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#do not try this at home radiation is not something to play around with call your local epa if you come across any wild radium.
evilfarmin · 1 year
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HAHA revigator comic is a go!
[here] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]
bonus VVV
they're both colorblind.
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skyahri · 6 months
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How They'd Do You |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Shikamaru Nara, Madara Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki.
Summary: How they are in bed.
Warnings: NSFW. Mentions of sex and foreplay. Breeding kink, breast and nipple play, head, etc.
- - - - -
Sasuke Uchiha
Sasuke isn't one to give up control very easily, especially when he's in any sort of vulnerable state.
More often than not, he's on top of you, forcing your legs against your chest and not holding anything back as he thrusts into you.
On the rare occasion he allows you to top, he's still 100% in control. He always ends up taking over towards the end when he can't take it anymore. His release is close, and something in his brain is begging him to rail you.
He wouldn't be into actual choking in fear he'd lose control of his strength, but he's not afraid to use your neck as a handle of sorts to keep your body from moving too much.
Hes the embodiment of a breeding kink.
He's close to his end. He places his hand on your stomach and forces his seed in you.
If he's still got stamina, he's pushing you onto your hands and knees for round two, ass high up in the air.
"Not a single drop spills. Got it?"
Emergency contraceptive is your best friend, but let's be real. It fails sooner rather than later based on the sheer amount you rely on it.
Kakashi Hatake
Foreplay king. He loves head, both giving and receiving, sometimes even at the same time. Nipple play, fingering, whatever it is you're needing, he's providing.
Passionate.
When he does share his mind, it's never a light matter, and sex is no different.
Kissing, hand holding, praising - it's all a very important part of the act for him. He's pouring his heart and soul into you every time you're together.
But don't get it wrong, he's still a man. Those sweet nothings and soft whispers about how much he loves you quickly turn into dirty talk.
"You're such a good girl."
"You look so pretty wrapped around my cock."
"You're mine, you know that?"
He definitely sticks his fingers in your mouth.
After a certain point, he let's his dick do the thinking for him. You don't mind one bit.
He's all about aftercare. Rags or showers or just physical contact, whatever you want, he's got it. He knows he's not always the best at taking care of you, but this is one instance where he's confident about what he's doing.
Shikamaru Nara
My man is lazy and that doesn't change, even in the bedroom.
He usually doesn't go down on you but enjoys when you sit on his face. He'll wrap his arms around to grip your thighs. He's never one to turn down head but doesn't really make foreplay a priority.
Some might call him a pillow princess at first glance, but it's deeper than that. He has the control, he just let's you do the work most of the time.
You may be on top, but his strong grip and guiding fingers tell you exactly what to do.
Sometimes, he doesn't care for the pleasantries that come with dragging it out. He'll nestle between your legs and let his head dip down to your neck.
Lazy thrusts, but that's fine. Deeper is always better than faster.
He doesn't really do dirty talk, but he's definitely not silent. He's vocal, always groaning, maybe he'll tell you that he loves you if he's feeling a certain way.
Madara Uchiha
Most of the time, he's hate fucking you.
There's no time for foreplay when he's immediately slamming you against the wall when he gets home.
Despite all the anger radiating off of him as he mercilessly thrusts into you, he's calling you the sweetest nicknames he can think of. Love or Darling or something of the sort.
He always finishes inside. You're not sure if he's just too busy letting his frustration out to think, or if he's actively trying to get you pregnant.
It's both... sort of. For him, anger is just passion and fuel. It has nothing to do with his actions. He's pumping you full of his cum because he likes to claim you. He wants you to bare his children. He wants people to know you're his.
Aftercare isn't as straightforward for him. He's not offering to clean you up, but he tries to find ways to subtly apologize for turning you into a toy.
Naruto Uzumaki
Naruto runs on pure instinct in every aspect of his life.
He's doing what feels right in the moment and confirming it with you if it's something he's unsure about. (Consent is key).
He's a people pleaser. He's always making sure he takes care of you before he even thinks about himself. Eating you out, fingering, breast play, whatever you want.
He's sloppy. It's just something that always emerges with him. He's placing wet kisses on your neck, his hand placement can sometimes be a bit awkward, but it all adds to the experience.
His head gets so foggy with love and lust that he honestly can't think straight. The way his body takes control and he ravages you in an almost primal way, it's to die for.
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eiightysixbaby · 1 year
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horror movies & chill
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word count: 2.6k
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.
cw: SMUT - 18+ MINORS DNI. this is literally porn with a smidge of plot, sorry not sorry. mask kink, choking, degradation kink on the low (eddie calls reader slut/whore), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie
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The TV screen lights up the dark living room, flashes of different colors streaking across the space. You sit on the couch, blanket draped over your lap as your knee bounces absentmindedly. Your boyfriend had wandered off to get something, and now you sit alone in suspense as the girl on screen figures out there’s a killer in her house. The movie goes eerily quiet, the lone heroine peering around her silent home. You know what’s coming next. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that when it gets too quiet, a jump scare is right around the corner.
And yet.
You scream in unison with the girl on television, two hands gripping your shoulders from behind just as the fictional killer grabs his target. You spring up off of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor in a heap. You spin around, frantic, your body gone cold for a moment. Wicked laughter erupts in front of you as you get your bearings, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
“God dammit, Eddie!” you shout, hand over your heart as you attempt to steady your breathing. “You absolute asshole!”
Eddie’s doubled over behind the couch, a cheap Halloween store Ghostface mask covering his head. He’s still laughing, trying to get words out and failing.
“Baby…” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even though he’s trying to be serious. What a dick. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get you that good,” he says, walking towards you.
“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you reply, but nevertheless you let him grab your arms, rubbing soothing patterns on the skin.
“I know. I am, baby, you’re right. That was mean,” he agrees, nodding his head beneath the black and white mask. You know he'd be giving you puppy-dog eyes if you could see him.
You can’t help but laugh, the initial panic leaving your body. You must’ve looked petrified, and you’re a little mad he scared you so badly.
“You’ll have to make it up to me,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
Eddie’s head cocks to one side, sympathetic, playing it up for you. “Of course, sweetheart. And how do I do that?” he asks, stepping slightly closer to you.
He wants a genuine answer, but you find your breath hitching in your throat. Maybe it’s the way his fingers rub circles into your lower back. Maybe it’s the heat radiating from his body onto yours. Maybe it’s the sound of his labored breathing beneath that sweaty mask that's getting to you. You press your thighs together, suddenly feeling too hot for such a cold October day.
And Eddie can see, through the mesh eye cutouts, the way you bite your lip just slightly. He can see the way your lips part but no words come out, the way you tilt your hips closer to his. And he definitely feels the way your fingers hook into the belt-loops on his jeans, drawing him in.
“Oh my god. Are you into this right now?” he asks, voice dripping with his smug attitude. He’s grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat, if only you could see it.
You don’t answer right away, shifting on your feet. You look down, not sure if you have the gumption to tell your boyfriend the god damn Ghostface mask is turning you on right now. You were scared shitless mere minutes ago. But the way your heart pounds now is completely different to the way it had before.
“Shut up….” you mumble, your face growing incredibly warm.
“You are so fucking into this right now,” he says, laughing as he gets the last word out.
“Okay, if you’re gonna make fun-” you start, drawing your body away. Eddie doesn’t let you finish.
“Waitwaitwait,” he interrupts, pulling you back to him. “I just didn’t expect it, is all,” he reassures, his voice sounding muffled beneath the rubbery material.
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eagerly anticipating his next move. You can't quite bring yourself to act first.
He brings your body flush against his, two fingers gliding up one of your arms, sending chills down your spine. He leans his face close to your ear, his breathing audible. “I won’t judge if you like the mask, baby,” he purrs, his voice deeper now.
His other hand wraps around your waist, palm pressing into your lower back, pushing your crotch against his. You gasp, goosebumps perking up along your arms. Screams erupt from the movie, the final girl running free from her potential killer. It’s comedic, really, how you’re stood here ready to jump the killer’s bones.
Eddie’s hips roll, just slightly, but enough for you to feel the tent in his pants. You let out a shaky breath, your body seeking him out, wanting him to give you more of that friction.
“What is it, babe?” he taunts. “You want me?”
“Eddie…” is all you get out, a breathy little thing, your hands pressed to his chest.
And then he’s pressing you against the wall, hiking one of your legs around his waist, his crotch pressing against your needy core. One big hand comes to wrap around your throat, cold rings soothing the flames that lap at your skin. He squeezes, making you delightfully hazy, pinning you hard against the wall with his body.
“This what you want, baby? Want me to fucking ruin you?” he asks, voice akin to a growl, squeezing your throat yet again.
“P-please,” you mewl, desperate for more. You know you’re soaking through your panties, practically aching for him.
Something about not being able to see him drives you crazy. Relying on just his voice, trying to gauge his tone. You’re writhing beneath him, grinding yourself against him. He’s so hard it has to be painful, you can feel it even through the layer of denim covering his bottom half.
“Oh, she’s so desperate, huh? Pussy needs me, baby? God damn…” he rasps, and you throb for him.
His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh where he holds it, giving it a sharp squeeze. His other hand removes itself from your neck, tugging down the zipper on his jeans. You undo the button for him, just as eager to get his pants down as he is. His cock stands at attention beneath the fabric of his boxers, begging to be touched. He ignores it for the meantime, though, releasing his hold on your leg and letting you drop it. He makes quick work of sliding your leggings and panties down, fingers collecting the honey that drips from you.
Groaning, he brings his fingers to your mouth, prompting you to suck them. You oblige, mouth opening and enveloping his digits. Your tongue swipes over them, tasting yourself and coating them with saliva. And then they’re pulled from your lips, teasing your clit before slipping into your cunt. Your leg wraps around his waist once more, allowing for a better angle. He scissors those two fingers inside of you, his breathing heavy, sounding almost amplified from beneath the mask. Your hips buck forward, forcing his fingers deeper. One hand grips your side, pinning you back against the wall.
“Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, slut,” Eddie barks, words sending sparks right through you.
His fingers curl in a ‘come here’ motion, your body feeling boneless as you try to keep yourself upright. He laughs, a devious thing, clearly satisfied with how pliant you are for him. You can tell how wet you are from the slick sounds coming from every glide of his fingers, your body so desperately craving more of him. He adds a third finger, prying you open even farther with complete ease, grunting as he feels the way you tense around him.
“Eddie,” you gasp, “f-feels so good.”
“I know it does, baby, I know,” he coos, smirking to himself at the way your body writhes beyond your control. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, hm?”
“Yeah, oh god,” you cry, head tipping back as you moan to the ceiling, his fingers pressing so deep inside of you.
He moans despite himself, your cunt completely drenching his fingers. His cock twitches in his boxers, leaks and pleads for you. You’re a little blurry through the eyes of Ghostface, but he can still make out the way your face contorts in pleasure. He loves making you feel like this, loves having you in the palm of his hand.
“My filthy girl, so fuckin’ wet for me all because I put this mask on, is that it? Really gets you going, huh baby?”
He wanted you to like the mask, if he’s honest, and the fact that it’s working on you is driving him up a fucking wall. He needs to be inside of you, needs to fuck you hard and pump you full of his cum before he loses it.
Three fingers slide out of you, squelching slightly as you suddenly clench around nothing. He yanks his boxers down, merely a hindrance to him, his thick cock springing free. You whimper at the sight of it, chewing on your lip as you watch him wrap his hand around the shaft. He pumps himself a few times, lets his pre-cum drip over his fingers, and it makes you ache. You feel like your body is on fire, you need him so bad, white-hot flames licking up your thighs.
A few more pumps and then he’s releasing himself, hoisting you up so both of your legs tangle around him. He grips the meat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh the best he can. He lines his cock up just right, your cunt glistening with your arousal. And you want to kiss him so bad, you want to feel your tongue against his and you want him to bite you, to suck bruises into your neck. The fact that you can’t almost makes you crazier, spurring you on more. You can only imagine what his face looks like as he sheathes himself inside of you, can only imagine those perfect parted lips as he sighs blissfully.
His cock pushes through your slick folds until you can feel his balls pressed against you, his thick length fully seated inside of you. It’s such an enticing stretch to fit him, your whole body vibrating with desire. He rocks himself in and out, in and out, letting you get used to his size. Your cunt has already soaked him in your cream, you can see it pooling where his body meets yours.
“Fuuuuuuck baby,” Eddie groans, panting beneath the warmth of the mask. “Such a needy whore for me, god damn. So fucking wet.”
You whine, canting your hips upwards ever so slightly, the tip of Eddie’s cock pressing so deep inside.
“She’s fuckin’ soaking me, angel. This pussy loves me, doesn’t she?” he says, thrusting into you harder now. He sets a quicker pace, holding your weight against the wall with complete ease.
“Eddie, Eddie,” you moan, waves of euphoria rippling through every inch of your body. He’s so deep and so big and so good.
