#I tried to see what someone said recently about me but I couldn’t see the post so I don’t know what gifs they are talking about that

[lacyssturns]

YOURE LOSING ME! ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

synopsis : reader and nate are secretly dating. reader wants to go public but nate doesn’t want to. can this make serious damage in their relationship?

pairing : sls! reader and nathan doe

warnings : angst , fighting , use of y/n, unresolved angst

“a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her”

nate had asked me to come over so we could talk. recently our relationship has been off, and distant. a week ago we got into a huge argument that landed up with me walking out.

FLASHBACK

“y/n you just don’t get it!” nate raised his voice, using his right hand to talk with him. “get what nate, i honestly don’t understand.” i yelled back.

he sighed, rubbing his hand against his forehead in stress, “im just not ready to go public yet okay? can we please move on from this?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing as he slightly shook his head.

“you have been saying that for the past YEAR nate?! why! why! you never give me a full understanding of why this must be so secretive, especially to my own brothers.” at this point im just begging, begging for answers.

suddenly, nate slams his hands against the wooden table causing me to flinch backwards. “because y/n im embarrassed.” the tears that were threatening to fall, then suddenly came out. “im embarrassed to be dating someone 2 years younger than me, someone i grew up with and i saw as my little sister for the longest time ever.”

the vision of nate infront of me was blurred out by the tears streaming down my face, “okay then if that’s how it is then im leaving.”

FLASHBACK ENDED

ever since that night i’ve been stuck in bed. nate’s words were stuck with me, they circled around my head creating a tornado that felt as if it was never ending.

my brothers all tried cheering me up or figuring out what was wrong but i just couldn’t get myself to tell them the honest truth.

now here i am, standing infront of nate’s door shivering from the icy wind. once i hear the door open i look up from my shoes. there’s nate, messy hair, puffy red eyes and a black hoodie with matching pajama pants we bought together.

“uhm hi” he said to me quickly moving to the side so i can move past him. i gave him a little smile while walking in, being enveloped with the warm air.

nate led me to the couch and once we sat together at least 2 other people could sit in the distance we had between eachother.

we sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the small time we’re spending after a week.

“y/n, i love you so much please never doubt that. i know you’ve been wanting to go public with us and i told you my reason why we shouldn’t. i regret telling you that because im not embarrassed by you..” nate told me, just as i was about to open my mouth he continued, “but..i can’t give you everything you want sometimes especially opening up to your brothers about our relationship.”

i felt as if my heart was ripped out of me and crushed down onto the ground, “what..” i whispered as he just nodded at me, not even making eye contact. “so are you saying that we’re..” he interrupts me to finish my sentence, “over.”

my breath was taken away as i scooted closer to him, “no nate what? please i can’t lose you! if you don’t want to tell my brothers that’s okay but please don’t leave me.”

nate inched himself away from me, causing a pain in my chest, “im sorry y/n..”

i couldn’t breathe, i could barely breathe. my mouth open but yet no words coming out. i feel a sudden sob start to come out me, letting out what was needed. i feel nate lean in to put his arms around me but i stand up.

“no, please..don’t touch me.” i murmured loud enough for him to hear. i grabbed my small bag off of the couch, rushing to get out of the place that used to feel like a second home.

getting into my car, i take one last glance at him. he’s standing in the door way staring, no emotion on his face… nothing. i quickly drive away.

i pull over a few blocks away from nate’s home. breathing uncontrollably, feeling the tears drip down onto my bare legs and head resting against the driving wheel.

⋆˚࿔ the end 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

@jetaimevous @mbbsgf @mattsdirtylittlehoe @valentinasturniolo @blahbel668 @memea32221 @ellelovessturniolo @ifwdominicfike @dominicfikeenthusiast @sunrisemill @mattsdolll @444alexis @frnkocnlvr

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

prev. | next

KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[starkwlkr]

Imagine helping old man logan with his claws after they get stuck like in the movie. Kissing the space between his knuckles 😭 this is all I can think about after rewatching logan recently

one more kiss, dear | old man logan

an: oh god that scene 😭 old man logan let me give you a hug <3 tried to find a gif with that scene but i couldn’t so here’s this:

mutant!reader (someone said we need more aging reader fics and I AGREE so that’s what this is)

You were folding Logan’s clothes when he stumbled in with his claws sticking out, we’ll sort of. You could see some blood on his white shirt. It hurt to see him like that. He didn’t speak to you at all and you didn’t push him to. Maybe he just wanted peace and quiet . .

He sat on the old bed, watching you as you finished folding his last shirt, that’s when you finally took a look at his hand.

“No,” Logan stopped you from grabbing his hand. Your ability to regenerate was failing like his, he certainly didn’t want you to get hurt. “I’ll do it.”

You weren’t going to take no as an answer. Ignoring Logan, you kneeled in front of him and took his hand in yours. You mentally prepared yourself for the pain. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around the claw that was stuck and pulled. Blood started pouring down the palm of your hand, but you didn’t care. The pain in your body seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the claw.

You could hear groaning coming from Logan, which made your heart ache more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” You whisper to him as the claw moved forward.

After what seemed like forever, you finally got the claw to its place. You stumble back, your body filled with exhaustion and pain, but all you could think about was how Logan felt. You looked up at the old man, the relief and love you saw in his gaze were both heart-wrenching and comforting.

It took a couple a minutes, but the claws eventually disappeared back into his hand. Logan winced as they went back in.

After wrapping your hand in some bandages, you took Logan’s hand again. The bloody knuckles, the wounds, the suffering . . . You didn’t want this life for him.

“I hurt you.” Was all Logan could say as he saw the bandage on your hand.

You ignored the comment, instead you wiped away some of the blood form his knuckles with a rag he had on the table beside the bed. After cleaning up the blood, you let him know you were okay by placing kisses where the claws had just come out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper to him, almost sounding like you were about to cry. “It’s okay.” Even as your own strength ebbed away, you knew your greatest comfort was simply being there for him.

“We’re going to be okay.” You placed one last kiss on his knuckle.

[antiwhores]

Your co-workers like to bully you.

Atleast thats what Bakugou suspected. He had to make an educated guess after your gloomy, closed off behavior everyday after work.

Bakugou works as a pro hero, no one gets to bully him in his work environment. But you work a humble job at a library about a mile or so away. He told you that you didn’t need to work the job since he brought more than enough money to the table to support you and him. But you insisted on working a job to “help” the both of you out. He accepted your money after a long debate with the conditions that you only pay for the phone bills.

You seemed to like your job though. In the early weeks of getting it he remembers you practically bouncing at the walls when you came home. You’d be bussing to talk about the newest work drama, the new book you read, a customer, etc.

He got into the habit of sitting down in the living room when he was home and waiting for you to come to him and sit on his lap. Then you’d tell him of your clearly exaggerated adventures of the day while he played with your hair.

But recently those nights were followed by not the usual fun answers, but dry answers to questions he asked to try to promote a stream of words from you.

He started to really get suspicious when you downright said no to him when he asked you to tell him about his day.

So he did what he did best and stuck his nose into your business.

He knew he couldn’t figure it out by himself without getting caught so he hired someone to figure it out for him.

A full on spy. A man that he met in the work field that owed him a favor after he saved his life.

“Is this really what you wanna cash out your favor on?” The man questioned.

Bakugou scoffed, “Just fuckin’ do it and stop questioning me.”

After two days the man reported back to Bakugou. Apparently, a group of coworkers had been harassing you. Talking shit, snarky comments, stealing your lunches, hiding your paperwork, etc.

Bakugou was fucking furious.

He stomped down to your work place, hero suit still on, and demanded to see the higher ups. They tried to stop him but he wouldn’t let up. No way some piece of shit workers were gonna bully his girl. He wouldn’t allow it!

To his luck, the district director was in a meeting with all the other higher ups. He busted into the meeting room, furious as ever. They were startled, dropping their pens and gasping.

After the shock went away, the noticed who this brash man was.

“Dynamight, sir, how can we help you?” The director spoke carefully. She recognized how Bakugou had a higher status than her. He could get them all fired by a phone call.

“Your shitty employees have been fucking with one of your hardest workers. I had my men come in and investigate and…”

He went into detail on what they’ve been doing to not just you, but other employees in the building. He degraded their department, saying that its a disgraceful work environment.

After he was done, his face was still red with anger. But he wasn’t the only one red. The district director was practically a tomato.

“I am so embarrassed and disappointed hearing this. They will be fired immediately. I am really sorry, Dynamight. I will make sure that they won’t be able to work at any other library in this district.”

He scoffed, turning around to head for the door. “Make it any other library in Japan.”

“Yes sir.” He said as Bakugou slammed the door behind him.

You came home happy that night and for the first time in a while, you told him about your (exaggerated) day.

[darnell-la]

Darkceo!logan and employer!fem-reader when he's using his power to control her fully as employer and plaything💯

pairing: dark!boss!logan howlett x employ!reader

warnings: controlling, unprofessional, threats, choking, hair pulling, sexual harassment, high power, forced creampie, rough sex, marking, baby trapping, etc.

note: I’ll be Logan’s slut coworker anytime.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“Logan, I can’t stay after hours to help the kids in detention. I’ve got work to do myself,” y/n said after the man called her in his office. This was his third time within a week, making her stay back.

“Well, I’ve got paperwork, and need someone to watch the kids when I’m not looking,” the man fixed his glasses before looking back at the computer he was typing on.

“You’re in the same room as them — I’m sure they’re not gonna up and leave,” y/n tried convincing the man to let her go, but that wasn’t happening, just like the other nights.

“When I tell something once, I expect you to listen, y/n. Don’t make me tell you again,” the man had looked up at the girl.

Y/n stood in the middle of the man’s office, wanting to fight for some kind of break, but last time he had scared her into staying.

“Yes, sir,” the young lady said before turning around and walking off. She could see the smirk on the older man after her sentence. He owned her, and she had no one to go to and tell.

“Y/n, stay back — We need to talk,” Logan said after y/n dismissed detention for the kids. Some laughed as others ran out, ready to do whatever teenage mutants did at this time of night.

“Mister Howlett, I really need to get to my own work-“ she tried saying. “Don’t start,” the man cut her off at the end of her sentence. The way he always looked over his glasses, made her shut up in an instant.

The class was finally empty. Logan stood outside of the door, waiting for all of his students to leave before closing and locking his classroom door.

“You’re the best teacher I’ve got, y/n, but your attitude — It ain’t pretty,” Logan finally turned around, eyes burning into hers. She didn’t want to get fired. She’s done everything he’s asked, but she could feel something coming.

“Ima need you to work after hours right here with me. Confused it a mild punishment for your recent behaviors,” he said, confusing the girls.

“Mister Howlett, I’ve donen’t everything you’ve asked me to for days. If I don’t get my own work done, I can fall behind. The stress isn’t good for teaching,” she tried telling the man.

Logan walked toward the girl, letting her talk for once until he stood right before her.

“I know you love this job, y/n, but you will lose it if you don’t obey me,” the man said. Obey? “Logan, this isn’t some kind of joke. I can’t be around you all day and night for no reason. I have papers myself,” y/n tried standing her ground, but it was hard. His gaze intimidated her.

“Then take ‘em down here for now on. Don’t argue with me anymore,” the man looked down at her as she rolled her eyes. He didn’t like that.

“Look-“ Logan said as his hand raised, gripping the girl's neck out of nowhere. “I don’t know who the fuck told you, you can act a certain way towards me — But I’d advise you to cut that shit out,” he said.

When the girl didn’t give a response and just looked up at the man, he dragged her until her body was pinned against the cold thick wooden walls.

“You think I’m a joke, Bub? I’ll fire you right now. I don’t give a fuck how important you are to my school. I’ll fire you and throw you out tonight,” the man threatened as his body pressed against her.

“So as I said, cut the fuckin’ attitude, before I do it for you,” another threat was made. “You can’t just-“ y/n tried saying. “I can’t just what? Hm!?” Gripped her neck tighter, waiting for her to tell him what he couldn’t do with her.

“Y-You can’t just do this, Logan. I have a job to do, just like you, and you’re getting in my way. Y-You’re distracting me,” she finally said.

