top, her fingers brushing against heated skin as she drags the fabric upward.

“Arms up.” she commands, her voice velvety, demanding obedience without question.

You obey instinctively, trembling as she pulls the fabric over your head and tosses it aside without a second thought.

Her eyes take on an even deeper shade as they sweep over your exposed skin, lingering shamelessly on the curve of your breasts. Her lips part slightly, her tongue darting out to wet them as if savoring the sight, and the way her gaze tracks your every breath makes your chest heave even harder under her scrutiny.

“You’re just… perfect.” she murmurs, her voice a hushed reverence laced with hunger.

One hand ghosts over your skin before pinching a sensitive nipple between her fingers, catching you off guard with the sharp jolt of sensation. The other trails downward with intent, her fingers brushing against the waistband of your pants as a wicked smirk tugs at her lips.

“Agatha” you whimper, your voice trembling as your hands pull more insistently at the fabric of her shirt. “Please, I—”

The words die in your throat as her hand slips lower, cupping you through the damp fabric of your underwear. The pressure makes you cry out, your hips bucking against her palm.

“Look at you…” she murmurs, her voice thick with smug satisfaction, the edge of mockery sharpening her words as her fingers press harder, the friction sending sparks through your body. “So wet, so needy… you’ve been aching for this for days, haven’t you?”

You nod frantically, your teeth sinking into your trembling lower lip in a futile attempt to stifle the lustful sounds spilling from your throat. Your eyes are glassy with unspoken pleas, the sheer effort to contain yourself only makes your surrender all the more obvious.

She chuckles darkly, her lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone.

“Poor little Omega.” she murmurs against your skin, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. “But I’m here now, and you’re finally going to get what you need.”

Her hands move quickly, tugging your pants and underwear down in one fluid motion, leaving you completely bare beneath her. The cool air against your heated skin makes you shiver, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of her gaze as she takes you in.

“You have no idea what you do to me…” she says softly, her voice filled with quiet awe as her hands slide up your thighs, spreading them apart.

A loud moan tears from your lips, your cheeks burning as her fingers trail boldly against your slick heat, exploring your folds with an almost cruel precision, testing and teasing until your breath comes in shallow, broken pants.

“Gods” she groans, her voice rough and strained as she pushes two fingers inside you. The stretch pulls a sharp gasp from your lips, the burn of it melting into a rush of pleasure that has your thighs trembling. Your body clenches around her instinctively, and the sound she makes is a primal, dangerous growl.

She sets a slow, unrelenting rhythm, each thrust dragging a broken moan from your throat as pressure builds deep in your core.

“Your body’s screaming for me to fill you.” she whispers, her words dripping with anticipation, almost lost in thought, as if she’s speaking more to herself than to you. There’s a raw wonder in her eyes as her fingers curl deeper, savoring the way your walls tighten around her, imagining how much more you’ll give her.

“F-fuck, Agatha! Please, please I can’t take it anymore!” you cry, your hips bucking against her hand.

Agatha doesn’t waste another second. She pulls her fingers away suddenly, leaving you whining and gasping for relief. With feral growl, she grabs your thighs and pulls you forward, dragging your hips to the very edge of the couch. Her strength leaves you breathless, the suddenness of her movements forcing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You’re going to take every inch of me.” she snarls, her voice rough and dripping with authority. “Every inch, every thrust, until you can’t think about anything but how good it feels to be mine.”

Her words make you shudder, your head tipping back as your eyes flutter shut, her fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs with a bruising grip that promises vivid reminders on your skin for days to come.

“Look at me.” she orders, her grip tightening further as if daring you to disobey.

Your eyes snap open, meeting hers, dark and wild with need. It doesn’t look like she’s going to let you get away with anything less than complete submission.

“That’s better.” she growls, her voice edged with control as her lips curl into predatory grin. “Now, keep your eyes on me while I ruin you.”

She doesn’t bother undressing fully, her movements urgent and almost frantic as her fingers fumble with the clasp of her pants. She impatiently tugs them down just enough to free herself, the fabric pooling loosely around her hips. The sheer tension in her body is palpable, every motion speaking to a need barely held in check.

The sight of her hard cock steals the air from your lungs. Thick and flushed, a bead of precum glistens at the tip, catching the dim light as she wraps a firm hand around herself, stroking once to spread the slickness.

The way she towers over you, every part of her commanding and unapologetically Alpha, leaves you trembling in anticipation.

“Spread those legs wider.” she orders, her tone resolute, demanding. “I want to see all of you. Don’t you dare hide from me.”

You obey, trembling as her tip brushes against your entrance, teasingly sliding through the slickness that coats you. Her cock glides up and down your folds, unhurried, pausing just long enough to make you ache for more. She taps it lightly against your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, before sliding lower, the head pressing briefly against your entrance only to retreat again, trailing back up with maddening slowness.

The deliberate rhythm has you squirming beneath her, every teasing stroke sending shivers through your body. Her cock catches on every ridge, every sensitive spot, heightening the unbearable tension with each pass.

When she finally aligns herself, her tip presses firmly, and with one slow, unyielding push, she begins to sink in, the stretch immediate and all-consuming, setting every nerve in your body alight.

“Fuck” she groans, her voice thick as her hips roll forward, driving herself deeper. “So warm… so fucking tight. You were made for this, made for me.”

You cry out, your nails digging into the couch cushions as she fills you completely, the heat overwhelming as your body struggles to accommodate her.

“That’s it.” she growls, her hands sliding up to grip your hips. “Take all of it. I want you to feel how deep I am, how fucking good it feels to be full of me.”

She picks up her pace, and the sound of her hips colliding with yours echoes through the room, harsh and rhythmic, mingling with the wet, obscene noises that accompany every thrust.

“You hear that?” she asks, her voice dripping with satisfaction as her nails bite into your skin. “That sound—that’s what it means to belong to me.”

“Ag—oh, fuck!” you whimper, your voice cracking as your head falls back, your body trembling under her assault.

“Say it!” she snaps, her teeth grazing your jaw before biting down hard enough to make you gasp. “Say my fucking name.”

“Agatha!” you cry, your voice pitching higher as her hips drive forward with a ferocity that leaves you gasping for air. Each thrust buries her deeper, the growing swell of her knot pressing insistently against your entrance, stretching you further with every punishing movement.

The sheer intensity of it sends a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs, the undeniable slickness amplifying the pleasure that teeters dangerously on the edge of unbearable.

“Scream it louder, Omega! I want the whole fucking street to hear who owns you.” she growls, her voice a low rumble as her lips find your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

You sob her name, your nails clawing at her back as she shifts her angle, the new position sending a jolt of pleasure so intense that stars dance behind your eyes.

“You’re taking me so well, like you were made for my cock. Like you were made to be mine.” she groans, her thrusts becoming messier, rougher. Her hips slam into yours mercilessly as her hands slide to the back of your knees, pinning you in place.

“I’m yours, Agatha. Only yours.” you cry, your body arching into hers, chasing the heat that coils tighter and tighter in your core.

Her left hand slides between your bodies, her fingers finding the most sensitive part of you as she circles it with brutal precision. The wet slap of skin against skin grows louder, the sound mixing with your cries and her deep, guttural groans.

The added pressure on your throbbing clit sends a jolt through your entire body, making your walls flutter and clench around her cock. Her rhythm starts to falter, thrusts turning erratic as her groans deepen into primal, animalistic grunts, vibrating against your neck as her need consumes her.

The knot at her base swells even more, pressing insistently at your entrance, stretching you impossibly wide. The sensation is overwhelming, the perfect mix of pleasure and pain, and you can’t take it anymore.

Your voice, breathless and desperate, breaks through her haze, each word drenched in urgency.

“Oh fuck, yes! Give it to me, Agatha.” you plead, your hands clutching at her shoulders as your gaze locks onto hers, unflinching and shameless. “I need you to fill me up, please.”

The words obliterate the last fragile threads of her restraint. Agatha’s body seizes above you, her hips snapping forward in one final, devastating thrust that buries her completely inside you.

The knot locks into place, stretching you to your limit as she comes with a deep, feral growl. Her cock pulses inside you, thick and hot, each wave of her release filling you so completely it feels like it could spill over.

And the sudden fullness, combined with the steady friction on your clit, triggers something deep inside you. The sensation is intoxicating, unbearable in its intensity, and it sends your body spiraling out of control. You cry out as your climax washes over you, violent and unrestrained, your walls squeezing around her, greedily milking her until there’s nothing left to give.

“Fuck!” Agatha snarls, her voice shaking as your body reacts to her. Her hands grip your waist tightly, her fingers digging into your skin as she rides out the intensity of her own release, her hips jerking involuntarily with each pulse. “That’s it. That’s my good Omega.”

Your hips roll instinctively against hers, desperate to take everything she’s giving you. Her cock, her knot, her cum, her words, her growls—it’s all so overwhelming, you feel like you might pass out from the sheer intensity of it.

“You feel that?” she murmurs against your ear, her voice weak and wrecked, yet still dripping with dominance. “That’s me, filling you. Breeding you. And you’re taking it so perfectly.

Her words push you even higher. Your moans break into breathless cries, and your vision blurs, a single tear slipping down your cheek as the overwhelming sensation consumes you entirely, leaving you trembling and undone beneath her.

Agatha keens softly, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as her body finally stills.

“You’re mine.” she whispers, her voice gentler now as her knot remains locked inside you, keeping her warmth exactly where it belongs.

The aftershocks ripple through you both, your body still clenching around her knot as you collapse back against the couch. Her hands roam over your thighs, soothing and grounding, as her lips press a lingering kiss to your temple.

You remain still for a few minutes, basking in the lingering haze of passion as the intensity of the moment refuses to fade. Agatha’s knot starts to soften, each slow shift of her hips pulling a satisfied whine from her lips as she moves, her careful withdrawal drawing a wince from you at the residual stretch.

The slick, wet sensation of her release slipping free leaves you shivering, a warm gush spilling from your core and pooling beneath you in a sinful mess.

Agatha leans back slightly, her gaze sharp and intense as she takes in the sight of you—completely wrecked, your chest heaving, your skin flushed, and her cum dripping from you. A satisfied smirk curls her lips, and she reaches out, her fingers dragging lazily through the mess she’s made.

“Look at you.” she murmurs, her voice rough with satisfaction. “So pretty. So fucking full.”

You flinch at the overstimulation, your body twitching under her touch, but you’re too spent to move away. Despite yourself, your thighs clench involuntarily, a traitorous reaction that doesn’t escape her notice. She chuckles darkly, an indulgent sound dripping with pride, as if savoring the proof of how thoroughly she’s unraveled you.

Her fingers glide higher, smearing the evidence of her claim over your inner thighs. Her half-lidded eyes lock onto yours, and the insatiable lust simmering just beneath the surface makes your throat go dry.

“That’s mine, Omega.” she murmurs, her voice low and reverent, each word rolling over you like a caress. “Every single drop.”

Her hand lingers, tracing the sticky trail she’s left behind, and she leans down, her lips brushing a firm kiss to the curve of your hip.

“Could watch you like this all night.” she purrs, her tone dripping with admiration. “My perfect, ruined little Omega.”

A soft, pleading sound escapes your throat as your hand snakes down to grip her wrist. The longing in your gaze is undeniable, your swollen lips parting as if to say something, but no words come. Instead, you tug her toward you with surprising force, crashing your lips against hers in a kiss that’s nothing short of a necessity. It’s gentle, yet fervent, your teeth grazing her bottom lip as your nails dig into her skin.

For a moment, Agatha freezes, her surprise palpable. Then, as if spurred by instinct, she returns the kiss with equal fervor, her tongue sweeping past your lips to claim you all over again.

Her hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, angling you deeper into the kiss as she presses her body closer, her dominance bleeding through even in her response.

When she finally pulls back, her mouth remains slightly parted, her breath coming in shallow, uneven draws as she gazes down at you. Her eyes glint with wicked promise, and her lips glisten with the remnants of your kiss.

“Rest now.” she mutters, her voice softer than you’ve ever heard it, yet still carrying the weight of her authority. “You’ll need your strength… I’m nowhere near done with you.”

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x y/n #agatha x you #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #agatha all along fanfic #aaa #aaa fanfic #agatha coven of chaos #agatha harkness fanfic #alpha agatha harkness #omegaverse

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usomads · 7 months ago

Text

Celoso // Damian Priest x Reader

Author’s Note -> Hellooo everyone, I had planned to put this out earlier in the day but something happened and it threw me pretty bad, but I still wanted to deliver. As always, happy readinggg!

Plot -> He doesn't want to see you with anyone else but him...

Pairings -> Damian Priest x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Friends to Lovers, Cursing, Jealous!Damian (Dom Mention lol), Choking, Spanking, Hickies, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F! Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 3.0k

“Hey, Y/N, I gotta talk with production real quick… you alright to wait here for a second?” Damian had brought you backstage for an episode of Raw in Brooklyn, which mostly meant you were following him around all night, but it was so cool to be in his world for the night and see your childhood best friend live his dream, becoming one of the biggest stars on the brand in the process.

“Of course, Dames, I’ll be here!” He flashed you a smile and walked off with someone, leaving you to fend for yourself for the time being. You pulled out your phone and scrolled through socials, making sure to respond to some messages from family and friends. X always provided you with some entertainment, especially on the wrestling side of the app, so you scrolled through some of the Damian fan accounts, liking some tweets here and there.

“Y/N! Is that you?” You snap your head up to find Dominik Mysterio, who was making his way over to you. Now, you weren’t gonna lie, after you met him last year when Damian was still in The Judgement Day you had developed a little bit of a crush on him. He was for sure attractive, but he was so laid back as well and you loved that. You didn’t dare tell Damian though, he’s been weird with crushes you had since you were kids, and after all you just thought Dom was cute- it’s not like it’d ever go anywhere.