Your nails dig into the skin of his back, clawing at him through his t-shirt as he fucks you like it’s his last opportunity. You can hear grunts and strained whines falling from his lips, breath coming out in spurts from exertion.
“Babe, fuck, can I take this thing off? Need my mouth on you baby,” he pants, hips snapping against yours and making you cry out.
“Yes, yes - fuck Eddie!” you moan, nearly screaming his name.
The mask is whipped off in one swift motion, Eddie’s unruly curls sticking out. His eyes are wild, pupils blown with sheer need, those perfect lips of his so pink and plump. His mouth is on you in an instant, kissing your lips, your jaw, his teeth biting at your neck. He sucks on the delicate skin, unforgiving as you hiss at the sensation. His warm tongue laves over the irritated area, soothing you and sending a shiver down your spine. You roll your hips, needing more from him, needing him in impossible ways.
“Fucking Christ, you’re so desperate for me,” he gets out through heavy breaths, his cock impaling you over and over. His cocky demeanor doesn’t waver, hands squeezing your ass, smirking when you whine at him.
Filthy noises fill the living room, wet smacks as your dripping pussy sucks Eddie back in for more more more. He glances down to where your bodies join, his dick shiny with your juices. Eyelashes flutter as he looks back up at you, pulling your face to his to kiss you harder. His greedy tongue roams your mouth, his lips demanding in the way they move with yours.
Eddie can tell you’re getting close by the way your eyes roll back into your skull, the way your pussy keeps squeezing him so tight. Your brows knit together as you focus on how good he feels, eyes pinching shut.
“Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet girl,” Eddie instructs, fucking you faster. “Look at me when I’m making you feel so good.”
Your eyes open, big and glassy as they plead with him. You’re so ready to snap, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as Eddie abuses your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair - something you’d missed while he’d had the mask on - and tug, drawing a throaty groan from him. His balls are slapping against the skin of your ass with each rough thrust, fingers digging so hard into flesh you’re sure you’ll be sore tomorrow.
Those big brown eyes of his are incredibly dark, his lips parted as he watches you slowly unravel right before his eyes. You feel yourself about to tip over the edge, about to let go, and he can see it on your face.
“Gonna cum for me, dirty girl? Little slut’s gonna cum all over my fucking cock?” he taunts you, every single word sending bolts of electricity right to your core.
“Gonna cum so fucking hard, Eddie, oh my god,” you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering to a close as you reach your peak.
You’re delirious as you cum, your walls squeezing Eddie so fucking tight. Strings of curse words are falling from his lips as he chases his own release, drawing it closer and closer as you completely soak him. Movements get sloppy, not aided by the slippery mess you’ve created, and Eddie’s breaths grow staggered.
His cock pounds into you one, two, three more times before his hips stutter, hot ropes of cum filling you. You can just barely feel the way he twitches inside of you, every last drop of his release pouring out. Both of you settle finally, catching your breath as you come down from your highs. Eddie sets you down, your feet hitting the ground once more. Your legs feel like rubber, like you might crumple to the floor if it weren’t for the fact that he’s holding your waist and pulling you in to him.
You look down at the floor, the crumpled mask staring up at you, mouth gaping in a perpetual scream. You’re dizzy with realization of what's just happened.
“You’re fucking unreal,” he says finally, tilting your chin up so your eyes will meet his. “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know…” you admit, cheeks growing hot. “Something about that damn mask,” you smirk at him, getting a waggle of his eyebrows in response.
“I can go to the store right now and get more… who do you want next? Michael Myers? Jason?” Eddie jokes, smiling when you scoff at him.
“Just make sure to keep the Ghostface one around, okay?” your shy request has him grinning, his tongue running over his teeth.
“Oh, you’ll be seeing more of him for sure.”
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rafecameronssl4t · 22 days
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Forced marriage au request: I know it was purely a transactional marriage and he finds her annoying, always acting cold but maybe you could write about him going soft, starting to feel something towards her. being a bit confused and feeling protective of her 🥺
Foreign feelings || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR 2K FOLLOWERS AHHHH LOVE EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUS
Warnings: mention of blood,
Word count: 1,840
MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
Rafe’s voice slices through the air like a knife, its sharpness reverberating down the long, empty hallway. You sit in the armchair, your eyes fixed on the TV screen, pretending not to hear him. But his presence is impossible to ignore. The steady rhythm of his footsteps grows louder, the sound bouncing off the cold marble floors, each step punctuating his rising anger.
He finally comes to a stop beside the armchair where you sit, tension radiating off him. “Get up,” he commands, his voice cold and unyielding. The chill in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, but you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge him. Your gaze remains glued to the screen, as if the scene playing out before you could somehow drown out the tension crackling in the air.
“No,” you reply, your voice firm, laced with quiet defiance. You don’t bother to look at him; the anger radiating from him is palpable enough. His scoff is filled with derision, the sound grating against your nerves. “I said get up. I’m not asking, I’m telling you,” he spits, his words sharp as glass.
Reluctantly, you drag your eyes away from the screen and turn to face him. The sight of him only intensifies the knot of irritation in your chest. His jaw is clenched, his eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. Something has clearly set him off, and by the look on his face, it’s bad.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What are you doing here?” you snap, suspicion lacing your tone. It’s rare for him to come home in the middle of the day, especially with this kind of energy. Your eyes narrow, trying to gauge the storm brewing beneath his composed exterior.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to be at work,” he snarls, “but instead, I get a call from your mother asking about your whereabouts because you can’t seem to pick up your damn phone.” His voice is rising, the anger simmering just below the surface. You roll your eyes, dismissing the seriousness he’s trying to impress upon you.
“My phone was flat. I was charging it in my room,” you say with a shrug, your tone indifferent, as if that alone should explain everything. To you, it’s a non-issue, not worth the confrontation. “Why couldn’t she just call Anita? Or literally any of the staff?”
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his frustration bubbling over. “Did you forget that today is a public holiday? No one is here,” he snaps, his words dripping with condescension. His hands drop to his hips as he lets out a loud, exasperated sigh, trying to rein in his temper. “She wants to see you at her house, now,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. The demand in his voice is clear—this is not a request.
You open your mouth to argue, to push back against his orders, but the words die in your throat. There’s no point in resisting when he’s like this—volatile and unyielding. “Fine, just let me get my shoes,” you huff, annoyance prickling at you as you stand up. He steps aside, giving you space to pass, but as you brush by him, you hear his muttered curse, low but unmistakable.
“Fucking brat.” The words hit you like a slap, stinging more than you care to admit. You pause for a fraction of a second before continuing your stride, your back stiff with indignation. “I heard that, you prick,” you call out over your shoulder, your voice sharp, the anger simmering beneath the surface finally finding an outlet. You don’t bother to turn around; you’ve already given him enough of your attention.
~
You let out a sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you as you shut the door of Rafe’s car. The air outside is thick with the late afternoon heat, but it does little to warm the chill that runs down your spine as you gaze up at your parents’ house. The grand facade looms before you, imposing and uninviting, its elegant walls holding more secrets than comfort.
You wonder, not for the first time, why your mother has summoned you here so urgently. The unease you feel is only deepened by the knowledge that nothing good ever comes from such unexpected calls. As you begin the walk towards the front door, you glance back over your shoulder at Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the bonnet of his car, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused on his watch as if your family drama is just another inconvenience in his day.
His indifference grates on your nerves, and you roll your eyes, turning away from him. He isn’t coming inside, leaving you to face whatever awaits you alone. The door opens before you even reach it, your parents’ butler standing there with a solemn expression. He nods curtly, directing you to the drawing room where your mother waits. His silence feels like a warning, but you push it aside, forcing your feet to move forward.
The house is eerily quiet, the only sound the soft click of your heels against the polished floors. When you reach the drawing room, you pause for a moment, hand resting on the door handle. Steeling yourself, you push the door open and step inside. The room is dimly lit, heavy drapes partially drawn against the late afternoon sun.
Your mother’s back is turned to you, her posture rigid as she stares out the window, her reflection a ghostly figure in the glass. “Did you not think I wouldn't notice?” Her voice cuts through the silence, sharp and cold, freezing you in place. A shiver runs through you as your body tenses instinctively at her tone.
“Notice what?” you ask slowly, the words cautious as you take a few steps into the room. There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach as you approach her, the air thick with unspoken accusations. You move towards the armchair, lowering yourself into it with deliberate calm, though your heart pounds in your chest.
Your mother doesn’t turn to face you. Instead, she lifts her teacup with a graceful hand, taking a delicate sip before setting it back on the table beside her. The soft clink of porcelain is the only sound that fills the room, heightening your anxiety.
“Oh, don’t act stupid now, dear,” she says with a chuckle, the sound low and mocking. The corners of her lips curl into a smile, but it’s anything but warm. It’s the kind of smile that sends a chill down your spine, a predator’s grin before the strike. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry as you struggle to maintain your composure.
~
The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth as you bit down on your trembling lip, trying to keep yourself from breaking down completely. Your vision blurred, the tears that you had fought so hard to hold back now clouding your sight as you stepped out into the harsh afternoon sun.
Rafe was still where you had left him, leaning lazily against the bonnet of his car, his expression one of bored impatience. He barely glanced up at the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. But as you drew closer, he turned his head, his eyes narrowing as he took in your appearance.
“Finally, haven’t got all fuckin’ day—” Rafe’s words trailed off as his eyes narrowed, his irritation quickly giving way to something else, something unfamiliar. Concern? It felt foreign to him, this sudden urge to care about what was happening to you. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the state you were in—your eyes red and swollen from crying, cheeks streaked with tears, and most telling of all, the angry redness of a handprint still visible on your skin.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a concern he wasn’t used to feeling, especially not for you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The tries you had tried so hard to keep from falling fell, and the sobs that had been building inside you came rushing out, unstoppable and raw.
Your hands flew to your face as if to hide from him, from the world, from the humiliation and pain that you couldn’t bear to show. Rafe hesitated for a moment, wanting to tell you to pull yourself together. But something in the way you crumpled in front of him, so broken and vulnerable, made him pause.
Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, his annoyance evaporating as he pulled you into his arms. The gesture surprised him as much as it did you. His hold was firm yet gentle, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him.
It was as if his body moved on its own, instinctively knowing that this was what you needed, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soothing, a contrast to the cold, distant tone he usually reserved for you. His fingers tangled in your hair as he tried to calm you, his touch surprisingly tender as he stroked your back, letting you cry against him.
For once, his usual rough edges were softened, and all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing, grounding you in the midst of your anguish. As you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt, Rafe found himself torn between confusion and something deeper. This wasn’t how he was supposed to feel—this protectiveness, this need to shield you from whatever had hurt you.
You were supposed to be an inconvenience, a pawn in a game neither of you had wanted to play. But now, with you trembling in his arms, he couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, the way his heart ached at the sight of your pain. He had always prided himself on keeping his emotions in check, on maintaining that distance between the two of you. But now, as he held you close, something inside him was shifting, softening in a way that scared him.
He didn’t want to care, didn’t want to feel this pull towards you that was growing stronger with every passing second. Yet here he was, unable to pull away, unable to stop himself from wanting to protect you, even if he didn’t fully understand why. Rafe didn’t say anything more, didn’t know what to say as you continued to cry against his chest.
The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in that moment—one filled with pain, but also with a strange sense of comfort. For the first time, Rafe allowed himself to be vulnerable too, to let down the walls he had so carefully constructed. And as he held you, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this marriage than he had ever let himself believe.
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agaypanic · 8 months
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Could you do Carlisle Cullen x wife fem!reader where she accompanied Bella to the hospital and someone tries to flirt with her and he saw what happened and got jealous even though they have been married for centuries🤭. Add something you'd like. Tag me later! Thanks.
Not Interested (Carlisle Cullen X Vampire!Wife!Reader)
Masterlist
Request Something
Summary: Hearing the news about Edward saving Bella from a rogue van, you rushed to the hospital. While trying to find your husband and family, you seem to attract some unwanted attention.
A/N: tweaked the first part of the request but that’s it. au where esme doesn’t exist
***
When you had gotten a call from Alice telling you that Edward had saved Chief Swan’s daughter and Rosalie had followed the ambulance they were in to the hospital, you knew you had to go over to play mediator. Rosalie was very clear about her stance on Edward’s infatuation with Bella and the danger that infatuation could put all of you in; it was becoming a constant topic of argument between the two. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to visit your husband.
The hospital parking lot was a bit crowded when you arrived, you felt lucky when you finally found a spot. It seemed that everyone was concerned about Bella’s well-being, even though you heard that she was very adamant about being okay.
You pushed through the small crowd to get inside and went to the receptionist’s desk.
“Hello, Mary!” You said with a polite smile. Being married to the best doctor in Forks, who worked long hours, had made you acquainted with almost everyone on the staff. “Do you know if Carlisle is busy right now?”
“He’s with a patient, but I’ll page him so he knows to come down when he’s done.” She responded with a sweet tone. You thanked her and sat in the small waiting room, grabbing a magazine off the table to flip through as you waited for your husband or one of your kids to come.