She had been trying to tell the man for weeks now, but every time, he’d threaten the woman’s job. It was unprofessional of him shaking up in her room one night, and telling her she needed to come to her rooms at times and work. She didn’t know what the man's problem was, and she was scared to ask.

“Oh, I’m distracting?” He asked in a low voice which slightly came out as a growl. He couldn’t help but smirk and scan the young lady. She looked so good like this.

“Maybe I am too — Those lips aren’t very easy to ignore,” he said, face coming close to hers. Once his hot breath hit her skin, her heart dropped and reality hit her. This man has been hitting on her…

“M-Mister Howlett,” the girl spoke, earning a groan from the man. “Yes, princes?” He asked as one knee moved in between her leg, pushing until he grazed her clothes folds.

Y/n regretted listening to the man when he demanded her to look more professional by wearing skirts and dressed to teach.

“T-This is unprofessional,” she said, instantly making the man laugh as he tilted his head back. “God, you’re so fuckin’ dumb. Lucky me, I like ‘em that way,” the man said before he slowly leaned at her neck.

The young girl whined softly, her heart rate raising as her boss sucked on her neck. “L-Logan,” she pushed at his shoulders softly, but what would that do? He was stronger and wanted this.

The man growled in her neck, loving the way his name rolled from her tongue. “L-Logan, stop this,” y/n pushed harder at the man’s shoulders, but all he did was laugh at her skin.

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears as she noticed her cunt throb on his thigh. She was growing wet as well, and she knew he knew that.

After Logan realized how much she was leaking, he pulled her off of the wall by her hair, pulling her over to his desk. “Be a good coworker, and spread for me,” the man pushed her down onto his desk, almost breaking it.

“Ow, Logan,” the girl whined. He loved how venerable she was. The girl wasn’t a mutant, so she knew he was too strong for her. He loved the power he had over her as a mutant and boss.

Y/n repeatedly begged the man to let her go, telling him she’d do whatever he wanted from now on with no attitude, but all he said was “Ima get that anyway,”.

Logan pulled the girl's tight dress up, eyes filling with darkness as he saw her wet spot. “Fuckin’ slut got wet on the job,” the spat before ripping them off clean.

“P-Please, Logan,” y/n begged again, legs already shaking from the fear in her body. She’s never been with a mutant, and having her boss be the first, isn’t professional of her. She can’t do this.

“Don’t worry, Bub — Gonna fill this cunt right up. Give her what she needs,” he made up his own thoughts on what y/n wanted as he pulled himself out, stroking until he felt pre cum leak from his tip.

Logan knew the young lady wasn’t on birth control. He made her sign work papers, having that down as one of the questions. She didn’t think of it at first because she just wanted a job. A normal job, but now she knows it’s not so normal.

Logan forcefully pushed at the girl's entrance, making her grip his table. He was huge, and he hadn’t even filled her to the brim yet.

“L-Logan, please!” She begged as tears slipped from her eyes. The man groaned as he slipped into her walls, feeling the instant warmth and grip. “Fuck,” he couldn’t keep in. He’s been waiting on this for a while.

L-Logan,” the girl's cracked voice filled the room as he pushed all the way into her. She felt full. She felt pain. She felt pleasure. He knew she liked this deep down.

“Ah huh, baby — You like it?” He asked as he slowly pulled back before pushing back in. Y/n’s body went stiff at the length he was. He was too deep, and he loved it.

“T-Too much, Logan,” she cried low, gripping his desk harder. “I know, Bub, but whose fault was that for not being nicer to me? I would’ve trained you with my fingers, but you’ve been pissin’ me off lately,” Logan leaned over y/n, rubbing at her cheeks.

“Got me so fuckin’ angry, but all I could think about if fuckin’ it out. All out, into you,” the snap on his hips made the girl yelp. “So, you’re gonna lay here, and fuckin’ take it — professionally,”

Logan couldn’t help himself. He tugged on the girl's hair and gripped the side of her waist, pulling her into every hard thrust he could give. He knew the screws on the table were loosening, but he’ll fix it later.

“Can’t walk around here this tight and think I don’t want a taste, baby. Gonna be havin’ this cunt whenever I want, and however I want from now on,”

Y/n’s cunt was finally stretched and wet, good enough for Logan to slip into her with ease, but still rough enough to punish her. He neared to use the power he had over her, and he was.

“For now on, you’re in my room. Don’t need you unsupervised when you’re this tight,” the sounds of y/n’s juice filled the room as he talked. She couldn’t control her system. She was leaking worse than before. “And leave the panties alone. Need ease access in what’s mine,”

The girl's cunt throbbed at his words, not knowing why, but she knew she was fucked. If she tried telling anyone she didn’t want this after knowing the knot in her stomach getting harder to hold, they’d laugh in her face.

“Petty girls gonna cum, hm? Well, that ain’t so professional of you, ain’t it? Tellin’ me how unprofessional I am, but you’re about to cum on my jeans like the whore of the night,”

Y/n tried holding herself back, angry that he read her like a book, but she soon failed. She came all over his lower body, making the sounds of his thrust louder and more sloppy.

“That’s it, baby — Cum in my cock, and I might give you a raise,” he chuckled as he felt himself eat close. Y/n felt horrible. She clenched around the man after he mentioned a raise. That could only mean she was fine with this, as long as she got paid.

“Gonna have to save after the baby forms in your stomach. Can’t have my pretty girl workin’ too hard,” a whine left the girl's mouth. A very sexual moan that made him know she wanted this. Deep down, she couldn’t hide it. She couldn’t hide how good he was fucking the life out of her.

“That’s it, baby — Keep moaning like that, and Ima put a village in this sweet cunt,” the man said between his teeth, now slamming into her. His thrust was brutal, knowing the wind and trapped moans from her mouth any time his pelvis slapped her ass.

“Fuck, yes, baby. Grip me — Grip me and show me you want it,” the man's cock twitched in her walls, warning her, he was close. Before he could say another teasing sentence, he was cut off by his groans as he filled the girl up.

He spilled in her for what felt like hours, pushing his cock deeper into her cunt to make sure one of them would be a winner.

[itoshiexx]

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you. 

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair. 

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you. 

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them. 

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend. 

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions. 

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone. 

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear. 

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you. 

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?” 

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen. 

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one. 

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more. 

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom. 

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours. 

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining. 

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[wcters]

𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟 𝗚𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

word count: 2.6k

summary: y/n joins the triplets on the cut the camera podcast to talk about having a boyfriend who’s a triplet, social media, and hobby’s

warnings: dirty/sexual jokes, established relationship, swearing, sexual innuendos, not a warning but thank you @whoetoshaw for some inspiration. please check her out! i will probably make another one 🤍

“Good morning campers, welcome back to the cut the camera podcast. It’s your hosts Nick Sturniolo,” Nick introduced, “Matt Sturniolo,” Matt told the camera, “and Chris Sturniolo.” The boys finished. “And we have a special guest if you couldn’t hear her laughing at us, Matt’s girlfriend, Y/n!” Nick told the camera as it showed you in your seat, smile on your face as you waved. “Happy to be here.” You spoke to the camera. It then panned to Matt sitting his his seat with his cheeks turning pink. “We had to beg her for so long to feature in one of these.” Chris laughed, shifting his hat as he spoke into the mic. “We had to buy her a box of Diet Coke.” He deadpanned. You smiled in response.

“Okay, to be fair, I’m not a social media person. I think the only social media I have and use a lot is Instagram and Facebook.” The three boys laughed as you mentioned Facebook. “It’s for family members! My grandparents have a hard time figuring out social media apps. But either way, have Tiktok but don’t even remember the last time I posted on there.” You tried to think but nothing was popping up. “That brings me into the first question,” Chris interrupts you, “what’s it like dating an “influencer” as some would call us while you just ━━ quite recently actually ━━ made your accounts public?”

“━━ before you speak,” Nick interrupted as Chris gave him an annoyed look and Matt groaned. “Here he goes.” Matt whispered into the mic. “I was just going to say she should introduce herself!” He yelled in defense as he put his hands up. “Oh shit, true.” Chris gestured to you. “Hello everyone, I am Y/n and I am a friend of the triplets and Matt’s girlfriend.” You started to introduce. “I like how she said a friend of the triplets and not just Matt’s girlfriend.” Nick laughed. “You know it babe.” You replied, laughing in your seat. “Anyway, I am nineteen. I am from Canada, and moved to LA around two ━━ three years ago? Yeah. Sorry, what was the question before?” “See, Chris? She has manners. You need to learn some.” Nick teased. “Shut the fuck up. The question was what’s it like to date an influencer?” Chris asked. Matt turned his head toward you.

“I’m not really sure what it’s like to not date an influencer since Matt was like . . . my first “real boyfriend” you could say, but I would assume it’s similar to a relationship with a non-influencer. You do the same things: dates, sleepovers, movies, etc. But he’s away sometimes,” you shrug, “when you guys went on tour, Matt was away a lot and we had to do long distance for a bit. I think it was hard for both of us ━━”

“━━ more for me.”

“━━ but it’s what happens when you date someone as famous as you guys are. I know what I was getting into, same with the social media part. I knew I would be on camera sometimes, especially because you guys vlog and other things. You guys respected my want to be off camera and I remember, Matt was so worried when we got together because we really liked each other but social media was his job, but I was fine with that! Of course I would be.”

“I was so worried,” Matt breathed out, “like I had mentioned before that I did what I do and she had mentioned that she didn’t want to be online, but when it got serious I didn’t want for this whole thing to be ruined because of what I do, you know?” “Of course,” Nick butted in, “and especially hate that she could’ve gotten ━━ no offense Y/n.” You nodded, “none at all. Completely agree.” “You would’ve felt a little scared, no?” Matt and you nodded. “I didn’t, and don’t, want her to be effected negatively from it. I mean, it’s inevitable really, but still. I couldn’t help it, still can’t, I’m her boyfriend.” “I knew what I was getting into,” you spoke, “it’s what happens in most male celebrity, youtuber fan bases. You guys get hate too sometimes.”

Chris nodded. “I think me and Nick were a bit unsure too. We had known you for awhile and we liked you. We talked to Matt about it too. Just saying like “watch out for hate,” and “support her,” and shit like that. You didn’t need any help at all.” “Like I said, I knew what I was getting into. I have friends that are dating some popular content creators and we have talked about it before. That’s how I know what to experience and how to deal with it. Thank you ━━“ there was a bleep as you said her name “━━ love you to bits.”

“What is it like to be on the podcast?” The youngest boy asked, looking at his phone and then to you. “To be honest? It feels great. I have seen this set from when it was just an idea to it actually happing and it is truly amazing to see what these boys can do.” You we’re honest, these boys had such great ideas and it felt unreal to see them come true. “Matt, you have such a nice girlfriend.” A laugh that sounded more like a giggle came out of Matt’s mouth. “Thanks. She is.” He replied, moving the mic. There was laughing around the table.

“This would’ve been super awkward if you were like “no, I hate her!”” You joked. Nick put his hand over his mouth. “I don’t know what I would do if that actually happened.” “Well good thing I’m not going to say that.” Matt spoke, looking at his girlfriend. “Thanks. What a man everyone,” you clapped your hands, “get yourself someone like this guy over here.” You pointed to him.

“Yes!” Nick yelled, clapping too. “And, there’s two other brothers . . . but one is gay. He is still available? Boys? Hit that line. And Chris’s too,” you pointed to the long-haired brother, “it’s too often he tries to get into the bed with me and Matt because he hates sleeping alone.” You whispered into the mic. The camera moved to Matt nodding and then to Chris as he started to protest. “No! You’re just over too often. Stop hogging my brother. I slept with him first ━━ wait!” He puts his hands up. You moved your hand over you mouth in shock as Matt leaned his head against the table and Nick copied your movement. “Not like that! I meant we,” pointing to Matt, him, and Nick, “had sleepovers before you did.” “Bitch, don’t bring me into this.” Nick chimed in. “Real.” You agreed.