“Dom, hey! How have you been,” you extended your arms out and wrapped them around his waist for a hug, staying there for a few moments before backing away.

“I’m good, I’m good! I didn’t know you were in town tonight, it’s great to see you!”

“Dom… I live here, of course I’m in town,” you chuckled as he blushed, forgetting you were a Brooklyn native.

“Oh, yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “well hey! I’m staying here an extra day, I’ve got some press stuff to do but afterwards I was thinking we could go get some drinks? It’d be nice to spend some time with you, catch up for a bit…” he trailed off, giving you his trademark smirk letting you know he’s (most likely) up to no good. It was your turn to blush now, looking up at him as he scanned you from head to toe.

“Um… yeah, I think I’m free tomorrow. I’ll just give you my number so you can text me when you’re done with your interviews and such. There’s this place I know near my apartment, they’ve got really good drinks and some decent food in case we get hungry. I’ll send it to you,” you smiled, taking his phone from his hand and inputting your number before handing it back to him, your hands brushing as you exchanged the phone. That simple touch sent a shock through your body as you looked up at him, sensing he felt the same thing.

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he walked backwards, still looking at you and whispered, “te ves bien esta noche, ángel1.” You blushed again at his words while he winked at you and walked off. You leaned back against the wall, sighing contently at the exchange, and noticed Damian standing to the side looking… upset? Sensing his foul mood, you made your way over to him.

“Hey, there you are! Everything okay? Did the meeting go well?” He nodded, still staring off into the distance as you waved your hand in his face. “Earth to Damian, you sure you’re good?”

“Yeah. m’fine, What’d he want?” He signaled to Dom, who was walking down the hallway.

“Oh, nothing super important, he just asked if I was free tomorrow to get drinks so I gave him my number so we could meet up. Haven’t seen him in like a year, so it’ll be fun to catch up,” The smile on your face dwindled as you noticed Damian seemed to be getting more and more irritated the more you brought Dom up.

“Sucio…”

“Huh?” You thought you heard him mutter something under his breath.

“Nothing, let’s get outta here. You ready?” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you both out of the arena and to his car to head to your place, watching him closely as he drove. The arena wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you and Damian were able to get there and get settled in pretty quickly. The two of you were seated on your couch, beers in hand as you two talked about the night.

“Amor, don’t get me wrong, Dom’s my brother… but he’s a player. Seriously, that whole ‘Dirty Dom’ thing you see is real. I just don’t want you to get hurt, ‘cuz then I’d have to kick his ass forreal.”

“Dames, c’mon, it’s not even like that. We’re just catching up, that’s it.”

“You sure about that? Y/N, please don’t be stupid, he was basically fucking you with his eyes…” you smacked his arm gently, cutting him off.

“Hey! Chill, he wasn't, he's just… friendlier than most, I guess. And besides, is it really a bad thing if it is a date?” Damian’s entire demeanor shifted. “I mean, I haven’t gone out with a guy in over a year… maybe it’s time to do something about that? I’ve been pretty lonely, Damian, I don’t exactly have you around all the time…”

“What, and you think Dom can help you with that?”

“Well, I-” he cuts you off, his deep voice getting more and more intense with every second.

“You think Dom can keep you company better than I could? Treat you better than I could? Love you better than I could?” You furrow your brows at him, confused as to why he’s making this all such a big deal.

“Jesus, Dame, you act like you’d be losing me if I were with Dom. Newsflash, you wouldn’t, so why the fuck are you freaking out on me right now?” Damian sighed, setting his beer down and rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Y/N, you just don’t get it…”

“Well then make me understand, Damian. You’re sitting here mad at me because Dom asked me to go get drinks and I just don’t get it. You’re supposed to be happy for me, I’m finally putting myself out there again and as my best frie-”

“It’s just that, Y/N, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, okay? He estado enamorado de ti desde que éramos niños.2 All these years, I’ve waited and waited but I’m tired of waiting, Y/N, I want you. More than anything in this world,” he paused to watch your reaction, as you sat shocked. All this time, he’s been in love with me?

“The thought of you going out with Dom, being with him, letting him touch you? It makes me sick, mi amor, because it should be me. It should be me touching you…” he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, “loving you…” his fingers dance along your jaw and cup your cheek, “tell me you feel it too, please, I know you do.”

“D-Dames, I-,” you stutter out, still trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. Damian sighs, removing his hand from your face and distancing himself, placing his hands on his knees before standing himself up.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I understand…” he trailed off. “I think it might be best if I head home, give us both some time to think about things. I’ll see you later.” Damian heads towards the door, head down as he drags himself to leave. You realize you’re about to let the best thing to ever happen to you walk out, so you stand up and run over to him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to turn him around. Your hands grab his face and pull him down to meet your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist instinctively. You pull away from him, hands still on his face and looking into his eyes. “Dames, I’ve always loved you, I just never thought you did too.” You confessed, blushing as you did so, “but I promised Dom I’d go out for drinks with him. I can’t just cancel on him, we’re fr-”

“Still thinking about Dom…” Damian closes the distance between you too, bodies dangerously close, “Baby, you won’t be able to remember his name after I’m done with you… only name that’s gonna be coming from those pretty little lips of yours,” his lips hovered over your own as he growled, “is mine.” He crashes his lips into yours, snaking his hands up your torso and removing your shirt before removing his own. The kiss was intoxicating, your mind feeling fuzzy as you wrapped your arms around his neck and walking the two of you backwards. Your back hits the wall with a soft thud, making you gasp which allows Damian’s tongue to slip inside and assert its power over you. His fingers trailed along your sides and wove themselves into the waistline of your pants, tugging on the clothing to undo the button. You reached your hands down between you, allowing him to step back as you removed your bottoms and tossed them to the side.

“Fuck, Y/N, tu cuerpo es una obra de arte. C’mere.” Damian pulls you to him and throws you over his shoulder, carrying you effortlessly to your bedroom. You giggled, playfully kicking your feet and trying to ‘get away’ but Damian’s grip on you remained firm as he placed a smack to your ass making you bury your head in his shoulder as he rubbed the smooth skin and walked you to the foot of your bed. He laid you down before taking his jeans off and climbing on the bed with you, pulling you on top of him and pulling you back in for another kiss. You were straddling him, your hips grinding against him. He hissed against your lips, feeling your wet pussy soak through your panties and onto his growing bulge. The movement of your hips was driving him wild, but more wild were his imaginations of you sinking down on his cock and moving your hips like that while he was buried inside you. He would hold onto that thought, flipping you two over and targeting the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit and sucked the flesh hard, drawing bruises to the surface without a doubt. The intensity in which he worked on you had you spiraling- your mind was hazy and the soft moans being elicited from your mouth were beginning to grow louder. He continued his descent downwards, being sure to kiss, bruise, and nip at your breasts and sternum as he traveled downward. His face was finally level with where you craved him most, and luckily for you he was in no mood for games. He took the delicate material of your panties in his hands and ripped them, the cloth now coming off with ease as your pussy clenched at the sight. He chuckled, admiring your pussy and watching it pulse in ways he knew only he could make it do.

“Oh, baby, she’s so ready for me already,” he brings his right hand to your folds and collects your juices on his fingers, placing them in his mouth and moaning at your taste. “So fuckin’ sweet for me too. Pretty pussy knows who her Papi is, doesn’t she?” You moan at his words, whining as he teases you with his fingers. “Whose pussy is this, nena?”

“Y-yours, it’s yours…” you moaned but Damian, not satisfied, delivers a gentle smack to the front of your pussy, making you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, rubbing you to ease the sting from his hand. “You must’ve misunderstood.. I said… whose pussy is this, baby?” He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles, your back arching at his motions. “Mmm, fuck, it-it’s yours, Papi. All yours. Please…” you whimper. “So much better, baby,” he groans and lowers his head, allowing your thighs to wrap around it as his tongue and fingers conduct you to your orgasm like a symphony. The torturous pace of his tongue compared to the pace of his fingers was sending you completely over the edge, your body shaking as he coaxed you to cumming on his fingers. He cleaned you with his mouth, savoring your taste on his tongue as he brought himself back to your level. You kissed him passionately, tasting yourself on his lips and moaning into his mouth. You flipped the two of you over to straddle him again as you kissed down his chest, desperately wanting to return the favor. You bring yourself level to the bulge aching in his boxers that desperately wants release and lace your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down. His cock springs free and rests against his lower stomach, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with. You gasp at the sight. “Y-you’re s-so big..” you mumble, keeping your eyes glued to his length. He chuckled, cupping your face and bringing you to look up at him.

“You like what you see? Hmm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip and taking him in your hand. You pump him slowly, spitting on his dick and teasing the tip with light sucks. He grips your hair and pulls down while you look up at him, lifting your chin and letting your mouth fall open. “Papi don’t like you teasin’ me like this, pretty girl,” he groaned at the sight of you before him, so desperate for him. “M’gonna have to fuck that outta you, you understand?”

“Y-yes, Papi,” you whispered. He winks at you as he slides his cock into your open mouth, your lips tightening around him as he thrusts himself into your throat. He sits up, getting leverage before tightening the grip on your hair and fucking your throat with no mercy. He moans your name loudly, eyes glazed over watching as a trail of saliva dribbles down your chin as your eyes water from his work on your throat. He slows down, pulling out of your mouth as his hand grips his length.

“Mmm, come sit on this dick, princesa.” You crawl up to him and swing your leg over to straddle him, wrapping your fingers around him and rubbing his tip along your entrance. Damian’s hands settle at your waist as you rub yourself on him, before sinking down on his cock. You both throw your heads back in pleasure and moan as he slowly bottoms out inside you. You grind your hips on him, your clit brushing on his pelvic bone, and you whimper his name. Your slow grinds pick up as you lose yourself in the feeling of Damian filling you that you grab hold of the headboard and fuck yourself on his dick. Sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs fill the room as you chase your orgasm, as Damian pulls you down to him and wraps his arms around you while thrusting into you from below you. Your moans turn to screams as you bite down on his shoulder, trying hard not to completely fall apart on him.

“F-fuckkk, Dames. M’so close.. I’m gonna-” Before you finish your thought he throws you off of him, pulling you to your hands and knees before roughly slamming into you from behind. He delivers harsh slaps to your ass as he fucks you mercilessly.

“You think Dom can make you feel this good?” He grabs a fistful of your hair as you moan for him, arching your back and allowing him to go deeper. “You think he can touch you like I can? Dime, cariño, could Dom fuck you this good?” He grabs you by the neck now, lightly squeezing as he pulls you flush against his chest and continues to pound into you from behind. “Answer Papi like a good girl,” he growled in your ear.

“Oh fuckkk, no no no. Only you, Papi. I’m all yours, Dames. Only you can make me- oh my god, I’m so close… please, Papi, please let me cum…” you begged for him, pleading for your release as Damian continued to drill into you.

“Shiiiiit, fuck Y/N- go ahead, baby. Cum all over Papi’s dick.” And with his words your orgasm comes crashing down on you, you shake in his arms as you release all over his cock, moaning Damian’s name over and over as you come down. Damian follows suit, pumping his cum deep inside your pussy and moaning your name into your neck, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder. He pulls out of you, collapsing next to you and opening his arms for you to rest your head on his chest.

Damian was woken up by the sound of a phone ringing. He blinked his eyes open, seeing you were in a deep and peaceful sleep. You were not waking up. He realizes it’s your phone so he picks it up to turn it off, but sees the caller ID and stops. Dom.

He slides his thumb across to answer the call. “Hey, Y/N! I wanted to let you know I’m done wi-”

“Oye, Y/N’s not going out tonight, está ocupada conmigo… oh, and Dom,” he paused, glancing over at you and watching you sleep soundly beside him, “borra su número antes de que tengamos un problema.” Damian hangs up before Dom can speak, setting your phone to the side and cuddling into you once more before falling back asleep himself.

#damian priest #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe x reader #damian priest x reader #smut #damian priest smut

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erenstitanweave · 1 month ago

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PROM NIGHT!!

synopsis: being the student council president of visions academy was a grueling job in itself, but planning prom for a bunch of teenagers with no ideas is harder. luckily for you, the boy who was seemingly always in the shadows caught you brainstorming and wants to help.

rating: sfw (obviously), eventual friends to eventual lovers, reader is overworked and underpaid, miles is a bit of a troublemaker at school (just one incident chat come on), made miles and reader juniors in high-school because it fit the plot better, miles silently pining, etc.

author's note: hey chat!! sorry for the sporadic uploads, exams have been all on my schedule for the past two weeks and i don't really have time for writing. exams are almost done so hopefully i'll have some more out. feel free to request some works you all want to see! reblogs and comments are appreciated, i hope you enjoy!

The sound of a basketball bouncing off of the concrete filled your ears, the sound somewhat calming along with everything else you heard. Faint noises of children playing in the playground a bit away, sounds of a small group of girls gossiping under a tree, and in particular, three very familiar boys playing basketball. You were also under a tree, your eyes looked ahead at the boys playing basketball, then back at the laptop in your lap. To anyone else, you’d look like a person studying or someone just doing some type of work outside. While both of those weren't exactly wrong assumptions, you were really here to just take a breath of fresh air. Life as a highschool student was suffocating, especially considering the position you had gotten yourself in two years prior. In your freshman year, due to your excellent academic performance during the duration of the entire school year, you were offered the position of student council president.

Being the student council president at Visions Academy of all places was a huge deal, considering they would pass on a full scholarship to the president at the end of their highschool years to the school of their choice. It would be that boost you needed to assure yourself that you would be able to go to the college of your dreams, not worrying about the burden of student loans was just an added bonus. However, this position came with a lot to do. Instead of leaving at the dismissal time for the students, due to your intense workload as council president and a student, you’d often leave when the teachers did, which was later in the evening if not later than them. This pretty much eliminated any sense of social life you had with anyone, the most you’d get was interacting with members of the student council or slightly scolding students when you had to. You were lonely, sometimes it hurt you a lot to know this, but you just kept telling yourself that you didn't need to have people around you.