From the corner of your eye, you saw someone approaching you. Thinking it was one of your children or Carlisle, you glanced up. But it was just a stranger, so you stuck your nose back in the magazine.
“Hey.” The man said, sitting in the seat next to you. You subtly shifted away from him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new to town?”
You were a bit surprised that he didn’t know you or recognized you, at the very least. Even though you usually stayed at home, you were well-known around the hospital and the high school. Besides, your family was a bit of a hot topic, being so pale and mysterious and keeping to yourselves. And this was a small town where everyone knew everyone.
“Nope.” You responded, trying to be polite while also conveying that you weren’t interested in talking much. “I’ve lived here for a few years.”
“Then why haven’t I seen you around?” He leaned forward, a curious smirk on his face. You did your best to hide your grimace.
“I guess we’ve never been in the same place at the same time.”
“Well, that’s a shame. Maybe we should do something to fix that.” You wanted to roll your eyes at his forwardness. To him, you were a complete stranger sitting in a hospital. For all he knew, you could be waiting to see a family member on their deathbed, and he wants to flirt. “Do you wanna maybe go get a drink?”
“I’m fine.” You replied with indifference.
“Aw, don’t be like that. I bet I could show you a good time.”
You laughed, shutting the magazine and dropping it onto the table. You could sense someone coming down the hall, and you knew exactly who it was. And you knew he was making his steps a little heavier than usual to make his presence known. 
“Believe me, I’m not interested.” By the time you were standing and looking down on the stranger, Carlisle had reached the waiting room, his gaze fixated on the two of you. You turned your head and smiled brightly. “Darling! There you are!”
You strode over to your husband and kissed him on the cheek, the faintest lip print being left on his pale cheek. You could feel the jealousy radiating off of him, but the slight snarl on his lips turned into a loving smile.
“Hello, dear.” His arm was wound firmly around your waist, the tips of his fingers skimming your hip. The hold felt possessive, like he needed to make it clear to this mystery man and anyone who passed by you that they had no chance. It was amusing to you that even after a few centuries of marriage, Carlisle still felt jealous when someone tried to win you over, even when you were blatantly uninterested. 
Speaking of the stranger, Carlisle gave him a glaring glance, and he knew it was time for him to leave. When he was out the door, Carlisle softened. 
“What are you doing down here?”
“Alice told me about the van.” You said, pursing your lips. “I had a bit of a feeling that Rosalie would come here to have a word or two with Edward about the whole thing.”
“You, my little angel, are very smart.” Carlisle smiled down at you before nodding towards the other side of the room, where two of your children were quietly hissing arguments to each other. “And they are right on time.”
You laughed a little before letting Carlisle walk you over to Rosalie and Edward to hear the full story, even though you had already gotten most of it from Alice. The entire time, Carlisle’s arm stayed around you, a constant reminder to everyone that you belonged to each other for eternity.
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notjustjavierpena · 4 months
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King
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: A happy return my dark sugardaddy!joel. It’s truly been too long. I hope you enjoy his dark and looming presence.
Summary: You do what it takes to get that car you’ve wanted for a while.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, sugardaddy/sugarbaby dynamics, abusive relationship, dom/sub dynamics, hint at virginity kink, power dynamics, reader calls joel ‘king’. daddy kink, light bondage, verbal humiliation, demeaning talk about sex work, praise kink, slapping, manhandling, dacryphilia, choking, rough piv sex, cream pie, no aftercare
Word count: 3.3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56477767
King
You run your fingers down over the front of your little black dress. It’s not your favorite but it doesn’t matter as it is not the centerpiece of your outfit, mischievously hiding an emerald green set of lingerie underneath it that peeks out from under the hem in the form of a garter belt. 
The silk underwear is new, bought only last week when Joel took you shopping for something new to tear to pieces. He’d chosen this color very carefully but you suspect that it had really been the heart-shaped gap between your legs that had made it sell itself. You knew instantly then, from the way his eyes had darkened and his suit pants had tightened, that it would become a useful weapon in getting what you wanted. Not that you would ever say it out loud (and you suspect that he knows) but Joel is sometimes easy to read, easy to wrap around your finger if you let him do as he pleases. He cares about your happiness and wants but he just doesn’t like to say it out loud, likes to play games so it looks like it is his idea. You’re happy to indulge him in this fantasy if you end up benefiting from it anyway. 
The black dress has no uneven ruffles but you still smooth it out underneath your palms. Then you head to his king-sized bed, toeing off your shoes, and decide to take a nap on your front until he gets home. He doesn’t even know you have a mission. 
Joel arrives home a few hours later. You wake up from the sound of his car crunching the gravel of his driveway, announcing his arrival like an impending hurricane that has consciousness to be merciful but only if it likes. You imagine the scene in your head; the sight of the car coming to a jarring halt, the door being opened and a single foot hitting the solid ground. 
You get out of bed immediately with your heart pounding at the thought of seeing him in just a moment. You leave your shoes behind as you exit the bedroom, tiptoeing out into the hall to peer down at the front door from the top of the enormous staircase. 
You can hear the jingle of his keys and then he is framed in the doorway, a dark shadow in contrast to the pining sunlight outside. He looks around for you for a moment, surveying his large home with a presence that fills the space completely. 
You try to steady your breathing so as to not reveal yourself to be spying on him, taking note of how he carries himself and what mood radiates from him. Sometimes it’s not the right time to ask for things. Sometimes it’s better to just spread your legs or open your mouth. 
However, Joel simply closes the door and lets out a tired, relieved breath, hand coming up to run across his forehead and using two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. His shoulders slump at this moment that he thinks he is alone, and you release a breath that you didn’t know you have been holding in as you find no clenched fists or angry muttering to himself. 
You make your way back to his bedroom and decide that sitting obediently on the edge of the bed, posing as someone who has been waiting to make his life easier, is the best way forward. 
It takes a little while before you hear his footsteps approaching outside the room. He opens the door slowly, entering the room with his still impressive demeanor. You give him a little smile and push yourself to stand, making your way towards him and pecking his lips when you stand in front of him. 
“Hey,” he says, only a hint of warmth in his tired voice. He reaches out to place a hand on your waist, his grip on your body feeling more like a claim than a comfort.
“You look tired,” you note and cup his cheek with your dominant hand. He closes his eyes briefly as if drawing something from your touch, draining something out of you. When he opens them again, they go down to take in your appearance. His grip on your waist tightens. 
“And you look…” he begins but is unsure how to compliment the effort you’ve put into your outfit that’s only for him. It seems like he genuinely wants to say something nice until his eyes narrow in suspicion, “What’s this for?” 
“I want a new car,” you let him tower over you as you decide to be bold in his fatigued state. Your fingers come up to peel the straps of your dress off, letting them droop down over your delicate skin for just a second before pulling the rest of the dress down to pool around your feet. You step out of it, don’t dare smile in case he might see it as smugness.
Joel looks unimpressed, disappointed even. He narrows his eyes further, a flicker of irritation across his face. He lets go of your body as if you are suddenly not interesting anymore, reaches to undo the knot on his tie, “Take one of my old ones. I have plenty… and with the way ya drive I shouldn’t be spendin’ so much goddamn money on somethin’ new and shiny because you’re bored of your other toys.”
“Joel,” you pout, entwining your fingers in front of you to make your arms squeeze your breasts together tightly while you push out your bottom lip. 
“That ain’t my name,” he replies and briefly looks down at your cleavage, “And what? The little princess didn’t like her pony? You’re so fuckin’ spoiled. A dumb cliché.” 
“Daddy,” you correct yourself and he nods once. You walk backward towards the bed, crawling onto it and making sure he watches you with every step you take, teasing the bottomless panties while doing it. You sit on your knees, his favorite submissive position, and smile with the hope of making his dick hard. It’ll make this so much easier, “Please. I can earn it. I can be a good girl.”
“Show me whatcha got,” he tells you, his tone letting you know that his attention is fleeting so you better make use of it now that you have it. 
You lay down on your front, propping yourself up on your elbows by resting your chin in your hands. You give him a sweet, doe-eyed smile, “Honey, you’ve had such a long day.”
“Nope,” he rejects the fantasy with a bored expression but still takes one step closer to the bed, “Try again.”
You try not to let him see the frustration on your face that your first fantasy fell through, recovering quickly by getting up on your slightly-spread knees. You grab the end of the bed, leaning forward to make your position even more provocative. 
“It’s my first time, Daddy,” you say with a pout, blinking your long lashes at him, “I’m a little nervous. I’m so wet between my legs. Can you tell me what’s happening to me?” 
Even as Joel swallows thickly, he shakes his head while he walks to the side of the bed. He stares at you from a few feet away from the edge, “No. Again.” 
You notice that he is getting hard but you know him well enough to tell that it is from the game that you are playing with each other right now and not from how you look or act. He gets off on the power he has over you, and you feel yourself getting excited from it too. 
Power. That’s the one. 
You crawl forward and lay down on your back on the vulgarly huge bed, staring up at him as you swing your legs out over the edge of it. You spread them slowly to make his gaze burn, revealing the heart-shaped hole in your panties and your soaked pussy that he can slide into if he wants. All he has to do is take a few steps forward and lift your thighs over his hips. 
Joel is too easy sometimes but mostly when he’s in one of his good moods. He stands beside the bed not a second later, looking down at you with awaiting eyes. You know exactly which words to make him fuck you until you cry, even feel a little silly that it hadn’t occurred to you the second you saw him enter the house. 
You give him a hazy look, holding your thighs open for him. His gaze bores into yours and you swear that he can read your mind. Even so, you don’t blink or cower under the look of God. 
“You’re my king, Daddy.”
“Attagirl, that’s better,” he praises to make your skin prickle and your chest feel ablaze.
Something in Joel’s eyes darkens with the idea of being superior in every way and the spark of fire that you have ignited only seems to grow when you don’t try to act like this isn’t the case but instead give in and let him know just how beneath him you are. Figuratively and literally. 
He reaches for his belt, unbuckling it with rough hands as he plans your demise in his head, all kindness seeping out of his face as if the way he praised you seconds ago simply didn’t happen. There’s something about those Shinigami eyes, teasing the border between fear and arousal. The urgency of his movements tells you that it’ll hurt for days but the pretty things that you’ll receive in return are worth not being able to stand upright for a while. You calm your beating heart by listing cars in your mind, choosing colors, models, and leather seats. 
You return to reality when you hear Joel’s fingers snap in front of your face. He sneers, kneeling on the bed with one knee and pulling off his tie completely, “Don’tcha fuckin’ think you get to decide what car you’re gettin’, honey. If you want one, I decide. We clear?”
You watch with pleading eyes, knowing you should say something but faltering because all you want to do is complain about his decision. There goes that dream of an expensive Aston Martin, the one that has kept you scrolling through your phone.
“You dare make your King wait?” He spits harshly when you don’t answer quickly enough, his eyes going practically black with rage. There’s no emotion in them anymore, not even when you whimper at his tone. He reaches out for your arms, violently yanking them towards himself so he can wrap the tie around your wrists, and the panic that you feel suddenly starts to make you cry. He ties a painful knot, securing your arms tightly until he pushes them over your head, “You don’t behave then you don’t getta touch.” 
You whine with tears at the corners of your eyes, looking away in shame in the way that he likes. However, it is actually a punishment because you do really like touching him - or at least just hold onto him, which you still can but you don’t dare move your arms back down - when he fucks you. The avoidance of his powerful eyes earns you a slap to your right breast, and you yelp in surprise. 
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you babble, barely able to croak out a coherent reply whilst you twist on the sheets from the unprepared sting to your chest. As you turn your body to the side, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from more painful strikes, you curl in on yourself and thus pull your legs shut, “You know best, I-I know. I understand.”
“Lie still, ya bimbo. I saw that hole between ya legs drippin’ wet, so you’re gonna lemme use it or you won’t get as much as a damn penny for your stupid new obsession,” he curls his calloused hands around your thighs until they dent the skin and maneuvers you onto back once more. He holds your legs open, knees pressing into the mattress until you feel as though your hips might dislocate. He stares down between your legs, smiling to himself at the heart shape in your panties. The stitching of it is coated in your slick, obscene in how creamy and white it is compared to the emerald color of the fabric. Joel makes a primal sound, “Daddy fuckin’ likes. God, I am gonna ruin ya, baby, ruin this well-behaved pussy.”
“Just for you, Daddy. It’s all just for you, I promise, money or not,” you cry quietly with your bottom lip sticking out, wiggling your hips as much as you can under his powerful weight to show how desperate you are for him. You want to tell him that he already has ruined you. Oh, how thoroughly he has ruined you and ruined everyone else for you. However, no one should make the mistake of thinking you have not let him, no, you have waited for him to find you in a sea of unimportant and tedious nobodies, and fuck, you love him for it. Even if he makes you cry. 
