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himasgod · 3 months ago

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Can you do 2nd year's where u stop giving them attention? 🩷

SECOND YEARS X READER

Where you suddenly stop giving them attention

FIRST YEARS HERE

How would the second years react if you suddenly stopped pampering them due to lack of sleep because of your studies?

Floyd was addicted to your attention.

Just like that. No sugarcoating.

He loved it when you looked for him, when you hugged him in public, when you called him “my baby” Because only you could do that without making him mad. Only you could calm his tide of emotions with a smile.

"Shriiimpy~ you're super cuddly today, I looove it."

He was happy. So happy he didn’t even try to hide it. He became calmer when you were around, more cheerful, less chaotic.

But when you stop showing up, when the “Floyd, come here” turns into “sorry, I have to go,” Floyd starts acting weird.

At first, he insists.

"Shrimpy! Are you ignoring me? Are you playing hide-and-seek without telling me? So boring!"

But when he realizes it’s not a game, that your eyes look dull, that you don’t even notice you’re pushing him away, something inside him churns. His smile fades. He stops going after you. He just watches you from afar.

And inside, he feels like a forgotten child.

Until one day, he gets fed up.

He corners you against your locker with his arms on either side of your head, his face more serious than ever.

"What’s wrong with you? You don’t love me anymore? You got bored? Did I piss you off?"

You don’t know what to say. You’re so tired you don’t even have the strength to lie. You just lower your head, murmuring a soft “sorry, I’m exhausted.”

And Floyd… goes still.

"You’re sad? You’re tired and didn’t tell me?"

He looks at you in silence for a second. Then wraps his arms around you tightly, hiding his face in your neck.

"I don’t care if you don’t hug me or look for me… but don’t disappear on me like that. Don’t leave me without you, Shrimpy."

And that day, Floyd doesn’t let go of you for a second. He carries you like a blanket and takes you to his room, lets you sleep against his chest like a plushie and sings you a song softly, no teasing, no sarcasm.

"Sleep. I’ll take care of you. Even if you don’t spoil me, I’ll spoil you now."

Jamil wasn't used to being the center of anyone's attention.

His whole life revolved around obeying, caring, and repressing. Emotions were dangerous. Affection… even more so.

So when you started doting on him—for real, without expecting anything in return—he refused to believe it.

Every touch of yours made him tense; every sweet word forced him to look away.

But he got used to it. Or rather, he allowed himself to depend on it a little. On you. On your silent attentions. On how you noticed when he was overwhelmed and simply held his hand without saying anything. On how you reminded him that he was valuable beyond his usefulness.

And then, one day, all of that stopped.

Without an explanation. Without a fight. Without an "I'm tired." Just… absence. Averted glances. "Sorry, I don't have time right now." Entire days without messages. And he, silent, swallowing his doubts.

"Did I dream it? Was it always a lie? Have they had enough of someone like me?"

He doesn't tell you. Jamil would never admit it. But he starts acting drier, more evasive. He avoids you so you don't notice how much it hurts. Until he sees you asleep with your head on your notes, your back hunched, and your breathing heavy with stress.

And in that instant, the anger collapses. All the accumulated venom turns to worry.

He approaches silently. He covers you with his jacket. He sighs deeply, as if crushed by the weight of something he can no longer contain.

"…You're not the only one who's tired of pretending everything is okay."

He wakes you gently, almost fearfully. When you open your eyes, you see something different in his: not anger, not reproach… but contained sadness.

"If you're exhausted, tell me. Don't leave me alone imagining that I no longer mean anything. Because you don't know how much it hurts when the only place where I felt free… disappears too."

That day, Jamil accompanies you to your room. He forces you to eat, to drink water, to sleep well. He doesn't ask you for anything in return.

But as he strokes your hair with trembling fingers, he whispers softly:

"This time, it's my turn to take care of you. But don't go away. Not again."

Kalim adores you. There's no other word. For him, your love is like the sun after a sandstorm, like a laugh in the midst of silence.

He's always been generous, always giving love without asking for it. But when you started pampering him, it was as if for the first time he received without needing to give. Your spontaneous kisses, your texts reminding him to drink water, your way of saying "I miss you" even though you'd only seen him two hours ago…

"It makes me so happy to know you're thinking of me!" he would always tell you, hugging you tightly.

So when that disappears, Kalim doesn't know what to do.

At first, he tries to cheer himself up. "I'm sure they're busy. Everything will be okay."

But as the days pass, uncertainty eats away at his smile.

He starts looking for you more insistently. Laughing louder. Proposing plans.

"Let's go carpet flying! We haven't been out in a long time!"

But you just tell him, “I'm sorry, Kalim, I can't today.”

And that day, when you walk away without looking him in the eye, something in his expression changes. His smile freezes.

He follows you with his eyes until you disappear into the hallways. Then he sits alone, in a corner of the garden, hands clasped together.

“Maybe… I did something wrong. Maybe I was too intense. Maybe… they don't love me like they used to.”

When he finally finds you asleep in the common room, exhausted and murmuring words in your sleep, his heart breaks.

“Oh… that's it. You're tired. You're so tired, and all I thought about was myself.”

He approaches carefully, tucks your hair behind your ear, and in a low voice, with that pure tenderness that characterizes him, he speaks to you even though he knows you're not listening:

“You don't need to be strong for me all the time. It's okay if you can't pamper me. I love you the same. I'll be here the same. Always."

That night, Kalim tucks you into the softest blanket he can find, leaves a cup of tea on the nightstand, and a note written in his big, cheerful handwriting:

“Don't miss me. Don't pressure yourself. Just rest. I'll be here when you wake up. I love you always, even when you can't show it.”

And yes. He keeps his promise. When you open your eyes, he's there, smiling brightly, holding your hand.

“Did you sleep well? It's my turn to take care of you today, okay?”

Riddle was so nervous at the beginning of the relationship that every gesture of affection from you left him silent, blushing, confused. But over time, he began to crave your attention as if it were afternoon tea: part of his routine, a sacred ritual.

You organizing his schedule, reminding him to rest, kissing his forehead when his headache ached—it was your way of caring for him, and he accepted it like a blessing.

But when that disappears, Riddle panics.

He doesn't show it right away, of course. He denies what he feels.

"Theyre probably busy. I shouldn't bother them. I shouldn't show weakness…"

Until anxiety consumes him. Until he accidentally explodes.

"You didn't reply to the text I sent you three days ago! Did I do something wrong?! Why are you ignoring me?!"

And when you turn around, your eyes tired, unable to even stand completely, Riddle feels his heart sink.

"Oh… you're… you're exhausted…"

He sees you trembling. He sees the dark circles under your eyes. He sees you like a castle about to collapse.

Then he takes a step back, swallowing. He lowers his gaze. He approaches calmly and takes your hand, his tone infinitely softer.

"Forgive me. I didn't know how to see it. You don't need to explain anything to me. Just… come with me."

He takes you to his room. He changes his schedule. He suspends his studies. He makes tea. And when he sees you asleep, tangled in his blanket, he closes his eyes with guilt and tenderness.

"You taught me to be loved… now it's my turn to learn to care for you as you deserve."

And that night, Riddle Rosehearts doesn't sleep. He stays by your side, watching over your sleep, like someone tending a beautiful garden that has flourished even in the harshest spring.

Jade is a man of subtleties. Of long silences, gentle smiles, and eyes that observe more than they say. When you started pampering him, at first he thought you were just playing around… but over time, he understood that your attentions were sincere. You made small braids in his hair when he rested with you, brought him new herbal teas to try, told him how much his presence calmed you.

And he, silently, became addicted to it.

Not because he needed it—or so he wanted to believe—but because it made him feel human, and not just another servant of his brother's capricious emotions or a mere executor of orders.

So when that warmth disappears overnight, when you stop texting him, stopping by the lounge, touching his hand for no reason… Jade doesn't say anything. He doesn't pressure you. He just observes.

But behind that apparent serenity, a restlessness begins to grow in his chest.

Until one day, when he notices you in the greenhouse, half asleep, lying on a flowerpot, your face covered in dirt and your hands trembling, he approaches silently. He doesn't say "I missed you," he doesn't complain.

He just crouches down beside you and begins to wipe the mud off your fingers with a white handkerchief.

"I was wondering… if plants also stop blooming if their gardeners forget themselves."

And then, without warning, he looks into your eyes, very close.

"I don't need your touch to be with you. But I can't bear to see you like this… as if you'd vanished without realizing it."

He helps you to your feet. He leads you to his room. He makes lavender tea. And that night, he sits beside you, silent, gently touching your hand, as if afraid of breaking you.

"When you're ready, I will once again receive each of your caresses with gratitude… but for now, allow me to take care of you."

Azul is used to transactions. To giving in order to receive. To measuring affection in terms of utility and results. But you… you broke his logic from day one. You gave him attention and affection, without conditions. You hugged him when he frowned. You defended him when others saw him as just another merchant.

And Azul, for the first time, didn't know what to give in return. He felt awkward. Exposed. But happy.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? Not even a symbolic contract…?"

And yet, every time you looked at him with genuine love, his insecurities faded a little. Your affection transformed him.

So when you stop pursuing him, when your messages dry up and your visits to the Monstro Lounge cease, his first reaction is to panic.

"Did I say something wrong? Is she angry with me? Did she regret it?"

He starts replaying conversations, looking for signs. He locks himself in his office, checks his magic mirror to see you from afar (blame it on jealousy, blame it on anxiety), and what he sees isn't contempt… it's exhaustion.

He watches you drag yourself between classes. Fall asleep over your notes. Walk like a ghost.

And something in him snaps.

The next day, a note arrives, delicately folded.

"Come by the Lounge this afternoon. I've reserved the place just for us. It's not a formal date. I just want to see you."

When you arrive, Azul is waiting for you with a warm cup of your favorite beverage and a blanket draped over the shoulders of the most comfortable chair. He invites you to sit. He doesn't try to talk business, or magic, or anything. He just watches you, with unusual calm.

"I don't need your daily flattery to know you appreciate me. But if you're losing yourself, then I… I can't stay still."

His voice trembles a little. Azul isn't good at showing vulnerability. But he tries.

"You gave me more than I ever expected to receive. Let me give you back at least a part of it."

And that night, there are no contracts. No exchanges. Just Azul holding your hand as you sleep on his couch, a barely audible whisper in the air:

"Please… don't disappear again. You don't know how much I need you."

Ruggie never considered himself someone worthy of much luxury or attention. He comes from what's fair, what's scarce. He’s used to giving more than he receives. But when you came into his life and started spoiling him —with food, sweet words, casual affection— at first, he got defensive.

"What’s up with you? Are you bribing me or what?"

But then… he got used to it. And without realizing it, he became addicted to it. To the way you looked at him like he was special. To how you remembered the things he liked. To how you hugged him for no reason and called him “my boy”

So, when all of that stops suddenly, Ruggie doesn’t take it well. And he doesn’t express it with sadness, but with forced humor.

"Hey, did you replace me or what? 'Cause you don’t even throw a “hi” my way anymore. I feel like a forgotten veggie in the fridge."

He says it with a lopsided smile, like it’s a joke, but his hyena ears are drooping. His laugh sounds weak. He’s hurt, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

When he finally sees you collapse in the cafeteria, your head buried in your arms, not even touching the food given to you, something changes. He doesn’t joke anymore. He pulls you out of the place without asking, takes you behind the kitchen, puts a bun in your hand, and makes you eat.

"You know I don’t mind if you don’t pay attention to me… but this isn’t okay. You can’t keep going like this. I don’t want to see you falling apart from trying to carry everything alone."

And when you look at him, for the first time in days, with eyes glassy from guilt and exhaustion, he sighs.

"Dummy. You got me used to your affection and now you take it away. That’s not fair, is it?"

But he hugs you, without resentment, with the tenderness he keeps only for you. And that night, without you asking, he cooks your favorite dish and sits down to eat with you, talking nonsense until you laugh.

"Come on, boss. You spoil me, but now it’s my turn to take care of you, okay?"

Silver isn't a demanding person. His calm, almost ethereal nature makes him seem as if he's above common emotional needs. But since you've been with him, there's something that keeps him more awake, more grounded in the world. Your attentions, however small—a hand on his cheek, a loving whisper before he falls asleep, a smile when his eyes close—are what remind him that there's someone who chooses him every day, even when he's lost in his dreams.

That's why, when you start to distance yourself, he notices… even though he doesn't say anything.

At first, he thinks maybe he's imagining it. That he shouldn't be selfish. That you have your own problems too. But the days go by, and your greetings become automatic, your hugs are absent, and you're no longer there to wake him with affection when he falls asleep in the garden. And Silver begins to dream uneasy things. Dreams where he searches for you and can't find you. Where his world is silent and empty.

One afternoon, as you watch him from afar, he pauses, approaches with a serious look—serious, not angry—and offers you his hand.

"Come. I want to show you something."

He takes you to a corner of the forest where the sun's rays filter through the trees and the sound of water gently flows. There he sits with you, and for a moment he says nothing. He just listens. He watches the dark circles under your eyes form. How your shoulders slump with exhaustion.

"You always take care of me. You're always there for me, even when I can't stay awake myself. So now I want you to rest."

He takes off his coat and places it around your shoulders. Then he sits beside you, lets you rest your head on his chest, and closes your eyes.

"I don't need you to pamper me all the time. Just for you to be well. That's all I want."

And when you finally allow yourself to let out the silent cry, he doesn't move. He doesn't speak again. He just holds you. Like you did so many times.

#twisted x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x yuu #floyd leech x reader #floyd x yuu #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x yuu #jamil viper x reader #jamil x yuu #kalim al asim x reader #kalim x yuu #silver vanrouge x reader #silver x yuu #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x yuu

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ishestillapunk · 1 month ago

Text

Still smells like you (pt.2)

pairing: jackson!joel x f!reader

summary: after a vulnerable night on patrol with Joel, you both try to pretend nothing happened, but silence is unbearable.

tags: age gap (30's-50's), slow burn, smut lol, virginity loss, emotional sex, grief, messy communication, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected p in v (omg who said that), fingering, first time, lightly size kink, self worth issues, unresolved trauma

w/c: 2.4k

notes: you can find the first part to this short story here!

edit: oh yeah, desiré brought you a PART 3

He won’t shake that feeling off anytime soon.

Joel’s stuck with that kind of sick ache that comes after spilling your guts. Like he left a piece of himself behind with you, and now he’s scared you’ll hand it out to anyone who asks what went down on patrol.

Maybe he’s being dramatic. But it wasn’t just anything. Hell, he cried like a damn baby. Broke down like a damn kid because your words knocked the wind out of him.

“It’d just mean I got somethin’ good to tell those eyes when I see ’em again”

It wrecked him. Even back home, alone in his bed, curled around that old Polaroid of Sarah under his pillow, crying into the mattress like a fool.

Grief’s a weird thing. Real weird.

He even let himself cry about Ellie, who haven’t spoken to him in months. It’s like the world won’t quit reminding him—nothing is his to keep.

He sits on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with work-worn hands. Sleep hasn’t come easy. Hasn’t come at all, truth be told. Every time he closes his eyes, it’s you… walking past on the street, nodding like you’re no more than a neighbor.

But you’re not.

Sometimes, his chest tightens at the memory. His hands on your hips, boosting you onto that horse. The way your body felt under his fingers. That feeling hasn’t left.

Makes him feel like a fucking creep.

Joel squeezes his eyes shut to erase the feeling. It ain’t just shame. It’s softness, and softness only leads to hurt.

He exhales long, starts moving again, trying to start another day. The coffee pot’s set from last night. Old habit. One of those things he does hoping to make the mornings feel less empty. Coffee’s rare these days. Precious. But today, he needs it.