“Let’s just move on!” Your boyfriend suggested as he lifted his arms up. “What is like dating a triplet?” He asked. “It’s not that much from dating a regular guy, apart from the fact that either one of these kids is following him everywhere ━━ mostly Chris ━━“ which earned a “what?” from the guy “━━ and sometimes I’ll like . . . steal a sweater or some sweats or something from Matt and then I’ll just be on the couch and one of the boys will come in and be like “I’ve been looking for that” and it gets confusing.” You laughed. “But besides some of those confusions, it’s like dating a guy and having two best friends that come with him.” “A package deal.” Nick agrees. You snapped your fingers at him, “yes. Exactly like that. And it’s so fun. It can get annoying, but what’s any kind of relationship if you don’t get annoyed?” “Yeah guys. I may be annoying, but you still like me.” Chris jumped in. “Yeah, sometimes I doubt that.” “Me too.” The other brothers agreed. “That was so inspiring.” Nick said. “Thank you.” You did a fake bow in your seat.

“You also help keep the house clean since you practically live over at our house.” Matt added. “I do, I do. I literally have clothes and my skincare shit at you house. And a toothbrush ━━”

“━━ And a toothbrush.” Matt said at the same time. “It’s convient for sleepovers!” Nick explained. “And also because you do just live here. There have been so many times where I’ve knocked on Matt’s door and then opened it and Matt’s just playing games while you’re chilling in his bed.” You nodded, shrugging. It was true. “Dude ━━ I have gone to wake up Matt for the day and I won’t even notice she’s there until I hear her move or some shit cause she’s all up under the blankets. Surprised you’re even under the blankets with Mr. Blanket stealer over here.” Chris points to Matt as Nick nodded his head and you laughed.

“I just tug em’ back. Or he just grabs me. This kid . . . I swear it’s like I’m never close enough.” “I just run hot you’re always cold.” Matt retaliated. “You run hot because you steal all the blankets!” Nick yelled. “I feel sorry for Chris every time you guys have to share a bed.” “Do you really though?” The boy in question asked. “. . . Not really, no. I like my blankets. Maybe you can teach him to share Y/n.” “I will certainly try.”

“And she can teach you fuckers to clean,” Matt retorted, “every time I go into your room it’s like I am walking through a morgue.” After he finished there was a “hey!” from Chris and a “that’s not true!” from Nick. “Keep me out of this.” You held your hands up in defense. “I will clean what I need to.” “She’s like a second mom.” Chris compared. “Don’t say that. That’s weird.” Matt muttered into the mic. “Yeah, this is like the same argument as the use of mommy and daddy.” Nick agreed. “Now, you just made it weird,” Chris pointed at Nick. “How about we move on so we can stop this from getting even weirder.” Matt clapped his hands.

“Yes. Next question. You watch our videos I would assume?” Nick asked. “Of course, who would I be if I didn’t?” You replied. “Period.” Chris replied. Nick gave him a side eye, “anyway . . . How do you feel that people are writing fan fiction about your boyfriend?” You covered your mouth with your hand. “What?” Matt asked, looking scared. “You guys are going to hate me for this.” You spoke. “You didn’t make one about Matt did you?” Chris joked. “No! I wasn’t that weird. But a canon event in every girls childhood ━━ and I mean every single one - was writing or at least reading fan fiction. Brittany Broski is so real for talking about it. Me? It was the guy who played in Doctor Who. The 2000s one.” “David Tennant?” “Yes. I was an avid Wattpad user. You could catch me on there every fucking day dude. I think I still have my account.”

A scream filled the room as everyone looked at Nick. “We have to find it and go through it. But . . . I still can’t believe you used Wattpad.” “Dude, ask any mentally unstable female girl and I promise you, she will tell you she did. I don’t use it anymore, but I was obsessed.” “Are the videos awkward to you because you used to write shit or no?” Chris jumped in. “A little bit. I mean, it must feel weird getting fan fiction written about anyone. But I think because I’ve been in that spot and writing it that I understand a bit more,” you admitted, “the videos are great ━━ like every video of yours is - and it’s so funny to see your reaction.” “We need to bring you sometime if you’re up for it.” Matt suggested. “Maybe?” You shrugged, dragging the word out. “It would be super funny.” Nick commented. “Oh for sure, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to that phase in my life.” You grimaced.

“Hashtag trauma.” Chris responded. “Please never say that again,” Nick murmured. Matt agreed with a “that was so cringey.” “Really though,” you laughed, “you get it.” Chris got up from his seat and high-fived you. “Have you guys ever read fan fiction outside of filming?” “Oh, switcharoo question. I mean, I have to check and find stories and make sure we don’t get demonetized. I don’t know about these two.” Nick answered first. “I haven’t, but I find it weird that Matt has wattpad downloaded . . . And that he asked people to send some to him.” Chris spoke. “It’s not like that!” Matt yelled, putting his face in his shirt. “Matt, honey. It’s fine.” You joked. “Oh my god.” His voice was muffled from the sweatshirt.

“Is that how you got into reading like . . . Actual books?” Nick asked you. “Not really. I’ve been a reader since I learned to read, but it probably had some effect on my reading.” You responded. “I read a lot now, too. Like if you guys are filming I’ll just hangout im Matt’s room or something and read.” “She’s always reading.” Matt said into the mic. “No actually. We could be getting picked up by Matt and this kid is in the passenger seat with a book in her hand. How can you even read in the car?” Chris blurted. “I actually don’t get car sick. I think I’ve been car sick once. I sleep in the car too. And I have the best naps in the car. It’s just something puts me to sleep. I’m not sure what.” You explain. “But yeah, I do read a good amount. I’ve got Matt to read a little too. Chris would you ever read?” “Probably not,” he answered,” just have too much going on. And no offence, but if I have time off I’m not going to sit down and read. There’s so many other things I could do.” You nodded your head, “to each their own.” “I’ll like nap or something. I feel like we’re all avid nappers.” Chris asked.

“No, totally. I love napping.” Matt answered. “Me too.” Nick agreed. “I’ll only get up if I have to.” “I’ll only get up if Y/n gets up or if Chris wakes me up. There’s not a lot that will get me up. Except if I need to pee or we have something that day.” Matt added on. “It’s true,” you nodded, “he will not let me go. And if I get up, he will get up and pull me to the couch if I’m not already on it and just lay there.” Your boyfriend nodded. “Hey, at least you have a personal pillow.” Chris added on. You nodded again. “You should by lucky? You know how many girls would want Chris to do that?” The blonde boy continued. Chris made a weird face. “Hey guys, make a fan fiction about it.” Matt looked at the camera. “No!” Chris yelled, slapping Matt’s finger that was pointing to the camera. “I’m just kidding, I don’t really care as long as they’re not super weird and gross.” “Cheers to that.” Nick agreed.

“On this note, I think we should wrap it up.” Nick announced. “That was today’s episode, it was amazing. Everyone thank Y/n for coming on the podcast.” Chris faced you, speaking into the mic. “It was an absolute pleasure. I would love to come back if you would have me.” You thanked them. “Of course. We won’t let you leave.” The blonde boy joked. “Just kidding, but still, thank you for coming on and we will see you guys next time. Bye!” Everyone waved to the different cameras before it showed you in your seat with Matt sitting next to you. “He’s secretly clingy.” You said before the camera shut off.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone… 

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did. 

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right. 

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched. 

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny. 

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks. 

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then? 

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

[starlightsalvatore]

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

i'm back !!! I needed to write a damon one-shot while I work on a new fic and this just tumbled right out of me lol

hunger / damon salvatore x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: everything??? drinking, swearing, blood sharing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p-in-v, a tiny bit of degradation?? this is self indulgant filth, seriously 18+ mdni

You ran a hand through your hair as you walked back and forth, unsure of what else to do with the restless energy surging through your system as you tried to fight one of your most basic, primal urges… hunger. Your fingers drummed against your thigh as you tried to focus on anything else, find something in your brain worth occupying your mind and switching course from the visuals running through your head. Your recent transition had been a shock to everyone, and Stefan had you on a tight leash to keep you in check… and you’d been on board, at first. You never wanted to cause harm, to be the reason someone else’s life ended, but with the itch in your veins threatening to undo you completely you couldn’t really find it in you to care anymore.

You heard your door push open and your head snapped up to see Damon walking in, two glasses and a bottle in his hand with an unamused expression, “if you don’t knock it off I’m going to have to replace the floor,” he said, setting everything on the dresser before pouring two generous cups of bourbon. 

“Not now, Damon,” you sighed, ignoring him entirely as your feet remained on course.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked and you shook your head.

“Not really,” you said as he shoved a glass in your hand, his eyes telling you to drink which you did… all in one gulp and he was a little surprised as he took it to refill. 

“Well, something’s gotta give,” he replied as you finished the second as quickly as the first. “At this rate the bottle will be gone in a minute and I’m not replacing original flooring.” He gripped your shoulders, halting your movements and you huffed, looking up at him.

“I’m hungry, Damon,” you said, as if it pained you to do so and he furrowed his brow.

“The freezer is full- oh,” he cut himself off, realizing that’s not what you meant as a smirk spread across his features. “You want your blood at 98.6,” he said and you rolled your eyes, pushing him off you.

“Will you cut it out?” You poured another glass, hoping at some point the alcohol would subdue your cravings but you knew that was about as likely as him leaving you alone, so you tried another angle. “I can’t… Damon, the blood bags aren’t doing it for me, I can’t think, I can’t sleep… will you please take me out?” For a moment you thought he’d say yes, revel in the opportunity to feed with abandon with someone else, but it wasn’t that easy.

“No can do, sweetheart,” he replied and your brows pinched. “I’ve got enough on my plate without you losing control and giving me more bodies to deal with.” He was right, there was too much going on and you spinning out wasn’t an option, but that didn’t make it any easier of an answer to tolerate. He gave you a once over, it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to take you out… he would have loved to, but you were new and he knew you could eventually get to where he was, one day you’d be able to feed and leave them alive with no memory of what had happened, but that day wasn’t today, you had a long way to go and he couldn’t afford to have you slip up.

But… he couldn’t afford to have you slip up. One look told him you were wound tight, the diet Stefan had you on was restrictive, never enough to fully satisfy, and the less you drank the tighter you spun, threatening a catastrophic snap he could only assume was looming on the horizon with how frustrated you looked right now. He ran through his options, knowing letting you sit in this hunger any longer would result in a much bigger problem, but the only thing he could think of posed another set of issues and would lead to him teetering on the edge instead of you.

He let out a sigh, closing the distance between you and plucking the glass from your hands to discard on the dresser and you looked up at him questioningly, the invasion of space catching you by surprise. His normally bright eyes were dark and swimming with something you couldn’t understand, deep blue pools you found yourself getting lost in as you waited for him to say something. “You need to feed,” he said and your eyes fluttered shut just at the thought.

“I need to feed,” you whispered and he nodded, catching your chin between his fingers and forcing your head back up when you tried to look down and the action had your breath catching somewhere in your throat. 

“You still haven’t felt it, have you?” he asked, voice low and you shuddered. “What it’s like to sink your teeth into something…” you shook your head, Stefan hadn’t allowed you to drink anything that didn’t come from a cup. “Poor thing,” he chuckled, he could feel the tension radiating off you in waves, you were practically shaking beneath him as you fought to retain your grip on your sanity, on your control.

“Damon,” you sighed, eyes pleading and he just smiled as he gripped your hand and brought it up to his neck, the pulse beneath your fingers driving you wild. 

“When you feed you have to be careful… if you bite just along here,” he said, dragging your fingers along the vein, “you can control the flow. It doesn’t have to be messy,” he explained and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the subtle way his skin moved with each beat of his heart, the sight bringing the veins beneath your eyes to the surface, your fangs descending.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, noticing you trying to rein it in, and you were having a hard time focusing on anything with the way his hands were trailing up your arms, pulling you closer. “Go on,” he tilted his head just slightly, “give it a try.” he encouraged and this pulled your focus, eyes snapping to his as you tried to ascertain if he was being serious. You had a lot left to learn, but blood sharing was personal, and you knew that… but all you saw in those dark blue eyes was a fire simmering beneath the surface you were sure was a mirror image of your own.