“That’s right, just f’me,” he smiles down at you almost tenderly whilst removing one hand from your thigh to undo his pants. You smile with wet cheeks, eyes glazed over as he hurries to get his cock out, the head red and angry from not having enough attention. You put on a show of looking like your life depends entirely upon whether he gets inside of you soon. 
“You want Daddy to fuck ya? Fuck ya so I’ll give in like I always fuckin’ do?” He aligns himself with you, gliding the thick head of his length through your soaked folds. 
“Please,” you choke out feebly when he starts to spear you on his dick, feeding you inch by inch with his girth until your whole lower body buzzes with greed. Your tied-up hands grip the sheets above your head, your breath shaky as he drapes your thighs over his hips when he has bottomed out inside you. 
Your voice wavers as he starts moving inside of you, setting a painful pace that has your eyes rolling back into your skull, your body thrashing, and your moans climbing in pitch like you are possessed. He knows what you like and you can feel he might be generous about it today. After all, you’ve put in so much effort to look nice and what would a King be if he couldn’t exceed in everything? That means even your pleasure.
He leans over you when you tighten your legs around his waist, rough hands settling on your hip bones so he can grind harshly into you. You beg for him, pleading his name as if in prayer again and again. His pelvis nudges at your swollen yet untouched clit. It causes you to scream and grab harder at the sheets as your orgasm builds up fast. You sob on the shaking bed as he puts more effort into each thrust. The head of his cock molds you to fit him each time, reaching something inside of you that has you sizzling with ecstasy in a way that no man has ever made possible before. You didn’t even know you could come like this, so intensely, before you met him but despite his talent, he is cruel even in his generosity. 
“You’re gettin’ fucked for a dumb car, you know that?” He growls above you, staring down at your wide eyes and open mouth. He moans with a smirk, “You know what that makes ya?” 
He keeps you on the edge with his thrusts, teasing an orgasm that he doesn’t allow to come yet. In the most frustrating of ways, you find that even if he exceeds in making you come, it’s not a given that he’ll just hand it over to you. Nothing is ever out of the goodness of his heart. You nod frantically as if it’ll make him think you are anything other than pathetic, “Yes! Oh God, yes, please.”
“Say it, sweetheart,” he demands, splaying a hand on your chest and letting it travel up to rest on your neck. However, he doesn’t squeeze to watch your face heat up in panic or push his merciless thumb into your windpipe. Instead, he waits for you to follow orders. 
“A whore, Daddy,” you reply with a whimper, driven crazy by the unreleased tension in your lower belly. You scrunch your eyebrows, “Please— ah, l-let me come.”
“That’s right, a filthy, little, gold-diggin’ whore,” he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a laugh and a moan. Those words make your cunt clench around his cock, walls squeezing enough to make him switch up his pace. His thrusts become sharp and erratic, sending you hurtling towards your high so quickly that you throw your head back and involuntarily twist your arms as much as you can. 
You come with Joel’s violent grip on your throat, with your tits bouncing in the skimpy outfit and your pussy gushing on his dick when your clit happily gets its way. He follows behind you, panting in exhaustion as he finally gets pushed over the edge by how you pulse around him with each beat of your fluttering heart. He is warm inside you, making a mess of your panties with how much already spills out of you around his girth. 
It’s intense even in its aftermath. None of you move for a moment and the body heat radiating from you to him and vice versa has you sticking to each other. Joel has a palm on the bed while the other grabs at one of your thighs that are still slung around his body. He strokes up and down to soothe you but only to slip loose of the hot choke of your pussy. 
You look up at him with a soft whimper when you’re left empty, knowing not to say any actual words yet. Silently, he unties your wrist and you gaze longingly at him as he leans over you to do so. He is so commanding even when he has not uttered a word. Above you, he looks so beautifully disheveled - some of his curls have fallen into his forehead, one sticks to the sweat there - and when he is done, he quietly starts unbuttoning his shirt. 
Once naked on his chest, he stares and thinks about something for less than a second. He is quick in his evaluation of the situation, finally stepping out of his bottoms. He takes his time to dig into the pocket of his discarded pants, retrieving his wallet and you wait as patiently as you can muster as the anticipation grows.
“I think that dirty fuck deserves an Aston Martin at the very least, don’tcha think?” He smiles knowingly but it doesn’t reach his eyes and places his sleek black card on the bed. You hear him mutter the word pathetic as you reach for the card but when you peek up at him, you can see the way he takes pleasure in rewarding you when you so successfully display the thrill you feel in earning it. 
Your body aches but you prop yourself up on your elbows, grinning with tear-streaked cheeks, “Thank you, Daddy.” 
Joel leans down over you once more, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss and tangling his hand in your hair to make you unable to pull back. He knows how to show you who is in charge but he sets it in stone when he only draws back an inch after breaking the kiss again. 
“Remember, baby,” he murmurs, voice raspy with sex, “You only get what you deserve and you’ve been very deservin’ today.”
“Can I shower with you?” You smile sweetly. It seems like the right time to ask for a bit of intimacy. 
Joel huffs a laugh and shakes his head, “No. Lie in it.”
He disappears after that. Your smile does too.
.
.
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544 notes · View notes
reystenius-01 · 5 months
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Sweet and Sour
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Summary: Alexia comes home from that game to a sick reader. Comfort and fluff ensues.
(okay theres a bit of angst as well, i couldn't help myself, im sorry 😭)
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Alexia didn’t know whether to cry, to yell, or to hurl a water bottle against the nearest surface. They had lost. Barça had lost. Their first defeat of the season could not have come at a more dangerous time, in the first leg of the Champions League Semi-Final. 
It was their first home defeat in five years, as well.
And to add salt to the wound, you weren’t around. You weren’t at the game today. You were at home, incredibly ill to the point where looking at a screen hurt your brain. You weren’t there for Alexia to cling onto, to reassure her that everything would come up blaugrana at the end of the day.
At least, though, you were at home, getting better for the second leg. You’d save them, Alexia told herself, as she applauded the fans for coming and attending. The fans deserved better than whatever the hell that performance was out there.
God, it kept replaying in her head. That miss. That fucking miss.
She could’ve levelled it, put her team on some somewhat stable ground for the away leg at Stamford Bridge. A part of her shattered when that ball went wide, it took majority of her willpower to get right back up afterwards. 
The little head-slaps she usually gave Vicky were lighter now, only just. As much as Alexia would love to give Jona a piece of her mind (she’d do that tomorrow at the latest), you were waiting for her at home. 
The mere thought nearly brought her to her knees. 
Though she knew that you would understand, that you would be the usual radiating beam of positivity that you always were despite feeling like you got hit by a truck, a part of her feared that you’d be disappointed, not just of the team, but of her.
Alexia was brought out of her thoughts as Jona walked into the locker room. The usual post-match speeches were given, but a chunk of Alexia’s brain was just all mush after that game. It was mostly a blur, and she could hardly remember what she had said in her own speech. Thankfully, she didn’t need to do media. The last thing she needed right now, especially in her current headspace, was for some reporters trying to bait her into making a scathing comment.
She wanted to go home to you. And at the same time, she didn’t.
The team bus was mostly silent on the way back to the training ground, a few of the girls conversing in hushed tones, some faint music coming from the back of the bus. Alexia hadn’t texted you yet. You needed the sleep, so you could get better and get back to the team.
Salma’s head was on her shoulder, the girl having fallen asleep a few minutes into the bus ride. Alexia’s heart went out to the girl, and she had encouraged her to keep her head up. 
The minutes went by like a blur, and before Alexia knew it, they were back at the training ground. The radio played faintly in her car as she drove back to your shared home, making a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up your antibiotics, since the pharmacist had called her to let her know that your required dose for tonight was ready.
The first thing Alexia noticed when she got home was the smell of soup. You must’ve made some boxed instant soup or something, her thoughts confirmed when she saw the box and the seasoning packets. There was still some soup left in the pot on the stove. Well, there was dinner sorted.
She set the bag from the pharmacy down on the kitchen counter before heading upstairs to check on you. She quietly entered the bedroom, and saw you curled up in bed, your breathing steady and peaceful. She smiled softly, grateful to see you resting. You could be a little stubborn at times.
Carefully, she approached the bed and sat down beside you, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, also gently holding her hand against your forehead to check on your fever. Thankfully, it wasn’t that bad anymore.
“Hey, amor,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. “I’m home.”
You stirred slightly, blinking sleepily as you looked up at her. “Hey, pretty girl,” you murmured, clearing your throat and sitting up a bit so you could lean against the headboard. “How are you? How was the game?”
Alexia hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. She didn't want to disappoint you with the loss, especially when you were just starting to feel better.
“It was... challenging,” she said finally, hating how small she sounded. “But you know how it is. Win some, lose some.”
Your brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in your eyes. You knew your girlfriend the same way you knew how to breathe. There was no way she’d ever use the words ‘win some, lose some’ to describe a game, especially a Champions League semi-final, at home no less. 
​​You studied her for a moment, your eyes searching her face. “Lex, what's wrong?” you asked gently, sensing her reluctance to talk about it.
Alexia hesitated, her heart heavy with the weight of her missed chance, chewing a little on the inside of her cheek. “I... I had a chance to level the score,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I missed.”
Your heart broke then and there, not because of the loss at all. Your girlfriend, the Alexia Putellas and the two-time Ballon D’or winner looked so… small in front of you. Your expression softened with understanding, and you reached out to take her hand in yours. “Hey, it's okay,” you said soothingly, your voice filled with reassurance. “That’s football, love.”
Alexia noticed you shift closer to her a bit, your thumb stroking the back of her hand gently. You were keeping your distance a bit, not wanting to get your girlfriend sick, even more so now.
“But it was such an important game,” Alexia said, her voice trembling with emotion. “And I let everyone down.”
You shook your head, gently squeezing her hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Lex. You gave it your all out there, and that's all anyone can ask for. We win and lose as a team,” Alexia wasn’t looking at you, but you were looking at her, studying her. You could see her biting her bottom lip to keep herself from crying in front of you. “Mi vida, mírame.”
Alexia nibbled on her lip some more, before shaking her head. Your hand left hers, reaching up to gently hold her chin and encourage her to look at you. “Ale, mi niña bonita. Please look at me.”
She let you turn her face to face yours, and your thumb immediately reaching up to wipe away the tears that were escaping the corners of those gorgeous hazel eyes.
Your heart ached for her. She looked so vulnerable in that moment, and it pained you to see her so torn up over the match. “Alexia, listen to me,” you said, your voice firm but gentle as you wiped away her tears, albeit a little croaky as well. “You are so much more than just one missed chance. You are strong, talented, and resilient. And no matter what happens on the field, I am always going to be proud of you.”
Alexia's breath caught in her throat as she looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Don't apologise, amor,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Alexia shook her head, a shaky sigh escaping her lips. “I just... I hate feeling like I disappointed the team, the fans… and you.”
You reached out, cupping her cheek gently in your hand. “You didn't let anyone down, Ale,” you insisted, completely sure of what you were saying. “You're an incredible player and an amazing captain. And I couldn't be prouder of you–”
You doubled over, turning your head away to cough into your arm, your other hand patting your chest. 
“Amor,” Alexia all but jumped to your side, hand rubbing your back despite you trying to keep her at a distance so that she didn’t get sick.
“I’m…” Another stream of coughs escaped you, and Alexia pulled away briefly to pour you a glass of water. “I’m fine, Ale, thank you.”
You accepted the glass, taking a few sips to soothe the irritation you felt in your throat, massaging it gently. “Maybe you should take some medicine,” she suggested, worry evident for your health.
“After this,” you set the glass on the bedside table, grabbing Alexia’s hands again and getting her to sit beside you. “It's okay to feel disappointed, Lex, but don't let one moment define you. You are capable of so much more than you realise, and I know you know that.”
Tears continued to stream down Alexia's cheeks, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes as she listened to your words. “I just want to make you proud,” she admitted, her voice slightly above a whisper, sounding more like herself now.
“Oh, bebita,” you murmured, your voice soft just like your smile as you bunched up your sleeve, wiping at Alexia’s cheeks. “You already make me proud every single day.”
Alexia sniffled, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Even when I miss crucial chances in important games?”
“Even then,” you replied without hesitation, your gaze locked with hers. “Because you give your all out there, and you never give up. You always fight, and fight to make up for it.”
“You always know just what to say,” she whispered, a soft sigh escaping her as she looked at you.
“What can I say? I’m just so wise,” you replied, pulling a face, making Alexia chuckle and lightly shove your shoulder. “Hey, no bullying the weak and feeble!”
“You aren’t f-fuh–?” Alexia tried to copy your pronunciation, and with each attempt, your smile grew. “Amor!”
“What?” 
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Just…” Alexia put her hands on your shoulders. “You’re not weak.”
“I know, mi amor, I know. You aren’t either,” you put one of your hands on top of one of hers, gently caressing her knuckles. “We’re still in it. We’ve been here before, no?” You looked at her knowingly, yet so softly and so full of love.
“Mhm,” she hummed, her smile getting bigger.