Out the window, Jackson’s still the same. Frost, snow shoveled by the night patrols, silence hanging heavy. He shuts his eyes again and sees you. Sitting on that cot, knees hugged to your chest. Saying things that make him feel too seen.

“I think if somethin’ happened to me after this, I wouldn’t mind much."

The way you looked at him after he raised his voice. Like you’d already punished yourself a hundred times over. Like the words weren’t even yours to say.

He rubs his face again.

"It was just a patrol," he mutters, gravel in his voice. "Got stranded for a coupla nights. That’s all."

But his mind won’t let it be. Not when he still feels your arms around him, your fingers in his hair, your scent in his neck. You didn’t flinch. Didn’t ask questions. You held him.

And on your end, that night hasn’t left you either.

You haven’t taken another patrol since. María never brought it up again, seemed to get the message. Maybe she saw it as a test you failed. You didn’t mind. Your comfort lives inside: The infirmary, the clean routine, the things that are yours.

You saw Joel sometimes. With Tommy. Working construction on the new expansion. Turns out the Miller boys used to be contractors or something like that is what you heard María say. Explains a lot.

Some weekends, you’d spot him at Tipsy Bison bar. Sitting with Tommy and María, nursing whiskey or beer. He’d barely say a word. Just a nod across the room. Sometimes he nodded back. Sometimes that little gesture fucked up your whole night. Keeping you waiting for him to approach or do something.

Something that never happens.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. What happened, what he tried to pretend didn’t. You remembered it with shame—not because of the moment itself, but because of how it still makes your stomach twist.

How he held you. Sought shelter in you.

You don’t get undone that easy. And no one ever looks at you that way. No one wants what you are. That’s just not your place. You’ve made peace with it. But Joel cracked something in you. Without meaning to.

You told yourself it was circumstance. One night. Cold, fear, death talk—shit like that happens to anyone. But your body remembers. It remembers his touch. His weight. His breath. And before you even realize it, your hands are under the sheets, your hips rolling slow, chasing your own fingers. Chasing a ghost.

You imagine him. What’s he like? Big? Long? Thick? Does he know what he’s doin’? Could he ever… make love? And then the guilt. Hot and fast.

He ain’t thinkin’ of you. He saw you ‘cause he knows you.

Because of a weird night on patrol.

Because he cried.

That’s it.

He don’t want you. You’re thirty-three. He’s pushing what—fifty-six?

You barely know each other.

He can’t want you. He can’t want you.

He doesn't know if you snore, or if you drink coffee. If you dream. If you ever loved anyone.

But he wants to. And that pisses him off.

Some nights, after enough rum, Joel lies there in the dark, hands flat by his sides. Like if he moves, it’ll all come crashing down.

"You alright, man?" Tommy claps a hand on Joel’s shoulder, leaving a beer on the long table. Tipsy Bison’s done up for Christmas, the tables pushed together, kids running around, country music drifting from the speakers.

Joel’s eyes are stuck on you. Sitting across the room by the dance floor, drink in hand, not joining the party.

"I’m fine" Joel mutters.

Tommy squints. "Fine’s the name? The new nurse that’s got you actin’ like you seen a ghost?"

Joel downs the whiskey in one go.

"She’s young."

"She ain’t fifteen. Looks thirty to me."

Joel glares.

"Sayin’ it like you broke a law."

Joel looks back at you.

"Ain’t just that."

"Then what?"

"I’m a whole mes–”

"If you start with that whole 'I’m a monster, I hurt everyone I love' speech, I swear—" Tommy leans in. "There’s folks in this town with more blood on their hands than you, and they still found someone to hold ‘em."

Tommy softens.

"I loved again, Joel. Had a kid when I thought I’d never feel nothin’ again. Thought I was done for. But I wasn’t. And you ain’t either."

Joel’s voice drops.

"I ain’t tryin’ to be the guy who lost his daughter, and whose adopted kid don’t speak to him no more." Joel says with his gaze on Tommy’s, eyes getting glassy.

Tommy squeezes his arm.

"That ain’t gonna happen. And I think she’ll understand."

He nods toward the door. You’re slippin’ on your coat, trying to duck out before midnight.

"Go on. Before you lose your Cinderella."

You step into the cold just as folks inside start counting down. The wind bites. You smile faintly. Memories.

"You headin’ home?"

You turn. He’s holdin’ the door open. No jacket. No gloves.

"You’re gonna freeze" you say, answering a question he didn’t ask.

He jogs down the steps, rubbing his hands together. "I’ll walk you."

You don’t say much. Just walk. The silence stretches out, thick.

"Saw you with Tommy’s fam" you finally say.

"I saw you the second you walked in."

You stop. He keeps walkin’ till he realizes you’re not beside him. Turns back.

"I thought you didn’t wanna see me" you say. Voice tight.

"Thought I fucked it all up." He shoves his hands out of his pockets, like honesty needs bare fingers.

"You didn’t say nothing, Joel. I spent day– fuck, weeks—wondering what the hell happened. If it even meant anything."

"I did too." He presses his lips together. "Didn’t know what to say. Felt like a fool."

He steps closer.

"I been thinkin’ ‘bout you every damn day. The way you held me. The way you didn’t ask shit. The way you talk. The way you—" He stops. Swallows. "You think about me?"

You stare at him. Then your door. Then back. You nod toward the house. He follows you inside without a word. You hang your coat. He’s rubbin’ his arms, cold sinkin’ in.

"Shoulda grabbed a coat" you say. Walking to the kitchen.

"Didn’t wanna lose sight of you…" he mutters.

You turn. He’s leanin’ against the island, eyes on the counter, thumb drawing lazy shapes on the surface. Then he looks up. Slow. Over your body, to your face.

"Yeah. I thought about you" you say, answering finally. "I touched myself thinking abbout you ‘cause I’m a fucking idiot who’s never even been touched before. You had me biting my damn pillow ‘cause of one fucking hug."

He closes the distance.

"If you let me, I’ll make sure it ain’t just a pillow next time."

His hands slide up your hips. Rough, steady.

"Joel… I don’t know anything ‘bout this…"

He frowns.

You gesture between you.

"I mean. I’ve never—"

"We ain’t gotta do nothin’ you don’t wanna do" he says gently. One hand cradles your jaw. His thumb brushes your lips.

"But I do. I want to" you whisper, looking away.

Joel studies you. Then leans in. Presses his thumb to your bottom lip as he kisses the corner of your mouth. Your fingers tremble where they rest on his arms. Then he really kisses you. Slow. Solid. He doesn't move until you open your mouth, and then it’s his tongue, his breath, his heat.

He exhales into you.

"Mmh" he murmurs. Voice soft, needy.

He presses you to the island, lips movin’ to your neck. Licks a line up your throat that makes your knees shake. Then, kissing, gasping, tripping, he walks you back to the bedroom.

"The—uh—the hallway’s—"

"Right side. I built this damn row myself" he mutters into your mouth.

Oh.

You’re soaked.

He opens the door. Leads you to the bed. He pulls your sweater over your head slow, taking his time.

When he’s shirtless, you freeze. Your eyes drag over his broad chest, the dusting of gray hair, the hard lines of muscle mixed with softness. Scar beside the navel, bush peeking out his waistband.

A man. An actual man. And you’ve never seen one like this.

Your breath hitches. He kisses your sternum, undoes your jeans, pulls them down with your socks.

"You’ll tell me if somethin’ don’t feel right, yeah?"

You nod. His mouth attaches to your nipples, sucking, then gives soft licks after your body gives a hard jolt. He notices you’re sensitive, and he wants to know more, to discover more of every inch that makes you, you.

"We’re alright" he murmurs. Hands slipping down to your panties. He slides them off.

You press your thighs together. He chuckles soft. He’s feeling it too.

"Open up for me, baby…" He kisses your inner thighs. Runs his nose up the sensitive skin. Hands caress your ass, coaxing you to open yourself to him.

Then, his mouth finds you.

"Fuck, Joel" you cry, fists clenching the sheets.

He licks like he’s starving. Filthy, wet, slow. He draws circles with his tongue on your clit, moaning low like he can’t help it. He feels you push yourself up on your elbows to watch him eat you out. His eyes, dark, filled with hunger, make your stomach melt. His lips wrap around your clit, suckling it, rolling it on his tongue, licking directly on it with the tip of his tongue.

His movements are encouraged by your sounds. Gasps. Breathless. He chuckles a low rumble while he nuzzles his nose against your pussy like he haven’t had anything like this in long.

"That’s it… Let me hear what feels good…" He pulls back. Slips one thick finger inside. Then another. He curls them. Press into that spot that makes your hips jump. His pads massage your walls and make you pinch your brows.

Then he stands. Opens his jeans. Pushes them down.

You look down and freeze.

Oh.

He’s hung.

Not freakishly so. But big. And you’ve never seen one in real life. Just those weird magazines you once found around while exploring before arriving Jackson.

You shift up the bed on instinct.

"Easy" he says. One hand on your thigh. His thumb strokes your clit, gentle. Feels you relax a tad bit.

"It’ll hurt a sec. But I got you."

He covers you with his body. Heavy and warm. You reach for his ribs. Wide and solid. Your eyes want to go again between you but he tilts your chin to kiss you deep again, his large hand holding your jaw and guiding you to open your mouth, letting him roll his tongue against yours. His nose pushes yours a bit, soft smiles escape him when he feels you gasp.

He slicks his cock in your wetness, dragging the head across your clit.

"Gonna go slow" he murmurs.

He pushes in. Inches. Your body tenses. Your hand presses his chest. It’s a whole lot different than your fingers. It stings and feels as if he’s about to tear the tender skin.

“Breathe… That’s it… You’re doin’ good, sweetheart…” He whispers against your mouth gently while his hand cup the back of your head.

"Wait—it—"

"I got you." He freezes. Way before you ask him to. "Wanna stop?"

"No. Don’t you dare. Just… slow."

He nods and moves. Deeper. No pleasure yet—just stretch, burn, pressure. Then he’s all the way in. Still. Breathing hard.

"Ready?"

You nod, barely. His hand slips between you. Circles your clit and it helps with pleasure to blur the pain.

You smile melted, arching slow, closing your eyes. Your hands fall on his gut, legs open on his sides.

"Yeah. Right there."

He starts moving. Slow. Deep. The pain spasms are there every now and then, but you feel it. You understand why there’s people that love this. You understand why there’s people addict to this. You understand why there’s people who can’t live without fucking.

The ache fades, replaced by something new. Something sweet. Your legs wrap around him. He groans, dips and to kiss your throat. His whole body covers you, warm and broad, hunched over like a damn animal.

Each thrust is steady. Focused.

Your lips are swollen. Your nails claw his back. Your thighs shake.

"W-wait—Joel—I’m—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna pee—"

He grins. Keeps going.

"Joel—"

He hits that spot again. And again. His pelvis brushing directly against your clit, his cock filling you completely as if you were made for him, his sounds. It’s like a sudden bomb ticking about to blow, the pot about to whistle, the thunder after the lightning, the wave crashing on the back.

“Ah!”

You come. Hard. Clutching him. Soaking him. He pulls out fast, groaning and jerking his cock until he spills across your belly. Painting your stomach with his art.

Both of you panting, wide-eyed while staring at each other.

Then, laughter.

Yours first. Loose, breathless, relieved.

Then his. Low, real, comfortable.

Because you both know.

You both know that you want each other.

here it is!!! thanks for reading! i really love fools in love, if you liked it, reblog, comment and like!

kisses!

#joel miller #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #fanfic writing #jackson!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #fluff #grief poetry #slow burn

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kxsagi · 2 months ago

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hey so erm can i request a platonic hcs list with bllk chars (u can choose whoever just as long as kunigami's there) with reader who is like very expressive and not at all nonchalant? like they'll get excited over nothing and be all over the place? oh and they barely have a concept of personal space so they always end up having way more physical contact with everyone without realizing

i love the gumpy x/& sunshine trope, if you cant tell

“𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬”

a/n: i love this trope too, many people close to me describe me as sunshine 😭

ft. kunigami rensuke, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, ness alexis, bachira meguru

kunigami rensuke (post-wild card)

stoic wall vs human tornado of emotions and hugs.

at first, kunigami is DEAD SET on maintaining his personal bubble like it’s a sacred shrine. you? you burst in like a joyful wrecking ball.

“kunigami!! guess what!! i learned how to juggle yesterday!! wanna see??”

before he can answer, you’re already draping yourself over his shoulders and tossing some invisible balls around.

he freezes. literally. doesn’t move for a solid 30 seconds.

“please maintain boundaries,” he grumbles, but the corner of his mouth twitches because honestly, he kind of likes the attention. (don’t tell him that.)

you take this as a challenge to get even more physical, so you start randomly poking his side and grabbing his hand like it’s your lifeline.

kunigami lowkey loves it when you touch him without asking. it’s surprising, but it makes his gruff exterior soften in a way he can’t explain.

he tries to keep a poker face but sometimes he just sighs and mutters, “stop being so… bright.”

you grin like, “you love it, don’t lie.”

his grumpy “hmph” sounds suspiciously like a smile.

when you’re sad or overwhelmed, kunigami becomes your stoic rock who’ll finally wrap his arms around you without a word, because he gets it.

your chaotic energy cracked his ice fortress, and he’s oddly grateful for it.

itoshi rin

your mere existence makes his blood pressure spike.

you burst into the room like “RINNNN!!! guess what!!! i saw a dog wearing SHOES!!!”

and rin, who was having a peaceful moment of silence, just flinches like he’s being attacked.

“why are you yelling. why are you touching me.”

because you’re already hugging him from behind and bouncing slightly, and he has to grab your wrists to stop you from choking him out in your excitement.

you playfully slap his chest when he makes a sarcastic comment and he malfunctions for a second like she just… hit me? playfully? affectionately???

secretly loves it when you cling to him like a sloth. pretends he doesn’t. but he adjusts his walking pace when you're glued to his arm.

“you don’t know personal space, do you?”

“nope!” you grin, and he groans but lets you lean your head on his shoulder anyway.

the team thinks you’re his emotional support golden retriever.

itoshi sae

honestly, he lets you climb him like a tree. doesn’t even react. you wrap your arms around his neck out of nowhere and he just goes, “you again.”

you’re always doing the most over the smallest things, like squealing over cute socks or gasping at a new vending machine flavor.

“look sae!! honey lemon sparkling water!!!”

“... incredible,” he deadpans while you spin in a circle.

you dramatically throw yourself across his lap and he doesn’t even flinch.

people are like “doesn’t she annoy you?” and sae’s just like “nah. she makes life less boring.”

he finds it fascinating how you show every emotion you feel in 4K and doesn’t stop you when you poke his cheeks or pull on his sleeves.

might even smirk when you start ranting about how unfair it is that pigeons don’t pay rent.

isagi yoichi

isagi.exe has stopped working the first time you glomped him from behind. he squeaked. actually squeaked.

“you can’t just TOUCH people like that!!”

“but you looked cute standing there like a confused little worm!”

blushes like crazy when you hold his hand out of nowhere or touch his face to “squish his cutie lil cheeks.”

lowkey flustered every single day. never builds up a tolerance.

sometimes you interrupt his game analysis with “YOOO LOOK AT THIS MEME” and he tries to act annoyed, but ends up giggling.

probably starts craving your physical touch and sunshine energy, but will never admit it until you don’t cling to him one day and he’s like “wait. where’s my daily affection?”

he goes: “hey um. you okay? you didn’t, like, tackle me today.”

sir… you miss her hugs just say that.

nagi seishiro

“you’re so loud….” he whines while you lie on top of him like a weighted blanket.

doesn’t mind that you invade his space. you're soft and warm and pet his hair without asking.

nagi gets addicted to headpats: a saga.

you squeal every time he scores a goal and jump on him like “MY GENIUS BOYFRIEND!!!”

he grumbles but wraps his arms around you anyway and mumbles, “so annoying…” with the fondest smile.

you do little things like tracing random doodles on his arm with your finger and he becomes physically incapable of moving.

at this point he’s like a house cat. you’re noisy but you pet him and love him and he’s never letting you go.

mikage reo

lives for your reactions. will literally buy you glittery pens or rainbow socks just to see your jaw drop and arms flail.