You slowly reached onto your tiptoes, as if he were a deer in the woods threatening to startle and bolt, but the closer you got the harder it was to resist, anticipation burning through your veins at the prospect of giving in. Your fangs were tentative as they broke the skin just where he’d indicated, but the first drop of blood immediately made you feel dizzy and intoxicated… It wasn't enough. You quickly grew feverish, your hand wrapping around his throat as you surged forward, crashing into the wall behind you and he let out a grunt as his back collided with the hard surface, pinned in place as you fed.

“There you go… that’s it,” he said, leaning back as he relaxed and let you take what you needed. His arm snaked around your waist while a hand brushed the hair from your face, cradling the back of your head as warm blood radiated through your body. A soft groan fell from his lips as you drank from him, and the sound elicited an unexpected reaction from you, your hand tightening around his throat and your body pushing flush against his and despite everything in you telling you to continue, you forced yourself back knowing if you didn’t stop you’d bleed him dry. 

Your eyes were wild and satisfied as they met his, and he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the remnants and you were almost surprised when your lips wrapped around him, ensuring you didn’t waste a single drop. His smirk returned when he felt your tongue slide across his skin, “better?” he asked and you nodded, keeping him in your mouth for maybe a second longer than you needed to. The air was charged between you, you’d just crossed a line in the sand and you wanted to push a little further, go a little farther… 

Part of him knew he should put an end to this… stop before it went any further. He knew it before he’d even offered up a vein for you, he knew as soon as he did he’d be teetering on this ledge and he didn’t have that much self control when it came to you. Perhaps, if he really analyzed the situation, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind why you’d been so worked up, he knew what you needed and instead of letting you wreak havoc on the blood cooler he let you push him against a wall and take what you wanted, he let you feed from him in the most intimate way he could think of. 

And when you were looking up at him like that, eyes mischievous and holding an unspoken challenge with his blood still on your plump lips, who was he to resist? Your chest was heaving with anticipation as you waited for him to do something, anything, and the movement was so fast you almost didn’t register his hand curling around your throat, flipping you around and slamming you against the wall with such force you were sure you’d be dead if you were human. Your gasp of surprise was swallowed by his mouth on yours, searing and frenzied as he connected your lips and kissed you with a hunger that rivaled your own only moments ago. 

You both fought for dominance, neither one of you willing to submit just yet but you were outmatched… he grabbed your wandering hands and pinned them above your head, grip so tight you whined as he kissed down your neck, biting into you the same way you’d done with him and you couldn’t help the moan that fell from your lips as he did. Your hips rolled forward and feeling his hardening length against you gave you the surge of confidence you needed to break your hands free, sliding down his chest to pull his shirt apart, buttons flying and clattering against the floor as you pushed the fabric over his shoulders. 

His lips were greedy across the expanse of your chest as he nipped and sucked the soft skin, tearing your shirt to shreds as he pulled it from you, a mess of fabric in your wake as you surged forward and pushed him into the wall opposite you, regaining your upper hand. Glass shattered on the floor around you as the force rattled the dresser but you couldn’t find it in you to care what had broken as your hands pulled his belt free, fingers quickly undoing the button as you sank to the floor and pulled his jeans with you.

His length stood erect in front of you and you were quick to take him in your mouth, focusing your tongue on his swollen tip as your hand worked what didn’t fit, and you couldn’t help but moan around him at the groan that fell from his lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed, his sweet words undercut by the harsh hand in your hair gripping and pulling you closer, forcing you to gag around him and the sensation had his head falling back against the wall. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sharp pain in your scalp and the way he was hitting the back of your throat, but all you could focus on was the throbbing between your thighs and he didn’t miss the way you clenched them together, desperate for friction. 

You were quickly on your back, too caught up in the moment to bother moving to the bed and you pushed glass aside as he settled between your legs, tearing your underwear off and diving in like a man starved and you could feel his smirk against you at your surprised moan, head hitting the floor as your back arched in pleasure. He switched between your clit and your entrance, not giving either attention long enough to give you what you really needed, and you whined as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging harshly.

“Damon, please,” you sighed, hips bucking against his face and he focused his attention on your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue expertly working you up as you shamelessly moaned his name. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew with the way you kept slamming each other against walls and the floor, the breaking glass, and the sounds falling from both your lips someone might come to make sure you were alright, but you couldn’t find it in you to care… not when he felt as good as he did between your legs. 

Your moan changed in pitch when he slid two fingers into your entrance and it went straight to his cock, his head swimming as he watched you come close to falling apart above him. When he crooked his fingers just so your grip in his hair tightened, pulling him closer as you started to grind against him, “fuck, just like-” you were cut off by your own moan when he started massaging that spot inside you, legs trembling as you careened off the ledge. His touches remained merciless as pure euphoria surged through your veins, your head cloudy as your body trembled. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he muttered against you, kissing his way up your body and you tugged him closer to reconnect your lips, tongues swirling against each other as you tasted yourself on him. His hands felt greedy and possessive as they roamed over you, gripping tight enough to leave bruises that would heal before they even had a chance to form, and it was as if neither of you could get enough. You pushed forward, tugging him up with you and all but throwing him onto the bed and his smirk was devilish as he watched you crawl on top of him.

He looked like he was about to say something but you didn’t give him the opportunity as you kissed him, rough and demanding as your hips settled above his, hand reaching between you to line him up at your entrance and you both let out groans as you took him inch by inch. The stretch was sweet, filling you almost to your breaking point as you settled fully and started to roll your hips against him, shuddering at the feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned as you started to bounce up and down, setting an unforgiving pace and you felt like you could feel him everywhere, every nerve ending radiating with fire. He sat up to wrap his arms around you, hips bucking to meet yours in a way that had your head rolling back and he took the opportunity to sink his teeth into your neck and you had never felt pleasure like this before. His hand was firm around your throat as your body shook with each thrust and soon you were boneless in his lap, only able to hold yourself upright as he drank you in. 

When he pulled back you licked along his lips, face changing at the taste of blood and he swore he’d never seen anything sexier. Neither of you was going to last much longer, not like this, and he delivered a rough smack to your ass that had you whining and rolling against him. “Oh my god,” you breathed out, letting your forehead fall against his and he smacked again, gripping the tender skin, “Damon-” you tried, but nothing would come out.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he teased, gripping your hair and pulling you back to look at him, “oh, look at you… all cock drunk and fucked out,” he teased and you had nothing to say as a firm thrust had you seeing stars. You buried your face in his neck, fangs sinking into his skin as you felt your release barreling towards you, the mixture of blood and his steady thrusts too much to bear and a streak of red trailed down your body as you came, only able to shout his name as you cried out.

Your grip on him was maddening, pulling him right over the edge with you as you milked him for everything he had, and when you both slowed to a stop you were having a hard time catching your breath, your mind floating somewhere above you as you tried to return to your body. You felt his tongue along your chest, cleaning up your mess as you leaned back and he tried to commit the sight to memory… your hair wild, cheeks flushed, and skin dewy as blood lingered along your skin. 

You still weren’t fully with him, stuck in a haze as you felt him whisk you into his bedroom, and into the bathroom and it wasn’t until you were under the stream of water with him that you hummed contently against his lips as he kissed you softly, “there she is,” he chuckled.

His hands were delicate as they roamed you, and yours slid down the front of his chest as you looked up at him, doe eyed and happy. “That was…” you trailed off, unsure of what word to use to fully sum it up and he placed another soft kiss on your lips.

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” he provided and you laughed as you swatted his chest. 

“Hush,” you replied, feigning annoyance but you didn’t have it in you to feel anything other than bliss. The rest of your shower was spent with wandering hands and sweet kisses, a stark contrast to how rough and domineering you’d been with each other and when he pulled you into bed and wrapped himself around you, you looked up at him as your fingers trailed along his chest absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, and you flushed slightly under his gaze.

“It was more than I dreamed of,” you answered, and he raised a brow in question. “I haven’t… I hadn’t done that since turning, I didn’t know it could be like that,” you explained and realization passed over his features.

“My god,” he chuckled, “no wonder you were wound so tight.” His hand on your back was comfortable, holding you tight against him as he rubbed soothingly, “we’ll go on a little trip this weekend,” he said as you rested your head on his chest.

“A trip?” 

You felt him nod, “away from all the chaos here… we’ll find you some warm bodies and I’ll teach you how to do it the right way, you don’t have to live a life of blood bags forever.” 

“I don’t know, you seemed to do the trick,” you teased and he laughed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’re missing.” 

[schrodingerscougar]

Part two for this one. I'm sorry for the cliffhanger in the first part. The illustration is from the amazing @ave661 .

--

Four months. That’s how much time it took Simon to get out of that hazy fugue state. He didn’t really remember what he had gone through during that time, his brain switched to autopilot after the breakup. He often wondered why it affected him this much when he didn’t even love you. You were just someone he spent time with, someone he tried to play house with for a short while to feel normal.

Still, now as he lay on his bed, watching the ceiling fan rotate to stir up the hot air in the room, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He even found himself opening a social media app to search for your name from a fake account he had set up a long time ago, and he was shocked to see the most recent photo of you. It was impossible to miss the unmistakable shape of a baby bump under your shirt, and based on its size, you got pregnant long months ago.

When he was finally allowed to go home for a short while, Simon went to see you. He knew he had hurt you, he knew you were probably still mad at him, but he had to know if it was his child. It only happened one time. One night when he tried to fix things by giving you what you wanted, hoping sex could make him see you in another light. Maybe he would finally want you the way you always wanted him to want you. But it didn’t work, and it was after that night he made the final decision to end things with you.

“What do you want?” you asked him when you opened the door.

Simon nodded as he bit the inside of his cheek. This cold welcome was fair enough, he deserved this kind of treatment. Normally, he would have left you alone. But normally, you would have told him you were pregnant.

So he silently pointed at your belly and waited for you to realize what he wanted. He knew you weren't dumb, the pieces would fall into place in a second. And sure enough, you let out a sigh then opened the door wider to let him in.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked you as he stood in the kitchen next to you with his arms crossed.

You were busy making him a cup of tea, but you took the time to silently shrug. When he let out a heavy sigh, you looked over at him and said, “I didn't think you'd care, Si. Simple as that.”

You were right. He didn't care. Even now that he was looking at you, his eyes occasionally moving to the bump that hid his own blood, his mind was somewhere else. He was a soldier, he knew how to take responsibility for his actions. You getting pregnant was his fault too. He couldn't just ignore the problem.

“I’ll pay child support,” he assured you.

“No need.”

Simon reached out to put a hand on the base of your neck, but you quickly pushed his hand away before he could touch your skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

You inhaled through your nose and held your breath in for a few seconds before finally exhaling. “So what? You’re gonna be around and help us? Take her to a doctor’s appointment or for a stroll around the block?” When you saw him looking down at his shoes, you couldn’t help but snort. “Thought so,” you said.

“I’ll better get going. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Months flew by, but Simon barely noticed. He was on a mission again far from home, risking his life as usual. You never called and he didn’t force it. He accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of making this happen. Since you didn’t want to accept child support, he opened a bank account where he stored that money, hoping that one day he could give it to you or his daughter when she became old enough.

One day he checked your social media accounts like he had done a few times before, just to see how you were. This is when he saw the post in which you announced the arrival of your baby girl. He didn’t make a big deal out of it at first. She was born and she would probably ask about her father one day. If he was still alive then, he would gladly give her a toned down explanation. If not… Well, he left everything to her in his will.

Eventually he began to save the photos of his daughter and he often found himself looking at them. She was adorable, some of her features resembling his own. Her big brown eyes were definitely his; the color and the shape were both so familiar to him.

No one from the team knew about this part of his life. He had never told anyone, because why would he? They were close, they were his brothers, but you and your daughter were carefully guarded secrets in his life. Simon knew the real reason why he never talked about you; he was afraid of the judgmental looks and words.

Two months later, when he entered his apartment again after another round of deployment, Simon didn't really know what to do with himself. He ended up looking at his daughter's photos more and more often and eventually he made up his mind to give her a visit. It had absolutely nothing to do with you. He was doing this for the little girl.

You weren't welcoming but, once again, he couldn't blame you. “I just want to see my daughter,” he said softly, hoping the two of you could avoid fighting.