“We just need a bit of faith and trust. No matter what happens, win or lose, you’re one of the most amazing people in my life,” you reached out to run your hand through Alexia’s hair, still a bit damp from her post-match shower. “Want me to brush your hair?”
“I want you… to take your medicine,” Alexia said with a smile, and you groaned.
“Is it the tablets?”
Alexia pursed her lips as she stood up, stifling a smile as she held out her hands for you to help yourself up out of bed.
“Amor,” you whined, kicking your feet a little like a child being denied ice cream from a street vendor.
“Come on, my tough and pretty and sexy girl,” Alexia wiggled her fingers. “You can handle a few pills, lovely.”
“I told you that a few months ago, and you banished me to an air mattress on the floor because you didn’t want me catching whatever bug you had,” You held onto her hands, standing up. Alexia’s large hands patted your waist a little before holding you gently. It was an adorable habit of hers. “And then, you proceeded to beg for me to come to bed with you just because you couldn’t stand being apart from me for the night.”
“Come, come,” Alexia had a smile on her face as you went on your little rant, leading you down the stairs to your inevitable fate of having to ingest some pills. You hated the feeling of pills in your throat, even when you took them with water. “Don’t be stubborn.”
“Alexia, don’t be mean to me, I am ill,” you stopped at the bottom step, Alexia looking up at you slightly, tilting her head and smiling at the sight of you pouting.
 You grumbled when she wrapped her arms around your waist and picked you up into her arms, begrudgingly wrapping your legs around her waist to hold onto her as she carried you into the kitchen, “Be careful, you played a rough half of football.”
Alexia glanced at you, brow furrowed. You weren’t supposed to be on your phone or any technology for that matter.
“Mapi called,” you smiled innocently, fingers scratching her scalp, the midfielder closing her eyes at the feeling briefly. “It’s been a while since she used short sentences.” Alexia winced. “Too soon, yep, sorry.”
“The doctor said you need to have three tablets–” Alexia braced herself for the mush of words that were about to come out of your mouth.
“Amor!”
-----
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sunsetsimon · 6 months
Note
not smutty but, what do you think the boys love languages are?
(sorry if you already answered this)
also, love your blog and so relieved to hear that you’re okay🩷🩷
thank you so much darling <3
johnny's love language is physical touch. he feels most connected to you when he's able to cuddle, hug, and hold you. deployments become harder the longer you're together as he doesn't want to be gone as long. phone calls and letters matter to him greatly of course, but all he can think about is having you back in his arms.
some of his favorite things to do are giving you massages, showering/bathing together, cuddling, and holding hands. he's always sneaking his hand under the table to grab yours, pulling it to rest on his thigh so he can play with your fingers. lightly rubbing each knuckle, his soft touch tickles you, a silent way for him to say "i love you".
his favorite place for you to touch him is on the back of his neck.
simon's love language is quality time. all he wants to do is be around you, even if there's no talking involved. having your presence calms him and makes him feel complete. you constantly catch him staring at you, his eyes following you every time you move around the room as if he'd miss something. don't even think about being slick about something, simon will see it!
his favorite part of the day is winding down in bed with you, reading his book while you lay beside him, searching for a show to watch on the tv. if you're going out to do something, he automatically assumes that he'll be going with you. what do you mean you're going to the store without him? :( of course he still gives you your space, but if you ask him, he'll say he doesn't need any.
si is clingy in his own little ways <3
kyle's love language is words of affirmation. he loves to talk to you, sharing new thoughts and facts with each other constantly. he’s listening of course, keeping every word locked in a special corner of his mind, dedicated for you. but he can’t help but get distracted by your beauty. those lips that he loves to kiss so much, your facial expressions that he loves to read, your gestures that he loves to watch, kyle is so smitten.
“you’re so beautiful,” he says randomly, after you’ve just spent the last few minutes explaining the book you’ve been reading. it takes you aback, blinking at him until you realize what he’d said.
“thank you,” you blush, completely forgetting what you’d just been saying. his gaze suddenly feels intense, the love radiating off of his body and filling the room.
“c’mere and give me a kiss.”
john's love language is acts of service. no matter how much you beg him to relax, he feels the constant need to be doing something. and what better to stay busy with than doing everything for his partner? if he knows that it’ll take you energy to do it, he’s making sure it gets done before you can even think about it!
keeping the bills in order, cleaning, cooking dinner, grocery shopping, you name it - john’s on it. he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing mundane life things, but he feels fulfilled when he’s able to take care of you in more ways than just financially.
you have to beg him to just relax with you, to order take out and cuddle while watching random movies all night. of course he can’t resist you though, anything to make his partner happy :)
könig's love language is physical touch! he's not one for PDA, but he will rest his hand at the small of your back just to guide you and keep you close. good luck escaping him at home though, because he'll find any excuse to touch you!
back hugs, gripping your thigh, washing you in the shower, he wants it all. könig is huge, about twice the size of most humans, so he uses this to his advantage to trap you in bed with him. his body pins you to the mattress, forcing you to submit to his nonstop cuddles.
“where are you trying to go? everything you need is right here,” he says, pointing to himself as you squirm underneath him.
“the restroom isn’t! so let me go pee!”
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wosoamazing · 8 months
Text
Sick
Summary: You get sick at training and no one can get a hold of Leah
Warnings: Sick, angst??, IDK
A/N: decided to give you all another fic. I hope you like this one, I don't know how good it is.... also please do send requests in, I want to make sure I'm writing things people will enjoy.
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Training today just felt harder than usual, yes you had off days, but something was different, it wasn’t just that you weren’t playing as well, you were hotter, you were running out of breath quicker than usual, you head hurt slightly. Everyone around you noticed but didn’t want to say anything, your teenage hormones were at their peak currently, as Leah put it and you were quick to snap at anyone for no real reason. You stayed quite about it though and just tried to push through, that was until you felt like you were going to pass out and you decided you should probably sit down. So, you went up to Jonas.
“Y/N, how can I help you?”
“Umm, I’m just feeling a little hot, was just wondering if I could sit down for a bit,” “yeah sure why don’t you go inside to the dining room and sit down there, it will be cooler in there than out here, lunch is only 25 or so away anyway,” “Thanks Jonas,” you said, and you turned around, probably a little too fast as everything spun, you stumbled a little and shut your eyes, hoping that no one noticed you continued to make your way into the dining room and sat on one of the chairs, everything was still slightly spinning but it wasn’t too bad. Just as you were about to rest your head on the table you heard footsteps which grew louder, until they stopped, and Katie was standing next to you.
“Hey,” you mumbled.
“Hey, Jonas sent me in here to check on you. You okay?”
“No, I feel like crap” you replied. It was the truth. In an effort to feel better, you shut your eyes and rested your head on the table, it was cool to touch, Katie put her hand on the back of your neck, and she winced at the heat that was radiating off you.
“I think you need to go see a medic.”
“No, I’m fine.” you snapped.
“Okay, well I’ll leave you to it then,” she stood up starting to walk out.
“Katie,” you softly cried out, she looked back at you “can you stay?”
“Only if you let me get a medic to look at you,” she tried compromising.
“Fine.” You sighed. Katie messaged someone on her phone and a few minutes later one of the medics came in. “38.7, not too bad, get her to take two of these and try and see if you can get her sister to take her home, if she is still here in about 45 minutes, we will come check on her again. Also get her to drink the rest of that and another one at least” The medic said to Katie pointing at your water bottle, Katie nodded. “Oh, and have one of these,” Katie screwed her face up at the sight of the emesis bag she really couldn’t handle that type of sick, “look she shouldn’t need it but it’s better to be safe than sorry.” Katie nodded agreeing with that statement. She got you to take two Panadol and to drink some water before you fell asleep. She did wake you every ten minutes to drink some more water however you didn’t really remember that.
“Hey, can you sit up for just a sec,” you look up to see the medic, she takes your temperature and checks your breathing. “39.1” the medic and Katie look at each other you place your head back on the table, and whimper slightly at the movement of your head, however the table felt nice on your head as it was cool.
“Where the fuck is Leah! Why isn’t she answering her phone,” Katie yelled becoming more furious with Leah by the second.
“Why don’t you just take her home?” Kim asked.
“Because Leah is a genius. Who doesn’t give their 16-year-old sister a key? and she refuses to let me take her to mine.” Katie replies
“You could call Sarina,” you decided to chime in.
“What’s her number though?” “Give it here,” you put Sarina’s number into Katies phone, Katie quickly pressed the call button and to her amusement Sarina picked up.
“Hi Sarina, its Katie McCabe, I am really sorry to be calling but we have Y/F/N here and she isn’t feeling well at all, and we have been trying to get a hold of Leah for 45 minutes but she won’t answer, and we understand she is doing important media duties however Y/N does have a temperature of 39.1C, and we think it would be best if she went home.” There was a pause, Sarina must’ve been talking “Okay, thank you so much, so sorry again. Bye”
“She’s coming,” everyone let out a sigh of relief, they hated seeing you so sick and helpless knowing that Leah was the one thing that might make you feel better.
“Leah?” you questioned, starting to cry.
“Yeah, she’s coming, like 10 minutes,” Katie said as she started to rub your back, you placed your head back on the table and continued to cry, you just felt so sick and wanted your sister.
“Hey, I’m here.” Leah said as she rounded the corner, her heart melting at the scene in front of her. You were still crying head on the table, Katie was still rubbing your back looking like she might cry at any moment, she just wanted to help, and she couldn’t.
“Oh, bug.” Leah cooed at the sight, and she continued towards you, you lifted you head up tears still falling. She kneeled down beside you and put her hand on your forehead, she winced and looked at Katie, “39.1 last we checked.”
“Bug, I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner.” She said, ready to cry herself.
“Can we go home?” you whimpered, as she pulled you in for a hug, she noticed the slight dampness of your skin.
“Let me go talk to the medic first,” she said as she stood up.
“I’ll go get her stuff for you,” Lia said as she went to the locker room. The girls remaining all looked at each other, you couldn’t resist a smirk.
“Why do you have two bags Lia?” your sister questioned.
“Le, don’t do this, I’ve spoken to Jonas, and he agrees that you’re going to need help, come on I’ll drive you home.” She replied.
“Carry me?” you whined looking at your sister who sighed before picking you up and taking you home, the girls all made eyes at each other as the three of you walked out.
_______
“Le, I’m back” Lia said as she walked through the door. “We’re still in here.” Leah replied, she was sitting up against the head board of her bed, you had your head in her lap and your body laid parallel to the headboard, your training top was on the end of the bed and you were just in your crop top and training shorts, Leah had taken your shirt off in hopes of cooling you down, your sweaty body was making the sheets slightly damp, as she rain her fingers through your hair.
“Hey” Lia said softly as she walked into the room, carrying the bag of items she bought to help you. “What you got in there” Leah asked looking at the quite full bag.
“Just the essentials,” Lia pulled out some medicine first, then some hydrolyte, followed by a thermometer “I guessed you didn’t have one of these,” she pulled some more items out “Oh and I got some of these,” Leah’s brow furrowed at the sight of the emesis bags, “they might come in handy one day” Lia said as she shrugged.
“Thank you, Lia for everything not just for today” your sister replied.
“It’s no problem, how is she?”
“I don’t really know, she never gets sick it’s been years, I’m just really worried. Should we check her temperature again?” with of nod of Lia’s head they pulled the thermometer out of its packing and checked your temperature. “Shit,” Lia’s brow furrowed “39.5, what do we do Li, do we take her to the hospital, the doctor?” Leah said heartbroken a tear rolling down her check.
“She hasn’t had any medicine yet has she?” Lia questioned.
“I think they gave her some Panadol at the colony but other than that no”
“Okay well we’ll give her some ibuprofen, and help her take a lukewarm bath, and if her temperature hasn’t gone down or if it goes up after 30 minutes, we can take her to the hospital, how does that sound?” Leah just nodded agreeing with Lia, she just wanted to help you but in this moment she felt helpless. “You give her the medicine and I’ll start the bath”.
“Bug, can you wake up for me?” Leah said softly shaking you. You sat up, leaning against the headboard, resting you head on the wall.
“Here can you take this, it will help you feel better,” Leah said handing you two tablets and your water bottle, you took them and then went to lay back down on Leah, but she stopped you, as the bath was now ready.
“Bug we’re going to put you in the bath for a little while,” you groan at Leah’s words, she helps you up and places you in the bath still clothed. She let you sit there while she went to get the pair of you new clothes, nothing fancy of course, just some PJs. After your bath Leah helped you get changed before carrying you back to the bedroom.
“Oh, you didn’t have to Lia,” she said noticing Lia was just finishing off changing the sheets on the bed.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s all good, here have this” she said as she placed a pillow down for you and Leah. You laid between the two girls with your head resting on Leah’s arm, they rechecked your temperature and it was now back to 39.1, they weren’t super happy with it but happy enough not to take you to the hospital, you spent the next four days in bed sick, Leah and Lia both trying to help you get better.