“YOU DIDN’T!!”

“I DID.”

you constantly sit in his lap or lean your entire body weight on him and he acts like it’s the best gift life has ever given him.

“babe, i love how you have no sense of boundaries. it’s so hot.”

sometimes you cling to his arm like a koala in public and strangers give him weird looks but he’s like “yeah. she’s cute, right?”

enables your energy 100%. brings snacks just to watch you squeal. kisses your forehead when you rant about niche things for 15 minutes straight.

chigiri hyoma

visibly flinches the first few times you launch yourself into his space.

he was not prepared. he's a delicate catboy.

“do you… do you always do this?”

“do what?” you say, your head tucked under his chin like a baby bird.

he gets used to it though. too used to it. starts missing the chaos when you’re not around.

your high-pitched “HYO-CHANNNN!! 💖” gives him a heart attack every time.

but when he’s sulking, you nuzzle his neck and go “who made my pretty boy sad?” and he melts. completely.

eventually starts leaning into your touch like it’s home.

shidou ryusei

thinks you’re the funniest thing to ever exist.

“you’re like a cartoon character. are you even real?”

you throw your arms around him in public and he’ll full-on spin you like “YEAHHHH SUNSHINE GIRLIEEEE!”

the only one as touchy and chaotic as you.

sometimes you talk so fast and wave your hands around that he’ll just grab them and kiss them to shut you up.

“aw, you’re wagging your tail again~”

“i do not have a tail.”

“you do now.”

becomes very possessive over your attention though. the moment you’re touchy with someone else, he’s clinging to you like a barnacle.

kaiser michael

pretends he’s annoyed by your energy. absolutely is not.

“ugh, you again. what do you want, a medal?”

“NO!! I WANT A HUG :D”

and then you tackle him and he stumbles but grins like a fool while rolling his eyes.

“so needy. it’s cute.”

you’ll plop onto his lap and start babbling about your day and he’ll act like he’s not listening but then go, “wait, what happened with the weird cashier guy?”

you hang off his arm at events and he jokes like, “she’s my emotional support gremlin. don’t touch her.”

loves that you’re so expressive. too expressive. kisses your forehead when you pout, pokes your cheek when you smile, fully addicted to your animated face.

ness alexis

sweet boy is SO overwhelmed.

you walk in like “NESSIE 🥰🩷🩷🩷” and cling to his arm with zero warning and he just blinks rapidly like a confused doll.

“w-we’re in public! d-do you always hug people like this?!”

the answer is yes. and you’re already wrapping a scarf around him and patting his cheeks like he’s your beloved poodle.

turns into a flustered mess every time. blushes all the way to his ears.

“you’re very… affectionate…” he says shyly.

“do you not like it?”

“n-no! i mean yes!! i mean– i don’t mind!!! i like you very much!!!”

poor boy stutters through every interaction while you’re over here playing with his fingers and calling him “little pocket prince.”

is 100% your biggest defender though. if anyone makes a comment like “wow she’s a lot,” ness snaps with a scary smile like “she’s PERFECT actually 🥰🔪”

he's not just whipped. he's frothed. he's foamed. he’s gushing like a soda can under pressure.

bachira meguru

your energy + bachira’s energy = the apocalypse.

you screech when you see a cat and jump on his back and he screeches too like “WOOOAAA CAAAAAT!!!”

you guys hold hands, link arms, lean on each other, and pile your legs on top of each other like it’s NORMAL.

physical contact? emotional support? bouncing like gremlins? that's just an every day thing.

the first time you randomly plopped into his lap while talking about how cute snails are, he just went “cozy~” and kept playing with your hair while humming.

he loves how you express every emotion like it’s a broadway performance.

“meguruuu look!! i drew us as frogs!!”

“AWESOME!! i’ll hang it on my wall next to my cursed pikachu drawing!!”

everyone else is like “how do you two never run out of energy” and you both look at each other and say “FRIENDSHIP JUICE!” before high-fiving with your feet.

genuinely thinks you’re the most fun person ever and smiles like a little gremlin every time you invade his space.

also? you two cuddling = tangle of limbs + aggressive giggling + a cat probably sitting on one of your heads.

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iluvbuckets · 3 months ago

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part 2 of wild thoughts pleaseeeee

literally one my hands and knees begging

i wanna know peace again

wild thoughts part 2

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: it's been almost a year since you last saw paige. you had been trying to deny the tension between you two, but when you find yourself at her wnba draft party, there's no denying that she is much, much more than your little brother's annoying friend.

warnings: a little angsty, mutual pining, teasing of course (wouldn't be my writing without it), begging, fingering, oral, some semi-public, a little edging, bottom!paige, paige is more whiny this time but also kind of a brat

word count: 6.3k

notes: lowkey nervous to post this but here's the highly requested part 2 <3 slightly unedited bc i didn't want to keep y'all waiting any longer

✷✷✷

it had been almost a year since you had seen paige.

after you both changed clothes to make sure you didn’t smell like sex, you both walked down the stairs to join your family in the kitchen. you tried to act like nothing happened–that you had just woken up–but you were having a hard time tearing your eyes away from her red, swollen lips. you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach did flips as you watched her hands move through the air as she spoke, the very same hands with the fingers that were just inside you. you wanted to take her back to your room.

you didn’t, though. not that day, and not for the rest of the week.

she had been a little less subtle about her staring, but nothing really changed. she was still a little awkward when you spoke, would still bring you food and drinks, and would still steal subtle little touches whenever possible, but you didn’t really talk to each other. it was like it never even happened. but that wasn’t the reason you didn’t.

honestly, you didn’t know if you even had a good reason for why you didn’t. maybe it was because if you acknowledged it, it would change everything and you weren’t very good with change. maybe it was because this was a dangerous territory of complicated feelings and emotions you were not ready to confront. you didn’t know, but she didn’t try either. it definitely stung, even though it shouldn’t have, but you tried to push the hypocritical feeling to the back of your mind so you could enjoy the rest of the week.

when you were all getting ready to leave, you gave her a hug about as quick as the one when you greeted her. the look of disappointment on her face was evident, but she managed to disguise it before anyone noticed. you pretended not to. and that was it.

you watched all of her games that season on a livestream. you considered sending a congratulatory text for her big east championship, then again for her national championship, but you didn’t. you figured it would be weird. she obviously didn’t want to hear from you considering she hadn’t made an effort to text you. though, you could imagine she probably felt the same way about you.

still, your mind would wander to thoughts of her at every chance. the way her lips felt on yours, the way she sounded so desperate for you, the way she had came in her pants just because she was pleasing you. you tried to ignore them, you really did, but it felt impossible.

that’s why you were surprised when your dad called to tell you that you were invited to her draft night and the afterparty that would follow it. you knew the invitation was given to you by default, that she was just inviting your family, but it made your heart flip in your chest nonetheless. the way his tone sounded on the phone made it seem like he knew something was up between you two, but you’re sure you were just overthinking the interaction.

you almost told him you were busy, but you knew it would be shitty of you to skip this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the girl who was as important to your family as you are just because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.

immediately after hanging up, you had pulled out your laptop to look for a new dress. you told yourself you weren’t trying to impress her, that it didn’t matter what she thought, but who were you fooling? you wanted her to remember, to think about the morning and wonder if it was a mistake that she didn’t reach out, even if you didn’t realize it.

before you knew it, you were boarding the plane to new york. to make it easier, you were flying separately from your family out of omaha while they were flying out of minnesota. you figured you would be wide awake, stressing about seeing her again and going over every possible scenario that could possibly happen, but you slept the entire flight–probably sleep debt from your many, many sleepless nights over the last year.

you didn’t get to see paige beforehand. she was busy with press, getting ready, and saying her goodbyes to her teammates that she was leaving behind. even though your family was a little disappointed, you don’t think you have ever been more relieved in your life. you were putting off seeing her after all this time because you didn’t know what would happen. you didn’t get much rest from her charm though, because you spent most of the day hanging out with her family.

would she pretend nothing happened and interact with you like it didn’t? that was probably best case scenario, honestly.

or would she freeze up and get all awkward, making it obvious that something had happened? that was your worst nightmare.

you hardly slept the night before. you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your phone in fear of accidentally stumbling across one of her many, many edits that are posted to social media, so you ended up just staring up at the ceiling in the dark. the possible scenarios ran through your head at an insane pace, but your eyes just wouldn’t close so you could escape them.

at 8am, you decided you would be nice and bring your brother some of the complimentary hotel breakfast. you didn’t know if you had an appetite to eat it in the first place, but you needed a way to get out all of the buzzing energy from the anticipation of the coming night. you made each of you a waffle, then grabbed two cartons of chocolate milk. you knew he would be able to eat more, but you only had two hands.

“can i ask you something?” he broke the comfortable silence after taking a few bites of his waffle. he was sitting in his bed while you were sitting in the office chair at the desk, picking at your own plate.

“what’s up?” you asked. your heart immediately picked up its pace at the possibility of what he could ask.

“is there something going on between you and paige?”

you almost choked on your food. “no. why do you ask?”

you hoped it wasn’t too obvious how you answered that a little too quickly. the room suddenly felt too small and warm for the two of you to be in there together comfortably, but you knew it would be a little too suspicious if you left or hinted at wanting to exit the conversation.

“she asked me if you were coming,” he said with a knowing look. “i was a little confused why she asked because i don’t know why you wouldn’t. i figured it was probably best to tell her that i didn’t know.”

you nodded, not really knowing what to say without saying something that would be incriminating. he seemed to notice too, but was trying to make you say it without straight up asking. you didn’t really know how to feel about him telling paige that he didn’t know if you were coming. on one hand, you were kind of excited that it would be a surprise. on the other, what if it being a surprise was bad? what if she asked because she was hoping you wouldn’t?

the possibilities had you overthinking the entire summer all over again. you were torn between completely regretting it and wishing it had never happened, and not regretting it at all. you only really regretted the after part, because damn did she give you some good head. when you tried to hook up with someone when you got back home, it didn’t even come close to comparing to her. whether or not it was the head game, the girl giving the head, or a combination of both that made it so unforgettable, in the moment, you weren’t sure.

you even tried filling the void with something a little bit more, to try to push down these sudden feelings for someone you shouldn’t have them for. it was a stupid fling–literally meant nothing to you, a classic situationship. she was blonde, like paige, but a little shorter. she would tell you everything you wanted to hear, she just wasn’t the one you wanted to hear it from. you would imagine every touch and every kiss was paige, that she was the one lying next to you.

maybe you shouldn’t even go today. what if your presence just pissed her off and you ruin the night?

“look, i know something happened last summer,” elijah said, his voice dropping. “something had to because she’s been asking about you. i know i used to joke about paige’s crush on you a lot, but now i’m pretty sure it’s more than a joke. i don’t want to lose my best friend because of it.”

a wave of guilt washed over you at his words. you hadn’t really considered how selfish your actions were before. you could easily ruin a 20 year friendship just because you were a little horny one time, and that wasn’t fair to your brother and your family. if it really was something more than one time, what if you broke up? what if it was messy? what if it affected your relationship with your brother?

suddenly feeling overwhelmed, you swallow nervously. “you have nothing to worry about. nothing happened and it never will.”

“okay,” he said, obviously unconvinced with furrowed brows, but didn’t push it. and you were grateful for that.

much to your dismay, the rest of the day flies by. you were hoping it would drag on so you could avoid seeing paige–avoid the feelings and regret. and hopefully avoid ending up in her bed at the end of the night (if she even lets you).

as you sat in the balcony of the event center, all dressed up watching paige’s big night, you couldn’t help but clench your jaw. specifically, when she hugged azzi first when her name was called or really, when she interacted with azzi at all. there was no justifiable reason. you knew azzi, had even met her on more than one occasion, but seeing paige with someone else caused your stomach to burn with a heated jealousy that you had never felt toward her before. they looked good together which made it that much worse.

you were relieved when you noticed that paige kept getting pulled to do media while the other names were being called. it’s the only thing that allowed you to sit through the rest of the actual draft with a fake smile that seemed to convince your parents (but maybe not your brother).

the hardest part would be getting through the afterparty.

this time, there would be opportunities to interact with paige–to accidentally bump into her, or not so accidentally. not only that, but there would be alcohol involved. you were known for having a big mouth while wasted, and for being particularly flirty. and so was she. you knew this, you had seen her say some things she probably shouldn’t and hang off people like they were a teddy bear to her. you had never thought much of it before, but suddenly, the idea of her doing that with someone else made you feel physically ill.

you knew you shouldn’t be feeling that way. it was your fault that you were in this position. you knew how she felt, you knew that she wouldn’t have rejected you if you made another move. you knew that she was probably waiting for you to, but you never did. you basically tossed her aside like she had never meant anything to you at all. and you had the audacity to show up tonight after that.

the thought of excusing yourself back to the hotel room with a pitiful excuse about not feeling very well and just skipping the party crossed your mind, but you knew that she would always remember if you didn’t go. when you had an event or party for someone that you didn’t want to attend, your mom always said it might slip their mind that you were there, but they would never forget if you weren’t. and you’ve carried that through life. you almost wish you could forget that so you could, in good conscience, wallow in self-pity in your king-sized hotel bed.

you don’t. of course you don’t. you’re at the wnba draft, invited by the number one pick. how could you miss it?

not only that, but the number one pick in question is paige. not paige bueckers, pb5, the best player on uconn–just paige. not the girl the whole internet was thirsting over, who led the nation in assists to turnovers, the 2025 national champion. it was the girl who, at just nine years old, would trash-talk your dad and grandpa during board games or corn-hole like she could do anything to back it up. the one who would play stupid pranks on you with your brother in the middle of the night to cheer you up after having a bad day. the one who used to come to your volleyball tournaments, despite how long they would get, and cheer the loudest for you no matter how many sets she had watched–attempting to argue with the officials like her word would do any good (like she knew anything about the sport beyond the basics, let’s be real) and almost running on the court every time you did something well.

you owed her the decency to show your support for her, you knew that, no matter the current circumstances of your relationship.

though, you still had to wonder if just a congratulatory text would have sufficed to prevent any possible awkwardness of your presence. you just wish your brother would have said if she asked if you were coming in a hopeful or dreadful tone. it definitely would shape your mood if you knew, and maybe that’s why he didn’t tell you. this night is supposed to celebrate her and her accomplishments–all the adversity she went worked so hard through to get to the place she is now.

the room where the party was felt like a club. there was an open bar in the back and a dj booth in the front playing a mix of requests and paige’s favorite songs. the music was pumping so loud you could feel the floor vibrating beneath you and you wondered if your heart was even beating on its own. which, maybe it wasn’t.

you had been stealthily managing to slip away from paige anytime you two got even close to interacting. you felt guilty about it because you know you should say something to her, to show your support with more than just your silent presence. but you stayed lost in the crowd nursing your cup of whatever your brother had snagged you from the bar. you couldn’t bring yourself to drink the way you thought you would from the sickening nervousness.

still, you had been watching her as she celebrated, her huge grin lit up the room and brought a smile onto everyone’s face. she moved with the confidence you’d expect from the girl who had one of her biggest dreams come true. rightfully so, she was completely wasted. you were surprised she could even hold her eyes open, let alone stand up straight. she deserved it, though. she deserved everything she wanted in life and more.

at some point, you excused yourself to use the bathroom.

when you pushed open the door, you almost jumped out of your skin at the sight in front of you. you realized you hadn’t seen paige in a few minutes, but you didn’t really think much of it. so when your eyes landed on her, standing at the sink washing her hands, you thought your heart stopped. you let the door close behind you, but continued standing there like an idiot, completely forgetting what you even came into the bathroom for.

she looked into the mirror at the sound of the door opening, but she didn’t look as startled as you were. in fact, she smirked and rolled her eyes. you couldn’t tell if it was out of annoyance or surprise, though, and you didn’t know which one you wanted it to be. of course, you didn’t want her to be annoyed with you, but hopefully then she would ignore you and you could avoid a hard conversation.

your prayers weren’t answered when she turned around to lean against the sink, looking you up and down like she couldn’t make up her mind on how to feel.

you broke the silence, deciding to just rip the bandaid off. “congratulations, paige. i’m so, um, proud of you. number one pick is huge,” you say awkwardly.