That was, until you met him for the first time. You had known of him prior to actually meeting him, whispers in the halls and even some mentions from the principal only aided your curiosity, but that's all you were convinced it was, curiosity. Miles was an..interesting person. You’d hadn't met him prior to his father's passing like everyone else, so you couldn't attest to how he was before, but he was clearly different according to others. He was quiet, reserved, never disrespectful to anyone..not entirely at least. He had earned himself two visits to the principal’s office for fighting, and from what you heard while being in there for one of those visits, it was bad. Apparently, one of the more..non-disciplined boys had made a disrespectful comment about Miles and his father, one that you couldn't even repeat with how gross it was. Someone had told someone else, then that person told another person, until it got back to Miles via his best friend. You weren't present for the fight, but from seeing the boy in public the day after, you knew it was bad. Miles had been told that disciplinary action would be taken to more extreme measures if this happened again, meaning expulsion from the school.

He spent detention with you that day along with a few other people. His eyes kept gravitating towards you the whole time, he didn't know what it was about you, it was just..different. Detention was over before both of you knew it, then you never crossed paths again..except for right now. You saw him approaching the boys, greeting them and starting to play a game with them. You weren’t far away from them, but you honestly didn't know when you started just staring at them all play, or maybe it was just Miles you were staring at. Naturally, he'd noticed you staring at him long before you realized you were staring, but the longer he looked at you, the more familiar you seemed. Funnily enough, the way he realized it was you was because of your laptop, considering he couldn't see your face very well. Suddenly, he tossed the basketball to one of the other boys and walked out the court, approaching you quietly. His sneakers barely made any noise on the concrete, only making a hint of noise on the grass once he started walking on it.

You hadn't even noticed him, snapping out of your zoned out state once you noticed that Miles wasn't on the court anymore. Had he already left? Were you actually staring for that long? Miles circled around the tree you were sitting in front of, leaning next to the tree and silently watching as you looked around confused. He peered his eyes down at your laptop, slightly squinting his eyes and reading the text on your laptop. Before he really read anything though, a very familiar logo in the top right caught his attention almost immediately. Visions Academy. His eyes immediately went around the screen, looking for anything else that would make sense of who you were, then it clicked. Your laptop looked extremely familiar, you went to Visions, then right on the upper right corner of the screen read three words that made his eyes widen. Student Body President. He stared down at you, only to see you looking back at him.

He chuckled under his breath for a second, his eyes glazing over your face for a moment. “Didn't think you existed outside of school, you look good when you're not telling people to stop skipping class.” He spoke, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. You rolled your eyes in response, attempting to ignore the second part of his sentence. “Didn't think you were taught to just sneak up on people, color us both surprised.” You bit back, forcing the smile that threatened to creep on your face back when he just laughed in return. He sat down next to you, eyeing your laptop screen before looking back at the basketball court. “So, do you actually do anything but work?” He asked lightly, his eyes gravitated towards yours as he spoke.

You sighed and shamefully shook your head no, keeping your eyes on your laptop screen. “Nope, no social life, hardly any friends, just..work.” You answered, turning your gaze back to the boy next to you. It took a while for you to register it, but he smelled really good. How had you never noticed it before? It was a woody scent of some kind, sort of like the rare cases of wood that smells good as it burns. “I’m trying to figure out the theme for prom this year, but themes can only be so original and I have until mid-April to make a decision.” You muttered, letting out another sigh as you leaned back, letting your head tilt until it hit the tree with an audible thump. Miles watched your movements for a moment, slightly wincing to himself as he watched your head hit the tree.

“Well, I hate to potentially sound like a broken record, but why don't you ask around? You probably would have gotten an answer months ago had you asked the juniors and seniors.” He asked, reaching his hand over and clicking a few things on your laptop. You just moved your hands off the laptop, covering your face and letting out a clearly annoyed groan into your hands. “People don't exactly like me, you know. Besides, the last thing I need right now is someone trying the little bit of patience I have and-” You covered your mouth in an instant, your eyes moving to look at him. Miles just sat before you with an concerned yet amused look on his face, he hadn't ever seen you lose even a hint of your composure before. The sight made him wonder how you really acted when you weren't in council president mode. “You heard nothing.” You spurted out, your words slightly muffled by your hands. Miles just chuckled and pulled the laptop over his thighs, leaning back against the tree with a smirk. “Heard what?” He asked, his heart beating a bit faster once he watched you pull your hands off your face, a small smile taking over your previous expression.

You rested your hands on your lap, mindlessly brushing the material of your clothes back in place. “Well, before we plan on asking anyone else, any ideas from your end?” You asked, peeking over at the laptop screen. Miles shrugged and shifted the laptop towards you, tilting the screen to make it easier for you to see. “Not really a party person, but, the only ones I really hear talking about themes are the girls.” Miles paused for a moment, seemingly thinking about something. “They mostly said they didn't want it to be a color, don't ask me what the hell that means.” He said, watching as you laughed in response. “Well, that makes sense. Most of the girls already have their dresses or what they want in mind, so choosing a color for the theme kinda defeats the purpose, no?” He nodded, turning back to look at the laptop.

“Nah, I get it. Colors being a theme sounds weird as hell anyway.” Miles stopped talking for a moment, looking back at you in his peripheral vision until a thought came into mind. “How ‘bout..I’ll ask around for you, since you're convinced no one likes you in exchange for something.” He said with a small smirk, catching your attention almost immediately. “You’ll ask around for me?” You asked, turning to look at him. You thought about it, it could be a big help, having to ask people about it with your schedule would be relatively impossible. “Fine, but what can I give you in return?” You asked with a confused expression, watching as he sat the laptop next to you on the grass and stood up, dusting himself off. He turned back to look at you, his two braids swaying with his movements. “Check your laptop. I’ll catch you later, President.” He said with a shrug, walking off before you could say another word.

You grabbed your laptop, a lot quicker than you’d like to admit, something typed in the search bar of an empty tab catching your eye.

i think asking around for you in exchange for being your prom date sounds like a fair deal, don't you, President?

#ali's writings ✮#atsv #atsv x reader #miles 42 #earth42miles #earth42miles x reader #astv miles #miles morales #miles morales x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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blushofeve · 20 days ago

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Cam Girl 3

PART 1 & PART 2

pairing: Caleb x Cam girl!reader

summary: Caleb stalks you and uses your mutual friend, MC, to finally get to fuck you irl.

themes: the reader is a cam girl, strangers to lovers(?), sexual tension, sexual content, porn with plot stalker Caleb

word count: 2.7K

tags (bc they asked): @calebswife , @mcdepressed290

A/N: This is not proofread, please let me know if there are any mistakes :)

you can also read this on ao3

Weeks had passed since that livestream. You’d done more sessions—some cute, some teasing, a few downright sinful—but no matter what you posted, you always noticed him. @Apple.Prince. He was watching everything, always first to comment, always sending little hearts, and gifts off your wishlist and paying for private calls like clockwork. He’d become your favourite. You’d never admit it aloud, but his username gave you a little flutter each time it popped up. You didn’t know much about him, just his voice from your one private call, and the feeling that you were never quite alone when he was watching.

And you were right.

What you didn’t know was that Caleb wasn’t just watching you online. He had access to things others didn’t. After all, being the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel had its perks— classified databases, surveillance tools, and tech most civilians couldn’t even imagine. And he was already breaking the rules just to be near you.

It started with the voice match. He’d run a background trace on your voice from the stream, imagine his surprise when he finds out you and MC were friends, he found videos and pictures of the two of you in group hangouts on your Moments page. He was speechless. Even though he didn’t expect anything less, you were beautiful. It’s safe to say that he didn’t get much sleep that night.

That mutual friend was the thread. He pulled on it gently at first, asking MC harmless questions, subtly steering conversations. Then, more directly. He knew MC had met with you recently, though she didn’t mention your name.

Caleb already knew it was you.

So, when MC invited a few friends to go to a bar. He pulled strings to make sure he’d be there too. “My vacation is almost up. We should hang out together as much as possible before I leave yea?” He had been slipping in quiet suggestions like these and talking about places to go, places that usually involved groups.

You were hesitant when MC invited you, you had plans to do a stream that night but it could wait. “It’s just a small get-together,” she’d said. “Simone said you’ve been swamped with work all week. A change of scenery would be good.” “Besides, I’m bringing a friend. You’ll like him.” You’d rolled your eyes, expecting the usual suspects: some cocky guy with a too-tight shirt and even tighter opinions. You weren’t here to be impressed. You were just here to get out of your head.

The bar was buzzing, with low music, dim lights, the comforting clink of glasses and casual laughter. The air smelled like citrus peels and whiskey. You perched on a velvet bar stool, legs crossed, fingers wrapped around a chilled glass. A blush-hued cocktail MC had ordered it for you. “It looks like you,” she’d grinned. Then came the voice. Deep. Polished. Familiar in a way that made your skin prickle. “Is this seat taken?” You looked up… and up. He was tall and broad in the chest and shoulders. Tousled brown hair, an edge of gold from the warm bar lighting. Not the type you’d forget easily. His expression was relaxed, but his eyes were sharp, calculating quietly. “No,” you said, lifting your glass slightly. “All yours.”

MC returned just then and nudged the guy with her elbow. “There you are. Took you long enough.” He gave her a pouty look. “You’re the one who said ‘casual timing.’ I took it literally.” MC rolled her eyes and turned to you, grin stretching. “This is Caleb, my childhood friend. I told you I’d drag someone cool out tonight.” “Caleb,” you echoed, letting the name sit on your tongue. It was… familiar. Not in a memory sense, but more like a distant tug in your chest. You couldn’t quite place it. He smiled as he extended a hand to shake yours. His palm was warm, his touch firm but gentle. “Nice to meet you.” Your stomach flipped for no good reason. “You too.”

You talked for a while. All surface-level at first, music, drinks, random takes on bar aesthetics. He was surprisingly funny, dry with his humour, but earnest with his eyes. There was a softness beneath the smoothness. A type of stillness in the way he listened when you spoke. But then there were moments. Little things. When he said little jokes you swore you’d only said on stream before. When he looked at your necklace a moment too long, his purple eyes lingered on the gold apple charm. When he said your name and it curled in your gut the same way it had during that call. You shook it off. Maybe you were just projecting. But the way his gaze shifted to your mouth as you sipped your drink… The way he smiled when you laughed… The subtle flush on his cheeks when you teased him…

You didn’t even notice how close he’d gotten until you felt the warmth of his arm along yours, just brushing at the elbow. Caleb had a way of leaning in when you spoke like nothing else in the room existed. It was disarming. Flattering. Dangerous. You swirled the last of your drink, the melted ice clinking against the glass. “So, what do you do?” you asked, glancing at him over the rim. He paused. “He is the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel.” MC cut in and he nodded You blinked. “Really?” He smirked. “You don’t believe me?” “No, I do,” you said, setting the glass down. “It just… fits.” “How so?” You shrugged, suddenly feeling like the room had gotten a little warmer. “You sit like someone used to giving orders. And… you look like someone used to getting his way.” MC let out a laugh beside you. “She’s got you pegged, Caleb.” His gaze slid to yours. Something flickered there—amusement, maybe. Or something heavier. He leaned closer. “You’re pretty observant.” His mouth lifted in a slight smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Not completely. “That’s a nice necklace,” he said in a low voice. Your fingers instinctively moved to touch the apple charm. “Thanks. Guess it’s kind of a signature thing.” You spoke slowly, it was just a harmless compliment but it felt like more… MC mumbled something about going to find the rest of your friends and left.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You and Caleb were left in the dim golden light of the booth, the bass from the speakers pulsing through the floor and into your feet. You sipped your drink, aware of the silence settling between you. He looked at you. The kind of look that made your spine straighten. “I think I’ve seen you before,” you said before you could stop yourself. “But I can’t figure out where.” His expression didn’t change, but his fingers stilled on his glass. “Same here,” he said softly. Something was off. Not in a bad way, but in a familiar way. A heat curled low in your belly. Your skin buzzed in anticipation. You played with the charm between your fingers. “Weird.” Then he said it, carefully. Almost too casually: “I always liked that necklace.” Your blood ran warm. Not cold—warm. Like embarrassment, like recognition, like something falling into place. He hadn’t said your necklace. He’d said that necklace. Like he’d seen it before. Like he knew it. You tilted your head to the side. “Are you sure we don’t know each other?” He shrugged, “I know you.” Your chest tightened at his words. He leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your ear as he spoke, “You looked so pretty in that set I bought you. I wanna see you in it again.”

Oh. It suddenly clicked into place.