For long moments you were cautiously watching him, as if you were trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. But then your eyes fell on the big teddy bear he was holding with one hand and you let out a sigh of defeat.

On the way to the nursery, you didn't talk at all. The silence didn't bother him, but still he would have appreciated some words about the little girl he was about to meet. Was he allowed to pick her up? Did she like to be held? How was she? Did she have stomach ache often? Were she teething?

“Be quick,” you warned him when you stopped by her crib.

Simon let out a sigh. “Come on, don't be like that.”

You just rolled your eyes at him before taking a step back to lean your shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded over your chest, eyes watching his every move like a hawk. He found it a little too much, he hated that you didn't trust him. Sure, he hadn't given you many reasons to trust him, but for the sake of your daughter you should have tried.

With a sigh, he rested an elbow on the side of the crib and reached out to touch the baby as gently as he could with his other hand. His own flesh and blood. It was amazing, really. Without asking for permission, he picked her up and couldn't help but smile when the baby smiled at him.

Now that he was holding her close to his body, placing soft kisses on her head every so often, Simon couldn't deny that he already loved his daughter. There was an invisible string between them, something that brought her closer to him that anyone has ever been.

The baby giggled suddenly and it brought an even wider smile to Simon’s face. He could only hope you would let him see her as often as he could visit, but something told him it wouldn't be easy to convince you.

“She likes you,” you suddenly noted.

He put down the little girl then turned to you. “The feeling's mutual.” A faint smile appeared on your lips. “Can I see her some other time?” You nodded. “Thank you. If I can help with anything, just give me a call or send a message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can,” he offered.

You been to walk out of the room and he quietly followed you, waiting for you to say something. He didn't really know what he was expecting to hear, but he had a feeling you were holding back something. And sure enough, after a few minutes of silence you began to talk, scolding him for not even bothering to send at least a text to ask about her before suddenly showing up.

“I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd read them.”

“I'm mad at you, that's true,” you agreed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe as he watched you pace in the living room like a caged animal. He remembered those nights he had spent thinking about on deployment, the moment he saw that photo of you, and he realized that maybe he was missing you.

But how could he miss someone he didn't even love? Or had he developed feelings for you, feelings he tried to hide even from himself? It was way too confusing for him, and he didn't like to be confused. It was a weakness on the field and in his civilian life.

“I should go. If you need anything–”

You came to a halt, turned to him and nodded. “I know where to find you. But can I ask you something?” Simon motioned you to go on. “Why now? Why did you become interested in her all of a sudden?”

He let out a thoughtful hum as he put his hand on the back of his neck. “I saw the photos, how much she looks like me, and… I don't know.” You took a few steps closer to him, but you still kept a comfortable distance. “I've been saving money for her. I want to give you access to that bank account.”

“I don't need your money,” you were quick to say.

“It's for her. Please, accept it.”

You became mad at him, accusing him of assuming you couldn't take care of your daughter you'd been raising on your own from day one. He knew there was no point in defending himself, you were too lost in the hate you felt for him. So he just waited there in silence, letting you finish your speech.

Then, the moment you seemingly finished, he closed the gap between the two of you. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed his instinct when he leaned down and kissed you. This was probably the first time he truly enjoyed kissing you, and it helped a lot that you were quick to return it.

Maybe this was why he wanted to come here today. To fix things. To try to get a family he'd been craving ever since he lost his own.

(part three)

[caitlinsclark]

CASUAL caitlin clark ¹ 𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 | summary: it was always casual for Caitlin. based on casual by chappell roan. ✰ bree's notes: Couldn’t get myself to fully write smut bc I feel like I’d tank at that  ✰ No ACTUAL smut but alludes/briefly talks about it so, read at your own discretion!

part two wc: 3.1k masterlist and tag list

“I just don’t get why you keep doing this to yourself,” Kate was the voice of reason that you didn’t wanna face in the midst of your recklessness. And it sucked that you knew if you should be listening to anyone, it was her. She was Caitlin’s best friend and she only wanted the best for you as a teammate.

But she’d caught you in the act and had to give you tough love, “You’re going to go see her, aren’t you?” And you didn’t have the heart to lie anymore, though the shame building up in your stomach was far worse than the guilt of lying.

“You don’t have to tell me, Kate, I know,” You pleaded in attempt to get out of the repetitive conversation. It still brought up the sick feeling each time you faced it, the truth always hurts.

As a genuine friend, she tried to push harder, “She’s not that commitment person, and she doesn’t see you anymore than the physical things you two have been doing.” In a few months you knew you would thank her for the brutality of her words, but you couldn’t now when all you craved was the brunette that didn’t want you back.

“I don’t believe that.” The words were defiant, childish, and simply an act of denial and not even you believed them. But you so desperately wanted to believe that Caitlin saw you as more than that, you were teammates, you were friends. You always believed at some point the lines would blur for her the same way that they did for you.

But Kate, the guiding light that tried to wake you up from your Caitlin induced daydream, reminded you of the words from the direct source, “It’s casual, remember?” She said your name afterward with such sympathy, hating to be the bearer of bad news.

Embarrassment floods your veins as you remember the scene Kate had witnessed herself yesterday when you had been getting ready to head out with Caitlin.

You were balancing on one foot near the doorway as you tried to put on one of your shoes. You were surprised by a warm graze against your waist, until Caitlin’s hands slide down and settled to firmly hold your hips. She’d squeezed you when you murmured a small thank you and continued putting your shoes on.

“Cute,” Kate quipped as she passed by the door and the two of you, heading up the stairs. You didn’t think anything much of it and continued to put your sneaker on.

Caitlin abruptly released your middle, leaving you hitting somewhat aggressively against the wall next to you. You couldn’t stop the way your eyes glued to her, you wouldn’t believe it if you didn’t see her reaction for yourself.

The laugh that Caitlin let out was dismissive and light, “We’re not together.” She was able to look right at you, the amused expression remaining on her face all while you felt your resolve crumbling. You felt like a fucking fool, all that just to wish you’d looked away.

The assertive correction felt like a jab to the heart, but the quick realization that she was right cut through deeper for a second time. Sadly, you were quick to forget the slight offense. At least a slight offense is what you  tried to tell yourself it was, when you were lead outside by Caitlin.

Her hands were everywhere on your skin as soon as you got into the comfort of her car, trailing tenderly up every inch of your body to rest on your neck. 

“Someone could see, Cait,” You tried to stop her hand as it fought to go lower, breaking at the way her eyes stared down at your connected bodies.

You expected her to agree, considering the recent insistence on your casual nature. What you didn’t expect was for her to slide onto her knees, considering it was slightly difficult and crammed due to her stature, but she wasn’t deterred.

Minutes later, you were left gasping with a bruising grip in her hair. A sheen on both of your skins as the windows of the car fogged up and hid you both from the secrecy of your rendezvous. 

The way she caressed your leg, a loving gaze glued onto you as she tried to slowly bring you down from the intense feeling, “You alright, baby?” She kissed the skin of your thigh, maintaining eye contact as she did so.

It didn’t feel casual. The way she gently and carefully pushed herself up to kiss you with a tenderness you’d never experienced didn’t feel casual. But all you could do was nod, breathless for more reasons than one.

You’d slipped out the door of your dorm with nothing more to say, because Kate wasn’t incorrect and you had to give her that. Caitlin wasn’t the right choice by any means and you would be the one getting burned eventually. But the thought of being burned in the end was less harrowing than the thought of letting go of Caitlin completely.

On the short stride over to her dorm, you began reminiscing over the last few months that you’d been playing this game of cat and mouse. 

The first time was a punch to the gut that you always fought to push to the back your mind. It was midday and you’d felt a certain pull toward the kitchen, maybe hunger, maybe just intuition. Whatever got you there was looking out for you when you caught a brief mention of your name before entering the doorway.

You paused with purpose, leaning against the wall to hear better.

“Jada, it’s casual.” Caitlin’s voice was full of exasperation and you swallowed down the emotion threatening to push out when she sighed. She was right, you were casual.

So you took a deep breath, pretending it would make the scene disappear in your mind and trailed back upstairs. At least you knew where the two of you stood, that helped.

But that fact didn’t stop you from letting yourself fall further and further. Though ‘letting yourself’ was a generous way to put it considering there was never a choice.

The second memory was a beginning catalyst into an area of intimacy the two of you had never reached before. You swore the whole ‘no attachments’ thing had been thrown out the window. Caitlin had brought you home to her family, using an excuse that you had to try her mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies. The ones that inspired her to play a better game, not dramatic at all.

Apparently they weren’t at their full potential unless they were fresh and you just had to understand the hype she had around them.

You weren’t in any mood to oppose when Caitlin had her pretty brown eyes glimmering at you hopefully, the smallest of pouts forming on her lips at the thought of your denial.

She could get just about anything she wanted out of that face. And sadly she knew it for sure when you agreed embarrasingly fast.

When you guys had arrived at the beautiful home, she carried your bags with a loud protest of, “pretty people can’t do labor, silly.” You wanted to let the compliment soar through you and ignite a spark, but you were scared to let it get that far. Scared to read into this when she had clearly said something so different to some of your friends.

But upon being in the comfortable environment of her home, you got a glimpse at the goofy side of her personality coming out. It had made you see her in her full light, painting a beautiful image of the well rounded girl you had the honor of meeting the parents of.

Brent and Anne had welcomed you with open arms, something that Caitlin stood directly by your side for. She was almost glued to you once her parents let you go, greedily holding your waist to keep you close to her in a protective manor.

Her parents shared a specific look, one you’d seen too many times recently when you spent time with Caitlin. Ones she always somehow ignored, but you indulged in, some toxic part of you that held onto the idea that she could reciprocate.

The third time was a final push that not even your wildest dreams would’ve predicted as a possibility. Caitlin, the same girl who most definitely seemed offended at the insinuation of any relationship with you, eagerly showed your face when her mother FaceTimed her. 

The excitement in Caitlin’s voice had you wanting to jump on her right there, “Here she is!” She leaned her entire body weight onto you in order to fit you both in the frame but you would never complain. Even if it did restrict your breathing.

Her mom grinned at the adorable picture of her daughter beaming in your presence, going as far as to take a screenshot to later send to Caitlin. The brunette had saved it to her phone immediately upon receiving but only hearted the message in response.

“I wanted to ask if the two of you wanted to come to the house on Long Beach for a few days,” She proposed with an air of charisma just like her daughter, “Everyone wanted to see you guys again, especially me.” If she had a hidden agenda of pestering you two about making it official that was nobody’s business but her own.

You had hesitated, glancing over at Caitlin for a reason to decline and were almost heart warmed to find her staring back at you with an encouraging smile.

You tried to find the most diplomatic answer there was, “Uh, if Caitlin wants me there. Of course, I’d love to.” You felt like you were completely failing to hide your nervousness as you shifted but still felt utterly distracted by Caitlin’s body heat encompassing you.

“Why wouldn’t I want you there?” The words came out so smooth, natural like she didn’t even have to think about them. You began to feel more flustered as she started rubbing your hand affectionately to soothe the intensity of the question.

You two had spent most of the trip hidden up in the comfort of your room, basking in the rare privacy of Long Beach. But you were brutally awaken with a cold return once you got back to Indiana, probably one that should’ve been expected.

This game of cat and mouse would never end. A light misting blurred your eyes when you started to realize that you were both toxically chasing one another, but not for the same reasons.

A hopeful part of you had built Caitlin up to an unreachable image in your mind. Not an unattainable one, but by her choice it was unreachable.

The resentment in your heart built rapidly as you turned things over and over in your head. Resentment for her or yourself, you really couldn’t tell.

It took a few long minutes to work up the courage to approach her door, but maybe something was looking out for you again. If you’d gone any earlier you were sure your heart might’ve just left your chest in agony.

The scene before you was bad enough when you only caught the end of it.

You’d watched as the door of her dorm room opened in front of you only an inch, a slight startle as another girl exited, adjusting her askew skirt and hair haphazardly. It was like looking in a brutally honest mirror as shock covered her features at being in caught.

“Oh, sorry!” She blushed, and you hated that you got a sense of deja vu, “I was just leaving.”

Awe couldn’t keep itself off your face, was any part of what you did meaningful? Even an ounce? Your eyes squeeze shut, wishing that it would take away the current resentment building up in you.