“you came,” she stated, ignoring you.

you glanced at your feet sheepishly, then walked toward her slowly until you were about an arm’s length away to give her some space.

“well, yeah. why wouldn’t i?” you ask trying to make it sound like she said something stupid, but your voice betrayed you. your tone didn’t hold the confidence it would previously be dripping with before, when you knew you were in control of the situation. this time, you weren’t. she was, and she knew it.

she laughs bitterly, shaking her head and looking down. you get a sudden surge of confidence so you take a step toward her. she looks up, biting her lip when she notices that the way she was leaning meant you were a little taller than her.

“seriously, i’m proud of you,” you mumbled. you traced your pointer finger over the bill of her hat, then boldly grab it, take it off her head, and place it back on backwards. she held her breath, knowing the implications of you flipping her hat. she knew that she wanted to lean forward and kiss you just like she did a year ago, but she also wanted to scream at you–to tell you how much it had hurt when you left like she was nothing but your little brother’s friend. like it didn’t happen.

“you have a funny way of showing it.”

it definitely took you off guard. your breath caught in your throat at her words, trying to collect any ounce of confidence that had been drained out of you in that very moment. you had spent so much time worrying about this happening, yet it was like all the scenarios you had considered were gone and your mind was blank.

you knew what she meant, and she knew you knew, but nonetheless, you made a weak attempt to play dumb. “um, w-what do you mean?”

“you’re avoiding me,” she deadpanned. her expression was completely unamused, like she was tired of this–of you. and you wouldn’t blame her if she was, because you had been running her in circles for years, just assuming she had the stamina to keep up. that she would never want to rest. you couldn’t decide if you were glad that she was at that point or not. you didn’t want to be done with her, but at least it meant you wouldn’t risk tarnishing a relationship that holds itself up just the way it is.

“no, i’m not,” you lie. you try to sound convincing, but it doesn’t quite land. you and her both know that you are, that you would rather be anywhere than standing there having this conversation. you shook your head, “this is your big night. don’t let something so small ruin it.”

she raised her eyebrows, looking at her shoes in disbelief, and she couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice, “ouch.”

you tilt your head sadly, biting the inside of your cheek like it’s a punishment for saying the wrong thing. you didn’t mean it that way–like she meant nothing to you and it was something stupid that just happened. you had meant that in comparison to everything in her life, you were something small.

“i’m sorry. i just meant–” you rush to say, but she interrupts you.

“nah, i get it.” she nodded. you assumed she would walk away and leave you here to regret your choice of words, but she didn’t. she stayed right where she was sitting, just didn’t make eye contact with you. “no hard feelings.”

you shift awkwardly, not really knowing what to say and feeling terrible about yourself. you had a few options that would definitely dig you into a bigger hole, and that was absolutely the last thing you wanted to do right now. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

she finally looked up at you. your heart sank in your chest when you could see that her eyes were glassy from tears threatening to fall. hopefully they didn’t so her gorgeous makeup wouldn’t get ruined.

“paige,” you said gently, hesitantly reaching to place your hand on her arm. you had half a mind to place it on her face or maybe even her neck, but you decided that would probably be too much given the awkward situation you had put yourself in.

she didn’t pull away, but she didn’t lean into your touch either like she had before. “it’s fine, seriously. at least i know where we stand now.”

her words stung, but you deserved it, even if it wasn’t true. even if she was just assuming things that were far from the truth.

“you don’t know,” your voice was no louder than a whisper. if she wasn’t staring at you, she probably wouldn’t have heard you.

“oh yeah?” she asked. something about the tone of her voice was suggestive and flirtatious, or maybe you were imagining things. maybe you were hoping it was so bad that you made it up in your head, which you very well could’ve. it could’ve been the alcohol messing with you–though you don’t think you’ve had enough to warrant that.

her tongue darted out to lick her lips in anticipation, but she didn’t look convinced.

“yes,” you say, your voice breathy. you think about continuing but you didn’t know what to say. you didn’t know where to start.

“really?” she asked, like you were joking. you bit your bottom lip hard, suddenly feeling a little dejected standing next to her. maybe it was the alcohol giving her confidence, but you were shocked when she leaned in so your noses were brushing together. your lips parted, breathing labored as you waited for her to make a move, but things were never easy between the two of you. “what don't i know? i know that we haven’t spoken since we literally fucked at your grandparents’ house while your entire family was home, so i’m not sure what exactly i don’t know.”

you flinch a little at her words. “i know, i’m sorry,” you say quietly. “i thought it would be easier.”

she scoffed, but didn’t pull away. you expected her to have a snarky remark, but she didn’t say anything.

“you’re not just some hookup to me, paige. i just didn’t know what to do. you’re elijah’s paige, not mine,” you add honestly.

“do you want me to be your paige?”

you pause for a moment. you knew the answer, but saying it would change everything. instead, you close the gap between you two and gently press your lips together in a kiss as an answer instead. you figured she wouldn’t kiss you back or would maybe push you away, but she does like she had been waiting for it. it’s soft, slow, and full of the desire that had been building up for the last year.

without disconnecting your lips, you adjusted your position so you were standing in front of her instead of off to the side and placed your hands on either side of her face. she grabs your hips to pull you closer, her thigh unintentionally slotting between your legs. you can feel the heat rush between your legs at the action, but you use all your restraint to not buck your hips.

you couldn’t believe that this is how the night was playing out. you figured that she would either scream at you or blatantly ignore you, not make out with you against a bathroom sink like you hadn’t been ghosting each other for almost a year. you’re glad she is though, of course.

it felt right–like this is exactly where you are supposed to be, where she is supposed to be. the burning feelings between you two were poured into the kiss, making it even more passionate than it was before like a silent declaration. though, the slowness of it quickly turned into something fast, fiery, and impatient. the sounds coming from you two were sloppy and obscene, yet they were successful in turning you on.

“paige,” you practically moan into her mouth. it was definitely an accident, you were intending for it to be more stern and serious. like you meant it. which you did–kind of. “we should stop.”

“no,” she whined, “please.”

“people will wonder where you are,” you laugh.

“fuck, i don’t care,” she murmured. “let them wonder.”

despite her words, you pulled away reluctantly. she took a few moments before she opened her eyes, though they were hooded and still locked on your lips. you moved a hand to her neck, using your thumb to tilt her chin up to look at you.

and fuck, the sight was enough for you to regret pulling away. the way she looked at you almost innocently, like she was yours and yours only. it made you want to push her back into one of the stalls and rip all of her clothes off like this wasn’t a public bathroom.

“someone will see us,” you say. she knew that you were right, that she couldn’t just ditch her own party like that.

“i’ve waited so long for you to fuck me again,” she said boldly, but her tone was still a little whiny. “please, don’t make me wait anymore.”

you stare at her for a moment to genuinely weigh your options. it was kind of late and most of the people here were probably drunk off their ass, so would they really notice either of your absences? maybe they would for paige, but definitely not for you.

“fuck it,” you shrug, grabbing her shirt and pulling her back into a random stall with you. when the door closed behind her, you fumbled clumsily with the lock for a second. something so easy suddenly feeling impossible because of your impatience. one of her hands flew to grip the top of the stall and the other tangled in your hair.

after finally managing to lock it, you wasted absolutely no time before you were unbuttoning her pants and shoving your hand in her underwear. your middle and ring finger circled her entrance, not even wanting to tease her right now.

“you’re so wet already,” you smile, pushing your fingers inside of her. she gasped at the sudden intrusion, but didn’t fight it. “just for me, right?"

she squirmed from the pleasure, lightly clenching around your fingers. “yes, shit, for you. i’m yours.”

she tilted her head back slightly with a loud moan when your fingers curled just the right way inside of her, hitting her spot effortlessly. she swears her knees almost buckled beneath her, but somehow manages to stay upright. your hand instinctively flies to cover her mouth, not wanting someone to hear something and interrupt.

“quiet, paige,” you coo, leaning forward to get closer to her ear. it was difficult because of the slight height difference, but you did your best. “wouldn’t want someone to hear, would you? then we’ll have to stop.”

she shakes her head in agreement, whimpering against your hand. her head falls forward so your foreheads were pressed together. you speed up your pace, using your thumb to circle her clit.

“oh my god,” she whispers, following it with a moan. her hips buck against your hand in untimed moments like she had no control over them. “fuck, no one could fuck me as good as you.”

her praise was going straight between your legs, probably soaking your underwear completely through with desire. when she clenched around your fingers, you quickly pulled them out. an immediate whine at the sudden emptiness left her lips, her hips snapping forward hard from the loss of contact. a mischievous, amused smile rose to your lips at the action, but she didn’t seem to find it as entertaining.

“wait,” she whined. “no, don’t stop. i want to come so bad, please.”

“i don’t know,” your voice trailed off. she opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, the sound of the bathroom door opening made it snap shut. her hand dropped from the top of the stall to be less suspicious.

“paige, are you in here?” the sound of azzi’s voice made paige widen her eyes, knowing that you were right–someone would notice she was gone.

she closed her eyes tight for a second, debating on what to do. “yeah.”

“okay, i just wanted to make sure you were okay,” azzi replied. “no one has seen you in a while.”

“i’ll be out in a second.”

with that, the sound of the door closing had paige sighing in relief. you bit your lip to try to contain your laugh, but she just glared at you and used one hand to lightly shove your shoulder.

“it’s not funny,” she tried to deadpan, but a smile rose to her lips too. there was a slight glint in her eyes when she felt your fingers brush against her stomach. you knew she assumed you were going to touch her again, but instead, you buttoned her pants back up. her lips parted in shock, clearly expecting to get what she wants.

“we better get back out there.”

after reluctantly doing what you say and returning back to the party, you tried to go back to what you were doing before, standing in the corner away from her, but she doesn’t let it happen. she immediately grabs your arm when you go to walk away to yank you toward her again.

the night drags on, paige’s impatience growing by the second. she was determined to make sure that the only way the night was going to end was with you in her bed or her in yours. not that you would argue, anyway, because you had the same plan.

it was obvious how desperate you both were–even more so, her– when the lights came on and the music shut off, and you found yourself being dragged into paige’s fancy hotel room.

she practically slammed your back against the door when it closed, just hard enough that a small oof left your lips, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“you’re such a fucking tease,” she said breathlessly, crashing your lips together in a heated kiss. “leaving me hanging like that.”

you smiled smugly against her lips at her attempt to gain control, trying to contain your laugh so she could live in her delusion. she fumbles with your dress, unzipping it and pulling it down your body so you’re only in your bra and underwear. then, she unbuttons her own shirt and throws it haphazardly behind her. her mouth connects to your neck, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses.

“paige,” you breathe out.

you can practically feel her smile against your skin, pleased with the sound. though as quickly as her reign of dominance began, you quickly put a stop to it. your hands gripped her waist for leverage to shove her away from you. her eyes widened with shock, but you quickly stepped forward to push her back against the bed like she had done to you almost a year ago.

“come on,” she whined, “you couldn’t let me have that one?”

you laughed, your fingers unbuttoning her pants and hooking around the waistband to pull them and her underwear down in one smooth motion. it was enough of an answer to tell her that you absolutely would not. maybe one day, but not today.

“it’s my night, shouldn’t i get what i want?” she tries to plead her case again, moving back to sit against the headboard with her legs bent and curled up in front of her.

“do you want to come?” you ask.

“well,” she starts like she’s going to argue, then realizes she can’t, “yeah…”

you crawl up the bed and grab her legs to part them. “so you are getting what you want.”

she grumbles something that you choose to ignore it to lie down on your stomach, your face settling between her legs. she breathes out shakily when your warm breath fans over her. instead of leaning forward to use your mouth, you reach your hand up and press a thumb firmly against her clit.

“just fuck me, damn,” she says with a bout of confidence stemming from her impatience. you tilt your head with raised eyebrows at her boldness. her eyes widened slightly when she realized that she had said something bratty that could change whether she actually gets what she wants.

“what was that?” you challenged, not moving your thumb but applying more pressure. she tried to move her hips against it, but you placed your other palm over her stomach and held her in place.

“nothing,” she mumbled. “i’m begging you to fuck me right now.”

“i don’t hear any begging,” you replied with furrowed eyebrows, faking confusion. you move your thumb in circles achingly slow, so slow it was practically still. she groans, but resists the urge to roll her eyes as her cheeks flush. “maybe if you ask nicely…”

“please?” she asks, her voice suddenly sounding vulnerable, but you didn’t give in.

“please what?”

“please touch me,” she says with an exasperated tone, clearly frustrated with how much you are making her wait and how long it is taking to just get to it. after the bathroom and the fact that you haven’t seen each other in so long she was sure her virginty grew back, she figured she would’ve at least had one orgasm by now.

“i am touching you,” you replied stubbornly, purposefully playing dumb to get her to spell it out. this time, she did throw her head back in annoyance, making you laugh. you considered pulling away as a punishment for doing so, but you decided to let it slide this time.

she groaned your name. “bruh, you’re so mean to me.” she sounded genuinely annoyed and she probably was by your antics. you knew she wasn’t upset, though, you could tell by how wet she was. against your better judgment for continuing this little game, you leaned forward to lap it up with your tongue. a gasp left her lips at the sudden contact.

“is this what you want?” you asked innocently against her.

“yes.” she grabbed your hair and shamelessly tried to push your face closer to her. you give in, relentlessly swirling your tongue through her folds and over her clit at a pace she definitely didn’t expect, but honestly, you were tired of waiting too.

you had waited almost a whole year to know what she tasted like, to hear her squirming beneath you and moaning like it was the only thing she knew how to do.

“fuck, yes, fuck, feels so good,” she moaned shamelessly loud. you were almost worried about others in the building hearing–almost. “please, don’t stop. i’ve waited for this for so long.”

the feeling was so intense from how sensitive her lack of orgasm earlier had left her, and she could feel herself starting to unravel already. she didn’t want it to stop yet, though, so she did her best to hold it. you try to push your middle finger inside her, but she pushes lightly against your forehead.

“no, no, don’t. i’m gonna come if you do that. i want you to fuck me a little longer,” she said quickly, trying to tell you as fast as possible before she started to come.

if you were expecting her to say anything, it definitely wasn’t that. her words went straight between your legs, so you used the finger you were going to use on her to circle your own clit for a little bit of friction. you moaned at the feeling, your lips vibrating on your clit.

despite her wanting to last a little longer, she lasts only about half a minute before she’s unraveling beneath you. her stomach flexes, causing her to jerk forward at the feeling with pinched eyes and parted lips. you slowed your pace only a little to work her through it.

when she finally starts to come down, her body twitches a few times before she leans back against the headboard again. her chest is heaving and you pull away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. you crawl up the bed and lean forward to press a peck against her lips which she barely returns. she smiles a little, letting you know she’s still conscious.

you both know you’ll have to talk about this, but that can wait until later.