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writtenbymoonflower · 2 months
Note
omg i have a request !!! i don't think our bb james is much of a fighter, but imagine if someone just say something about reader that just hits a nerve, and poor bb literally gives himself a panic attack, to a point where reader is just pushing him away and trying to get him to breathe with her :((( just reassuring him and giving him all the love in the world !!! ofc u don't have to if u don't wanna ily !!!
i love this! thank you so much hunny! James Potter x fem!reader
cw: mentions of drinking, pressuring someone to drink, ‘b word’ used as a derogatory term, swearing
735 words
Despite the bitter chill in the air, you felt clammy and cramped. The campfire radiating warmth into your face was pleasant, but the overcrowding of bodies sitting next to you wasn’t as much. You leaned onto James’ chest, snuggling closer when he put a long arm around your shivering shoulders. The night was winding down from Sirius’ party, only a few people remained, all sharing the leftover drinks around the fire. The small amount of alcohol you had drank that night was sitting in your stomach like a brick and you couldn’t wait to get home and sleep it off. Your eyes were just drifting closed when they snapped wide open, a cold bottle pressed against painfully your bare shoulder. 
You looked up to see the person next to you trying to hand off a beer bottle to you. He was looking at you nicely enough, but you still declined. 
“I’m okay, thank you though.” You gave him a polite smile before turning back to James, who you could tell was reigning in his overprotectiveness. 
“C’mon, girly. One won’t hurt.” He pressed the bottle closer. “You’re not even buzzed, I can tell.” 
You stayed friendly but your tone was firmer. “I promise I’m fine. I’m sure someone else wants another though.” You cut your eyes to Remus and Sirius and their pile of empty beer and cider bottles next to them, laying scattered like an army fallen. 
“You sure?” The man sing-songed, pressing the cold bottle to your neck, wet with condensation. You flinched away. 
“Mate, pack it in. She said she didn’t want any.” James pulled you closer protectively. He wasn’t necessarily harsh, but the lack of joviality in his tone was chilling for those who know him well. The man took on a defensive nature, but was still attempting to appease James. 
“I’m doing this for you man.” He waggled his brows at James knowingly. “I’m sure she’s loads more fun loosened up.” You felt James stiffen but he didn’t have a chance to respond before the man looked at you, half joking, half irritation. “C’mon stop being such a frigid bitch and have a drink.” 
James shot up, swiftly moving so that he was between you and the man. “What the fuck did you just say?” The guy was floundering, backpedaling fast. 
“I’m just playing! Didn’t think you would be upset, shit.” He scooted away from your seething boyfriend. 
“You didn’t think I would be upset that you called my girlfriend a- that word? Are you really that fucking thick?” James snapped. He got closer to the guy's face before you tugged his hand. 
“James, calm down, it’s okay.” You stood up to gently tug him away. 
“Yeah, man. Listen to your bird-” He started, but then James snapped his head back, eyes ablaze. 
“McLaggen, mate, just leave.” Sirius said, harshly. 
“What? Sirius, c’mon. It’s a jo-” He stood up. Remus marched over, helping him to get his stuff. 
“Well it wasn’t fucking funny. You don’t say that shit here.” Remus said coldly. Their chatter moved away as he marched the offending man away from the fire. James looked like he was going to yell something after him, but he stopped. 
“It’s okay, Jamie.” You soothed, pulling him away as well. 
“It’s not.” He reiterated. “I can’t belie- I’m so sorry angel. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He hugged you tight. 
“I’m okay, he didn’t. You don’t need to be sorry. It was just a stupid guy, not nearly the worst I’ve encountered.” You laughed.
“That does not make it better.” He huffed like an angry puppy. “I can’t believe some people think that’s an okay thing to call a girl. My mam would’ve had my head if I ever said that.” 
“Not everyone is as amazing as you, honey. And a lot of people are worse than that guy.” You rubbed a hand up and down his tense arm. 
He at you wide-eyed. “Okay, well firstly, someone isn't 'amazing' for not being an asshole, that's just not being horrendous. And secondly.” He was half concern half immense confusion. “Who all has been like that to you? How many lads have been like him? I want names and dates, lovely.” 
“James,” You lovingly scoffed. “I love you. I love how protective you are of me, but I really am okay. Some people are just dickheads, it’s part of life.” 
He grunted, pulling you back into his arms. “Just because it's a part of life doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He kissed the top of your head firmly. “I love you too.” 
“Do you want to go back?” You asked softly, rubbing the thick curls at the base of his neck.
“Can we stay like this for a bit longer? I just- need to hold onto you.” His biceps strained around you from how tightly you were being held.
You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his comforting scent. “Okay.”
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months
Text
Be Kind
But if you're gonna fight then do it for me (4)
Scarlet Witch x Witch!Reader x Wanda Maximoff
Summary: Your Goddess defends you, transforming her into something different.
Word Count: 2.6K
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls SW Goddess, SW refers to R as pet, W calls R baby, R calls Wanda Mommy
A/N: The final chapter for these three. I loved them so very much and I hope you guys did too!
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As a stray bolt of Doctor Strange's magic came hurtling towards you, you instinctively flinched, curling up into a defensive ball. But the Scarlet Witch was quicker. With a wave of her hand, she deflected the attack, her magic flaring brighter and more intense.
"Stay behind me, pet," she commanded, her voice distorted but unmistakably protective. You peeked up at her from your curled position, awestruck and terrified by her new form. The intricate, dark design of her mask and the raw power emanating from her made her look like a dark guardian, ready to do anything to keep you safe.
Doctor Strange hesitated for a moment, clearly taken aback by the Scarlet Witch's transformation. "Wanda, this isn't the way," he pleaded, trying to reason with her.
But the Scarlet Witch was beyond reason. "She is mine," she hissed, her voice echoing with power. "I will protect her at all costs."
With that, the battle resumed, even more intense than before. The Scarlet Witch's magic swirled around you, creating a shield that absorbed the impact of Doctor Strange's attacks. You could feel the heat and energy of the battle, but you knew that as long as your Goddess was there, you would be protected.
The battle raged on with neither side letting up. Spells clashed in the air, creating bursts of light and energy that lit up the field. The Scarlet Witch was relentless, her fury unmatched as she defended you. Eventually, realizing the battle was at a stalemate, she threw up a barrier and then summoned a portal.
With a swift motion, she picked you up effortlessly, her new form radiating both power and protectiveness. She hopped through the portal, taking you back home in an instant. You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her body despite her fearsome appearance.
As you arrived back home, she held you tightly against her, her heartbeat quick and steady against your ear. Despite the distorted nature of her voice, you could hear the sincerity and determination in her words. "I won't let anyone take you from me, Y/N," she mumbled softly, almost to herself.
You nestled closer, feeling a mixture of fear and comfort. The Scarlet Witch, your Goddess, had fought fiercely to protect you, and in that moment, you knew that she would go to any lengths to keep you safe. The bond between you felt unbreakable, forged stronger through the fire of battle and the depth of her unwavering devotion.
You looked up at her, taking in her new appearance. Your hands moved up to cup her cheeks, feeling the black veins running down her skin, now pale. Her once beautiful crown was now a part of her face, and her eyes glowed red behind the barred mask. "I must be terrifying right now..." she admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
"No...you're my Goddess. You're always beautiful..." you whispered, your heart swelling with affection and loyalty. Without thinking, you leaned up and placed your lips on hers for the first time. The kiss was soft, a mix of love and reverence. When you pulled back, her appearance had shifted back to normal, her red eyes softening to the familiar green.
Your mind flickered to the thought of true love's kiss from all those fairy tales you were read growing up. Could it be that simple? The transformation, the intensity of her protective nature, all seemed to melt away with that one genuine act of love.
She looked down at you, her eyes searching yours. "You truly are devoted to me," she said softly, a smile playing on her lips. "I don't deserve you, but I will protect you with everything I have."
You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "And I will always be here for you, my Goddess," you replied, snuggling closer to her, feeling the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her heart. In that moment, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, the bond you shared was unbreakable.
==========
Following the battle with Strange, the Scarlet Witch decided it would be best to find a new spot to live. With her magic, it didn't take much for the two of you to move house. She packed up everything effortlessly, red energy swirling around the objects and neatly placing them into boxes. You watched in awe as the familiar surroundings of your old home were transformed into organized stacks, ready for the journey.
The new cottage was nestled deep in the middle of the woods, miles and miles from anyone else. It was quaint and charming, surrounded by towering trees and the serene sounds of nature. A perfect sanctuary, hidden away from prying eyes and potential threats.
As you arrived, the Scarlet Witch began unpacking with the same ease, her magic making light work of the task. You stood at the edge of the clearing, taking in the beauty of your new home. The air was fresh and clean, the scent of pine and earth filling your senses. Birds chirped in the distance, and the gentle rustle of leaves created a soothing background melody.
"Do you like it, pet?" she asked, her voice soft as she came to stand beside you. Her eyes were their familiar green, filled with a mix of determination and tenderness.
You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "It's perfect, my Goddess. Thank you."
She placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Good. We'll be safe here. No one will find us." Her tone was resolute, a promise of protection.
Over the next few days, you settled into your new routine. The cottage was cozy, with a stone fireplace, wooden beams, and large windows that let in plenty of natural light. The Scarlet Witch had even created a small garden outside, filled with vibrant flowers and herbs.
Every morning, you woke up to the sound of birdsong and the warmth of the sun streaming through the windows. You spent your days learning more about your magic, under the watchful eye of your Goddess. She was a strict but patient teacher, guiding you through each spell with care. Your nights were filled with quiet moments by the fire, cuddled up with her as she read or simply held you close.
One evening, as you sat by the fire, you looked up at her, a question forming in your mind. "Scarlet, why did you choose this place?"
She glanced at you, a small smile playing on her lips. "Because it's far away from everything and everyone. It's peaceful. And it's a place where we can be ourselves, without any interruptions."
You nodded, understanding the deeper meaning behind her words. This place was more than just a home; it was a refuge, a place where you could both heal and grow together. As you leaned against her, feeling the steady beat of her heart, you knew that no matter where you were, as long as you were with her, you were home.
You hadn't seen Mommy in weeks while your Goddess had taken back over. Though your Goddess had become softer since the kiss, Mommy's absence was deeply felt. The contrast between them was stark; for two beings sharing a body, they couldn't be more different.
Your Goddess still held an air of authority, a presence that demanded respect and obedience. She was strict, yet not as harsh as before. She had rules and expectations, and while she allowed for moments of tenderness, there was always a reminder of her dominance. You were still her pet, a role you embraced with devotion and reverence.
But Mommy—Mommy was warmth and comfort, a sanctuary of unconditional love. With her, you felt like you could let your guard down completely. Her touch was gentle, her words soothing. She was nurturing, always ready to hold you close and whisper sweet reassurances. In her presence, you were more than just a pet; you were her cherished baby.
The days felt longer without her. You followed your Goddess's commands, practiced your magic, and did everything to please her, but the longing for Mommy's tender affection was always there. You missed the way she would stroke your hair, the softness in her voice, and the safe, warm embrace that made you feel like the most important person in the world.
One evening, after a particularly grueling session of magic training, you found yourself sitting on the floor by the fireplace, staring into the flickering flames. The cottage was quiet, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves outside. Your Goddess was at her desk, reading an ancient tome, her expression focused and intense.
You dared to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "Goddess, may I ask a question?"
She glanced up, her eyes meeting yours. "What is it, pet?"
You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Will... will Mommy come back soon?"
For a moment, there was silence. Then, to your surprise, the intensity in her eyes softened. She closed the tome and stood, walking over to you. Kneeling down, she lifted your chin, her gaze penetrating yet kind.
"She misses you too, you know," she said softly. "But there are things I must take care of. Responsibilities and tasks that require my attention."
You nodded, understanding yet still yearning. "I miss her," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.
She brushed a tear from your cheek with a gentle touch. "I know, pet. I promise she will return. And when she does, she will hold you and love you as much as she always has."
You leaned into her touch, feeling a flicker of hope. "Thank you, Goddess."
She smiled, a rare and beautiful sight. "Now, come. Let's get you to bed. You need your rest."
As she led you to your makeshift bed by her feet, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of anticipation. The promise of Mommy's return filled your heart with a renewed sense of hope and comfort, knowing that soon, you would be wrapped in her loving embrace once more.
=============
You sat by the fireplace with Nugget, using him as a makeshift pillow while the fire kept you warm. Your Goddess was on the couch, reading over a book. The soft crackling of the fire and the rhythmic turning of pages were soothing, and you closed your eyes, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.
What felt like only a moment later, you were gently awoken by the familiar sensation of her magic lifting you up. You opened your eyes to find yourself being placed onto her lap. Your once harsh Goddess had softened ever since you had kissed her. The change was palpable; her touch was tender, and her eyes, though still powerful, held a warmth that made your heart flutter. The two of you were settling into each other, finding a new rhythm that blended the lines of pet and cherished companion.
"Hi baby, did you miss Mommy?" she whispered in your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine. A smile broke across your face, and a giggle bubbled up from within you, unable to be contained.