“I.. don’t know what you’re talking about.” There’s no way this was actually happening. You thought you had done a good job concealing your identity and personal life. Caleb’s fingers ghosted over your collarbone and landed on the apple charm. “You know what I mean.” the tone of his voice immediately sobered you up. Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t move. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it, feel it through the small space still left between you. His fingertips rested lightly on the charm like he was waiting for you to flinch. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your eyes met his, and there it was—that same voice that had whispered to you, the same low growl that had drawn out breathy thank yous and soft moans from your parted lips. This wasn’t a coincidence. This was intentional. Calculated. And somehow, it didn’t feel wrong. “You stalked me?” you said, barely above a whisper. His thumb brushed over the apple, a quiet caress. “I just… wanted to meet you. For real. Not just through a screen.” You should’ve been angry. Violated. You should’ve pulled away, demanded answers, and stormed out. But instead, you stared at him, really stared. “You’re insane.” “I know.” Despite the absurdity of the situation, your body quietly screamed for him. As if reading your mind, Caleb kissed your neck. He didn’t fail to notice how your breath hitched and thighs pressed together. It wasn’t lost on either of you that you were in a public space. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” Common sense is screaming at you not to go, but come on— it was him. The guy who had been stuck in your mind for the last few weeks.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

To any normal person’s surprise, you found yourself in the back of your stalker fan’s car, all over each other. Caleb was ecstatic. Your kisses and touch were far more intoxicating than any alcohol he had that night. As you straddled him, his hands slipped up your dress and firmly gripped your ass. He dreamed of this. How soft you felt under his touch. Your soft moans as he kissed and marked your neck and chest. And how incredibly hard he was with you pressed against him. You couldn’t help yourself but grind up against him. Caleb let out a whiny moan into the crook of your neck and pulled you closer. “Please… please… let me fuck you. I wanna show you how good I am. I’ll be so much better than your toys.” He begged as he bucked his hips up into you. His needy, whiny tone snapped something inside you. You lifted yourself off his lap and narrowed your eyes. “No.” The word seemed to break something in him. His purple eyes seemed to gloss over with tears. “No?” He was so close to getting what he wanted— needed. “W-what’s wrong? A-are you mad at me?” You nodded and crossed your arms. “Yes. You stalked me, disregarding my privacy, and you think I’m just going to let you fuck me?” Caleb’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of what to say. “Please…” He moved so that you were beneath him and he lay down the seat. “I’m sorry,” He inched his face closer to yours and you moved back until you were fully laid down on the seat. “I just wanted you so bad. Really bad.” He returned to placing kissing on your neck. “And you want me too.” He sucked on your skin, leaving a dark mark. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He repeated apologies as he moved down your body, coming to a stop between your thighs. “Let me make it up to you. Please” Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. Caleb’s pleading yet hungry look sent blood rushing to your face.

Before the word okay fully left your mouth, Caleb had buried himself between your thighs. He licked his tongue over your panties, making them even more wet. He moaned as he inhaled your scent and let out curses as his pants became increasingly tight. Your mind had filled with cotton. The feeling of his tongue through your underwear sent electric shocks through your body. Your panties found their way off you and into Caleb’s hand as he jerked himself off while burying his tongue in you. The feeling was euphoric. Caleb devoured you like a man starved, moaning shamelessly into you as if your pleasure was his only purpose. His tongue moved with practised precision like he’d memorised you—where to lick, where to suck, how to curl it just right to make your hips twitch and your thighs tremble. You gripped the seat for stability, one hand tangled in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against you. The sound of it vibrated through your core, and you nearly came undone right then. “Fuck, Caleb—” you gasped, voice catching in your throat. Your body arched off the seat, thighs clenched around his head, and he just grabbed your hips and pulled you closer like he couldn’t get enough. When you came, it was sudden, loud, and shattering. He didn’t stop. He kept licking you through it, groaning as you grinded against his mouth. And even after you finally slumped back, breathing hard and completely wrecked, Caleb just looked up at you—lips swollen, chin wet, eyes wild. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he whispered, voice rough with restraint.

“Are you still mad at me?” Still catching your breath, you shook your head. “Can I please fuck you? Please.” You nodded. “Fuck… I promise,” he said, breathless, “I’ll make you forget every toy. Every other name. You won’t want anyone but me after this.” He crawled up and hovered above you. You watched him fumble for a condom in his pockets, the urgency in his movements making your pulse quicken. He tore it open, rolled it on with practiced ease, and looked down at you like he still couldn’t believe you were real. “You sure?” he asked, voice rough, body hovering over yours. You pulled him down by the collar of his shirt, pressing your mouth to his like it was the only answer you had. Your kiss was hot, messy, full of every dizzying want that had been building since the call. The stretch of him as he pushed in made you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. Caleb groaned, low and guttural, forehead pressing against yours as he slid deeper, inch by inch. “Fuck— so tight,” he whispered, trembling with restraint. He bit his lip to stop another moan from escaping. He felt so good he almost came right there and then. You couldn’t breathe. Could barely think. He filled you completely, like he belonged there, like he was made for this. Once he was fully in, he paused, letting you adjust. His lips found your jaw, your neck, and he whispered your name like a prayer. You clenched around him in response, and he choked out a moan. He finally moved, slow, pleasuring thrusts that had you arching your back and your mouth falling open with each one. He kissed you like he needed to keep you quiet, swallowing your moans, like every sound you made would drive him over the edge.

“Oh god- Caleb,” Your nails dug into his back, “You feel so good.” That broke something in him. He picked up the pace, snapping his hips into you harder, deeper. The car rocked beneath you both, the windows fogged up, the space filled with your gasps, your whimpers, his soft curses. “Wanted this so fucking bad,” he said through gritted teeth. “Every night. Thought of you like this. Begging. Shaking. Needing me.” You were already close again— your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. “Caleb— I’m gonna—” “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his hand slipping between your bodies, thumb circling your clit. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel it.” You shattered again. Your whole body tightened, hips jerking, thighs trembling as the pleasure overtook you. He groaned, the feeling of you clenching around him pushing him over the edge. “Shit—fuck—I’m coming—” he moaned, burying himself deep as his whole body tensed.

He stayed there, chest heaving, forehead pressed against yours as you both caught your breath. Your hands moved to his hair, brushing it back from his face. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the galaxy worth chasing.

And maybe… you were.

Thank you for reading<3

Want to be added to my tag list?

#lads caleb #love and deepspace #xia yizhou #caleb smut #caleb x reader #love and deepspace fanfic #i came so hard

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moonveiltarot · 2 months ago

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What in the FUCK is their PROBLEM with you?! PT 2. quickie reading

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As usual this is for entertainment purposes only, not everything will resonate with everyone, I am not a professional, this is not advice.

Four piles to choose from again.

What is that person's actual problem with you pt 2?! This can be the same person you asked about in the previous reading or a different one.

These types of readings can make us feel seen / heard when we're dealing with a literal c**t bag. ):

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1.) songs: deserve each other - bludnymph. the cost of giving up - poppy. astrology: leo, aquarius, sagittarius, pisces

They showed their bare a$$. Or basically they showed their true colors. They liked being sneaky; scheming, plotting and executing their evil plans. This brought them joy and false sense of power.

You knowing the truth of what they did or how they move ripped that pleasure right out of their soul. You snatched that mask right off of that person's face.

You saw their behaviors and maybe even warned others of them. Regardless of whether other people knew / did anything about it or not, you distanced yourself and you cut them off (or you will, because you're smart).

Some of you drawn to this reading, you might even have evidence to drop or already have posted, shared or spread the information.

They hate that their true colors are out for all to see. You exposed or soon will expose their insecurities and make them feel put in the spotlight, but in a bad way. Like they're having everything they did wrong illuminated.

If they had help or helped someone destroy your life, relationship, friendship or anything that you cared about, out of sheer meanness, they are stuck with that group. They hate each other and are at each others' throats. They all are afraid of someone going rogue.

They may have done something so evil it had your mental health in a chokehold. You have seen some serious darkness in them. They are so deeply disturbed over the fact that you know exactly what is up.

2.) songs: zombified - falling in reverse. my demons - starset. astrology: gemini, aquarius, taurus (may specifically?), virgo

They get a front row seat to seeing you win. You're coming into a season of abundance ad blessings.

Or you just won something and it garnered attention. This could be a game, triatholon, a scratchcard, a baby shower game… anything where you won.

They have to watch you eat a feast that they wish they deserved. They could have tried to knock you off your throne. Seeing you in an abundant position makes them feel incredibly "lacking" in a particular area. Which area? It depends on your person and their insecurities. Like they might have a lack mindset or insecurities about how their percieved by the public… Hm. Pile 3 has messages about people wantingto be perceived a certain way in the public, so check it out if you're drawn to.

This is a greedy, jealous and almost delusional person. Their sense of entitlement is not right. This person may seem to have everything handed to them, but you may have noticed not very many people are around them. Like they have one simp and a cousin that is overly attached to them for some reason. Oddly specific example … anyway, this person is not adored in the same way you are. They feel like you're being given something and they think "why not MEEEE?! who does pile 2 think they are?!" I specifically heard "who does she think she is??" but place your own pronouns if this resonates.

This individual is vengeful. You ARE protected. They are about to show everyone how greedy they really are with an act of enraged entitlement. Others will not be scared or impressed, only disgusted. They will avoid this person and stop viewing them as a human. They will block this person out for good. The person you inquired about, pile 2, is sadly mentally incapable of having empathy.

Your light doesn't touch them, they cannot understand it. They only understand it is something valuable to be held and adored, to be looked upon with love and appreciation. But you know it was Hell and High water to get the privilege you have. This person is jealous and doesn't even have the capacity, mentally, to understand. Note: This person is out of touch partly because of social media. Maybe they have an addiction to it or only live online? They think real-world consequences do not exist / adhere to them. They are truly out of touch. Touching grass is not enough to fix them. They need a 5150. Stat

3.) songs: the devil is a gentleman - merci raines. fairly local - twenty one pilots. paint the town red - doja cat. astrology: cancer, libra, leo year of the dog, valentine's day?, capricorn, january 1st … so that was random and not just astrology, but i'mma leave it here.

This person sees you being percieved by the public in the same way they want to be. They like how the public responds to you and want it for themself. They want to be like you and they might even want to have your partner too. Or they want to be your partner and take your current partner's place. They see you enjoying something beautiful. A truly happy marriage or relationship. They are going to try to turn you against someone who is actually good for you.

They will try to disguise themself as a true friend. They will lie and deceive as often as they have to in order to maintain their public image. They are fake as fuuuuuuccckkkkk, pile 3. You might have even fallen for it.

They want others to think it's you or your partner / friend that is the deceptive one, but it's them. Their a liar… they plan to gossip and scheme while you aren't around.

Ugh, if they invited you into a friend group, the others are afraid to talk to you. They are afraid to talk to you because of something this person has done or said. They are afraid of hurting this person's feelings. Or afraid of this person's reaction. They are probably confused, but since it's the "clique-ish" thing to do, they decided to turn their backs on you too. They might be kind to you, but just barely acknowledge you, looking back to the person you asked about. And then back to you. Then back to the person. Just awkward vibes. Because they aren't mean by design. They just fear the social consequences of upsetting or doing wrong by your person.

This could be someone who is relatively popular who sees that you have some kind of talent of any sort. If you don't already, you possibly could. If you got a platform, this scares this person.

You know what they are really like behind closed doors too. They know you know who they are.

They are evil as Hell and they act all goody-two-shoes on the surface. They are vindictive, jealous and mean. This slips out in passive aggressive ways. They give "spoiled bitch princess who acts like they never do anything wrong and have main character syndrome and act like their bratty bullshit is actually adorable to anyone on the planet." Long winded, but true. The thing is, it's forced. You won't let them impose themselves on you or what you have going on. You won't gossip with them. You shut that shit down. You aren't evil like them, you're genuine and that's why they perceive you as a threat.

You probably noticed some passive aggressive behavior from them. Relative, co-worker, colleague, peer of some sort, ex friend, ex partner… whatever they are to you, they are jealous of you period. They know that you could dethrone them in front of god and every body, so they're doing dirty work and fast to make it look like you're way more evil than you are. They are setting up scenarios too. But people are catching on. They're in such a hurry to do this stupid shit others are able to see it. Like they won't talk? If they gossiped with your person, they will gossip with each other about your person.

Anyway, don't worry about this. Their insecurities and immaturity is so sad and pathetic. It's obvious to everyone they run to. They're destroying their own image. Their jealousy is destroying them. Because they are too motivated by it.

You're also in your own stratosphere and they can't infiltrate. Here's an example: You cosplay or are in a band or something. They are cookie cutter prep. You post a hot cosplay that gets lots of attention, maybe a week or two before Halloween. Come Halloween, this person has a shabby costume and it looks like a direct rip off of your own cosplay or it's from the same cartoon or series. Just one obvious example. It's annoying, but not dangerous. Your strength of character and actions speak for you. Your buddies or friends, or even just yourself, in this situation are like ... "bro is this person okay? Like??? Dafuq?" They think they are competing and eating you up, but they don't even understand the culture. They aren't some new person trying to gain inspo or be like you, they are trying to out do you and simply lack what it takes. They probably don't even notice this about themselves.

The icing on this shit cake is that you. do. not. even. give. a. damn. You don't even care about / aren't even affected by their bullying tactics. It's giving toddler trying to bullying a grown ass adult, but physically everyone in the situation is grown up.

4.) song: It's 3am, come ride with me.. by Ksunemoto (this is a midnight rides on a motorcycle kind of reading). astrology: gemini, pisces, sagittarius, aquarius

This person wants to skin walk you. They are scary … I mean, I can see that their mind is twisted up. This is a person who could become truly empty and unempathetic. I don't want you to be scared or think you're gonna be a true crime victim. I'm seeing it not going that far. You probably already know this person is being weird around you. They are stalking you to be like you. If you EVER feel like you're in danger from someone tell the proper authorities. This will be a guidance counselor or police. The police aren't saviors, but having this on record is a good idea. Anyway, only if they truly scare you.

I don't like to give scary messages. So, know that you are protected from this person. They are going to end up making themselves look embarrassing. The potential of them doing something crazy is there, I can see that. But I know they won't go that far. You are so protected from this. This person is a social pariah, really. They try to emulate humans and just keep failing to do so. It's kind of sad… but they are bothering you because they keep showing up. They might just stare from afar.

I see that this person has had a hard time integrating with peers and society in general. Instead of owning that, they are trying to become someone others like and admire. They think this about you. The truth, that they may not even see, is that they are the one pedestalizing you. They think you are cool and beloved and everything they think they have to be in order to be loved, adored, like, accepted etc.