#paige bueckers x reader #wlw smut #wcbb x reader #sub!paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic

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letthemkook · 3 months ago

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Vigil J.jk - Part 1

Pairing: Obnoxious Rich Boy Jungkook x Powerless Reader Genre: Dark Romance, Obsession, Angst, Forced Proximity Themes: Power Imbalance, Class Difference, Emotional Manipulation

Warnings: Yandere!Jungkook, Hesitant MC

Intro: He’s the heir. You’re the help.

You were taught to serve.

Jungkook was never taught limits.

Now he wants you,

and he doesn’t plan to ask twice.

Part 1: King’s Pawn Opening

The Jeon estate is as beautiful as it is terrifying.

Your mother has worked there since before you could walk — cleaning, cooking, tending to guests she’s never allowed to speak to unless spoken to first. And since you were about ten, you started helping her on weekends and summers.

That’s when you met him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Heir to the Jeon fortune. Golden boy of Seoul’s elite. Tall, stunning, filthy rich, and the single most infuriating person you’ve ever met.

Even as a child, he looked at you like you were something to command.

“You missed a spot,” he’d say, pointing at nothing just to watch you wipe the same section of floor twice.

“You walk too loud.”

“Don’t touch that. That’s mine.”

It didn’t matter that you were only a year younger. In his world, you were beneath him. A servant’s daughter. A fixture of his house. A thing he could control.

You hated it.

You hated him.

But you never said no.

Your mother made sure of that.

“Do what the young master says,” she whispered whenever you flinched at his voice. “Don’t make trouble. Don’t give them a reason.”

So you obeyed.

Every. Time.

Even when he stole your notebook and made you beg for it back. Even when he told his friends you were his little housemaid and laughed when they called you cute. Even when he made you sit outside his room and wait for him just so he could hand you a candy and say, good girl.

By the time you’re both eighteen, you’ve almost perfected tuning him out.

Almost.

Until he changes.

It starts with small things.

“You forgot to say good morning,” he says one day, standing in the kitchen in his silk robe and bare feet. “Don’t be rude.”

Then: “Why didn’t you smile when I came in? You only smile for my mom now?”

Then worse: “I want a hug.”

You stare at him. “What?”

“A hug,” he says, stepping closer. “You know, arms around me, warmth, that thing people do when they like each other.”

“You’re insane.”

He shrugs. “You’re obligated.”

Your voice wavers. “I’m not.”

He smiles — slow, amused, dangerous.

“No? So you don’t care what happens to your mom’s job?”

You freeze.

His grin widens like he loves watching you fall silent.

“Come here,” he says, voice dipped in honey. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

You hate him.

But your feet still move.

And when his arms slide around you — warm, possessive, firm — he sighs like he’s finally getting something he’s waited years for.

“See?” he murmurs into your hair. “You’re so good at doing what you’re told.”

You stay stiff.

He pulls back, but not far. His hands rest on your waist now, too familiar, too much.

“Next time,” he says, eyes dropping to your mouth, “you’ll kiss me good morning too.”

You jerk back. “You can’t—!”

“I can,” he interrupts calmly. “And I will.”

Then he steps past you like nothing happened, calling over his shoulder:

“See you tomorrow, baby.”

And the worst part?

You will.

Because you can’t say no.

Not to Jungkook.

Not in this house.

——-

Jungkook is insatiable.

It’s like the moment he realized he wanted you, he stopped pretending it was anything less than obsession.

Now, every time you step foot in the Jeon estate, you brace yourself.

Because it’s never just “can you grab that” or “clean this up” anymore.

Now it’s: “Come sit with me while I finish my homework.” “Put your head here—on my shoulder. No, I said here.” “I want a kiss. Just one. Hurry up, I’m busy.”

It’s always phrased like a joke.

But the threat is never far behind.

Like the time he dragged you into the home theater room after his parents left for a business gala.

You were just there to drop off laundry, but he was sprawled across the velvet seats, arms out like a prince waiting to be adored.

“Stay,” he said without looking up. “Movie night.”

“I’m not allowed to—”

He cut you off with a lazy smile. “What are you gonna do, say no? Want me to go tell my mom your mom’s been slacking?”

Your hands clenched at your sides.

He patted the seat next to him.

You sat.

He draped a blanket over your legs. Ordered your favorite snacks like he hadn’t memorized them years ago. Let you pick the movie. Rested his hand on your thigh halfway through like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You didn’t move it.

Couldn’t.

Your chest was tight with so many feelings you couldn’t name: fear, fury, and something awful that tasted like want.

Now it’s a routine.

He texts you whenever he wants you. Calls you “baby” or “puppy” like you’re something docile. Something owned.

Today, it’s worse.

You’re wiping down the dining room table when he walks in with bedhead and a smug smirk.

“I didn’t get my kiss this morning.”

You pause, eyes on the glass in your hand.

He steps closer.

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

Your jaw tightens. “There are other people here.”

“So?”

Your heart races.

He corners you slowly, hands sliding onto your hips like he’s done it a thousand times. His breath brushes your cheek. You feel your pulse jump and you hate that he feels it too.

“C’mon,” he whispers. “Just one. Be good.”

And the worst part?

You are.

You tip your chin up, cheeks burning, and press the quickest kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He hums, satisfied.

But then his hand catches your jaw.

“Mm-mm. That’s not what I asked for.”

You look up — breath caught.

He leans in, pressing a slow, real kiss to your lips. Deeper than it should be. Longer than it needs to be.

When he pulls back, your head is spinning.

“That’s better,” he whispers, thumb brushing your lip. “You’re learning.”

You step back like you’ve been burned.

He just laughs and walks away like he didn’t just take another piece of you with him.

He gets jealous over the dumbest things.

You don’t even realize it at first — you just mention offhand that the new intern in the kitchen, Minjae, helped you carry in groceries this morning. He’s nineteen, like you. Polite. Smiles a lot.

And you say it without thinking.

Without fear.

You’re getting too comfortable.

Because later that day, when you go upstairs to organize the study like your mom asked, Jungkook is already there. Sitting behind the desk like it’s a throne, legs spread, fingers tapping slowly against his knee.

He doesn’t say anything.

Not at first.

He just watches you.

And when you finally break the silence with a small, “Did you need something?”, he leans back in the chair and says flatly:

“You like him?”

You blink. “Who?”

He tilts his head. “Minjae.”

You freeze.

He smiles — cold.

“So you do.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you smiled when you said his name earlier. You never smile like that when you talk about me.”

You exhale, trying to keep calm. “Jungkook, I—”

He stands.

Walks toward you slowly, like a lion circling prey. You instinctively step back until your spine hits the bookshelf.

“You’re not allowed to act like you’re mine,” he says, voice low, “and then make me feel like I’m not yours.”

“I never—”

He cuts you off by slamming a hand next to your head on the shelf, leaning in close.

“You really think it’s cute? Making me jealous? Making me wonder what you’d do if someone else told you to kiss them?”

“I didn’t—”

“Apologize.”

You stare up at him, heart pounding, anger and fear tangled in your throat.

“For what?”

“For making me feel like I wasn’t enough.”

That stings.

Because he always makes you feel like you’re the one who doesn’t measure up. But now he’s turned the table. Like youowe him something.

You can’t win.

So you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He leans in closer. “Say it like you mean it.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

“For what?”

“For… making you jealous.”

He smiles now — a dark, satisfied kind of smile.

“Good girl.”

Then his hand wraps around your jaw, not rough, but firm, and he kisses you again — hard this time, claiming. Frustrated. Not because he wants to comfort himself, but because he wants to remind you who you belong to.

When he pulls back, his voice is soft.

“Next time you so much as smile at another guy, I’ll make sure you regret it. Got it?”

You nod, lips tingling, stomach twisting.

And he kisses your forehead like you’re something delicate — a precious object in a glass case that only he gets to touch.

“Don’t make me jealous again, baby. I don’t handle it well.”

You ignore his texts.

Just for one morning. One blissfully quiet, carefully calculated morning. No "Good morning, baby." No showing up when he calls you to “help” in his room. No kissing his cheek in greeting like a trained pet.

You stay with your mom in the kitchen instead, head down, helping prep trays for the garden luncheon his mother’s hosting.

You laugh at something Minjae says.

You smile when he compliments the way you arrange the pastries.

And for a few hours, you feel normal. Like a regular girl working a regular job in a house that doesn’t own you.

But the high doesn’t last.

Because Jungkook notices.

Of course he notices.

He walks into the garden mid-luncheon, hands in his pockets, sunglasses perched on his head like a crown, expression unreadable — except for the dangerous stillness in his eyes when he sees you standing beside Minjae.

You freeze.

He doesn’t say a word.

Just turns around and walks back into the house.

You feel it like a command.

And sure enough — ten minutes later, one of the butlers approaches you.

“You’re needed upstairs,” he says, not meeting your eyes. “Young Master Jeon requested you.”

Your blood runs cold.

You follow the hall to Jungkook’s room, heart hammering.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed when you walk in, a water bottle in his hand, jaw clenched like he’s waiting for an excuse.

“Hey,” you say carefully.

He doesn’t respond.

You try again. “You wanted me?”

He stands slowly. Walks toward you.

“Where the hell were you all morning?”

“I was helping—”

“With Minjae?” he snaps. “Laughing? Smiling like he earned it? Ignoring me like I don’t own you?”

Your voice shakes. “You don’t own me.”

His laugh is bitter. Cold.

“You think you get to say that? After everything I’ve given you?” He steps closer, his voice low and furious. “You think you can just ignore me?”

“I wasn’t—”

“Take your hoodie off.”

You blink. “What?”

“My hoodie. You’re wearing it. Take it off.”

You hesitate. He glares.

You pull it off slowly, standing in your tank top beneath it, exposed in more ways than one.

He tosses the water bottle aside and grips your waist, backing you up until your knees hit the bed.

“You’re going to apologize,” he says.

You shake your head. “I already did yesterday—”

“No. I want you to show me you’re sorry.”

And before you can react, he opens the door — wide — revealing Minjae standing at the end of the hallway with a tray in hand.

Jungkook calls over your shoulder:

“Come back later. She’s busy.”

Then slams the door.

You stare at him in horror.

“You—!”

“I warned you,” he says calmly. “Don’t make me jealous. Don’t ignore me.”

“You humiliated me.”

He shrugs. “Now we’re even.”

You feel rage build in your chest, humiliation and helplessness mixing like poison in your throat.

But he just leans in, brushing his lips over your temple.

“You don’t get to pretend I don’t exist, sweetheart. Not anymore.”

And when he kisses you, it’s punishing.

A punishment he expects you to accept.

Because he always gets what he wants.

And what he wants — is you.

#yandere #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts imagines #bts #love #dark romance #yandere jungkook #servant

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infinityinakiss · 1 month ago

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Do you have top 3 pazzi pics?

edit: so i'm blind and can't read apparently. just pretend you asked for fics cause i don't have the heart to delete this and i'll make another post with my pics. this is so embarrassing for me.

it'd be easier to pick a favorite child, man. i'm gonna spotlight a couple (a ton) of authors with my favorite fics by them, but just know i am absolutely in love with anything they write. this post is about to be so long.

@imaginespazzi - anything nivi writes is a godsend. golden hour broke me a thousand different ways, as i'm sure it did many other people, but if you like a fluffy fic, i reread their here's to eternity series whenever i wanna smile at my screen like an idiot.

@luvergirl-535 - actually so good and so funny, her that's so true series is like the perfect mixture of comedy and angst. she's such a wholehearted author, i love her writing so much.

@loeysoi - everything she writes is so beautiful. she says her favorite fic that she's written is thinking of you (while i'm up here), but i've got such a soft spot for weren't we the salt in the sea. lyra, if you see this, your writing is so lovely and if you'd like to update salt in the sea, i wouldn't be opposed.

@azzibuckets - trying to pick one thing that cessa's written is giving me anxiety, so just read all of it. also, follow her and put her notifs on, she's so funny. literally such a beautiful person to follow online.

@bucketgetter535 - wanna feel like you're 15 again and it is all so bright and fireflies aren't going extinct, but also everything is insanely complicated and nobody will tell you anything? read their fic this is not a cry for help (but it might be). i personally love writing that reads like thoughts, that doesn't try to be anything less than it is, and this fic is it. (also there is a little soft spot in my heart for i don't even like her.)

@theseh00perscanh00p - genuinely one of my favorite authors on here, reading their writing is like being given a tight hug (most of the time at least, this new series has been tearing my heart out.) par for the heart is so sweet, not very angsty, and i just love paige and azzi's character voice in it.

@raevpng - rae, i love your writing so fucking much, i basically live in your anons because you're so good and i feel the need to constantly glaze you. i am actually so obsessed with their new series only you, go read it now if you know what's good for you. their one shots are so incredible, bags is a personal favorite of mine.

@azzibueckers5 - their series i wanna know peace again (wanna sing a different song) is one of my top rereads, it's truly so well written and emotional and just everything that i don't think i can fully articulate how much i love it without kissing them on the cheeks like an italian grandma.

@sowerpatch - i've been so hooked on their series terms of play, the tension and the dynamic is so good and so addictive. paige in this fic has balls the size of australia and it always makes my jaw drop.

so yeah. there's my very short and sweet top 3 pazzi fics. totally didn't go overboard.

psa: i love that here it's normal to send an anon so you can really show the authors how much you appreciate em. but it has broken my heart to see people abuse the very thing i love about the fandom to make authors feel unsafe. this is your daily reminder that fic authors are people too and they have their own lives besides writing. try not to hound them too much about when they're gonna update, and always give them grace. they are creating beautiful art for free because they love to. don't ruin that for them.

and if you threaten authors and run them off the internet because they fear for their safety, you are the actual scum of the earth.

#that last bit is important okay be kind to your favorite authors #maybe ask how are you every now and again #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #pazzi #pazzi fics

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wosospacegirl · 3 months ago

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Little less hidden - Kika Nazareth

Summary: Little moments, quiet glances, and blurry Instagram stories—snippets of how Y/N and Kika slowly, accidentally, and tenderly became public.

Word count: 1.3k

This is part of my 1k comemoration blurb! <3

Masterlist

- The Media's Reaction:

To the media, nothing about Y/n and Kika's relationship stood out. The press loved to talk about how close the two were, but it was always framed in a strictly professional context.

Y/n was just so serious.

Whenever her relationship with Kika came up, she'd don her usual professional mask, her expression stiff, her tone even more so.

“The team is doing everything it can to support Kika during this time,” she would say, her face a perfect picture of composure.

No one suspected anything more was going on.

To them, Y/n was the definition of professional. A player who didn’t smile for the cameras, who had no time for distractions.

She’d support Kika like she supported her teammates: with commitment, discipline, and a focus on performance.

But what the media didn’t see? The way Y/n carefully wrapped ice around Kika’s leg after a tough physio session or how she always made sure Kika had someone to sit with during a game, since she wasn’t allow to play yet.

- The Fans' Reaction:

The fans, on the other hand, had a completely different story.

They noticed everything.

The tiniest shift in Y/n’s demeanor, a hint of a smile when Kika came near, a moment of laughter they hadn’t heard before.

And they were quick to catch on.

Y/n, who never showed emotion, was suddenly showing a softer side around Kika. Fans knew there had to be something more going on.

It all started when Y/n would show up to training a little earlier than usual.

Not for the drills, but for the hope that she would catch Kika trying to sneak a breakfast that was nothing short of chaotic. She knew it was bad for Kika, but it was endearing all the same.

And then there were the gym sessions–where Y/n would complain endlessly about the songs Kika loved, pretending she hated them, but carefully logging every song title on her Spotify.

Then came the pitch.

When Kika wasn’t playing due to her injury, Y/n gave her all—not just for the win, but to somehow carry Kika’s presence on the field, feeling like she was playing for her.

The first moment it became undeniable?

When Y/n hugged Kika after winning the Champions League semi-final. Kika, tears in her eyes, her face buried in Y/n's shoulder, her smile pure and radiant.