"Yes, Mommy," you replied, snuggling closer to her. The soft fabric of her sweater felt comforting against your skin, and her arms around you made you feel safe and loved. "I missed you so much."
Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back, soothing and affectionate. "I missed you too, sweet girl," she murmured. "Every moment we spend together is precious to me."
You looked up at her, your eyes meeting hers. "You make me so happy, Mommy."
Her smile widened, and she kissed the top of your head. "And you make me happy too, little one. So very happy."
The fire crackled beside you, casting a warm glow over the room. Outside, the sounds of the forest provided a serene backdrop to this intimate moment. You felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you, knowing that you were right where you belonged.
"Mommy," you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"Yes, baby?" she responded, her voice soft and reassuring.
"I love you."
Her arms tightened around you, and she kissed your forehead. "I love you too, my sweet girl. More than you can ever know."
===========
Six months had passed, and life had taken on a new, comforting rhythm. You now had a room of your own, a small shed outback that Wanda had transformed into a cozy art studio. It was a place of solace, a haven where you could lose yourself in the colors and strokes of your brushes. The shed was filled with canvases, some finished, others still in progress, and the smell of oil and acrylic paints lingered in the air.
Wanda had given you this space, recognizing your need for a personal sanctuary. You had always loved painting, creating beautiful landscapes and scenes that seemed to flow effortlessly from your mind onto the canvas. What started as a hobby had become something more profound. Wanda often referred to your paintings as prophetic, noting how events depicted in your artwork would later unfold in reality. It was as if you were capturing glimpses of the future without even realizing it.
Today, you were working on a new piece, a serene forest scene bathed in the golden light of dawn. The trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a vibrant mix of greens and yellows, while a gentle stream wound its way through the underbrush. You lost yourself in the details, the brush moving with a life of its own.
As you painted, you thought about the changes that had come into your life. The once strict and imposing presence of your Goddess had softened considerably. Wanda and the Scarlet Witch had found a balance, coexisting in a way that allowed both to express their unique forms of love and care for you. You still followed the rules, still respected the boundaries set by your Goddess, but there was a tenderness now that hadn't existed before.
The door to your studio creaked open, and you turned to see Wanda standing there, a soft smile on her lips. She looked at the painting, her eyes filled with admiration and a hint of curiosity.
"Another masterpiece, I see," she said, stepping inside. "It's beautiful."
"Thank you, Mommy," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at her praise. "I love how this one is turning out."
Wanda moved closer, her eyes scanning the canvas. "It's peaceful. I hope it stays that way."
You nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind her words. Many of your paintings had foreseen conflicts and challenges, but this one felt different. It was calm, serene—a welcome change.
"I wanted to create something peaceful," you said softly. "Something that reminds us of the beauty in the world."
Wanda placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "You've done more than that, sweetheart. You've given us hope."
You looked up at her, seeing the genuine affection in her eyes. "I just paint what I see."
"And what you see is a gift," she replied, her voice tender. "Never forget that."
You turned back to the painting, adding a few final touches to the sunlight filtering through the trees. Wanda stayed by your side, watching in silence. The bond between you had grown stronger, and you felt more at peace than you had in a long time.
As the day turned to evening, you and Wanda walked back to the cottage together, the warmth of her presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. Life with your Goddess and Mommy was a delicate balance, but it was one filled with love, understanding, and a shared sense of purpose.
Inside the cottage, the fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the room. You settled by Wanda's feet, leaning into her as she stroked your hair, the familiar feeling of safety and belonging washing over you. No matter what the future held, you knew you would face it together, drawing strength from the love that bound you all.
348 notes · View notes
queenofallimagines · 6 months
Note
hi there!! may i ask some obey me hcs where mc is a professional volleyball player (like of they would watch her tems matchs, how they cheer and things like that) and has a personality like oikawa when she's not playing, but turn into a queen of the court (like kageyama 🕺) when playing? tysm!
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A/n: I’m literally so mad I didn’t see this b4 bc I’m watching the haikyuu movie sobbing over karasuno VS nekoma😫 but absolutely! Also I noticed how this got more nsfw closer to the end😭 couldn’t help it😔
Lucifer:
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- impressed
- He did think you had a nice body when he first saw you
- But then he hears your trying out for the RAD volleyball team?
- Poor human can’t stand on the same court against literal demons??
- Is what he thought
- He sees Beel ecstatic about your first game and he’s hyping you up sm
- Lucifer goes bc if you get heir he will step in to defend you
- Yk when hinata does his thing and the whole stadiums jaws drop?
- That’s WHAT HAPPENED HERE
- He sees you effortlessly setting to your teammates like you rly are running this show
- Made you captain at tryouts bc hell yeah!!
- They call you the demon Ruler of the court fr
- Imagine being so cocky and prideful and then getting home and being like all chill and regular chaotic
- He thinks your cheating real BAD
- He can’t play but he’s like nah okay against me you can use no spells
- Asmo is making cute merch to wear to your games
- Levi has already watched all your tapes form the human world he’s a expert and he’s never seen a volleyball before
- When you wipe the floor w him he’s like okay,,, maybe you are just that good
- That speed and serve is something dangerous
- When you get his pact he’s at EVERY game
- The way he can feel the pride running through you when you play, and the smirk on your face sends a chill up your spine when you look down on the other team
- He can and will have his hands all over you after a game
- Sorry like he’s euphoric the whole time it’s like edging almost
- Can’t deny how you look in your tight uniform is very appealing too
- Asmo too he can feel the lust for you in the room and he’s LOVING IT
- Brags whew he he gets the chance
Mammon:
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- yeah he’s placing bets
- He comes to see you at practice because he skipped class and he knows if he shows up at home without you he’s in trouble
- So he does to idle around
- Jaw literally drops when he sees you obliterate the other side of the court
- Feels greed burning in him and can’t tell if it’s him or you
- The drive to win radiating off of you in waves
- It’s overwhelming
- “When we’re us g’unna tell me you can do THAT?!”
- “You never asked.”
- Lucifer feels a chill when mammon asks you if he can place bets on you winning
- Shows up to every game
- WILL oversee merch sales
- Has a jersey of yours he wears to sleep
- Runs the Stan page w asmo
- Will make sure your gear is in tip-top shape
- Brings you snacks before and after practice
- You think it’s all financially motivated and like 70% is but he’s like so happy and proud of you
- Right w Beel cheering the loudest at your games
- Nobody can even say anything bad bc he will argue them DOWN
- Buys all your jerseys and then saves all the tickets to your games
- Will show up w flowers
- Also sneaks from class to your practices bc he is a SUCKER for that volleyball shorts and knee pad combo
- Watches your games on replay
- Seems like the type to jack off to your games too
- Biggest hype man and will give you a ‘reward’ if you play extra hard during a game
Levi:
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- he likes sports anime
- And probably will compete in a swimming event at some school festival bc duh
- But he hears Beel and mammon gushing over you play sports and is like okay well my Henry is so talented but whatever
- Almost died when you come home all sweaty and tired from practice like oop
- Suddenly binge watching every volleyball anime there IS
- Might as well be your coach
- Applies to be manager but like he’s one of the seven lord of hell lmao who’s gunna tell Levi no??
- Yall are kiyoko and Tanaka
- Very cute
- Also wearing merch w asmo they made
- Gets patches of your number to put on his everyday jacket
- Also wears your jersey to sleep
- ALSO ALSO a sucker for them volleyball fits
- Makes sure you’re always hydrated and the gym is the perfect temperature to play games in
- Guilty pleasure is that he really likes seeing you sweaty and panting
- Way how’s your games the way oikawa watches other teams to see how they play
- Actually good at making strategies and figuring out the letters in other teams
- Wants you to teach him to play
- Not bc he wants too but bc you’ll have to help adjust his posture and he can see you spike a lot
- Gets a thrill off of feeling the small bit of envy you feel when you see another good team or they manage to score on you
- Mayyyyyy encourage a little more envy bc you spike the ball even harder and you glare even more
- Yknow he has a thing for you to be mean
- So he’s like biting his lips hearing you trash talk the other team
- Also like mammon where he will have recordings of your games to jack off too
- “You pathetic worm know your place”
- He’s never moaned louder
Satan:
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- reads books on Volleyball
- Likes to be wellread and can impress you with terms
- Hears Beel be excited and sneaks off to see you practice
- Slides in slick compliments
- He’s cheeky to a fault
- “I have to ask, do you like volleyball for the adrenaline or is it for the cute outfit?”
- Tease him because he’s not even good at hiding that he’s looking
- “I don’t know. So you like coming to my games to watch me win or stare at my ass?”
- The cat was too stunned to speak
- Chose to come to your games because he was at home alone while everyone else was at your game
- And he was doing some ‘Self Care’
- And he got this lighting bolt of please up his spine
- Needless to say he made quite of a mess
- Hears everyone hyping you up when they come back
- “Remind me to never make ya mad okay MC?”
- “I would!~ the way they were glaring after they slammed the ball down made my heart flutter.”
- Had to go see what the fuss was for himself
- The grunts and yells are really making him hot under the collar
- Used your game tickets as bookmarks
- It makes him smile
- He’s such a tween girl in love he’ll like decorate them in his spare time like maybe press flowers and glue them on encasing it all in resin
- Heart eyes
- Giggles at your trash talk
- Loves seeing you fr have beef w people
- Setters for some reason always have beef during a game idk WHAT IT IS but like they all was glaring daggers
- He’s deeply interested in the setter beef
- “So what’s the story with you and that other setter👀 I could feel a little tension in the air.”
- My hc is that his pact mark is always on your dominant fist
- Bc like yknow punching
- So he feels the sting of your hand when you hit the ball and he rly likes it
- Will offer to massage you after a game when you’re all tired
- An excuse to get nasty and he will spank you w the same hand
- Sigh he can’t help himself unfortunately
Asmo:
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- Oh he’s hype
- He’s not one for playing sports
- Buuuuut he does like the appeal of the slutty outfits and seeing people be all aggressive and sweaty
- So when he hears Beel mention you’re tying out for the team he’s immediately intrigued
- He’s probably an honesty cheerleader
- So he’s going to be there dressed to the 9 in YOUR colors every game
- Like not the school colors he’s dripped out in your signature color schemes
- Even somehow gets ahold of an old jersey from the human world and rules it in many outfits
- Brags to people that he has one and it’s signed(pls sign it for him)
- Wears earrings w your number and name on it
- That trope where the head cheerleader kisses the star player bc they’re dating after the game is very him
- Puts in his cutest lipgloss and kisses your cheek
- “Well if it’s you I don’t mind getting all sweaty and out of breath with you~”
- Like I said before he’s feeling off the lust for you in the air
- The lust his brothers feel, the audience, your lust for winning
- He’s intoxicated by it
- He feels his pact mark pulsing and it makes him giggle
- You’d think he’s tickled pink
- But he’s laughing bc he’s about to go crazy after this mf game
- Is hyper focus on how your outfit stretches over you when you move
- Watches you work out
- Bc like let’s be real he’s down to mess round in the gym showers
- Another one to give you a nice ‘Reward’ for playing so well
- Has all these suspiciously seductive pictures of you playing like when did he even take this picture of you bending over??
- Can’t help but to let his hands wander
- Instead of having a jersey to sleep in he will sleep in your whole uniform
- Like you’re looking for it in the morning to go to practice and he’s sleeping in it
- “Well not it smells like me!”
- Sigh
- Well want to get nasty in it but he’s torn between you in it or him in it
- Hardest decision in your life
- Asmo and Levi decked out in your merch and Levi stalks the Stan pages for the best pictures and asmo runs like 3 of em
Beel:
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- my beautiful beloved!
- You come meet him at fangol practice and ask him if they have any other sports
- He mentions offhandedly that the volleyball team is doing tryouts for the new season and you’re like 👀 bet let’s see how yall play
- Comes with you to make sure you don’t get like picked on or anything
- Amazed by seeing what you can do and how confident you get
- Went from like shy brand new human to being the demon ruler of the court he’s so hyped
- “MC where did you learn to do that??”
- “Hard work and a lot of spite✨”
- If anyone got something to say no tf they don’t bc he’s your bodyguard
- Makes sure your games aren’t scheduled at the same time bc he’s not missing your games
- Enjoying your games when he feels a familiar feeling of hunger
- He heard all the other brothers talking about their pact marks feeling funny but he’s like meh
- Starts thinking that maybe you didn’t eat enough before the game
- But when he sees you smiling as your team wins he understands
- That gluttony you feel isn’t towards food but volleyball
- Huh. Interesting
- Not one to immediately get nasty after a game he will want to treat you to snacks first but he mayyyy want to help you get charged after practice
- I mean like you’re exhausted and your muscles are all sore like it’s totally innocent!!