They may have been shamed out of being their natural self and so they have resentment and admiration both. This makes me sad, but you cannot be their friend.

Keep your distance. They are too sick right now to understand friendship, how to hold onto it and how to appreciate it. They are vengeful and angry, not with you per se, but with society. They resent you for having what they believe they never could.

They are in this loop because they keep trying to fit into society's mold of "perfect" or "ideal." They haven't yet learned that there is so much pwoer in their authenticity. This person may have even killed that part of themself. Their inner child may be… gone. Permanently.

There is no need to try and help, just go your own way and avoid run ins with them if possible. Keep your distance and they will find someone else to latch onto. For some readers: This person could be ND (neurodivergent) and if that's the case, they are just observing you, but do not have an actual problem with you. Have compassion for them, be kind and move about your life.

Disclaimer: Hey, so … I know tarot is not a tool for diagnosing, treating or advising anyone about mental health or disorders of any sort. I'm not trying to do that. My readings are colored by the experiences I've had. I'm using the examples spirit is bringing to my mind. That's all. As always, tarot is just a tool to see where you are on your journey. Always use your best judgement, this is not advice and I am *not* a professional of any sort. You can always manifest a different circumstance and a different outcome for any situation. Simply demand your desire and proclaim it as already done. Be safe, well wishes, toodle-oo~ 💖

#tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #intuitive #intuitive reading #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarot reader #tarot cards #pac reading #pac #free tarot #moonveil #loren harlow #oracle #oracle reading #psychic reading

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one-green-frog · 2 months ago

Note

NO BBECAUSE I WAS WRITING A REQUEST AND MY PHONE WENT OFF SO I DIDN'T KNOW IF IT ARRIVED TO YOU, (it it arrived then I'll change the plot) anyways, I'll try and send it again, Jason todd x Male reader who's (you choose) best friend's , jason doesn't like the reader much, so he decides to know him better by coming like red hood in his apartment early in the morning, he pretty much interrogates the boy who's not taking it all seriously. They get closer, the family notices Jason being more friendly, maybe because of someon, and tease him to take over for dinner the special person. THANKS FOR EVERYTHING 😼

Here At Midnight

The first time Jason saw you, he was angry. And not the kind of annoyed angry either, no, he was angry angry. There was something about you that just didn't sit right with him. To him, you weren't the friendly, charming person everyone else was so eager to want to believe you were. Dick had brought you in as his friend, new instructor at the gymnastics center where he worked. "Great with kids," he'd said. "Same sense of humor, really easy to get along with. Just a really nice person."

But Jason wasn't convinced.

There was something… off. Something in your smile that made his stomach turn. It wasn't jealousy, per se. Jason knew that something was off, he had this feeling in his chest He just knew there was more to you than you let on.

So he did what any good brother would do: he started to stalk you.

It wasn't a great plan, Jason never really had great plans, to be truthful, but it was good enough. A bit over-the-top in hindsight, maybe, but reasonable by his measures. He figured he'd just drop by, check to see if you'd made an error, find something out. And so Red Hood paid you a visit one night. Your apartment complex was in the bad side of town, which, to Jason, was reason #48 to be suspicious. Breaking in was a cakewalk, the window was not even locked. Sloppy.

And this is how you caught him, fully dressed up, armed, and fuming, in your living room/kitchen combination like he owned this place.

You were startled, sure. But not scared. Just confused. In all honesty, you genuinely had no idea what you could have done to make Red Hood appear in your apartment. You didn't sell drug, hadn't recently murdered anyone, weren't embezzling from crime families (as far as you knew), and generally kept your head down. Maybe you were losing your mind, maybe it was a dream, or maybe Gotham was just Gotham-ing that day.

You'd woken up in the dead of night craving a snack, cereal, hot chocolate, you hadn't decided yet, only to walk into your kitchen and find one of Gotham's most feared vigilantes standing next to the kitchen table

You didn't scream. You didn't lose it. You just stared at him, grabbed a bowl, and started filling it with your cereal. Because what the heck else were you going to do?

Jason didn't know what to do with that. Really, to say that he was surprised that you did not cower in fear would be the understatement of the year. You stared him down, then just kept on going about your business as if this were a normal Tuesday. He figured maybe you were pretending trying to keep calm.

But still, it really infuriated him.

He tried to rattle you. He was standing there with the gun, delivered a monologue of how he would be watching you, how you better sleep with your eye open, how you were on his radar. Your response? Slow blink and chewing your soggy cereal.

"'It's just suspicious how someone living around here just becomes best buds one day with one of Gotham's richest guys," he'd said, as if reasoning his home invasion would make it any better.

Your stone expression "Type shit." put the nails in the coffin.

He left. Irritated. Confused. Angry. He reminded himself that you were playing games, pretending, lying to your real self. So he did what he said he would do: he watched you. Day and night. He watched your movements, your habits, your friends. He kept an eye on your flat from a distance, followed you when you came home from work, even broke into your flat a few more times when you were out.

He was looking for filth. Something illegal. Anything.

But you? You were boring. The most illegal thing he ever caught you doing was stealing a $20 bill on the street. And even he had had to admit he'd do the same.

Still, the drop-ins persisted. Midnight visits became standard. At first, they were filled with threats and and warnings. But over time, they changed. Jason spoke more, about his day, the idiots he had to deal with, the criminals he beat up, the whole circus Gotham still was. Somewhere between the late-night complaints and the bubbly hanging out on your kitchen countertop while you toasted bread, something shifted.

You didn't even have to try hard. You just… treated him like a human being. Not like a time bomb, not like Gotham's boogeyman, not even like Dick's angry brother. Just a guy. A guy who was often irritated, sometimes lonely, and always tired. You made him feel safe.

And soon enough, his family also noticed his behavior.

The change was subtle, but real. Jason, typically described as feral or angry, trigger-happy was calm Maybe not sunshine-and-rainbows, but less angry. Smiling. Speaking more. Hanging around at the Manor. Almost having a genuine conversation with Bruce. The others were stunned. This wasn't the Jason they knew. This Jason seemed as if he could breathe again.

So naturally, they just couldn't wait to taunt him the absolute shit out of it.

"You have a boyfriend? That's kinda gay, bro."

It was non-stop. No peace. Tim, Steph, and even Damian loved it. But there was real support behind the teasing though. They could tell the difference you made, and they wanted to meet the guy who made it. So they invited you over for dinner.

Jason was mortified at first. But he agreed for you.

You were a bit nervous, understandably. You were meeting your friend's brother, a infamous crime lord, the family was made up of detectives and vigilantes who could sniff out lies at a mile radius. Even if Jason said that he didn't particularly care for them, you saw it in his eyes that he still wanted their acknowledgement. He cared, even if he didn't admit it, and that made you want to try it. To be liked. To be accepted, even a little bit.

Dinner was... insane.

The shovel talk was really a just a death threat to your life by Damian (naturally). Bruce tried to talk to you but was repeatedly interrupted by his own children. Everyone talked over everyone. There were way too many in-jokes and arguments about the Batmobile. Chaos, plain and simple. But you stood your ground. And better yet, Jason looked at you like you hung the stars.

That night, on the way home, he vowed next time would be better. You didn't even care, because to you, it was perfect in its own imperfect way.

And when he came back to the Manor, saw his siblings' teasing smiles and Bruce's nodding, knowing approval, he knew he'd made the right choice.

He chose you. And for the first time in years, he felt like maybe, possibly, he might have something good.

I am so sorry this took so long😭😭😭 i hope you still enjoy it and thank you for requesting

#male reader #x male reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #jason todd x male reader #jason todd x reader #fluff #gay #jason todd

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sramoonlight · 3 months ago

Text

Like you need to

What if the batfamily had their own spidey?

Content you’ll see here: Batfam, neutral!reader, subtle crossover, weird romcom.

English it’s not my first language so please be patient.

One hundred and ninety six calls, seven counting the one you’re doing right now but still, no one is answering across the phone, your stomach feels like is about to empty itself and you can’t do more than call your mother’s phone over and over again, begging the next time you hear her voice isn’t from a voice mail

Your eyes feel heavy, now that you notice, they’re not heavy just they’re crying not because you’re sad, you’re scared

Where is your mother? You can’t but wonder if she’s okay, if she made out of it alive and you want to know how did she know about this

Your heart is beating fast, faster and faster as you heard someone sitting beside you

— Hey little bird, you need to get out of this — Dick, the person who seemed like he wanted to bond with you caress your shoulders trying to calm the storm in your head — Everything is gonna be alright —

But how could you think that? Your mother, the one who helped you be a spidey and the only one who seemed to care about you, she’s gone

Wait, your mind started to wander, then you realized, she plot this to have you away from the city

King ping? You thought he was in jail, he is supposed to be in jail, did he escaped? Your mother knew?

But that questions were nothing if no one was there for you to answer, your head moved to be on Dick’s shoulders feeling him rubbing your shoulder

— you’re going to be just fine, this will pass — you’re too tired to even care if it okay or not, you just want to rest and wait for you mother to contact you

— Birdie, Bruce went to recognize your mother’s body — a whisper that you tried your best to ignore, you want to pretend she’s still alive and she will call you this night

Dick kept talking about loosing someone, but you could only look at the floor of your room trying to ignore his words, your mom is not dead, she can’t be

But you’re slowly starting to believe it

Another day, you weren’t at school at this moment, just because Bruce let you skip it for you to think about what happened, you still can’t seem to understand why everyone acted like she was dead before you could know it, being called a Wayne even if you’re still a (last name) it just makes your heart yearn for your mother’s love.

You stopped walking, Gotham is a place dark for sure so you had to stop just to see where you’re going, it is not night yet but the city of crimes can have you running for your life in seconds

Until your spidey sense tickled, you look around the street trying to know why it is acting like this, and you went out of breath

Kingpin was leaving a car, you aren’t imagining things, he’s there! He’s too big for even think is someone else, immediately you put on your hood making your way to where he just entered.

Silence, you can only hear your breath as you climbed into the building, you had to hide beside a window to not be seen and still hear what they’re saying

— I’ve done my part, you have to do yours — you don’t understand what he’s talking about so you took a peek, is that a man with a black mask?

Your brain started to look for the profile of that person, that’s it! Black mask! Quite fitting name actually, Gotham’s crime lords doesn’t have a point in creativity.

You could see, they had many of their employees around them so you had to be careful, a bad movement and they would see you, probably shoot you

— I know, I’m a man of word, you’ll have what you want on October 20th — October 20th? That’s just a month apart, know you wonder what are they planning and why is taking so long

They shared a hand shake before kingpin left the building, so did too looking how he left

Whatever he’s doing, it cant be good

You sat down on the street, it’s your time to think what is he doing

An accident on Alchemax, it’s not quite normal to have one of that kind knowing that they’re a lab, Kingpin leaving jail and going to Gotham to meet a crime lord, that’s what you got

So convenient, you just came to Gotham and now he’s here

Wait, what position did your mother had? Secretary, no, that’s not-

Assistant

Your eyes widened as you had your first shot, the accident happened at 4 pm, the moment where your mother usually had lunch and the moment where you usually drop by her lunch

If you were there, you could die with her

“I can’t neglect you”

Neglect? That’s stupid, even if she was busy as hell she would never said that

“Gotham is dangerous”

Gotham isn’t dangerous for someone of your type

Your mother hide a code that you didn’t see!

If you were still at New York and luckily you didn’t died, you would be now living at your aunt’s not with your dad at Gotham

You couldn’t see King pin at Gotham

— Mom, why did you send me here? —

…

Let’s start this again, shall we?

Your name is (Reader) (Last name) Wayne, but in your heart you’re still just (last name)

You were bitten by a radioactive spider and for the last two years an eight months, you’ve been the one and only spidey

Of course your job as the New York hero isn’t exactly easy, you still have to fight villains and fight and fight

But no matter what, you will always get up

And now it’s your time to reach your most wanted goal, save the world as your mother commanded you to do.

Gotham has a lot of vigilantes but that can’t do nothing to you, they need you at this city and you’ll give them what they need

You took out your suit, your intuition told you to bring it on your backpack and you can’t be more than thankful, you hide in an alley putting it on as fast you could

Oh! Don’t forget to attach your backpack with your spider webs, now that you’ve done that.

You started swinging across Gotham city, now is your time to show king pin that you’re here.

Stopping little crimes you saw how the civilians seem to know who you were being excited to have spidey saving them

— Can I get a pic Spidey? —

— Of course! —

You posed doing a peace sign, how could you say no to your fans

—You! You’re a New York hero — You jumped out of you place seeing how a yellow suit guy pointed at you, you recognize him as Signal

— Well, Gotham need me too, don’t be mad, we can share the daytime — You chuckled shooting your web to take the selfie

You moved to shake your hand with the vigilante

— Your friendly neighbor Spidey, happy to work with you — the man hesitated before shaking your hand, behind the mask you smiled at him

— I should go now, let’s meet other time — in an instant you shoot a web swinging out of the alley

The vigilante look where you just disappeared, Bruce it’s not going to like this

— They’re so cool, aren’t they? — he almost forgot about the civilian who smiled at him, he needs to admit it, you’re cool.

Let’s get back to you!

The sun was starting to fall and you were sitting at a near roof scrolling through your phone, twitter was blowing up with your name and you let out a chuckle

A chuckle that didn’t last long until you hugged your knees

Spidey things feel good, but the feeling of not having your mother there makes you feel empty

But you know, that’s your mother’s wish

— Ah! I should go to the manor again — You didn’t feel like calling it your home, you swing back to where is supposed to be your new house.