And Y/n? She couldn’t help but smile too.

It was all over Twitter.

Fans flooded the comments with “What’s going on?” “Are they together?” and “Look at the way they look at each other!”

- The Quiet Realization:

After that moment, things only seemed to get more complicated for Y/n.

She couldn’t deny it anymore. She could feel it–the shift in their relationship.

What had started as support for a teammate, a friend, was turning into something more, something deeper.

She didn't know exactly when it happened, but she was starting to fall for Kika.

Y/n’s default instinct was to compartmentalize, to suppress her feelings, but with every glance shared with Kika, it became harder.

She kept it under wraps, of course–until one day, she couldn’t.

- Kika’s Bold Move:

Kika, on the other hand, wasn’t as cautious.

She wanted to share their love with the world, to let it be known. But she understood Y/n’s hesitation.

So, she respected the boundaries. No holding hands in public. No public displays of affection. Their relationship was strictly professional in the eyes of the world.

Still, Kika couldn’t help but want to share a cheeky post–a playful picture of the two of them.

But Y/n wasn’t having it. She wasn’t ready to go public, not yet. “It’s too soon,” she said. “We’re not there yet.”

And so, Kika kept quiet.

But their quiet little moments were telling in their own way. Kika would sneak her hand into the frame of a picture Y/n was taking, and Y/n would subtly hide Kika’s presence in her own minimalist shots.

- The Breakthrough:

Until one day, everything changed.

Kika and Y/n were lying together in the hotel room, tired but content. They had just come back from a grueling match.

Kika had her phone in hand, Y/n next to her. They took a mirror selfie, faces barely visible–Y/n’s face hidden behind the phone and Kika’s barely visible in the reflection. It wasn’t much, just a quiet moment captured.

Y/n didn’t think twice. She posted it on her Instagram stories. No words. No emojis. No hearts. Just the photo.

It was a subtle admission. The fans went wild.

They knew what it meant, even if the rest of the world didn’t. It was a quiet declaration of their relationship, but it was a declaration nonetheless.

- What Comes Next

The media may not have known the full truth, but the fans?

They had seen enough to know that something was up.

And though Kika and Y/n hadn’t officially told the world, they knew they were in it together. And in time, the rest of the world would catch up.

- Reactions

The morning after Y/n’s post, she woke up to chaos.

Her phone buzzed nonstop. Mentions, tags, screenshots, blurry zoom-ins, fan theories. The story had already expired from her Instagram, but that didn’t stop fans from dissecting every pixel.

They would zoomed in to confirm the mole on Y/n’s wrist, matched the bedsheets to a photo Kika had once posted, and compiled it into a 3-minute TikTok essay titled “Y/n and Kika: Soft Launch Confirmed.”

Kika’s response? A smug little grin across the breakfast table as she scrolled through the discourse, occasionally reading fan tweets aloud just to watch Y/n roll her eyes.

“‘They are the softest soft launch in Woso history,’” Kika quoted, eyes dancing. “Oh wait, here’s another: ‘This is how I want to be loved–quietly, gently, in the corner of an Instagram story.’” She giggled. “Poetic, no?”

Y/n groaned, hiding her face in her hoodie. “I didn’t even tag you.”

“Didn’t need to. You posted us. That’s louder than any tag.”

The team noticed the shift too, of course.

For the first time, their teasing turned to quiet respect. Alexia, ever the observant captain, gave Y/n a look across the locker room–half proud, half knowing.

“You good?” she asked quietly one day.

Y/n didn’t say anything at first, just nodded. But her shoulders were more relaxed. Her face a little less guarded.

She was starting to let herself have this.

Kika, for all her patience, was now daring a little more.

Her hand would linger on Y/n’s back as they walked through the tunnel.

They would sit closer during team meetings. There were still no overt declarations, no big PDA, but the change was there, undeniable and steady.

Fans continued to speculate, but the tone had changed. They weren’t just shipping anymore, they were rooting for them.

And eventually, when the next season rolled in and Barça’s official photographer posted a candid of Y/n with her hand in Kika’s—unposed, natural, unmistakably theirs–it didn’t come as a surprise.

No captions were needed. No official statement. It was just them, as they always had been, now just a little less hidden.

They didn’t rush anything. Slowly and naturally, they let the world see more.

A blurry selfie in Kika’s story, with a barely visible smile pressed against her cheek.

Y/n in the background of a TikTok, wearing Kika’s hoodie.

A post-match hug that lingered a second longer than usual, and this time, Y/n didn’t look around first to check who was watching.

By the time they soft-launched again—this time with a post from Kika, a photo of them holding hands around Barcelona, it didn’t feel like news. It just felt like the world catching up to something that had been quietly blooming all along.

Y/n still wasn’t one for grand gestures, but she didn't flinch when fans recognized them at cafés, or when someone asked for a picture and Kika took her hand before posing.

She had Kika. And that, quietly, loudly, publicly or privately, was more than enough.

a/n: Hope you guys liked it <3

#woso x reader #woso fanfic #kika nazareth x yn #kika nazareth x reader #kika nazareth #wlw writing #wlw fanfic

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synthetickitsune · 29 days ago

Note

wonwoo's enlisting! which means hoshi is next (and woozi too)!!

can you write smthg about hoshi's s/o being sad when they announces the date for his military service at first but then comes around after seeing how excited hoshi is to serve? ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ

Hoshi (SVT) | Enlistment fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

“Yeah, there will be only one set of dishes to wash, less clothes to hang up,” you sigh happily while you kick off your shoes and put your keys back into the little dish on the shelf by the door.

“Ah, and there’s also that new place I wanted to check out,” you keep listing whatever comes to mind.

It’s not like your boyfriend never takes you places that only you’d like, but you think it makes more sense to spend your date nights doing something you both enjoy. So of course the big selling point of his enlistment that he presented to you was that you’d be able to take yourself out for the dates without thinking about his preferences. He’ll pay for you, so you can feel like he’s still there, or so he said.

“Exactly! See, it won’t be that bad,” Soonyoung grins at you. It’s infectious.

To be honest, you still have your doubts. Of course it’s not a big deal, it’s normal, inevitable. He won’t be gone forever, you’ll keep in touch. You suppose you’re just afraid of missing him.

Until now you could always call him and he'd pick up. There was a chance at least, and that alone was enough for you. You seldom called him like that. It really was reassuring enough that he was there, somewhere, like a star in the sky.

You realize it's not that dramatic. But sometimes emotions get the better of you.

“Hey,” Soonyoung comes to stand in front of you, “You’re spacing out again."

"Sorry," you shake your head.

“Thinking about more exciting things to come?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You push him away with a roll of your eyes. “You know it’ll be sweeter when we see each other after some time. It’ll be like we’re just dating again.”

“I guess,” you smile, “What if I got wiser with time and won’t accept it when you confess this time?”

“Oh please,” he smirks, crowding into your personal space just to lean down and whisper into your ear, “You adore me.”

You do. You really do. And maybe that’s why it’s so easy to shake your head at your dramatic thoughts. He’s excited to go and it’s rubbing off on you. You can’t wait for the stories he’ll tell you, can’t wait for him to exaggerate his heroic actions and bravery. Can’t wait to see if there will be any military horanghae. You really hope not but you also believe it might be inevitable. If nowhere else, then whenever you see him during his vacation days.

“I do,” you sigh, reaching up to run your hand through his hair, “I think nobody is as excited about the enlistment as your hair. It deserves to catch some break finally.”

“I don’t know about that,” he considers seriously, picking at a few strands. You wonder what’s giving them the strength not to break immediately upon contact. “I still haven’t tried tiger print hair.”

“You know the date won’t come closer just because you get bald, right?” you sigh, fondly ruffling his hair. Despite how brittle it looks, it stays intact.

“Worth a try,” he smiles, pulling you with him to get snacks in the kitchen, “You’ll miss me though, right?”

You hum and pretend to think about it for a bit.

“Will you, though? How do I know you won’t forget me while making friends?” you tease.

“Never,” he gasps, “I’ll think about you day and night and do my best to make you proud.”

“Then I’ll miss you and do my best for you too,” you finally agree, chuckling when he comes back close to hug.

“We’re meant to be,” he kisses your cheek.

There’s a switch in his energy, sudden but obvious to your trained senses. You hug him back resting your head against his shoulder.

“But you know I’ll be most excited to see you whenever I can, right?” He rubs his hands over your back, “It really will be like we’re reliving our dating days. I’ll pretend I’m sneaking off to see you, okay?”

“Does our relationship really need more spice?” you joke, “Are you bored of me already?”

“Maybe you’ll get tired of waiting for me. I’m doing this for you,” he grumbles.

“I’ll never get tired of you,” you reassure him, “But sure, if you want to act out dramatic skits, then that’s one more reason to look forward to you being away.”

“See? I told you you’ll come around,” he grins before kissing you with a smile.

Something tells you it really won’t be that bad.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen imagines #hoshi x reader #svthub #hoshi scenarios #seventeen fluff #hoshi fluff #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios #svt reactions #svt fluff #drabble #requested

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nymph-ette111 · 10 months ago

Note

What if Jeff, EJ, Toby, Masky, Hoodie, and Ben (separately) found Y/N silently crying? Would they help or try to calm down Y/N?

That's it, sorry if I chose too many creepypastas ❤

I hope you have a great day/night!!

(I love your writing style aaaaah! Luv ya >< )

Sorry if I sounded cringe ;)

WARNINGS; JEFF BEING AN ASSHOLE LIKE USUAL/TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, MENTIONS OF A DECAPITATED BODY

AUTHOR'S NOTE; NO ONE HERE IS CRINGE!! and I love you too <3 was giggling and kicking my feet writing masky and hoodie's part LOL

TOBY;

-the first thought that comes to his mind is that somebody caused this.

-may be a bit rough when asking what's wrong, because like I mentioned before, he just jumps into the conclusion that it's someone else's fault.

-Toby is a little... impulsive when it comes to solving his problems, always going the aggressive route.

-basically what I'm trying to say is that he is willing to chop up someone's body if they did something bad enough to make you cry.

-he will pry the information out of you, whether you want to or not.

-he doesn't realize that this makes things worse for you :( let's be realistic, imagine crying to your boyfriend because someone bothered you just for him to leave and come back covered in blood holding the head from said person's decapitated body.

-he'll even try to hug you, not caring if he is covered head to toe in blood, not caring if the smell was overwhelming your senses. he'll get upset if you refuse his "affection" and "comfort". sometimes Toby's thinking is... hard to understand.

-99% chance you're going to throw up from the sight alone. what I'm trying to say here is Toby's attempt at making you feel better is nowhere near what it's supposed to be.

-but if that wasn't the case and your crying was because of something else like an insecurity, just the overall stress of your day, basically anything that doesn't involve another person he'd be less aggressive.

-wouldn't really know what to say so he'd just go for physical affection and hope that it works.

-now this part depends on you since not everyone likes physical touch when upset. if you don't mind it then he's going to hold you until you feel better. if you don't he'd respect your wishes but he won't leave, even if you ask him to.

-would kiss away your tears one hundred percent.

-i'd give him about... 7/10 less if he brings back a corpse with him but the physical affection is nice :)

JEFFREY:

-love how your relationship is hanging on by a thread.

-it's surviving off of hopes and prayers bro.

-Jeff believes that he should be the only one who can make you upset in any way shape or form. I'd say he doesn't take the idea of someone else making you feel bad very lightly.

-not even in a "oh, someone made my partner upset! not on my watch!" he's just offended because it feels like someone took his place or something.

-yeah did I mention he's toxic as fuck.

-i honestly don't know how he'd react... contrary to popular belief I don't think he'd go out of his way to kill somebody because they made his partner upset like Toby would. in Toby's case it's out of pure love obsession and the need to please you. in Jeff's case he'd probably kill for his own benefit which I mentioned before, someone taking his place.

-fuck it he'd probably kill the person just to torment you, he enjoys that shit.

-however if it's your own feelings regardless of what it is, he'd pretend to not care.

-i think I somewhat implied it in my "stretch marks" post that he doesn't know how to handle his partner's emotions. insecurities or not, big chance he won't do anything, probably throw an insult or two just to make you feel pathetic.

-damn I don't think any fluff post with Jeff would work.

-how can this motherfucker even be nice.

-and if you're asking, no he would never break up with you. you boost his ego a little too much and he doesn't want to lose that.

-he doesn't want to admit it but he's attached to you to a certain degree.

-i'd give it... why are you even reading this it's an obvious 0/10

EYELESS JACK;

-im torn between making EJ the feral demon he is or making him more... human.

-i think I lean towards the more human side when writing for Jack but that might change in the future. expect all of my headcanons to change since I'm still trying to figure this out. even for his personality.

-i should make a poll for that... ANYWAYS

-regardless of the reason, he'd react pretty much the same way.

-he's so sweet and comforting it's actually insane :(

-he's naturally awkward but the voice, the way he weighs and genuinely considers his words before speaking, trying to find the best way to make you feel better can make anyone instantly fold I'm TELLING YOU.

-bro sounds smart and is smart just the way he talks to you is enough to make you move on from whatever had happened.

-intelligent men are so

-head scratches after he's done giving you his advice and point of view of the situation.

-my husband<3

-tries to get you out of your room after that, or just include you in whatever so you wouldn't think about it again. like offering to invite you to the infirmary, there's always an extra seat for you there :)

-i might be biased but 9/10

BEN;

-i've said this before and I'll say it again, does not know how to comfort people. especially ones he cares about.

-he just... stands at the doorway (or floats, whatever you like)

-if it was another person he'd laugh at them right away, but considering you're his partner he'd fight the urge for your sake.

-actually he might laugh a bit but if he notices that you're clearly serious about what upset you he'd drop it.

-would download a virus on the other person's devices.

-he thinks it's funny.

-he genuinely tries to make you feel better tho, just doesn't know how :(

-if you're insecure about something then he'd react similarly to my "stretch marks" post and try to convince you that whatever it is about you, it's beautiful.

-might come off as corny tho.

-either way... I'd give him a 5/10 maybe even 6/10 if bullying kids on roblox cheers you up.

MASKY;

-regardless of the reason, he'll ask what's wrong but secretly hopes you don't want to talk about it.

-he is a teen tiny bit awkward.

-kind of like Toby, he goes for physical affection and hopes it's enough to take your mind off of it somehow.

-but the hugs this man gives...

-might as well stay there forever.

-just imagine him holding you tight to his chest, one hand rubbing your back while the other plays with your hair. a cig hanging loosely from between his lips UGH

-can you tell I'm listening to lana del rey while writing this.

-again he might not offer much in terms of... actually saying something to comfort you but his hugs are enough and if they aren't then girl what the fuck is wrong with you.

-i need him.

-i give 8/10

HOODIE;

-another one who relies on the physical affection only because he's a selective mute.

-unless you know sign language.

-unlike masky, instead of a hug you're sitting on this man's lap.

-his mask up to the bridge of his nose, scruff facial hair grown from years of not taking proper care of himself rubbing against your flush cheeks, strong arms holding you tightly against him.

-i genuinely cannot continue writing this so I'm ending it here because another word of describing this man will have me tweaking out 9/10

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ddarker-dreams · 5 months ago

Text

Aegis.

Yan Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Yan Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, co-dependency, guilt-tripping, emotional manipulation and gaslighting (thanks Geto). Word count: 2.2k.

This is a yandere AU of the series Golden Girl. You don't have to read GG to understand this story, but it gives additional context.

-Index-

Unbelievable, you think, internally fuming. They’re unbelievable!

You ignore the voice calling your name and descend the mountainside’s decrepit staircase. Overgrown trees drape along the walkway, their wispy branches still from the lack of wind. The local wildlife has fled the vicinity, leaving an eerie silence in their wake, which is soon ruined by two pairs of footsteps approaching from behind.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Gojo sighs. You can envision the exasperation on his countenance. “If anything, we should be the ones upset here. You lied to us both and snuck out.”