A pained laugh left your lips and you nodded, “Yeah, me too.” You had turned to walk in the direction you’d come in from when the door swung back open.

Caitlin had heard your voice from inside her dorm, a small drop in her stomach as she saw you practically ready to run away and knew you hoped she hadn’t seen you.

The brunette looked in between the two of you, an annoyingly calm persona that had you seething as you breathed out slowly. 

A nod was exchanged between the two, a subtle hint toward what had just went down. God, you needed a bucket if this was gonna continue. The walking image of your regrets disappeared down the hallway, leaving you and Caitlin alone.

You continued to walk toward the exit but she grabbed your wrist gently, overpowering you slightly but not aggressively.

“Let go,” you breathed out in exhaustion, this mental game feeling like such a loss now. You had no more fouls left in you, game over.

“Nothing’s wrong, can’t we just have a good night?” The words of a smooth talker, the ones you always fell for. And you started to fall for it as you let her lead you back into her dorm.

“That doesn’t sit right with me, Cait.” You tried to assert yourself weakly but the grip your hands had on her arms didn’t do much to sway her. The power left your body the second she entered your proximity.

Her hands slowly reached out for your cheeks and you didn’t pull away, though your head screamed at you to. You couldn’t find it in you to pull away as she slowly leaned toward your lips. 

With more than enough chances to tear yourself away, make her work harder for it, you still welcomed the feeling as you melted into her.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered against your lips, a sweet promise that almost had your mind willingly bringing her back in. There had to be something in the air that poisoned you like a drug every time she came around.

But the apology only made the last few minutes painfully real in your mind. The arm around your waist suddenly made you feel trapped instead of protected, the hand on your face feeling repetitive instead of breathtakingly new. How much had she reused on these other girls?

You pushed back slowly from her hold, the usual warmth she caused feeling like a brutal wake up call. Knowing that she was doing the same thing just moments before in this exact position made you want to fall over into a ball.

“You’re making this difficult.” Caitlin bluntly addressed your issue, crossed her arms over her chest to close herself off, “You’re making this really difficult, actually.”

“Cait, I’m not trying to,” The immediate crack in your voice that you’d been holding in for the last few months now made you wince as you stared up at the ceiling. The tears building up in your waterline made you feel so disgusted with yourself. 

“Baby,” She’d addressed you absentmindedly, hitting another cord in you, “I said no attachments.” She reiterated like clockwork, a now robotic response to your emotional one. You wanted to scream at her to acknowledge anything, show the littlest ounce of empathy. 

“I know,” but the gnawing feeling that stopped you from even looking in her direction right now felt a lot like an unhealthy attachment.

Caitlin stared hard at you, eyes tracing over your features but not in the usual adoring way you currently craved. This was where it finally blew up and you both knew it.

The room stayed quiet and you tried to calm the rapid beat of your heart, knowing this was ending only one way.

“Then what’s going on here?” Caitlin spoke like you were a nuisance and maybe you were, at least these feelings sure felt like it. But there was no world in which you wanted to carry this burden anymore.

She stared at you expectantly, making you shrink back and wipe under your eyes in a moment of insecurity. 

You rubbed the skin of your forehead and croaked in a small voice, “You picked the wrong person to say no attachments too.” A small shrugged followed your words, already embarrassed at the thought of vocalizing your idiocy. What else did you have to lose?

“God,” Caitlin groaned as she took in your overly distraught figure, “I knew this was happening.” She tossed her headband with frustration, as if this was some inconvenience.

Oh, so that’s what you had to lose. The one pitiful ounce of you that believed Caitlin had any sort of care for you, even as little as the bond of teammates.

“What?” It was tiny in comparison to the booming voice the athlete in front of you talked with, full of insecurity and lacking the annoyance as well.

“I knew, I just didn’t wanna talk about it, okay?” She finally revealed, her hands finding home in her pockets. You could tell it was a way to shield herself from the conflict but you were already in too deep.

With a desperate noise you shook your head, trying to find the words, “That’s even worse, Caitlin.” Your breathing picked up and you ran your hands over to sweep your own hair back, trying to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of rejection.

“We’re teammates, I said I didn’t want attachments for a reason.” The nonchalance was evident in how she raised her eyebrows at you, challenging the thought of her having any fault.

“I thought we were at least friends first,” You scoffed and threw your arms up in a moment of agonizing heartbreak, “I thought that you’d at least value my feelings over a meaningless, convenient fuck. But that’s your definition of friendship.” The palms of your hands dug into your eyes, wishing for the tears to stop building. You refused to keep falling apart in comparison to her stoic reaction.

With quick hands you straightened yourself up and took a deep breath to gather your own mind. You turned to look at the brunette one last time who looked like a fish out of water at your change in pace.

“I hate that I let this drag on so long,” You whispered into the fragile environment, knowing that you probably wouldn’t return to it ever again. Caitlin couldn’t bear to look at you now, conveniently, and the final straw was her taking a step back from you.

You continued, “But it’s over and we’re not even going to address this again.” The firm and emotionless tone was a stark contrast to your previous one.

“I,” Her words stopped short, dying in between your now separating bodies. With a staggered step back, you gave her a half hearted smile.

“I’ll see you around, Clark,” You nodded like the words were easy, “casually.” The tiny jab was necessary and fulfilled a petty part of you.

The part of you that knew none of it had been casual.

TAGLIST! @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley @1-800-fantasy

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

HEYYYY! loved your alastor fanfic! since your taking requests, could i get a human alastor x wifey where he comes home after killing someone and she cleans him up? make it really sweet because he’s totally into it pleasee!!!!! thanks youu~~

Taking care - Part One - human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

Hello, anon! Thank you so much for your sweet request <3

Before we dive in, I have a few announcements to make. First, I’m not sure when the next update for the "Out of Darkness" fanfic will be. I’ve been dealing with some overwhelming events in my life recently, which has made it difficult to find the inspiration to write a full chapter. However, I’m hoping to post an update sometime this week.

Second, I’m uncertain about how to handle the taglist for my "Out of Darkness" work. If you’re on that taglist, please let me know if you’d like to be notified about all my Hazbin Hotel posts or just the "Out of Darkness" fanfic. You can let me know in the comments, via DM, or, for an easier and safer option, by filling out the Taglist Google Form)

With that said, I hope you enjoy this post <3

Words: ~2050 TW: mentions of blood and fluff

Coming to terms with who Alastor truly was hasn’t been easy. The night he took you to the basement and revealed his latest victim has lingered in your nightmares ever since.

But if it was for him, he wouldn't have shown you. He didn't want you to enter this world full of violence. Still, it was better than the countless arguments whenever he would come home late at night, acting strange, not knowing how to answer your questions. In fact, he did it because he felt insulted by your accusations - him, who would kill for you, accused of cheating. Pathetic.

That night, he was waiting for you to run, to tell the police, even preparing for the painful scenario in which he'd have to kill you. But you didn't. He couldn’t fathom why you chose to stay, but he would lie if he said he wasn't relieved.

But you did tell him you don't want to know - You didn't want to know who he killed or why. You didn't need that and he respected it.

Alastor did everything in his power to shield you from this part of his world, attempting to protect you from the brutal realities he faced. So whenever he would come home, full of blood, adrenaline rushing through his veins, he would try his best to hide from you.

Usually, when your husband came home, he would make his presence known: humming his favourite songs as he enters the house or immediately telling you about his day, followed by a kiss on your wrist or cheek.

But whenever someone died at his hands, the night would be silent. The way he locked the door behind him ever so slightly or the way he would make his way to the bathroom in the darkness of the house, almost like a cat - that's when you knew to stay away. When you knew not to ask about his day. It's when you knew it was better to just continue preparing the dinner in silence or just fall back asleep, depending on the time, waiting for him to get ready and return to his everyday demeanour. This way, it became easier for you to deal with it.

Tonight was different though.

Alastor burst through the door, a rare sight of raw distress evident in his heavy, laboured breaths. It was clear something had gone terribly wrong. In a rush of adrenaline, you jumped out of bed, rushing to your husband.

"Dear, don't come here, please..." you heard him saying, hissing in pain as he tried to close the door. But you didn't listen. You peeked in the entryway, seeing him sliding down against the door, falling on his knees.

"Love?" you asked, cautiously stepping towards him. "What happened?" You turned on a lamp next to you, your eyes widening at the sight.

Alastor looked up at you with tired eyes, showing the signs of recent violence. His suit was torn in various spots, and his face was swollen and bruised.

"Ah... I didn't want you to see me like this, love," he said, his voice hoarse from pain. He tried to smile, but the effort was half-hearted. He looked down at himself, taking in the state of his battered body.

You got closer, trying your best to help him get up. Alastor stumbled forward, leaning heavily on you as you attempted to support his weight. He let out a pained grunt as you struggled to keep him upright. "Careful, love... I'm not as light as I look," he tried to joke, his breath laboured.

"What happened to you?" you asked, carrying him to the couch, trying your best not to fall. Alastor winced in pain, his body feeling heavier with each step.

"Ah... Just a run-in with some trouble," he replied through gritted teeth. "But I'm alright, love. Don't worry about me too much."

You carefully guided him to the couch, your hands trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his shirt. Beneath the fabric, his body was full of bruises and wounds, each one a stark reminder of the night’s violence. You brushed your hand along his chest, your heart clenching at the sight.

"Who did this, Al?" you asked.

He winced as your fingers grazed over the bruised and battered skin of his chest, the pain still fresh. He attempted to keep his smile, trying to reassure you, but you could see right through his facade.

"It's nothing, really... just a few bumps and bruises," he muttered, his voice strained. "Nothing to fuss about, love."

You started to take off the rest of his clothes, taking advantage of the fact that he was too tired to argue with you. He grumbled under his breath. He had always despised showing weakness, and being cared for like this made him feel vulnerable, a feeling he wasn't used to.

"Love, I don't need your help... I can take care of myself," he insisted, though his voice lacked its usual strength.

"You can't. We need to clean these." Alastor huffed in annoyance but didn't protest further. He knew that when you used that tone, there was no arguing with you.

"Fine, fine... Do as you like," he grumbled, reluctantly submitting to your care.

You made your way to the bathroom, the warm water filling the bathtub. You jumped when Alastor appeared behind you, leaning against the wall, the pain written all over his face.

"You should've waited for me to help you!" you protested.

"Ah, come now love, you worry too much. I'm not made of glass," he said, trying to shrug off your worry. He walked past you, slowly getting into the bathtub. He hissed through clenched teeth as the warm water enveloped his battered body, the stinging sensation intensifying as it touched his open wounds.

You kneeled next to him, Alastor letting out a deep sigh as your hands caressed his battered flesh, the pain mixing with a strange sense of relief. He closed his eyes shut, leaning back against the tub, silently enjoying your care.

"They tried to fight back, didn't they?" you eventually asked, your words coming out no louder than a whisper. You had to admit that a part of you grew more curious with every arrival of his: did they fight? did they beg him to stop? Sometimes it made you think if you were just as twisted as him for not being more disturbed by the whole situation.

Alastor's body tensed slightly at your question, his muscles aching. He knew the question would eventually come, and he had hoped you wouldn't ask. But he knew he couldn't lie to you, no matter how much he wanted to keep you away from the darker sides of his life.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice low. "They always do."

You started cleaning the bleeding wounds, your mind still wandering at what could've happened that night: why did he kill them? how did he do it?

“Do they… suffer?” you asked quietly, a shiver of dread coursing through you as you thought about the pain endured by those he faced.

Alastor’s gaze met yours, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. He understood your curiosity, but the truth was too grim to reveal, and he was torn between honesty and the need to shield you. But you were stubborn, and he knew you wouldn't let it go that easy.

"No," he said after a few moments, his voice steady. "They don't suffer." It was a lie. But it was the only answer he could give you to keep the truth hidden.

You reached for the shampoo bottle, poured some into your palms and started scrubbing his scalp. Alastor let out another hiss of pain as you rubbed the shampoo, the knots and blood making the process more painful. He tried to keep his face passive, hiding his discomfort from you.