But in the way home you saw how a woman was being robbed, you should just wait for a vigilante to come, Signal was a thing but meeting with someone like Robin would sure get you on trouble with Batman

Fuck off! You can’t let this happen, quickly you shot a web to the thief taking away his gun

— The night starts and you start stealing too? Geez, try stealing someone’s heart — you joked punching the thief, the fight was going to be a short one, not because you don’t like beating the shit out of a bad person

But because the night was the Batman’s moment, you can’t let him see you.

You smiled now that the job is done, patting your hands as you tied the person with your webs

And your spidey sense tickled, you look behind you before someone cuts your arm, a quick movement back to avoid being stabbed

Oh god, you looked at your new opponent, Robin is looking at you with his katana on his hands

— You’re at someone else’s property — his voice sounded too cold for you to think that he’s really a kid, you looked at your arm where the cut was

Your suit arm is ripped, it sucks knowing that it was your mother who used to fix it

— I- you’re pretty rough for a kid huh? Bye! — You escaped before he could do something else

Your arm aches so much, it hurts to even swing around.

How could you not sense it coming before? You know Robin is someone with badass reflex but you didn’t know he had the power to fool your spidey sense

You climbed the manor walls to get to your room, opening the window slowly as you entered the room taking off your mask

— Stupid kid, is he a trained assassin or what? —

Spidey sense

You looked at the door, Tim drake, the man who you didn’t talked to before was standing on the frame looking at you

You could see a plate of food on his hands, fuck, did he went there to give you dinner?

— I- I can explain — you tried to find an excuse, you need to find one

— Sit on the bed — He sighed, leaving the plate on your nightstand, you did what he commanded like a puppy

He walked to your bathroom to grab a first aid kit, did you had one there?

He sat down beside you disinfecting your wound as you look at him, he looks so good at doing it like he does that every day. He was in silence

— How did you get this? A wound like this can only be do in a certain way, god, I can see your beans —

You blinked

Looked at the wound, he meant the yellow dots on it? What a weird way to say it, and it isn’t even that deep right?

— I won’t tell no one I saw you like this, but you need to tell me why are you doing this — the why was a good question

You could tell him your story since you got your powers, but you’re sure he didn’t meant it like that, and you’re still too scared to even say your thoughts

But his eyes are kind, so understanding that you had to say it

— I know my mother sent me here for this, I just know she did — you explained it, your lips starting to trembled sending you a shiver of confusion

Oh, you want to cry

— And I need to do it, it is stupid but the feeling of needing to do something about it makes me do something without thinking and I —

You didnt noticed when he finished his job at your arm, and now he’s holding your hand like his life depends on it

He looks.. like he understands every single word you just said, like he does feel that too

— I’ll help you with that — you blinked, a single tear rolling back on your cheek

He hugged you, and for a moment you just let yourself cry in his arms, the tears you held back for hours are now being let out as you hold him tightly

This man, you didn’t talk to each other before and still he understands every action you take

Your first ally on this fucked up city

Your tears are now dry as you looked at the mask in your hands, you just told Tim what you saw, and also he just told you he’s Red Robin, quite convenient, is your father Batman? Probably now

He walked across the room thinking, with that clues he can’t seem to find an answer just like you did

— My god, I just can’t understand why is he here — he mumbled under his breath before facing you

He sighed, it was pointless to keep thinking about it without any more clues, you looked how he reached for his phone tapping something

— If we want something about Black mask we need Red hood — You raised an eyebrow, so did he noticing your confusion, after a seconds he nodded, of course you don’t know who Red hood is

— He’s a vigilante, well more like an anti-hero, doesn’t matter — of course it is weird to call him, more when he isn’t like anyone could think, weird again.

He sighed, before sitting at your side once again mumbling something that you couldn’t understand but still, you didn’t looked like wanting to.

— First, I’m going to do a quick research about Black mask latest business — He mentioned more for himself as he cupped his chin thinking about it

You fidgeted your fingers before he smiled at you

— what about if we go on patrol tomorrow? You and me — for a weird reason your heart jumped, it was your first time patrolling with another hero.

You nodded on excitement, your mother would be so happy to- oh, right

You looked at your arm, you don’t know how but you need to get this fixed, but as you saw your suit Tim did too

— Take it off — Your cheeks went red in an instant

— Not- no like that! —

— Tim we are siblings, but if you want — You attempted to take it off, in seconds he pulled it up not letting you do that

— I’ll go out! — You chuckled seeing him leaving the room, quickly you changed for more casual clothes calling him once you were ready

He entered the room again, taking your suit

— I’ll get it for you tomorrow night, let’s see us at the Central Park at eleven o’clock —

With that he left the room once again, you sighed thinking of how much you did today

You fall into the bed, groaning at the feeling of your arm aching, it sure hurts but whatever, you’ll be fine

— Good night mom — You whispered for yourself closing your eyes.

Swinging to your meeting point you fell looking for Tim, you can’t see his body near and you had to check your phones clock to know if you had come earlier

— You made it on time — you felt that words like a weird dejavú but still, you smiled at him — I’m always on time —

You turned to see him on his Red Robin suit, if you didn’t knew he was Tim you could just walk away, he handed you a device and you had to take it closer to your eyes to see what it was

Is.. like an earphone? One very small

— Sorry Red, I don’t use AirPods since someone broke one on my ear — you shook your head moving his hand at his body

— Good point, but you need to use it so we can be in communication —

Oh, you took it looking at it, it was actually a comm, how convenient

How could a small thing like this can do such a big job? Without saying a word you pulled your mask up just where your ear started

Quickly, you put in on

— Just don’t press the right button or you’ll change the signal, we don’t want Oracle to know you have one — who’s Oracle?

Whatever, you putted your mask down again nodding at his words, you were more than happy to do this

— We need a duo name — you said as he pulled out a gadget, are you going to swing together?

— Follow me —

You shot your web where he just used that weird gadget, it surprised you how quick it was but as much as you wanted to give him credit

You did better, swinging beside him you two made your way to some building

— How you do that? — He asked pointing at the way your body move along your web

— Im part spider so my body changed to match one — he made a disgusted expression, you know what he’s going to say — No, I don’t shot webs from my butt —

He chuckled surprised that you knew what was on his mind, of course he was interested in this kind of stuff, maybe because seeing a meta human isn’t normal

You shot another web swinging in a quick move, he had to stop in a near roof

— I can carry you — you said stopping beside him, he seemed hesitant — for the to be quick — he had to accept it.

You opened your arms feeling how he hugged your neck as you pulled him by the waist, he’s a little taller than you but you’re used to carrying people on your hands, usually when your mother was late and you had to drop her off.

— Ready? —

— Ready —

You shot your web swinging faster than before, you heard how he made a sound filled with fear making you chuckle

He’s too cute for this, everyone is scared of their first spidey swing but he seemed like he didn’t wanted it to show

— On.. on the right — You smiled at how his voice trembled, he took a moment to clear his voice and that just makes you even more amused

He patted your shoulders after a seconds so you arrived at a roof, he went off of your arms walking to the edge

You took this as a sign to move behind him peeking to see the streets, you can recognize how some King ping’s men are taking something out of a truck giving it to Black mask’s employees

— this is some kind of exchange? — Red Robin mumbled for himself as you looked closer

— This is.. their dealt must be something like a big machine or something — You said thinking about it, if Alchemax is here that means they’re building something

Something that can’t be good

Your eyes kept looking before you lost sight of them, now wandering across the building

What the..?

A door is glitching, what is wrong with that? Is that even possible?

You tried to catch Red Robin’s attention but he kept analyzing the situation, maybe you saw it wrong? Yeah, that should be

— Im going inside — You said getting up, he looked at you surprised but after a seconds he nodded

Quick shot and you were climbing to enter through the window, making your presence unknown you made your way to hide behind a box

— Isn’t your boss crazy too? Mine says that he saw something and now we are here — you heard one of Kingpin’s man talking to Black mask’s, even bad people can grow tired of their boss, how funny.

You took a peek, the other band member hummed as he wrote something down

— They are all, just mine doesn’t think it exist a multiverse —

— Now that you say it that way, it sounds stupid — the man laughed before taking the papers from the other one, you don’t understand what are they talking about but it looks like something out of their mind

You saw how a person with a lab coat, you looked quickly for handcuffs of something that could mean he’s being kept here without his consent but..

He seems fine

— We’ve done the final test, maybe for tomorrow we’ll have the machine ready to try time travel —

What did he said? You pressed the button on the comm

— Hey Red… uhm, do you believe in time travel? — you didn’t heard something back

Instead you saw how he entered the building hiding from the people down, that was a good way to tell you that he isn’t believing a word you just said

— Thank you, we’ll contact you later —

Kingpin’s man left the building without saying any more words, you need to leave before they notice you.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #batboys x batsis #batfam x batsis #batfamily #batsiblings #bruce wayne #batsis!reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x batsis #batbros #tim drake x reader #tim drake #spider reader #spider oc

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3hks · 4 months ago

Text

How to BEGIN Writing Your Story

Generally, the biggest problem I find in the whole writing community, especially new writers, is that they just CAN'T actually start writing.

I'm a huge victim of that too, but I have found several ways that at least get me motivated to write, and that's what I'll be sharing today!

1. Remember that you don't have forever

One of my problems is delaying myself from writing my book because I feel like I have all the time in the world.

The truth is, I don't. No one does. If you ever feel too relaxed about starting your story, remember that you don't have forever. If you don't start writing, there's going to be a point where you never will.

Something that helps me is to have a deadline, especially for my shorter works. Actually, I follow the deadlines for writing competitions submissions, regardless of whether or not I'll participate in it.

2. Don't get too caught up with planning

If you're writing a longer story, there's no problem in planning--it's arguably the right thing to do--but don't get overly caught up in it. It's far too easy to lose motivation, and before you know it, you've dropped planning and haven't even began writing.

There are some ways to combat this: outline things quickly to get a sense of the plot, plan a bit first, then write, and repeat, or just begin drafting and rectify and mistakes in a later draft. However, if you're the type who NEEDS to intricately plan everything out, then go ahead! My only suggestion is to finish it as fast as you can; it can be messy but get it done fast.

Time and motivation are your biggest enemies and closest friends.

3. Don't think too far

When writing a book you know will be long, beginning to write can seem like a daunting task because once you start, you have so much to get through.

Break it up into smaller pieces and focus on accomplishing those pieces one by one. Set realistic goals. Don't get ahead of yourself--we all move one step at a time.

4. Remind yourself that IT IS POSSIBLE

People have completely finished writing stories with hundreds of thousands of words before, and many of them have started where you are too! You can do it if you try!

5. Remind yourself of your goals

When you initially wanted to write this story, why did you want to? When you lose sight of where this book is headed or you feel like your motivation is draining, tell yourself why you're doing this, tell yourself that your story will impact people, but you have to get it out there first.

Visualize your success.

6. Find people to work with

If you enjoy socializing with others, find a community of other writers or a partner that you can connect with and will encourage you to continue writing.

Sometimes, it's easier to begin when other people are telling us to.

Of course, this advice is not applicable to everyone--I don't even follow it--but it's something that could be helpful to you!

7. Get rid of distractions

I'm sure people have told you this a million and one times, but get rid of distractions. Trust me, your productivity will SKYROCKET when you're not scrolling every five minutes.

Instead, utilize these distractions as rewards to motivate yourself! Did you write two hundred words today? Take a break and go on your phone!

8. Remember that this just the first draft

Your first draft doesn't have to be perfect. Honestly, it never will. Don't be so concerned about the quality of your first draft, just move forward so you have something to work with.

You can fix all the mistakes later, but you need to first be willing to make mistakes so you have something to correct.

Don't reread the paragraph you wrote a minute ago over and over, don't stress about pacing or balance, you can always work on that in your next draft.

***

Having the motivation to begin writing is always the hardest part, but it's not impossible! Don't be too hard on yourself; you won't write anything you can't fix!

Just get out there, pick up a pen or open a doc, and start writing!

Happy writing~

3hks <3

#writeblr #writing #writerscommunity #creative writing #writing inspo #writing tips #writing advice #writers on tumblr #how to start writing #how to begin writing #finding the motivation to write #how to find the motivation to write #how to find the motivation to begin writing #how to begin writing your story

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covenofagatha · 5 months ago

Text

All that's left to burn (part 2)

Agatha, Rio, and you adjust your rules after the motel incident and you get your fortune read by a certain divination witch

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: mentions of murder

A/N: bit of a shorter one but starting to slowly plant the seeds for some plot down the road (spoiler alert: the plan is for the next chapter to have a threesome for everyone just here for the smut lol) it's also such a funny transition to go from the filthy smut I've been writing to mystery and murder

There’s a heavy silence that hangs over the three of you as you all pack up the few things you have and walk to the car, making a pointed effort not to look at the dead man still lying in a pool of blood by the vending machine.

The awkwardness continues as Agatha pulls out of the parking lot and speeds onto the interstate, desperate to get as far away as possible before someone notices. You fidget with your fingers in the backseat, picking at skin, biting your nails, cracking your knuckles — you can’t sit still. Are they ever going to talk to you again? Are they mad? Disappointed? Afraid?

You’ve just started drumming your fingertips against the windowsill, making a dull noise, when Agatha finally snaps her head back. You freeze instantly. “What happened?” she asks, an unreadable look in her eyes.

Anger starts to bubble inside you — What happened? Like her and her wife didn’t come in and turn your entire life upside down and make you this way — before you tamp it down. Agatha and Rio have every right to be frustrated with you, you could’ve put all three of you in jeopardy. The last thing anyone needs right now is more murder.

“He knew,” you croak, your throat suddenly dry and seizing up at the memory of him trying to grab at you. You shudder. “He recognized me from the news and said that he was either going to turn me in or keep me for himself. He tried to — and I stabbed him. I had to. I’m sorry.”

Agatha and Rio share a look and you wish you knew what they were thinking. Did you just fuck everything up?