This comment travels like electricity through your system, shocking you into place. After a split second of deliberation, you turn on your heel, directly facing the most brazen culprit. He remains still as you march back up, jabbing an accusatory finger at his chest.

“I’m trying to do my job, which, for whatever reason, you both always find a way to interfere with.”

Geto, who has remained silent up until that point, finally chimes in. “I get that you’re frustrated, but was this the best way to handle it?”

You choke out a sardonic laugh. “You’re kidding, right? There’s— there’s just no way.”

Gojo towers over you, his hands resting on his neck. You can feel his Six Eyes scrutinizing every inch of your being behind his round shades, the intrusive sensation akin to spiders crawling along your skin. Unable to withstand the pressure, you avert your gaze, your irritation turning into anxiety. He’s not happy. Neither of them are, but Geto is better at pretending otherwise.

“Will you at least consider our perspective?” Geto asks, his voice eerily calm. “Going to your dorm room to find the window open, your belongings in disarray…”

“After you promised to stay put until we were back,” Gojo impatiently adds.

His audacity temporarily eclipses your fear, reigniting your indignation. “You’re acting like I’ve had any say in the matter.”

Geto shakes his head. “Don’t be unreasonable. This was something we all agreed on — if you had any objections, you should’ve said so.”

“You don’t listen!” You exclaim, the sound accompanied by the flap of birds fleeing the vicinity. How you envy them. “Nothing about this is normal! You’re both seriously freaking me out. Ever since—”

You cut yourself off, your tongue unable to form the syllables that make Amanai Riko, much less vocalize them. Fighting the tightness in your throat, you continue, “Ever since that day, it’s like you can’t trust me to take care of myself. I hate it. I hate this!”

Gojo opens his mouth, only to close it when Geto rests a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. The white-haired sorcerer scoffs, yet acquiesces to whatever his companion silently communicated. You remain the odd one out, unable to peer past the one-way glass they’ve placed you behind. Your hands ball into fists by your side and the lump in your throat grows more prominent. Exhaustion, humiliation, and desperation merge, forming manacles that weigh heavy on your limbs.

You’re pulled up by your arm. You gasp, feeling weightless, mindful of the steep plummet behind you. The grip, though firm, stops shy of keeping you entirely steady so that you must cling to whoever is hoisting you up. Your eyelids squeeze shut out of instinct. When they reopen, you find that you’re facing Gojo, who has removed his sunglasses.

Geto coils himself around you from behind like a serpent. His arms hug your midriff, holding you in place, while his chin rests atop your head. Your measly attempts to writhe away are met with his hold tightening. Never enough to hurt, just enough to prove a point. Compared to them, you’re like an injured gazelle before two lions. It’s moments like this where they don’t bother hiding the immeasurable gap in strength.

“We’re just trying to look out for our girl,” Gojo murmurs, his omnipotent eyes devouring every ounce of your existence. “I get it. We can be a little overbearing at times, yeah? But that’s all for you. Everything we do is.”

You can feel Geto’s chest rumble as he speaks in a low, soothing voice, “You don’t really hate us, do you?”

… Is that what you said? Blinking rapidly, you glance around for a way out that will never appear. Your breathing turns shallow and your vision clouds around the edges.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Kinda came across that way,” Gojo replies.

“I— no…” you bite your bottom lip, their native tongue turning into an indecipherable mess inside your head, “I could never. I only want things to be normal again. I want… to exorcize curses, and…”

Your cheeks flood with warmth as Gojo tilts his head. Suddenly, every request you have feels wrong, laughably insignificant. You shrink into Geto, who is more than happy to have you.

“Your drive, while admirable, might be better utilized elsewhere. You don’t have to always be on the field to make a difference,” he says.

“Suguru has a point. You’re still nowhere close to figuring out Domain Expansions, right? We’ve gotta work on all that.”

Everything they’re saying makes logical sense. You still have a long road ahead until you’re a proper Sorcerer, a road they blew past with ease. Who better is there to learn from than the best? Gradually, you relax your taut muscles. Geto eases his hold as well. You recall what he asked earlier — if you’d be willing to ‘consider their perspective.’ It doesn’t seem as ridiculous as when the question was originally posed.

“But… you’re both so busy.”

“Awe, baby,” Gojo practically coos. He squishes your cheeks together, ignoring your displeased noises. “Has somebody missed us?”

“Don’t torment her too much, Satoru,” Geto’s chastising is weakened by the clear amusement in his voice. “You know she gets shy.”

“Isn’t that the best part?”

You writhe around, their usual teasing instilling discomfort. This time, Geto allows you your freedom, his arms relaxing enough for you to escape. You stand on the step above them, considering your earlier ascent. You had stormed up this staircase with such drive, determined to prove yourself. An abandoned shrine on the mountainside had reportedly been the site of a pesky curse. With both of them gone on separate assignments, you thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to get some firsthand experience…

… Only to find a bored Gojo and visibly disappointed Geto awaiting your arrival.

A cool breeze whips through the air.

“Uh oh. It’s never good when she gets that look,” Gojo dramatically cowers away from you, but not before adding, “How about we kiss and make up, hm? No harm done?”

You ignore Gojo’s antics, settling on a question that’s been gnawing at you.

“How did you find me?”

They exchange quick glances.

Gojo should’ve been in Toyama for another three days, whereas Geto was due back from Osaka tomorrow evening. You’re certain you weren’t spotted by anyone while leaving the school’s premises.

“We wanted to surprise you by coming back early,” Geto explains. “As for how we found you—”

Gojo taps his sunglasses and grins. “I’m known for my killer eyesight.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Are The Six Eyes capable of tracking a person over such a long distance? Getting to this area required a long walk and an hour on the subway. It wouldn’t surprise you if this was within Gojo’s capabilities, but you haven’t heard of anything similar until now. Seeds of doubt sprout inside your mind. Your gut instinct demands a better explanation. Considering the predicament you’re in, you have little bargaining power. If Gojo was by himself, he’d offer you a better hint for amusement’s sake, but Geto doesn’t care for such risks.

“We were worried something happened to you,” Geto’s eyes glaze over with an emotion you can’t identify. It makes you shiver. “I’m sure you feel uncomfortable, but you have to understand where we’re coming from.”

Silvery strands of moonlight highlight the dark bags beneath Geto’s eyes. Your heart lurches in your chest, leaving you at an impasse. Have you ever seen him so exhausted, so thoroughly drained? He does an excellent job at hiding it, but the physical signs are there. A little voice echoes within your skull, reminding you of your role in his drained condition.

They wanted to surprise you, it scolds. All you did was cause more trouble.

Guilt prickles your insides like you’d swallowed a handful of needles.

Your shoulders drop and you stare blankly at the ground. “I’m sorry. I know you’re both looking out for me, I really do. It’s just— I feel so useless, sitting around and doing nothing while everyone else is out there risking their lives. Does that make sense…?”

While trailing off, your eyes flit between them, searching for reassurance to soothe the terrible ache in your chest.

Gojo pats you lightly on the head. “You’re overthinking things. You do plenty — more than enough, actually. You’re like our little cheerleader.”

You make a face at him.

“What Satoru means to say is that you help motivate us,” Geto interjects, casting his companion a sharp look. He then adds in a softer voice, “I know there are times when I need that.”

Geto’s gentle cadence plucks at your heartstrings. It’s strange how, despite being out in the vast wilderness, you feel like you’ve been cornered. The raging tempest that you clung to for vindication has vanished, leaving behind ruins that they sweep away. You can never stay upset with them for long. Right when you believe you’re out of pardons to give, they plead their case, tearing off chunks of your forgiveness and leaving you hollow.

Gojo claps his hands together. “Anyway! All’s well that ends well, etcetera etcetera, so on and so forth. Back to the important stuff. Where’s my ‘I’m-soooo-sorry-for-worrying-my-handsomest-boyfriend’ kiss?”

“Again with that?” Geto murmurs.

You consider the pride of the Gojo clan. He doesn’t do well with quiet, intimate moments. It’s a detail you’ve observed as of late — his restlessness. Ever since he began using Infinity twenty-four-seven, he’s always on high alert, his vigilance never waning. The ability that’d fry your brain if you put out the cursed energy necessary to maintain it for five minutes is his constant state of existence.

What are you going to do with these two?

Gingerly, you cup Geto’s face, who stares at you inquisitively. You press your lips to his in a featherlight kiss. Gojo voices his fair share of complaints over who you chose first, whereas Geto cherishes the moment. It’s you who shies away, your cheeks burning. You bury your face in your hands to muffle the squeaks you emit. It isn't your first kiss with them, but you still find it as embarrassing as that disastrous experience. At least Geto knows how to control his greed, unlike a certain someone, who doesn't even bother.

“What about me?” Gojo pouts.

“Your Infinity is on,” is your weak rebuttal.

“Like I can’t turn it off?”

“Well—”

“C’mere already,” he pries your hands away with ease, suddenly inches away from your face. “Lemme see.”

Gojo whistles slowly. “Wow, you got her all cute and flustered, Suguru. Where’s my phone, I need a picture of this…”

“She’s never going to kiss you at this rate, Satoru.”

He bristles at the prospect, his sunglasses falling askew. “Hah? Quit giving her ideas.”

“Just one kiss,” you manage to get out before they resume bickering. “A-And no tongue!”

Geto chuckles at Gojo's crestfallen expression.

To stop him from whining, you stand on your tiptoes, ready to give him a quick peck. Even standing a step above him, he’s ridiculously tall. As promised, he deactivates his Infinity, allowing you unlimited access to his person. You focus on keeping the kiss chaste. He has a habit of exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue if left unchecked, a sensation you’re not used to. It feels weird and you have no idea why he likes it so much.

When you pull away, he holds you in place, his grin borderline malicious.

“How ‘bout round two?”

“I’ll bite you,” you deadpan.

His eyes gleam behind his sunglasses.

“Oh? Can we make that a promise?”

Geto pulls you away, leading you down the stairs. His fingers interlock with yours. “If you don’t want to be here the rest of the night, just ignore him.”

“Whatever happened to sharing is caring?” Gojo calls out from behind.

When neither of you respond, Gojo’s quick to catch up, his arm slinking around your waist. You’re too busy trying to calm your pounding heart to shake him off. Once again, you’ve been swept up in their riptide. All resisting does is tire you out. You zone out Gojo’s prattling — something about the souvenirs he purchased — fixating on your school-issued shoes.

What will come of this dynamic once you graduate? It won’t always be like this, right? You’ll train even harder, earn their trust, and prove yourself capable; then surely things will go back to how they used to be. How they’re supposed to be. This can’t be the new normal. They have to know that if they keep leaning on you for strength…

… At some point, you’re bound to snap.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #golden girl #yandere gojo x reader #yandere geto x reader #yandere jjk x reader #golden girl yandere au #yandere x reader #my stuff

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dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling · 6 months ago

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Huge thanks to hattiemagix for commissioning this!

Doey & motherly fem reader

★ When Doey first met the reader, he was immediately wary of her. Her kind nature was unfamiliar and he couldn't tell if it was an act or not, it made him suspicious. Even though he liked it when you were around he tried to keep his distance. Can you really blame him? He’s met a lot of people who’ve pretended to be nice, only for them to end up hurting him.

★ Doey tested the reader's boundaries to see if her kindness was genuine. Slowly challenging her patience. "Let's see how long she can keep this up," he thought, observing her reactions closely. Shurely she would slip and show her true colors.

★ Even though it was a tad annoying, you were still patient with him. You never raised your voice or showed anger, even when he was acting difficult. Whether it was explaining something for the hundredth time or dealing with his defensive attitude, you remained steadfast in your kindness.

★ He started to realize that the reader genuinely cared for his well-being. Something he’s not at all used to. Doey never expected to meet someone, an ex-employee no less, who would try so hard to make him feel safe. He misses having someone to look after him, it's been so long, he almost forgot what it's like to be cared for.

★ After that he quickly got used to you, your presence became a comfort. As the days in the factory slowly passed he grew even closer to you. Soon enough he started seeing you as an adoptive mother. But he decided to keep that to himself, for now at least, he wouldn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

★ If anything were to happen to you, he would be devastated. If you need to leave the Safe Haven, Doey becomes visibly anxious. He begins clinging to you, reluctant to let you go. He asks you to make a promise to stay safe and be careful. The thought of losing you fills him with dread."Promise me you'll be careful, okay? I need to know you'll come back safe”

★ After defeating the Doctor and the Prototype you bring him, and many of the other toys, home with you. Because of course you had to bring Kissy, Poppy and those who called the Safe Haven home out of the factory where they were starving.

★ Doey feels a mix of emotions—relief, uncertainty, and a bit of excitement—as he steps into the reader's home "This is... home?" he asks, looking at the various objects you have hung up and strewn about. “Of course” you declare, looking at him as he turns his head. Doey’s expression unreadable, “that is, If you want it to be.” you quickly add.

★ And of course he stays with you! Where else would he go? He's so attached to you he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. By this point, it was clear as day that he needed you around. The way he beams when you compliment him or how he always lingers by you gave it away.

★ After spending the past 10 years in the abandoned shell of a factory, Doey is very eager to make up for lost time. He's really excited to try something new. You take the opportunity to teach him various domestic skills. His new favorite thing is baking with you!

★ He still has nightmares about the factory. When Doey wakes up from a nightmare he's immediately disoriented and filled with fear, the trauma of the factory still lingering in his mind. His breathing is heavy and a sense of panic is overwhelming him. His panicked cries always wake you up.

★ You’re quick to comfort him, rushing to his side and hugging him close "It was just a bad dream. You're okay, and nothing can hurt you here." your gentle touch helped to ground him, "It's okay, Doey. I'm here. You're safe now." it's working, because now his cries have dissolved into a quieter whimper.

★ To help Doey calm down, the reader reaches for his favorite book, "The Adventures of Word Wizard." She knows how much the story means to him and starts reading aloud, her voice steady and comforting. As she continues, doey feels his eyelids grow heavy.

★ Just before he falls asleep, Doey murmurs softly, "Goodnight, Mom." The reader smiles softly, her heart melting from Doey's words. For the rest of the night, he sleeps soundly, knowing he's safe and cared for.

#poppy playtime x reader #player poppy playtime #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter four #poppy playtime headcanon #poppy playtime fanfic #doey #doey x player #doey x reader #doey the doughman #poppy playtime doey #ppt x player #ppt x reader #ppt doey

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sim0nril3y · 6 months ago

Note

I have an ask for Simon and civi reader! What if he comes home from work one day and is just so sore and physically tired. Maybe he always picks reader up during a special hug or whateves. But tonight he doesn’t do it and thinks nothing of it. Then the following days he notices reader walking/ working out more and eating less? He finds out what is going on and proves to her even when he’s tired he will always be able to pick her up and just needs to prove her wrong 🥵

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was a great request, I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you so much for suggesting this! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), weight mentioned, anxiety, angst, diet talk, body talk, confidence issues, comfort, canon-typical swearing.

It was like some pavlovian response to hearing the door opening, you would sprint from wherever you were in your home to greet Simon at the door, jumping into his arms, having him hold you tight and then carry you to where he was originally heading, the kitchen, the lounge, the bedroom… it didn’t matter because he was home and you were in his strong arms, so safe, so secure.

It was the same each and every time. Like clockwork the front door would click open and off you ran, grinning whilst leaping into his arms. Simon would chuckle, holding you securely, asking you about your day, or complimenting you on some tiny little detail hadn't expected him to notice.

It was always the same, except today…

Today you heard the door click open and you rushed from downstairs to greet him at the door. Simon had been placing down his gym bag when you leapt into his arms. "Mn."