"Careful, love... You're pulling too hard," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Sorry... I need to take the blood out. It's really dried up."

Alastor grumbled under his breath as you continued to wash his hair, a mix of frustration and discomfort etched on his face.

"It's fine," he finally said, forcing himself to relax a little. "Just... try to be a bit more gentle, will you?"

You nodded, your hands rubbing more gentle as the water became red. Alastor leaned back against the tub, his body slowly relaxing under your touch. The pain began to fade, replaced by a strange sense of comfort. He closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh.

"Love...," he muttered softly, his voice weary. "You don't have to do this, you know. I could manage on my own."

"It's not a crime to let me help you sometimes, you know?"

Alastor chuckled weakly, his usual cockiness returning, if only slightly. "Ah, stubborn as always," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of affection. "You never back down, do you, love?"

You ignored his question, your eyes never leaving the wounds. "Did this happen... before?"

Alastor's eyes darted to yours for a moment before looking away. The truth was, he had had many run-ins before where he had to defend himself. But he had never been this badly injured before.

"Once or twice," he finally answered, his voice low.

You looked at him, your heart hurting at the thought. You hated seeing him in pain, you hated the thought that on those many nights, he was here alone, taking care of his wounds, trying to hide from you.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Alastor leaned his head back, looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a moment, the truth catching in his throat. "I didn't want you to worry," he finally admitted, his voice soft. "I know it bothers you when I come home late, when I'm quiet or when I try to hide from you. But I didn't want you to see more of... this. I didn't want to scare you off."

You wrapped your hands around him, resting your face against his bruised neck. For a moment, his body stiffened, but he slowly relaxed into your warmth, finding solace in your touch. "I know I said I don't need to know... that I don't care who you kill or why. But I do care about you, Al! And seeing you like this..." Your words, spoken with such sincerity, hit him deep and stirred something within him

"I... I didn't want to hurt you," he said, his voice catching in his throat. "I just... I wanted to keep you out of this... To keep you safe."

“If you want to keep me safe, then you need to be safe too,” you said, your voice firm with concern.

Alastor chuckled weakly, his lips curving into a wry smile.

"You and your logic," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You always find a way, don't you, love?" His hand squeezed yours in a gentle, yet firm grip, as if silently pleading you not to let go.

"But I gotta admit... I kind of like taking care of you like this," you said, a small smirk on your face.

Alastor chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "Is that so, love?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Well, if I'm being honest... I could get used to it too."

“As long as you promise to cook jambalaya for me at least once a week,” you teased with a small, relieved smile.

Alastor let out a mock sigh, feigning reluctance. "Ah, you drive a hard bargain, love. But I suppose I can live with that." He chuckled, his eyes holding a hint of warmth and affection.

"Al..." you said, a hint of worryness in your voice. "Please, don't die..."

Alastor's face instantly softened at your words. Your worry tugged at his heartstrings, and he knew he had no choice but to reassure you. He took your face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

"I can't promise I'll always come home unscathed, love," he admitted, his voice sincere. "But I can promise you this... I'll do everything in my power to come back to you. I always will."

Tags: @ratsematary

[hemmingsleclerc]

One last time┃charles leclerc

summary: What do singers usually do when they are in a complicated love situation? They write songs, but what happens when you write a love song for your best friend who turns out to be Charles?

ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨୧ ༘✰ ༘ ˚ ˚ ༘ ‧₊˚𖧧  ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹ ᵎ 𖧧. ⊹ ˖ ♡.˚˳១୨ִֶָ 𖥔 ﾟ˖ ⊹ › ‹

Y/N was backstage, her heart beating hard and irregularly. The crowd outside screamed with excitement, eager to see her. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusting a strand of hair that had fallen out of her hair as she tried to calm down by taking deep breaths.

Y/N and Charles had been best friends since they were children. Growing up together in Monaco, they shared dreams, secrets and countless memories. While Y/N once dreamed of becoming a great singer, Charles dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver and they both achieved it, becoming successful people in their respective careers. Despite their busy lives, they always made time for each other no matter what.

Charles had been Y/N's rock during her great and fast rise to fame. He was the one who kept her feets on the ground, reminded her of who she was before the fame, the cameras, and the anxiety. Y/N, in turn, was his person, cheering for him in every victory and comforting him in difficult moments. Fans adored their friendship and often believed there was something more between them. But for Y/N it was a bittersweet reality. She loved Charles deeply, but he only saw her as her best friend or at least that's what she thought.

Recently, Charles was rumored to be dating a new girl, Alex. Y/N was happy for him, really, but every photo of them together felt like a dagger in her heart and a deep part of her was jealous of that girl, ¿What did Alex had that she didn't? Charles used to speak wonderfully about Alex in interviews when he was asked about her, but it was the way he talked about Y/N that made fans believe she was his true and only love. His words were filled with warmth and affection that left the fans wondering if Charles himself realized what he truly felt.

Y/N sighed, putting those thoughts aside. Tonight wasn't about her heartache. It was about her music and her fans. She took a deep breath and took the stage, being greeted with a sea of ​​applause and shouts. She smiled, waved and began her set. The night was intense but she enjoyed every second of it.

As the concert neared its end, Y/N took a moment to speak to the crowd. “The next song is very special to me and it's brand new,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. "It's called 'One Last Time.'" Fans screamed out of excitement, not knowing the meaning of the song and the inspiration behind it.

The music began to play and Y/N closed her eyes, gathering the courage to sing the song without her voice breaking.

''I was a liar, I gave into the fire, I know I shoulda fought it, At least I’m being honest''

The fans quickly took out their phones and turned on their flashlights, making the atmosphere more nostalgic.

''So one last time I need to be the one who takes you home, One more time I promise after that I’ll let you go, Baby I don’t care if you got her in your heart, All I really care is you wake up in my arms, One last time I need to be the one who takes you home''

That night she sang about unrequited love, about wanting one last moment with someone who didn't see her the way she saw him,no matter how much she longed for it.

''And I know, and I know, and I know she gives you everything but boy, I couldn’t give it to ya. And I know, and I know, and I know that you got everything but I got nothing here without you, baby''

When she reached the last verse, tears flowed from her eyes and her voice broke without being able to contain it.

When the song ended, Y/N stood there, tears streaming down her face trying to wipe them away. The silence was deafening and then erupted into a wave of applause mixed with screams from the crowd.

''Thank you LA, I love you, see you next time!'' and with that she left the stage

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ynln

Liked by taylorswift,charles_leclerc and 3,583,852 others

ynln tonight in LA was 🤯💓✨🌙⚡!!!! I love you all in that crazy crowd tonight, got a little emotional over there but anyways 🤣🤣 -see you soon I love u

username IF U CRY I CRY GIRL

username my baby 😭😭😭

username I love u so much yn

Backstage, Y/N wiped away her tears completely, trying to compose herself. She knew the Internet would be full of speculation. While she was on Twitter that same night after making her Instagram post, she saw fans discussing her set. #OneLastTime and #Y/NCRIED trended, with thousands of tweets expressing concern and love for her. Many fans speculated about the meaning of the song and some even guessed the truth: that it was about Charles.

A tweet caught her attention. It was a video clip of her singing her last lines, with tears streaming down her face, with the caption: “Her heart is broken and we all know why. Charles, my boy, pls open your eyes.”

Y/N's breathing hitched as she read the answers. Fans overwhelmingly supported her and expressed their belief that Charles was the one for her. As she put her phone down, a message notification appeared. It was from charles.

''y/n we need to talk. I saw your concert. Call me when you can pls. – C.”

THE DRAMA!!!🫠

[punkclowngod]

I don’t think I’ve talked much about having a service dog on here, but maybe I should

Boom used to be my service dog, I got him the summer before my last year of high school bcuz I needed a nurse 24/7 to ensure I could eat/sleep/stay alive due to a recent very traumatizing event in my life and my mom came up with the service dog idea.

Getting him was hard. And expensive. No trainers were up to my standards. I, who could barely take care of myself, had to train my own dog. The problem is no matter how hard I worked, my own family or other trainers would ruin it all by messing up my commands, by letting my dog do things I had trained him not to do. It wasn’t training anymore, I ended up simply having breakdowns because everyone kept ruining my dog. People close to me thought they could be an exception to the rules I had taught my MEDICAL AID because surely my DOG would learn the difference between them and strangers.

Eventually I brought him to school. Printed papers explaining what a service dog was and how to behave around him and I plastered them all over the place.

People barked at him, petted him, tried to grab his attention.

His harness was hot pink, patches and signs on it that very clearly said “DO NOT TOUCH” and shit like that.

Someone defaced one of the papers.

Going to school was already hard, I could barely leave the house, my mom had to accompany me to the school doors every morning and then a social worker at school would greet me there and take care of me throughout the day.

I had my own locker at a floor mostly unoccupied so I wouldn’t see other people much and my dog wouldn’t be too distracted.

But it was still to much and I ended up dropping out four months before graduation.

I couldn’t leave the house. I had Boom but he wasn’t perfect yet. People kept ruining him.

But eventually I managed to leave the house. Go to a shopping mall from time to time with him to just walk and have fun.

Too many times people came up to me to tell me the gear I used was hurting my dog. Too many times people came up to me to tell me that their own dog died. Too many people came up to him and pet him without even acknowledging my presence. Too many people telling me they wished they could bring their pets anywhere. Too many people disrespecting me and my service dog.

I stopped going out. I stopped being with my dog.

All this stress and trauma drove a wedge between my dog and I. I consider him my mother’s dog now.

I had to learn to handle myself alone when I went out. It took me years to learn to go out by myself. Only last year I started doing that.

My dog doesn’t live in my room with me anymore.

Having a service dog did still save my life. But those around me ruined that. They made it about themselves. They prioritized my dog over me. My dog that LOVES working. If you tell him “do you want to go to work” chances are he’ll get so excited he will attempt to do a backflip.

We used to have a deep bond. That bond is now broken. People took that from us.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is:

Let people and their service dogs alone.

You are not an exception.

You are not special.

You are disrupting the dog’s training and distracting it.

You are endangering a human life because you can’t resist petting the cute dog.

This isn’t about you. This is about a disabled person trying to simply live their lives.

You don’t know what you’re talking about, your advice is unsolicited and lacks understanding of what the life of a working dog is.

Just leave us alone.

[slushycoookie]

Miguel is losing it...

He's paying too much attention to you.

Without having any spider senses, he's learned to be hyper-aware of his surroundings. Focusing on anyone's movements. Unfortunately, that means with you too.

A friendship budding into something more in Miguel’s heart. He notices everything about you. Your nice eyes glitter when you see a thing you like. The way they trace his built frame whenever he crosses your vision. Your fingers brushing an object of his; his shirt, his suit, his hands. You were a touchy person.

When you drink something and share it with him, he tries to lower the uptick in his beating heart. Your lips were on that cup. If he drinks at the same spot where your lips were, would it be like an indirect kiss? That's pathetic. He decides to drink as far away from where your lips were.

Miguel couldn’t escape the taste of you when it came to food. You like to feed him, he didn't understand why. Something about sharing with friends brings you joy. And he wants to make you happy.

You feed him like an infant, holding the utensil to his lips to taste whatever you have to share. Miguel always gazes directly at you whenever he takes a bite. Savoring the mix of food and you around his tongue. How he wishes to get more of you through a kiss. But that would blur the line of friendship and evolve into something more.

The worst part is when you go to hug him. Your body flushed against his own. Miguel rarely gets touched like this. He couldn’t remember the last time someone hugged him willingly. He wonders if he should ask you to stop because his body can't take it. It gets hot, a little sweaty, and he wants to do more than embrace you.

“You're killing me.” He mutters right when you pull away.

Miguel didn't mean for the words to slip out, but you heard it anyway. “What? What did you say?”

“Nothing.” He leaves abruptly to calm down, not giving you room to respond. Those weren't the best words to say, but it was the truth. You were killing him. Eating away at his resolve by smiling at him, hugging him, feeding him. Your entire existence was destroying him. Becoming his downfall.

Of course, you weren’t going to let it slide. He noticed your call later that night. He wasn't going to pick up, ignore you by burying himself in his work. Yet he answers.