Is there something wrong with you?

You swallow hard. “Look, I know we said that we weren’t going to do it anymore but you guys don’t miss it at all? The exhilaration, the…the power. Don’t pretend like you didn’t nurture this spark in me. Isn’t this what you wanted?” It comes out a little more accusatory than you had planned, but you can’t take any more of this. You can’t pretend like everything that happened in Westview, or Salem for that matter, didn’t happen.

“Doll,” Rio starts, craning her neck back to look at you, but she sighs. “We’re sorry about the man, and we understand. But you need to be honest with us, about how you’re feeling and about what you do. Why don’t you tell us what you want?”

It almost makes you smirk at Rio trying to be your therapist again. You do have to admit, she got the job done the first time, if the job was to make you remember that you killed someone at the age of ten years old and to set you on an unconscious killing spree across town. You still don’t have all the answers for that, but you’ll cross that bridge another time.

“I don’t know what I want, everything just feels so boring now,” you say, stomping your foot on the car floor for emphasis. “I know why we can’t kill people and yeah, it makes sense, but I just don’t understand how it’s so easy for you to walk away after everything. It’s like I’m a completely different person now because of you and you just want me to throw that away after you both fucking liked it so much.”

They’re quiet for a moment while they chew on that. Your cheek twitches and you feel the sting of tears in your eyes while you furiously blink them back.

Agatha finally looks back at you and offers you a tight smile. “You’re right, honey. And we don’t want you to throw it away, we like this version of you—”

“—very much—” Rio interjects and Agatha smirks. The memories of having the hottest sex you’ve ever had flash into your mind and your cheeks heat up, and you can tell they’re thinking of the same thing. You hate to think it was because of the murders, but you think the feeling that the three of you get from it at least contributed.

“—and we don’t expect you to just be able to get rid of it. But,” Agatha warns, “we’re going to need to be more careful.”

You nod before the gravity of what she’s saying really sinks in. “Wait, we?”

Rio snorts. “Doll, you are so absolutely fascinating. There’s something about the way your brain works that is just captivating, and also so hot. You, being like this? That's hot to us.”

“We know exactly how you feel,” Agatha reassures, and for two serial killers who gaslighted and manipulated and used you, they really are sweet sometimes. “But if we’re going to kill people, which, it seems like you’re not able to stop —” your head ducks, slightly embarrassed, “—we’re going to help. And we’re going to do it carefully and we’re going to think it through so that we don’t get caught.”

A low heat thrums under your skin at the thought of the three of you killing together. If the sex was that good after they killed someone without you, and after you killed someone alone, you can only imagine what it will be like when you get to be in the room.

Fuck.

You know they get turned on by it, too. And now you’re completely overwhelmed by the thought of seeing that spark in them as they watch the life drain out of someone’s eyes.

It’s not the death specifically, you know, that gets to you. It’s not the blood or the violence or the act of killing.

It’s the feeling of being alive. The feeling of having that much control and that much power over someone. You know it’s incredibly fucked up and twisted and dark — and sure, there’s definitely something wrong with you. You’d talk to your therapist, but if anything right now, Rio is actively trying to push you to be more of a killer.

Their acceptance also warms your body, because they see you, all of you, and they aren’t scared. They see the darkness, and they’re embracing it with open arms.

All you know is that you need them so bad, you need them more than life itself. That five weeks when you didn’t have them, when you thought they had abandoned you, was the worst period of your life. You couldn’t imagine doing that again.

“Okay,” you say, your voice thick with emotion.

They both glance back at you and nod. “Okay,” Agatha says. “We never do two in the same state.”

You’d like to mention with the rate you’re traveling at, you’re rarely in the same state for more than one day, but you agree.

“We plan it,” Rio says, and that one feels a little targeted. “We talk it through. Nothing impulsive — that’s how mistakes get made. We need to make sure we have cleaning supplies: bleach, hydrogen peroxide. We cannot leave a trace. We need to be smart about it.”

It takes you a moment to think of one. “We do it, and then leave town right after. No sticking around for anything.”

“Not even sex?” Agatha asks, a teasing lilt to her tone, and she turns back to wink at you. There’s a rush of arousal in your stomach and you smirk back at her.

“I thought that was implied,” you answer and with the look on her face, you know you said the right thing.

Rio digs around in the cooler bag before grabbing a drink and taking a sip. She passes it to Agatha and then back to you. “How do you feel now?” she asks.

You take a moment to assess. The itching feeling has been gone since you came over Agatha’s face just an hour ago — or was it from murdering that man? You no longer feel restless either. “I’m good,” you say, and it feels right.

The next few hours pass quickly and you’re almost out of Mississippi when you really have to pee.

“Agatha, do you think we could stop soon?” You shift from side to side and try not to think too hard about it. You’ve heard that thinking about sex can get rid of the urge, so you try but the pressure on your bladder is too great.

She glances at you through the rearview mirror to see the pained expression on your face. You know she’d like to keep driving, but Rio’s stomach grumbles loudly and Agatha pulls off the interstate at the next exit.

You’re almost to the border of Arkansas, and there is almost nothing in sight except for what looks like a practically empty, run-down mall. It’s strange that that’s the first thing you find, even before a gas station, but Agatha pulls into the parking lot anyway.

The three of you get out of the car, but before you can hurry inside, Rio stops you with a hand on your arm. You stop and look at her, squinting your eyes from the sun. With only traveling at night and staying inside the whole the past few days, you’ve forgotten what the warmth and light has felt like.

“Doll,” she says, sounding a little nervous. Agatha comes to stand next to her so they’re both facing you. You can’t help but worry about whatever this is, but then Rio reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small, silver ring. Your breath catches in your throat.

It matches the ones they’re wearing.

“When did you—” You’re completely overwhelmed now and all you can do is reach out your left hand.

Rio smiles and slides it onto your ring finger. It might be a tad bit too small, but the gesture is everything to you. “When I was getting the stuff for the oil change. I saw it and thought that it would look great on you.”

You hold it up, admiring the way the sun glints off it. It’s nothing special, a cheap ring from the grocery store, but it means that you belong to them. And they belong to you.

The kisses that they give you after are so sweet it almost makes you melt, and you feel your heart swell. Even though this is not what you imagined your life looking like at this point, you couldn’t imagine wanting it to be different. There was a dormant part of your brain that is finally awake now — and it’s all because of them.

You walk, hand-in-hand with them on either side of you, into the mall, where there are maybe four people in the entire food court, not counting the workers at the restaurants.

“How about a pizza, superstar?” Agatha suggests. “Nothing says ‘symbolic wedding’ quite like cheese and pepperoni.” Rio snorts.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll be right back,” you say before darting to the restroom.

When you come out of the bathroom, wiping your still-damp hands on your jeans and trying to get used to the feeling of the ring, a woman catches your eye.

She’s standing a yellow sign up on the outside of a shop, whistling to herself, wearing flowy blue pants, a white top with a plunging neckline, and a long, colorful coat with embroidered patterns. Her curly gray hair is in a loose bun atop her head and you can see her lips stained a dark red. The vague sense of familiarity creeps up the back of your neck — have you seen her before?

You look closer at the sign and read Madame Calderu’s Psychic Readings in cursive blue lettering and your nose wrinkles before scoffing. Leaving it to an almost-deserted mall to resort to ripping off gullible people in a last ditch attempt to stay relevant.

The woman hears your sound though, and looks up. “I’ve been expecting you,” she says in a mystical voice and it almost makes you laugh.

“Do you say that to everyone who walks by?” you mock but she beckons you forward with a hand while shaking her head. You know you should turn around and go find Agatha and Rio, who are surely waiting for you in the food court by now, but something draws you in. You take a step closer and peer through the windows of her shop to find it absolutely cluttered with gemstones and crystal balls and lines of beads and dream catchers hanging from the ceiling. There’s posters and electric neon signs on the walls and one table in the middle with two chairs.

She sees you looking and she smiles. “Why don’t you come in? I’ll give you a reading for free. It seems like you have a lot on your mind.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she raises an eyebrow at you, and you give in. “Okay,” you mutter. It’s a bunch of hocus-pocus, but at least humoring the old lady is a nice thing to do.

Seemingly satisfied, and thankfully not making a comment about how she knew you’d say that, she opens the door and holds it for you before guiding you to the table.

Sitting down across from her, she gives you another glance before reaching over and grabbing a small box. She opens it and pulls out a deck of tarot cards. “Have you ever done this before?” she asks conversationally.

“Uh, no,” you answer quickly before realizing that it may have come off as rude. “Sorry, I just don’t really believe in it, Madame — um.” You forgot her name.

“You can call me Lilia,” she tells you in a silvery smooth voice, eyes flicking up to yours as she taps the cards on the table three times. “And it’s okay that you don’t believe. But the cards know all.”

You peer at her. “Do I know you?” You can’t shake the feeling that you’ve seen her before and the question slips out before you remember you’re supposed to be dead, so having someone recognize you wouldn’t really be the best. Your heart skips a beat and you watch with bated breath as she studies you.

If she says yes, if she places you from somewhere, it could all be over. Fuck, Agatha and Rio are going to kill you.

The tension becomes almost unbearable before she finally shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. Must be déjà vu or something,” she says and through your sigh of relief, you still find it in you to roll your eyes. She hands you the deck of cards. “Shuffle.”

She watches you closely as you randomize them and then hand them back to her. There’s a pit starting to grow in your stomach — nerves maybe? You shouldn’t be nervous about something that’s not even real.

Lilia waves a hand over the table, bringing your attention to the five lighter spaces on the wood. “We’re going to do a five card spread. You’ll ask a question and then the cards will reveal an answer through the past, present and future.”

What should you ask? Different possibilities swirl around your head — is there something wrong with you? Are you a bad person? Will Agatha and Rio get tired of you and leave? Did you do the right thing leaving with them?

It takes a moment for you to notice that Lilia is staring at you expectantly. “Oh, do I have to say it out loud?” She nods like it should’ve been obvious. Fuck, you have to ask a question that isn’t going to make her suspicious. “Um, okay. Did I…did I choose the right path?”

If she thinks it’s vague, or just a plain bad question, she doesn’t let on and pulls the first card. She sets it down in the middle and the first thing you notice is that it’s upside down. There’s a yellow background behind a black horse with red reins, and a knight atop the stead. In the man’s hand is a five-pointed star inside of a circle.

“First, we look at your present. The Knight of Pentacles reversed,” Lilia announces. “You feel stuck in a routine and you’re bored with how your life is. You need to change it, maybe add something to it.”

You swallow roughly and try to tell yourself that it’s just a coincidence. Maybe you were bored, but that was before Agatha and Rio changed the rules. You’re good now.

Lilia takes the next card of the deck and puts it on the space to your left. It’s a tall tower on top of a cliff, lightning striking the top and a crown being thrust off. Fire is erupting from the crack and the windows and two people are falling from it. This can’t be good.

“Now, we look at your past. The Tower. There has been a significant disruption in your life. There has been destruction,” she says and she taps the flames that are raining down. The image of your burning house flashes behind your eyes.

No. Tarot is a trick. There’s so many ways to interpret it, any person could relate to any of the cards. It doesn't mean anything.

The pit in your stomach grows.

Lilia flips over the next card and puts it to the right of the Knight of Pentacles. She frowns once she gets a look at it.

At first, you think it’s reversed because the person is upside down, you’re able to read the letters at the bottom normally. There’s a wooden T with leaves on the ends, and the person is hanging upside down in red pants, left leg crossed behind his straightened right one, and a blue long-sleeve tunic. There’s a yellow circle with spokes, almost like a sun, behind the head. There’s an eerie resemblance to a crucifix.

“The Hanged Man,” Lilia says in a hushed whisper. You gulp, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Why have you gotten the worst ones? “It suggests the ultimate surrender — a sacrifice.”

It’s not real. It’s not real.

You try to speak but it comes out as a croak and you have to clear your throat. “Who is going to be sacrificed?”

“That’s not how tarot works, darling,” she tuts and you have to bite back a retort. She puts the next one in the bottom slot, under the Knight. “Now we look at the cause for your question.”

It’s another horse, but a white one this time, with a green blanket around the body. A person in a red cloak sits on top with a wreath around the head, holding a long staff adorned with another wreath. In the background, there are people holding up five more sticks with laurels on them as well.

“The Six of Wands. You have had success, self-confidence, and most of all, recognition,” Lilia says. This one puzzles you a little more.

Is your success catching ‘The Witch’ and ‘Lady Death’? Is the recognition the fact that you’re on national television for allegedly being killed by them?

But then she flips the last card over and sets it down on the slot on top. “There are many different paths you could have taken, and can still take. But this one will show the potential.”

It’s a man, lying face down on what looks like a shoreline, dark clouds above, and swords impaled in his back. A cold sweat breaks out across your body.

“In your future,” she says. “The Ten of Swords. Betrayal.”

You shove your chair back from the table and it scrapes against the floor with a sound that would make you wince if you could hear over the blood pumping in your ears. Lilia tries to call after you, but you’re stumbling to the front door and you almost run right into a tall boy wearing a blue jacket. You mutter an apology and don’t even look back before you rush to find Agatha and Rio in the food court, sitting and picking at pieces of pizza while they chatter.

“There you are,” Agatha says when you drop into the seat in-between them. She passes you a plate, but you’re not hungry anymore.

Rio’s eyes narrow. “You okay? Didn’t kill anyone else while you were in the bathroom, did you?” Agatha chuckles at her wife’s joke and reaches over to take your left hand and trace over the ring that’s just a little too tight on your finger now.

“I love the way this looks on you,” the older woman murmurs. “You’re all ours.”

You smile and nod, but you can’t get the cards out of your head. Betrayal. Sacrifice.

Are they going to betray you? Are you the sacrifice?