You heard it… a little grunt in the back of his throat as his arms tied around you and then… then your feet were in the floor again, his lips on your forehead and he stepped past you. “You hungry? I'll get started on tea.” Simon mentioned as he headed away on his own, arms empty and you left reeling in the hallway. What the hell just happened?

As you sat there eating dinner with Simon your mind was spirally. He’d grunted when you’d jumped into his arms. Had you put on weight? Maybe… but… Simon just seemed so strong almost nothing seemed to faze him… but maybe he was just pretending all those times and really you were too heavy for him to be carrying around… Oh god, maybe you needed to lose weight then? Maybe you’d start now…

You took a last bite of the amazing dinner that Simon had prepared for you and left half a plate of food on your plate. Simon glanced over at you with a quirk on his brow. “Don’t you like it?” He quizzed tapping his fork to your plate and then pushing it back in your direction.

“Uh, no. It’s really nice, but I had a bit of a big lunch.” Replying with a little shake of your head. You despised lying to him, mostly because you were bad at him, but Simon didn’t seem to fight you this time.

The next couple of days continued the same way, additionally you didn’t come greet him with that usual enthusiasm, you’d come to greet him at the door but you were more reserved, certainly not jumping into his arms. As the two of you sat eating dinner you stopped yourself at half the hearty portion he’d given you.

“Alright, what is going on?” Simon asked then as you pushed your plate aside again for the fourth day in a row. “I’m not accepting whatever excuse you’ve cooked up tonight about not eating dinner…”

“What?” You muttered with a little shake of your head. “I’m just not hungry-” “Bollocks.” Simon responded with a roughness to his voice. “It’s been four days… You’ve been waking up before the sun to go to the gym, thinking I haven’t been noticing… cutting back on your meals. You think I haven’t noticed but I have and I’m getting worried. So, you’re gonna tell me what is going on…” You pursed your lips. “Now.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, you suddenly blurted out your reasoning, it was a mess of words mixed with emotion that broken in your voice. “When you got home the other night I jumped into your arms and you grunted.” You informed him, rushed like you didn’t want to say these things along. “I don’t wanna get too heavy that I hurt you when I jump into your arms-”

“Hold on.” Simon held up his hand then. “I grunted when I picked you up?” He asked, thinking back… it really hadn’t been something that had registered his mind, but to think it had been torturing you so much that it had restricted your food intake haunted Simon. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I pulled a muscle in my side doing some training at base.” He explained looking at you then with honesty. “Babe, I can deadlift almost double your weight at the gym, I’m actuallya little insulted that you think I can’t carry you.”

With a huff then Simon rose up from his seat and rounded the table to take your arm and suddenly hoist you up over his shoulder with a practiced ease. “I don’t care if I have to bench press you to make you believe me, but I promise you that the problem was never with your perfect fuckin’ body.” Then he moved you to sit you on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs and cupping your face as gazed lovingly into your eyes. “But I’m sorry if I ever made you think that there was something wrong with you… I love every bloody inch of you, regardless of everything you believe to be an imperfection.”

Leaning in Simon pressed a warm kiss to your lips, tugging back to lean his forehead against your own. “Now, you’re gonna sit your arse in that chair and finished your dinner than I’m carry you upstairs and have my dessert.”

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2025

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #simon riley x y/n #ghost mw3 #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost imagine

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ghostyuri · 7 months ago

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i know it’s over

click!

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie doesn’t have the heart to tell joel you had broken up before the holidays; so you pretend you didn’t.

before you read...18+. angst. sad sex. afab reader. written with modern au in mind.

slow christmas songs play lowly from a record joel had put on, setting the mood of the crackling wood in the fireplace, and the twinkling tree in the corner.

the older man is laughing with ellie about something in the kitchen, and for a moment, this feels normal. like you belong here, and you’re happy to be here; something so wrong.

three weeks of heartache, shoved to the pits of your stomach, forced to smile and act as though you didn’t carry that overbearing pain. as if you and ellie were okay. she might be. you’re not sure, she doesn’t open up about her feelings to you anymore, especially not about your breakup.

it would be too hard, for her, for you, for your loved ones that view you two as inseparable. sure, the time will come when it can no longer remain a secret, but you’re in no rush to admit to something you still cannot even fathom happening in the first place.

to tell the world that ellie isn’t yours anymore, that the small insignificant arguments had somehow piled up and led you down an unhappy path. something so odd to think about now, because you’ve only ever been happy with ellie. until now.

you see her from the corner of your eye, taking a seat on the couch beside you, but not next to you. not directly, not close enough to place her hand on your lap, to allow your head to rest on her shoulder. even as much as that hurts, it doesn’t compare to the emotional distance between you.

your eyes remain on the glowing fire before you, not daring to look at the woman who was already looking to you. searching for something to say, to make this less awkward. her mouth stays shut, allowing the quiet void to be filled with whatever sad christmas song was playing.

you’re grateful the moment is soon interrupted by a knock at joel’s door, signaling his brother and his wife have arrived. you watch the flip switch in ellie, her cold demeanor around you suddenly dropping with a smile, hugging tommy and maria while you fiddle with your fingers.

you’re next to be engulfed in tight embraces, the couple had done an incredible job at making you feel welcomed in their family. they have since they realized ellie was pretty fucking serious about you, but that was three years ago. three years now down the drain.

you force a smile when you catch the negative thoughts spilling in your head, though it doesn’t reach your eyes, ellie noticing from a few feet away.

she hated it.

joel interrupts with the announcement of dinner, bringing you a great sense of relief. just get it over with, pass out in the guest bedroom you two are occupying for the night, and leave in the morning. go back to life without her.

you sit in the chair next to ellie, feeling her hand cling to yours under the table. she squeezes gently, and you’re unsure if it was out of reassurance or habit. regardless, you sharply pull your hand away, her head snapping towards you, but you don’t look at her.

you pick at your food, drowning ellie out with whatever conversation joel and tommy are sharing, even laughing at their stupid jokes. and it’s genuine, ellie spotting the twinkle in your eyes when your lips curled upwards.

she was so fixated on you looking…happy, that she hadn’t realized she was the topic of discussion, joel telling a story about her rebellious teenage years.

you forget the tension between you two at the moment, especially when ellie chimes in, correcting joel on some of the details, and eventually just taking over.

you direct your attention to her, the tint of red painting her freckled cheeks due to embarrassment, which slowly faded as she chuckled at her younger self.

she was always so adorable when she got flustered, and you’re reminded how much she hated it when you pointed that out. or so, she pretended to. she never admitted that just made her even more flustered.

her eyes meet yours now, and you’re pulled out of the moment, smile falling. an exchanged uncomfortable glare. loving gazes now replaced with something bitter and too much for you to bear. you redirect your eyes to your lap.

joel takes in the sight from the end of the table, sipping on his drink, before speaking.

“so… you two gonna keep lookin’ like you’ve got a secret?”

you both turn to him.

“hm?” “what?”

your voices blend with each other, the heat rising in your cheeks at the spotlight put on you two. was it that obvious? did he have to point it out?

“a secret? who’s gotta secret?” tommy chimes in, your head now dipping as ellie lets out an exhausted sigh. “no one— no one,” ellie says, using that firm tone that everyone recognizes as her stop bothering me tone. you got pretty used to it in the days leading up to your breakup.

joel drops it, knowing if ellie wanted joel to know anything, she would’ve told him. tommy dares to pry, though, not recognizing the thick tension.

“y’all hiding rings from us?” he chuckles, but no one laughs. if anything, it makes you want to cry. you would pick that scenario over this a million times over again. you wonder what you could’ve done differently that would’ve led you down that road with her, and down the aisle.

how you could’ve treated her better, despite treating her like the most loved person in the entire world. because that’s what she is to you, even now. how you could’ve solved every issue that snuck into your relationship, despite trying to and ending up feeling like you had only made it so much worse.

how you would be holding her fidgety hand under this table, just longing to feel the comfort of her warm touch, rather than dropping it and being repelled by her touch. how everything could’ve been good. perfect, even. instead, you’re stuck grieving a fleeting relationship in silence.

ellie clears her throat, “maybe one day.”

ouch. your chair scrapes against the wooden floorboard, ellie looking up at you as you walk away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. you don’t register you’re crying until you’re locked safely in the small room, holding onto the sink, letting them fall down your face.

maybe it was the way she said it— like she almost believed it. or wished for it. or the idea that your ex-girlfriend was going to be married, and it wasn’t to you. that you’re here, for the last time. that you’re spending the most wonderful time of year with the love, and loss, of your life, for the last time.

you had managed to wear faux smiles since the break up— it was inevitable for this breakdown to occur.

after a moment of muffling your cries into your hands, there’s silence, you attempting to calm yourself and return to a state of false normalcy. then the gentle knock hits the bathroom door, joel’s gruff voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“you alright, kiddo?”

you dry your face, practicing a smile in the mirror, then swinging the door open. “yeah— yeah, sorry,” you tell him, “just don’t feel well.”

it’s not a complete lie, you truly feel like the earth is crumbling at your feet. you wouldn’t tell him why, exactly, but joel had two working eyes.

“you know…if there’s anything going on between you two…” he drifts off, not even sure where he was going with this. he wasn’t great with advice, he just tried to speak on what he knew. and what he knows is, you’re one of the best things to happen to ellie.

“you two got lucky finding each other. that’s all,” he tells you, giving a sad smile like he is aware of the situation without having it explained to him.

it crushes your heart even more, another nail hit in the coffin of you and ellie. another pile of dirt poured over you two, burying your relationship that you’re not ready to let go of. but holy fuck, is it nearly out of your grasp.

when he walks away, the tears begin to build again. you swiftly walk to the bedroom ellie and you were staying for the night, hearing the muffled voices from downstairs, hoping you weren’t the topic.

you are. not in the sense that you dread, though, rather being spoken about highly from maria. ellie keeps her green eyes trained on the floor, listening to the woman elaborate on the words that tommy had said earlier. a ring. a proposal. a step forward for you two.

not knowing there wasn’t a step forward, there was nothing anymore.

“y/n…they uh, aren’t feeling too hot,” joel changes the topic, ellie picking up her lowly hung head. though she can assume the reasoning as to why, she still leaves the room, a need to check in on you, even if that’s not what you want.

you hear the door open, but you’re laid comfortably on your side, not bothering to turn over and see her.

“hey,” her voice is wary, nervous while approaching the bed. she sees the tear marks on your pretty face, the one nearly covered by the blanket pulled up to the tip of your nose. ellie kneels on the floor beside you, meeting you face to face. sad eyes to miserable eyes.

“it’s too much, ellie,” you whisper, voice cracking near immediately.

“i know.”

“why did we…” you stop yourself, the heat in your cheeks now burning you alive, thinking about it too much. something that’s said and done, something you two discussed to not talk about again, and yet.

“it’s so hard,” you barely get out, now pulling the blanket over your head completely, a safe space to let your tears flow rather than in front of the only person that would ever comfort you.

ellie still does, pulling the soft fabric back down, palm resting against your cheek kindly— wishing she could take the same pain she is experiencing, from you.

she would endure it, and perhaps this would be easier. entering the new year no longer caring for her. putting yourself first for once rather than her. loving yourself more than her. it would all be so easy.

her head falls, and her eyes water. your blurry vision clears when you take notice, suddenly putting your emotions on the back burner and wiping your eyes.

“els,” you whisper, throwing the blanket off of you and sitting up. your legs swing over the edge of the bed, ellie taking it as an invitation to close whatever space was between you, sobbing in your lap. a rare sight, she hadn’t even done this the night you had split. she was monotone, numb in that moment. now, it’s crashing down on her at once.

you stay like this until her crying stops, the house now quiet, tommy and maria having left. joel is assumingly in his bedroom, passed out as a christmas classic plays on his television. the house feels colder, or maybe that’s just the bedroom.

when ellie adjusts herself, she looks up to you, an unspoken conversation being held between your damp eyes.

ellie leans forward, doing the last thing she should do right now, and kisses you. softly. sadly. passionately.

you scoot back on the bed, her lips not leaving yours while she crawls on top of you, neither of you thinking right now— not about what’s happening, anyway.

all you feel is her, and you need her, in every sense, weeks of telling yourself that you don’t now unraveling. this isn’t about lust. even when her cool hand travels to the waistband of your pants, finding warmth inside of them, awaiting a reaction from you. to push her away, or change your mind, she waits for it.

her lips part from yours, face inches from yours, studying you. you speak quietly, “please.”

she gulps.

once more, she leans in, lips moving slowly with yours, while her hand slips into your underwear. you gasp into her mouth when you feel her, busying your own hands beneath her dark shirt, resting them against her pale back.

your nails dig into her the moment her middle finger enters you, but you only whimper when she adds her ring finger, letting you adjust to how she feels inside you— just right.

then she curls them, angling them on that spongey spot without fault, kissing you harder when a yelp attempts to escape from your lips, being reunited with a feeling you had longed for.

the feeling of ellie taking care of you. wanting to make you feel more than okay. not locked in the bathroom crying after an argument, or isolated in your shared bed because she’d rather sleep on your worn-out thrifted couch.

ellie loving you.

the wind howls against the windows in the bedroom, and you hope the eerie noise blocks your crying out. it doesn’t, and ellie suddenly stops.

“fuck,” she whispers to herself, both guilt and shame creeping into her veins. she took this too far, she thinks. ellie attempts to pull away, but your hand grips her arm, preventing her from doing so.

“i’m okay— ellie, please,” you tell her, afraid to stop, and to lose this. you need this. you beg again, “please, baby.”

and ellie repeats herself again, “fuck.”

to your request, she keeps going, fucking you while you cling to her. ellie is going fast, relentless, and the noises between your thighs are indecent. your grasp gets tighter the closer she brings you to that light at the end of the tunnel, but you can’t seem to actually reach it.

you’re drifting, even when she picks up her pace, pressing against the sweet spots that would usually have you seeing stars.

you know ellie is rushing this. she’s not making love to you, she’s fucking you crudely, but right now your mind is desperately trying to blur those lines.

your eyes remain shut when ellie’s face parts from yours, attempting to chase that high running away from you.

“hey,” ellie speaks, “look at me, y/n.”

you obey, brows furrowed with pleasure and sadness. you probably look a mess; she doesn’t think so. “beautiful,” she says, that rasp in her voice that you’re utterly obsessed with.

“haven’t said it enough lately…but you are…so fucking beautiful,” ellie continues, not slowing down the rhythm at which she moved in and out of you. “wish you could see yourself…fuck…”

you know what she’s doing, but it’s absolutely working.

she feels you tighten around her, heart racing and jaw-dropping with a moan threatening to spill from your soft lips. she reacts quickly, palm on your mouth to muffle the noise, these walls too thin for the noises she made you make.

“gonna be quiet for me?” ellie asks, the question more so teasing than sincere. still, you nod lazily against the mattress. she questions you again, “gonna cum for me?”

you don’t answer her this time— your body does that for you, shuddering beneath her and crying out into her hand. ellie doesn’t drag it out, she removes her fingers, sucking them while you collect yourself, calming your shaky breath.

it’s a waiting game for who speaks first, ellie shifting and sitting at the edge of the bed, gripping the blanket beneath her. she’s trying to wrap her head around…all of this…around you.

meanwhile, you force your tired body to move, crawling behind her and wrapping your arms around her torso, head resting on her shoulder. a position you could stay in forever if life was kind enough and allowed you to.

“we can tell him in the morning.”

her words bring you out of the haze you’re in, like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown in your fucking face. that’s what ellie did best. she gave you everything you had wanted, just to take it away.

“okay,” you respond, letting go of her completely— in the physical way.

#-insertcatemoji #freakmas #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us fanfic #ellie x reader #ellie williams #tlou fanfic #wlw fanfic #why are you still reading this? do you want me??

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