“Hey,” You start, your soothing voice causing his tense muscles to relax. “What was that earlier? You left all of a sudden.”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, “It was nothing.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You force out a laugh to try and lighten the mood. “It didn't seem like it was nothing though. You usually don't leave like that without saying something.”

Miguel wanted to confess. Say it was because of you. How you're creating the turmoil in his head. Why he was focusing on every single thing you do and say to him. His silence was enough of an answer for you as you continued.

“Was it because of what I did? The hug? I know we just started hugging recently if that's what made you uncomfortable-”

“No.” He cut you off, “Don't stop doing that.” The word ‘please’ was about to slip off the tip of his tongue, like a plea but he resisted.

“Are you going to storm off every time I hug you?”

“No.” He insists, “That was a one-time thing. I promise.”

“You promise, huh? That’s serious…”

Miguel bites his bottom lip, holding back his amusement. “I keep my promises.”

“Prove it then.” He hears you shuffling behind the phone, “We need a do-over on that hug.”

“You serious?” He glances over at the clock on his screen, almost midnight. “It’s late.”

“So? You should’ve thought about that when you stormed off earlier. Now, you gotta pay.”

Miguel huffs. He wasn’t going to go back and forth with you this late. Better to do a quick hug, in and out after a couple of minutes. “Fine.”

He drops into your bedroom. You leap at his presence, not expecting that.

“What the-why did you arrive in my room?”

“You said you wanted a hug, right?”

“I did but not in my room.”

Miguel rolls his eyes, “What difference does it make? Do you want one or not?”

You pout and he tries not to stare at how nice your lips look. He pulls you into his arms once you get out of bed. Usually, you're the one initiating it but not this time. He holds back from focusing on how you feel. How smaller you were compared to him. The way your arms fit around his waist perfectly. Like you were made for him and him alone.

He notices your smile of satisfaction at meeting your quota of hugs for the day. And he just can't take it anymore.

“I'm in love with you.”

A/N: Love writing about Miguel losing his mind

[darthannie]

potential side effects

pairing: Jonathan Crane x f!reader summary: After giving you an experimental medication, Dr. Crane helps you get over your fear of intimacy.  word count: 2,143 warnings: 18+, minors DNI for the love of god, DARK, rough at points, I’m gonna go ahead and say NONCON, au where Dr. Crane has a private practice, abuse of power, reader is under the influence (kinda like the fear toxin), reader is sleepy, Crane doesn't take no for an answer, dacryphilia, inexperienced!reader, floor sex, spit, fighting back, a smidge of aftercare at the end. a/n: Please do not read if you’re not into what's in the warnings. I had fun experimenting with this one. I tried to be a little more thorough in the warnings. Better safe than sorry. I’m still toying around with Jonathan’s voice. Let me know if you want more of this kind of thing, or something different. I’d love to interact with you guys more!

Dr. Jonathan Crane had been treating you for the better part of a year and was in the midst of creating a new medication regimen for you. Your previous treatment plan was not working as intended, so it was back to the drawing board.

He selected you as the first person to receive an experimental medication. It was meant to be inhaled and doses were to be given during the time of the appointment. You didn’t necessarily know what to expect. He’d briefly mentioned that there may be potential side effects but didn’t go into much detail. 

You were nervous the first time you’d gone in to receive a dose. As you approached the door to his office you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. You knocked and after a moment he opened the door. Jonathan always wore the same thing most of the time. Today he donned a black blazer and slacks with a white button-up. His red tie was placed right at the center of his collar. His dark hair framed his face perfectly. He looks good today, you thought, better than usual. 

You exchanged your normal pleasantries and sat across from him on a couch. His office was spacious and dark. All the furniture was made of wood. In the corner, there was a big bookcase that consisted of books on fear, pharmacology, and different editions of the DSM. The DSM-4 was missing from the shelf, presumably on his desk. 

The room brought you a lot of comfort. It was the only place you ever got to see him. It felt like Dr. Crane was the only person in all of Gotham that understood you. It was his job after all. 

Soon the time came for him to administer the medication. 

“I’m going to spray in front of your face and you’re going to breathe in. It doesn’t take much to be effective.”, he said. 

You nodded and he sprayed. 

Your nerves subsided almost immediately and your mind became quiet.

“Any difference?”, he asked. 

“My mind is silent. All my racing thoughts have stopped.” 

“Good. That means it’s working. Some of the other side effects may begin to set in now.” 

He was right. Like clockwork, you started to get drowsy. It was like someone had given you a little too much Benadryl. It was hard to keep your eyes open. 

“Dr. Crane? Is this normal?” You couldn’t help but drag the ’s’. 

“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just the medication working. How do you feel?” He seemed a tad on edge as he awaited your answer. 

“I feel all warm inside.” 

He then leaned back against his desk. “Any drowsiness?”

“Lots of it.” You chuckled slightly.

“That is normal.” He said, answering your question. “The medication was likely to make you feel tired.”

“Does it go away?”

“As your body builds up a tolerance, the effects will lessen. Now, I wanted to talk about the recent screenings you filled out. I would like you to check over them and rate their accuracy on a scale from one to five, five being very accurate.” 

He handed you a piece of paper and you looked it over. “Four.”

“Why not five?” His eyebrows furrowed. 

“Number six. ’S worse.” Question number six pertained to your interest in sex. More specifically how terrified you were of having it. 

It was a topic you were working on with Dr. Crane since it impacted your life so much. You were hesitant to mention it at first, but he assured you it was better to talk about it instead of holding it in. So, you spilled every detail. This included your inability to get yourself off and failed hook-up attempts.

You’d try very hard but when it came time for you to do the deed you shut down and found a way out of the situation. You hadn’t been getting out there much because, frankly, the thought of being intimate with someone was frightening. You didn’t know how you’d ever get over it. 

“Have you sought out any partners to help with your fears?”, he asked.

You took a moment to process what he said. “No, I haven’t. I can’t. It’s too-“

“Frightening, yes I remember you using that word.” He removed his glasses before continuing. “I think there’s a way I can help you with that. Personally.”

You yawned. “What do you mean by that doctor?” 

“I can make you feel better.” He looked down at you and brushed your cheek with the back of his hand. 

“How do you mean?” You could hear the apprehension in your voice. He ignored your question and reached down to the hem of your top, lifting it slightly. 

You pulled back a little too quickly and you got a bit dizzy. “I don’t know about that Dr. Crane. I can’t- I’m not well.”

He ignored you. “I think it’ll be easier if I just take you here on the floor.” 

He dragged you off the couch and onto the ground, sitting up. The hardwood was cold to the touch but started to warm under your body. He kneeled next to you. You tried to fight him as he reached for your sweater. He grabbed your wrists to stop you from thrashing around. 

“I would hate to have to tie you up, sweetheart.” You knew he would follow through so you did what he wanted. You stopped fighting back.

He neatly folded and put aside each article of clothing he took off your body. Eventually, you were completely bare in front of him. You were almost too gone to grasp what was going on. Almost. The fear began to creep in and he could tell. Maybe the medication was not working the way he intended it to. Maybe he lied about what it was intended to do. 

You slurred, “Dr. Crane, please don’t- Please don’t do this.” 

He leaned over you and you tried to push him away. He only offered a small smile and reached his hand down between your legs. You whimpered as his fingers moved lightly over your clit. You mewled at the new sensation. You gave in to the feeling and your eyes started to close. When they wouldn’t open again Jonathan lightly slapped your cheek. 

“No, no, no don’t fall asleep. I need you to stay awake for me.”, he said. 

You fought the exhaustion and watched as he used his fingers to tease you. 

He noticed you getting wetter and moved his fingers down to your entrance. He slowly stretched you with two fingers, watching your face as your mouth fell open. 

A tight-lipped smile appeared on his face. He started slow and then moved his fingers in and out very quickly, hitting a new spot until he found the one that made your legs shake. You lied back and let him work on you. All you felt was bliss. No one had ever touched you like that. 

He took his hand away and you whined. This was a first and you were glad you made it this far. This was a win. 

You thought it was over, but then you noticed him unbuttoning his pants. 

Your breath quickened and you put your hand out. “Wait! Please, no! I think I’ve had enough for today.” 

“We’re not done with your treatment yet, princess. Please hold still. It will be easier for the both of us.” 

Your body was made of putty. The side effects had gotten worse. He brought your legs into position before grabbing himself in his hand. He stroked his cock a couple of times before entering you. 

He gave you no time to adjust. His pace was slow but he fucked hard. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you. You’ve never been fucked like this before. But, that didn’t matter to him. All he wanted was to feel you around him. Make you his. 

The sounds in the room sent you reeling. You didn’t know you would moan so much. The sound of his skin hitting yours filled the room along with his heavy breaths and moans. He grabbed your hips as he thrust hard and fast. You were having a hard time coping with all the feelings you were having at once. The fear, exhaustion, and pleasure were beginning to mix. You wanted to scream. Instead, you cried. 

Jonathan moaned at the sight. He loved watching you cry. He’d seen it happen during sessions and couldn’t help but wonder what it would look like if you moaned while you cried. Now he knew. You were unable to keep quiet. Silent cries became sobs which became whimpers. 

He caressed your tear-stained face, “Shhhhhh, hush now it’s alright. You’re doing so well.”

You tried to talk through your tears. “Please Jonathan- Dr. Crane, Make it stop!”

This time he went deeper. You yelped as you felt him hit a new part of you. “I’m not stopping until you tell me it feels good. Tell me, does it feel good?”

“Yes,” you moaned, “it feels good.” 

“Yeah? Are you still frightened? Are you scared of me?”

“Yes.”, you admitted. It was hard for you to get out. How could you ever fear him? All he had ever done was help you. This was just another one of his unorthodox methods. 

He bent forward and put his arms next to your ears, locking his fingers on the top of your head to hold you in place. Your body was limp as he continued fucking you into the floor. Your eyes closed; you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

He shook your head slightly. “No, eyes on me. Look at me.” 

You looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Open your mouth.” You obeyed and he spit in your mouth. In all honesty, you savored the taste. It was another way of him claiming you. 

“Swallow.” When you did he hummed contently. “Good girl.” 

You felt something weird tightening in your core. “Dr. Crane. I feel like I’m gonna-“. 

A long moan came out before you could finish your sentence. He fucked you as you rode your high and soon after his thrusts started to falter. He sat up and grabbed your hip to use as leverage. You mustered up as much energy as you could to move away from him, using your legs to drag yourself across the floor. He was much stronger than you at this point and he pulled you back. 

“No, come here. You’re gonna stay still while I finish. Got it?”

The tears kept flowing, but you obeyed. You lied back as he came inside of you. He stayed inside of you for a minute, savoring the moment. You were tired and blissed out. He pulled out of you without a word. He watched as his cum dropped out of you. 

“What a sight.”, he said matter a factly. He helped you sit up and wiped tears from your face with his thumb. He brought you close to him and kissed your forehead. 

He got up and put himself back together again. He fixed his clothing, tucking in his pristine white shirt and fastening his pants. He fixed his tie and looked past you into a mirror. 

Once satisfied, he grabbed a towel from his desk and cleaned you up. He helped you up to your feet and began dressing you. His demeanor was softer now. He took his time as he got you dressed. Once he was finished he helped you sit on the couch. You curled up into his side, seeking comfort from the man who had just used you. 

You’d never felt more confused. You knew this shouldn’t have happened. Every boundary had been crossed. But, the special attention from him felt better than anything. You fell asleep on his shoulder. He let you sleep on him for a while before he got up to write notes on what had just occurred. He found his glasses, put them on, and returned to his desk to begin writing. He included your reaction to the “medication” and how receptive you were to the treatment.

You woke up about an hour later, confused. You looked around and recognized his office. The memories of earlier events came rushing back. You felt your cheeks get hot.

Jonathan looked up from the paper he was holding up. “Rise and shine.”

He grabbed a sheet of paper from your file. He attached it to a clipboard and grabbed a pen. He handed you the materials and you looked down. It was another questionnaire. 

“Fill this out as accurately as possible.”

“What is it for?” You cleared your throat. He sat back down at his desk and picked up the paper he was previously inspecting. He looked at your file before looking back at you. 

“Our next session.”, he replied.