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @luckypupsmama @dontsh0vethesun @sydforreal24

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha all along #rio x agatha #rio vidal x reader #rio x reader #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agathario x reader #agathario #rio x you #covsfics #all that's left to burn

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yanderes-galore · 5 months ago

Note

Eren Yeager with prompts 1, 6, and 46, please!

The plot may be Eren fighting with his Darling one last time about his decision about the Rumbling. He promises he'll be back with them once he finishes what needs to be done and an argument starts between them where the already unhappy Darling tries to knock the last bit of sense into him before Eren goes off to finish what he's started. I'll leave the rest to you, thank you! :)

I think I've seen enough of Season 4 to write this? Let's see how this goes.

Yandere! Eren Yeager Prompts 1, 6, 46

"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you."

"A good partner must be willing to make sacrifices for their beloved! Don't you agree?"

"Even monsters can love, can't they...?"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Overprotective behavior, Mass murder implied, Isolation/Imprisonment implied, Forced kiss, Dubious relationship.

"There has to be another way, you can't be serious, Eren!" You plead to the man in front of you, watching as he leans against the wall on the far end of the room.

"Why do you have so much sympathy for them?" Eren states coldly, tone even with not much emotion. "They're sending people to kill us on this island... I'm doing what's best for us."

The Rumbling had been an idea tossed around for a while now. It had been talked about along with the Founding Titan for various reasons. You thought Eren would simply go along with making Eldians infertile with Zeke...

Yet it seems he's decided to go with the more destructive option.

"It's not right..." You try to argue but Eren, your boyfriend, shushes you with an unamused look.

"This isn't about what's right. They don't care about the Eldians." Eren continues, stepping closer. "Did you forget about how much our friends mean to me... how much you mean to me?"

You feel the man in front of you cup your cheeks, cold blue eyes staring into your own. You freeze when he touches you but reluctantly melt into it. It's been a while since you've had such affection...

Mostly because your relationship with Eren has been rocky the last four years.

"I'm mostly doing this for you, know that?" Eren whispers, breath ghosting over your face. "I want to make this place somewhere safe for us. I don't plan on coming back to you until I achieve that."

"Eren, please, Zeke's plan—" Eren's grip suddenly tightens.

"I don't care what Zeke thinks... You shouldn't either. All you need to know is I'm doing this for you... No one can hurt you if I do this. You and I can finally be happy, know that?"

You feel Eren let go only to pull you into a hug. You struggle, still uncomfortable with the idea of your boyfriend committing mass murder. You still want to think there's ways to make peace with Marley without wiping them out....

Eren could care less about them... not when he has someone like you to care for and keep to himself.

"I'd burn this world and everything in it for you." Eren admits, whispering gently into your neck as he holds you close. You can tell he's manipulating you. After all... He hasn't been this affectionate in weeks since going to Marley. "You're all that matters to me. You always have been."

"Eren... Please just listen... The others are coming up with ideas, I'm sure of it. I can't go along with this...!" You continue to plead, but Eren merely pulls back to look at you in the eyes again.

You can see disappointment and irritation there.

"... I'd kill for you." Eren admits, holding you tight. "In fact, I already have. I've dedicated myself to you so much that no one else matters anymore."

Eren tilts your chin up, his other arm firmly wrapped around your waist.

"A good partner must be willing to make sacrifices for their beloved. Don't you agree?" Eren whispers, ghosting over your lips as though he wants to kiss you. "Can't you see I love you? That you're my motivation... That I'd be willing to destroy this world for you just to give you a happy ending?"

Eren's words made you push against him. He acted like The Rumbling was going to be some romantic gesture to you. He acted like killing millions to 'protect' you was right because you're the only thing that matters to him.

He was too far gone, he probably already was after the Titans were dealt with...

You wonder if what he says is true... If he's really killed for you in the past... and if that even matters now considering what he's planning to do next.

"Get away from me—!" You bark, scrambling out of his hold. Eren watches you blankly, as if just observing what you plan to do next. You then glare in response.

"Eren, I can't do this anymore. I can't love you anymore!" You confess, briefly noticing the tension in Eren's body as he watches you. "You're a monster!"

"A monster?" Eren murmurs, you hate how he seems so casual. "I'm a monster to you?"

"Yes!" You cry, unsure how to sway him from his decision. You thought this would work... breaking it off should snap him out of it...

Yet of course, it didn't matter.

"Fine." Eren answers, stalking closer. "I'm a monster, I accept that."

You make a strangled noise when Eren pins you to the wall of the room. You claw at his wrist when he lightly squeezes your neck. It isn't tight... but it allows him to lean close.

"Even monsters can love, can't they...?" Eren whispers in your ear, keeping you stuck against him. "After all, I know you still love me. There's nowhere else to go, no one else who will dedicate themselves to you like me..."

Eren leans closer, a smug grin on his face.

"No one would level villages or continents just to keep you safe. You'd be miserable with anyone else but me. I'm all you have, I'm all that matters... The Rumbling will happen..." Eren continues, lips grazing against yours.

"... and I'll do it in your name." Eren then kisses you. You struggle against him but he prevents it from happening. By the time he pulls away you spit in his face...

He just laughs.

"Do me a favor and be good while I'm gone, alright?" Eren hums before letting you go. It's then Eren goes to walk away but you try to follow.

"Eren, no, don't do this...!" You cry, Eren ignores you.

"I'll have Mikasa and Armin watch you while I'm gone..." Eren replied, turning to look at you as he puts a hand on the door.

"You better have an apology ready for me when I come back, sweetheart."

It's then Eren shuts the door and you swear you hear it lock...

Leaving you with the knowledge, guilt, and regret that you couldn't stop Eren... along with the dread of what will happen when he's back....

#yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere shingeki no kyojin #yandere snk #yandere eren yeager #yandere eren

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nightsmarish · 1 year ago

Text

Summary: as summer at hogwarts approaches, both you and Regulus build up your walls again, lose sleep, and are warry of saying yes to the offer to go to Potter Manor.

A/n: might write a pt.2? Would we like that? Maybe? Idk, I lost the plot halfway through and u can tell lmao. Also, have not written for this specific ship, so I may not be as good as the queen of this ship

Update!: pt2

Poly!moonwater x gn!reader (Remus lupin x regulus black x reader) | 1.6k words

Tw: allusions to toxic family, losing sleep, snippy bc of losing sleep, negative thoughts, anxiety, a nap dude

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆⊹₊ ✰ ⋆

History of Magic is usually an easy subject. Sit down, take notes, look over the assignment, complete it during dinner or before bed, and you're done.

But today everything but that is happening. You managed to get all the way to sitting down and pulling out your parchment and quill before the words Professor Binns says all mesh together. Nothing makes sense.

And you know it's due to the ache behind your eyes, the pounding in your head and the ache in your bones.

The last few nights you haven't slept, not really at least. It's nearing the end of this year at Hogwarts so everyone is preparing to go home. Planning what they will do with one another over break before the new year starts up. Talking about their family traditions, and a feeling of excitement takes the castle.

Despite this, a feeling of dread has been following you like your own personal rain cloud. The knowledge you'll have to return home eating you alive. Knowing you won't be able to contact Remus or Regulus, less your parents find out you're dating them, making you feel like you're choking on your heart.

The memories you've made this year really should weigh out the weeks you will spend with your family. In the stiff place, you're forced to call home with strict rules and expectations. Yet, you feel horrible. And it's been causing you to force yourself into your studies for the upcoming tests. Avoiding sleep due to nightmares that have recently plagued your mind.

Which leads to now, the room spinning slowly on an axis, ans Professor Binns slightly to blurry, even for a ghost. You know you need to zone back in, drink some water, take a vitamin potion or even visit Madam Pomfrey at this rate. Yet you can't make yourself do it.

Continuing to stay in your zoned out state till the end of class. And that's when even you draw the line.

Standing up from your seat as everyone filters out, albeit a little you're moving a little slower than usual, you exit in search of your boyfriends. Either or both. And it's not exactly a very long search, quickly finding yourself face to face with Regulus Black and Remus Lupin.

"Hey, dove." Remus' voice is sweet, per usual, like the comfort of a spoon full of honey on a sore throat.

Regulus doesn't speak for a full moment, analyzing you. To anyone else it would look judgmental, but the softness in his eyes and slight pull at the edge of his lips tell you differently.

"Hi, Rem." The boys look at one another, an unspoken conversation playing out.

"Why don't we go to my dorm?" Remus looks back to you, "haven't had much time for the three of us. James and Sirius have quidditch, and Peter is going to his study group."

"I'm down." Without another word, the three of you walk towards Gryffindor tower.

ᯓ★

Remus knows that Regulus tends to be a little quieter the closer to the end of the year, having been around the other Black brother for a while now. Already knowing how closed off Sirius would get when he still lived at the Black Manor, building up the walls early to protect himself when he left.

Even now, Sirius does it. Remus isn't sure if it's a habit or the fact that Regulus has been refusing to take the offer to stay at Potter Manor as well.

But you? You, he's not sure. Remus knows you and Regulus have known one another longer than he's known you, and that's never really bothered him. Remus knows all three of you love one another, and he's never felt left out. But know? Know he wishes you'd talk about your own home life.

Regulus doesn't like talking about his experiences at home; the only thing Remus knows is from old stories from Sirius. And Remus will never pry, not wanting to force either of you to do anything you don't want to.

But Merlin, he feels nearly useless right now, wishing to see the tension in your shoulders calm, wishing to see you and Regulus calm again. Wishing Regulus would take the offer to join them at Potter Manor. He wishes for both your safety more than anything.

The walk to the dorm is quite, but not peaceful. Everyone trying to stay calm and wishing someone else would say something. But no one knowing quite what to say to break the silence.

Once you do get up to the dorm, the Gryffindor's dorm, Regulus sets his bag by Remus' nightstand, you following suit, the emblems on your bags a contrast to the surrounding room. Regulus goes to find clothes he's left in Remus' closet before, while you sit on the lycans bed to slip off your shoes. Remus sits next to you, his hand resting on your lower back.

And finally, after far too long, Remus breaks the silence. "Dove..."

You glance up at him as you slip your shoes under the edge of his bed. "Yes?"

Remus sends a quick glance to Regulus, who's slipping on a long black sleeve shirt, one more comfortable than the previous Slytherin uniform. "I understand if you aren't comfortable with it, but..." He pauses for a moment, glancing back to look into your eyes, his thumb rubbing gentle strokes on your spine. "If you want to, you know you're welcome to stay at James' house."

Under his hand, Remus feels you tense, and from his peripheral, Regulus paused to listen.

"That's- that's okay, Remus. But tell James I appreciate the offer, please." You stand up far too fast for your lack of sleep, causing you to fall right back where you were sitting. Alerting both boys.

One of Remus' hands stay glued to your back, the other on your shoulder, as if your keen over. Regulus is quick to stand infront of you.

"Love, you should stay with them." Regulus' voice is full of worry. "It's better than any other option."

"You're not going." Your eyes shoot up to Regulus', far more defensive than you mean to be. Remus' hand, which was previously on your shoulder, moves down to the bed, the other hand continuing to run against your spine again.

"That's doesn't mean you shouldn't go." Regulus matches your defensiveness out of habit.

"You both should come." Remus talks before you can shoot back, hand on the bed finally moving to Regulus' arm, never seeming to catch a break.

There's a heavy pause. One that goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time.

"I'll think about it if you do." Your voice is more timid as you hold your stare at Regulus' eyes, his boring right back into you. Intense, deep, and so, so, loving.

Regulus sighs, "fine."

"Thank you, both. Seriously, you should come. James and Sirius want you guys there. Not to mention James' parents, they love new people." Remus kisses your hair line, standing up, hand leaving your back, before kissing Regulus on the lips. Both your bodies lossen.

Remus moves to change out of his uniform, and you quickly stand up to join him. Regulus' hand comes out to make sure you're steady as you grab a pair of sweats that no one truly knows who belongs to. They were probably once James, but at some point Lily stole them, and at a different point Sirius stole them back, and now so many of your friends have worn them at some point, it's probably weird.

Grabbing those and a jumper belonging to Regulus, you turn back to see Remus already curled around Regulus' back, who lays with enough room for you to join them. Both trying not to show just how eager they are for an afternoon nap.

You climb onto Remus' bed as well, using your wand to close the curtains, magically dimming the lights in the room before placing it on the bedside table. Curling into Regulus' front, leg thrown over his hip, you tuck your head into his neck. Yet your eyes remain open.

You definitely want to sleep, and you know you should, Remus is likely already asleep, knowing the bastard sleeps like the dead. Yet the knowing you could have another wretched nightmare makes you stay awake, staring over Regulus' shoulder the the golden brown hair tucked into his back, belonging to Remus, and letting the black hair belonging to Regulus slightly tickle your cheek.

"Go to sleep dove. Both of you. Please, you can't function without it." Remus' voice seems to startle both you and Regulus, both believing he was asleep, and believing the same about one another.

You pull back from Regulus neck, facing him, seeing the features of his face barely visible in the dark room. "We will, baby." Your voice is soft, as if you were telling a secret.

Remus merely hums and shift slightly before relaxing back into Regulus' back.

"Get some sleep, darling." Regulus kisses your cheek, "it's going to be okay in the end."

"I know. I know. We both need sleep; Remus is gonna kill us." Softly connecting your lips with his, slow and lazy, both smiling at the hum from Remus, confirming the empty threat you made for him.

You return to your being tucked into Regulus' neck. "'M sorry for being snappy with you." You mumble against his skin.

"You have nothing to apologies for, I understand where you're coming from darling." His hand rests on your hip and lower back, relaxing further into you and Remus, closer and closer to having a lovely nap. Of which, you join with the hopes of no nightmares.

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