- Wears your jersey number as a patch on his jacket
- But also would have a cute necklace w the number on it like right along w his gold chain
- Whew
- Dangles over your face when he fucks you
- He’s glad you both can workout together 🥰
Belphegor:
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- sleepy
- Not really interested in sports
- But he goes to heels games to cheer him on
- Beel drags him to a game of yours
- Likes how hot you look playing
- Like Satan will make comments about the outfit
- “Are you sure the shorts are supposed to be that short?”
- “They don’t restrict my movement”
- “Hm…. Good to know.”
- Another who steals your jersey and sleeps in it
- Might put it over a pillow to sleep on
- Lazily wants to hold you after a game night
- “Mmmm just rest, you’ve done so much moving around relax with me.”
- Sweeps you into sweet dreams whether you want to sleep or not
- Will have his own wet dreams about you in your outfit
- Will go to the game and cheer with asmo to hype you up
- Likes seeing you set the ball to your teammates and how you can read their minds and direct the game
241 notes · View notes
bloodreinasbathwater · 4 months
Text
On Thin Ice
Jack Hughes X Reader
best friends brother au!
a;n I haven't touched this fic in so long because I thought u guys didn't like it, but when I checked the notes, it actually did pretty good. I have so much work to put out that I'm excited for you guys to read. This chapter is pretty short btw. Happy reading.
warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, forced proximity
masterlist link
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previous chapter here :)
word count - 3295
...
The apartment was enveloped in an eerie calm as y/n trotted through the hallways, her footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor. She had been staying in Luke's apartment for the past two days, the slow, eventful weekend rolling by, and it was now Sunday.
As she made her way through the living room, she huffed in annoyance, kicking away a stray pair of socks left carelessly on the floor. "fuckin Luke," she grumbled, making a mental note to throw the socks in the laundry bin on her way back to the guest room.
Y/n rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, the sound of a movie playing on the TV catching her attention. She glanced over at the couch, where Jack sat with his arms relaxed on the top of the pillows, his neck craned to watch her, a contemplative look on his face.
"Hi, stranger," Jack called out, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Hi, Jackie," y/n replied, returning his smile with a small one of her own. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing home, Luke hadn't mentioned anything about Jack skipping practice earlier.
As if reading her thoughts, Jack patted the seat next to him, his eyes glinting with an unspoken invitation. "Come sit with me?" he asked, his voice warm and inviting, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, her heart skipping a beat at the prospect of being alone with Jack. She couldn't deny the attraction that had been growing between them, the subtle flirtations and lingering glances that had become more frequent over the past few days.
She glanced around the room, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, her fingers fidgeting slightly as she made her decision.
Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Y/n made her way over to the couch, her steps slow and deliberate. She could feel Jack's gaze following her every movement, adding to the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
As she sank into the plush cushions beside him, the warmth radiating from his body enveloped her, and the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne filled her senses, making her head swim slightly.
"What are you watching?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she gestured towards the TV. Her heart raced, and she hoped he couldn't hear it pounding in her chest.
Jack shrugged, his gaze never leaving her face. "Some old movie my mom used to watch. I wasn't really paying attention," he replied, a playful glint in his eyes.
Y/n nodded, suddenly hyperaware of how close they were sitting, their thighs nearly touching. The proximity made her skin tingle, and she felt a blush creeping up her neck. As if sensing her nerves, Jack draped his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers gently brushing against her shoulder. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she instinctively leaned slightly into him, seeking more of his warmth.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, like a velvet promise. "I don't bite... unless you want me to."
Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushing at the implication of his words. She turned to face him, her eyes locking with his, and in that moment, she knew that whatever was happening between them was far from over.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
"Can I ask you something?"
Y/n nodded, a bit taken aback by his demeanor. "Sure, what's up?" she replied, her voice soft with curiosity.
Jack leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching hers, a mix of earnestness and hesitance in his gaze. "Why didn't you want to give me your number that night at the bar, but you became friends with Luke?"
Y/n sighed, feeling a weight settle in her chest. She knew this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. She glanced around Jack's living room, taking in the cozy yet modern décor.
The soft light from a floor lamp cast a warm glow over the room, highlighting the sleek lines of the furniture and the muted colors of the decor. The TV played an old black-and-white movie in the background, its dialogue barely audible over the quiet hum of their conversation.
"Look, Jack," she began, turning back to him, her expression sincere. "I know about your reputation as a hockey player. I didn't want to be just another name on your list." Her eyes flicked to his, gauging his reaction.
Jack was visibly taken aback by her words, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. But a small, rueful smile played on his lips as he nodded, understanding her perspective. "Fair enough," he said, his voice softening. "But you should know, I'm not like that. That's just what the media wants me to be."
Y/n studied him for a moment, her eyes tracing the lines of his face, noticing the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He looked almost boyish, his usual confident demeanor softened by the sincerity in his expression. The flickering light from the movie danced across his features, adding depth to the moment.
Before she could respond, Jack gestured towards the living room, his smile turning playful yet reassuring. "Let’s just watch the movie, yeah? I promise I'll be on my best behavior."
Y/n felt a smile tugging at her lips as she nodded, relaxing a bit. "Alright, Jack. Let's watch the movie." She settled back into the couch, feeling the tension ease from her shoulders.
Jack’s arm remained draped across the back of the couch, his fingers gently brushing her shoulder from time to time, a comforting presence.
They both turned their attention to the screen, where the classic film played out in black and white. The soft murmur of the movie's dialogue blended with the ambient sounds of the living room, creating a peaceful backdrop for the moment they shared.
About thirty minutes into the film, the sound of the apartment door opening caught their attention. The door creaked open, and Luke walked in, juggling several grocery bags.
He paused in the doorway, a wide grin spreading across his face as he noticed Y/n and Jack sitting together on the couch. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Luke teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You two alone together again?"
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, a blush spreading rapidly as she quickly stood up from the couch, her heart racing. "I was just waiting for you to get home… to start cooking dinner," she explained hurriedly, moving over to the table where Luke had set down the groceries. She could feel the heat in her face intensify, aware of how her voice sounded a bit too high-pitched in her effort to sound nonchalant.
Luke chuckled, shaking his head with amusement. "Sure, sure," he said, winking at Y/n. "Looks like you two were getting pretty cozy."
Y/n busied herself with unpacking the groceries, her hands moving swiftly to organize the items. She couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and excitement at being caught alone with Jack once more.
The memory of his closeness, his touch, lingered in her mind, making it hard to concentrate on the task at hand. She could feel the weight of Jack's gaze on her, intense and unyielding, from his spot on the couch.
Jack stretched, his movements casual but his eyes never leaving Y/n. He leaned back, his arm draped over the back of the couch, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. "Don't mind Luke," he called out, his tone light and teasing. "He's just jealous."
Luke laughed as he joined Y/n in the kitchen, helping her unpack the groceries. "Jealous? Of what?" he retorted, glancing between the two of them. "You two are the ones having a movie night without me…Again."
Y/n smiled, shaking her head as she started preparing the ingredients for dinner. The kitchen filled with the sounds of chopping vegetables and the clinking of utensils, a domestic rhythm that contrasted with the earlier tension. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of Jack's eyes on her, watching her every move with a mix of curiosity and admiration.
As she worked, she stole a glance at Jack, who was now fully engrossed in the movie but still wore that small, enigmatic smile. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness of his expression whenever he looked her way.
It made her heart flutter, knowing that despite the interruption, the connection between them was undeniable and growing stronger with each passing moment.
Luke, noticing the subtle exchanges, shook his head with a knowing smile. "Alright, let's get this dinner started. I'm starving," he said, breaking the silence and adding a bit of normalcy to the evening. "And maybe after, you two can tell me all about this movie you were definitely watching."
Y/n laughed, the sound light and genuine, as she continued preparing dinner, feeling a sense of anticipation for what the rest of the evening might bring.
After dinner, the conversation shifted as Luke brought up his recent date. "So, Y/n, what do you think about me going on that second date with Sophie?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head, a satisfied groan escaping his lips. The remnants of a hearty meal lay scattered across the table, a testament to Y/n's culinary skills.
Y/n shook her head, a playful yet concerned look on her face. "Honestly, Luke, I don't think it's a good idea," she said, beginning to gather the empty plates. "She seems nice, but I have a feeling she's not really your type."
Luke raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really? And why's that?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice.
"Well, for starters," Y/n began, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she explained, "she barely laughed at your jokes, and we all know that's a red flag. Plus, she kept checking her phone during dinner, she said she didn’t want anything serious with you, the list could go on."
As Y/n spoke, Jack found himself unable to look away. Her animated gestures, the way her eyes lit up when she was passionate about something, the subtle smile playing on her lips—it all captivated him. He didn't realize he was staring until Luke's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Hey, earth to Jack," Luke called out, smirking. "You good, man? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Y/n glanced over, catching Jack's gaze and laughing. "Yeah, Jack, you okay over there?" she teased, her foot reaching out under the table to gently caress his leg in a playful manner.
Jack's cheeks turned a shade of red that matched the intensity of his smile. He stammered slightly, "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost in thought."
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "Okay, now that we've thoroughly embarrassed Jack, let's go play a game," he said, pushing himself up from the chair and patting Jack on the shoulder.
Jack, still flustered but smiling, nodded. "You're on, little brother," he replied, his competitive nature instantly piqued.
The two men made their way to the living room, their banter filling the air as they set up the Xbox. Y/n could hear the familiar sounds of the NHL game starting up, the commentators' voices blaring through the speakers. She lingered for a moment, watching them, a smile playing on her lips.
Y/n found herself alone in the kitchen, elbow-deep in soapy water as she tackled the dishes. The sound of the boys' laughter and the clashing of virtual hockey sticks drifted in from the living room, but she paid them no mind, focusing instead on the plates and glasses before her.
she stood at the sink, humming a gentle melody to herself. The warm water and suds caressed her hands, and she found a certain peace in the mundane task.
So engrossed was she in her task that she failed to notice the quiet footsteps approaching from behind. It wasn't until a solid form brushed against her back that she realized she was no longer alone.
Before she could react, a pair of strong arms reached around her, grabbing a clean dish towel from the counter. Startled, y/n gasped, spinning around to find herself face to face with Jack.
"Jack!" she exclaimed, her heart racing from the unexpected contact. "You scared me."
A smirk played on Jack's lips as he closed the distance between them, his body mere inches from hers. "Need some help?” he murmured, his voice low and sultry.
Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat as Jack reached out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, trailing along her jawline before cupping her cheek. The roughness of his palm contrasted with the softness of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine.
"I... I've got it, thanks," she managed to say, her voice slightly shaky.
"I couldn't help but notice," he whispered, his thumb gently caressing her skin, "how beautiful you look when you're concentrating like that."
Y/n's heart hammered in her chest, her words caught in her throat. "I... I was just... doing the dishes," she managed to stammer, her cheeks flushing under his intense gaze.
Jack's smile widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "And you do it so well," he teased, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her body.
He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just a breath away from hers. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, the faint scent of his cologne filling her senses. Her mind raced, wondering if he would close the distance, if he would finally kiss her like she had imagined countless times before.
But just as she thought she couldn't take the tension any longer, Jack pulled away, a playful smirk on his face. He reached past her, grabbing a clean glass from the rack, and filled it with water from the tap. "I should probably get back to the game," he whispered, his voice low and teasing. "Luke's waiting for me to beat him again."
"Thanks for taking care of the dishes," he said, his tone light and teasing. "You're a real lifesaver."
With a wink, he sauntered back into the living room, leaving y/n breathless and flustered. She braced herself against the counter, her knees weak and her heart pounding. She couldn't help but wonder if Jack knew the effect he had on her, if he reveled in the power he held over her emotions.
Taking a deep breath, y/n tried to compose herself, but the memory of Jack's touch, his closeness, and the unspoken desire between them lingered, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
The apartment was shrouded in a quiet calm, the only sounds being the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of settling wood. Y/n had just finished washing up and was stepping out of the guest room, feeling the need for a late-night snack.
She padded softly down the hallway, her footsteps almost silent against the cool wooden floor. The smooth surface beneath her feet sent a gentle chill through her body, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.
As she neared the kitchen, she noticed a shadow moving in the dim light. She paused, heart quickening, and realized it was Jack, standing in the hallway with his phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, a hushed whisper, as if he didn't want to be overheard.
Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched him, his silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of his phone screen. She couldn't help but admire the way his broad shoulders filled out his t-shirt, the fabric stretching taut across his muscular back.
"No, I told you, it's not like that," Jack murmured into the phone, his tone serious yet soft. "I just need some time to figure things out."
Y/n felt a pang of curiosity but decided against eavesdropping. She quietly slipped into the kitchen, the cool air from the fridge hitting her as she opened the door and began rummaging through the contents. The chill sent a shiver down her spine, and she rubbed her arms to ward off the goosebumps.
As she searched for something to satisfy her late-night cravings, her mind drifted back to the earlier teasing moments with Jack and Luke. A small smile played on her lips as she remembered the playful banter and the way Jack's eyes had lingered on her just a little too long.
Suddenly, the kitchen lights flickered on, and a presence loomed behind her. Startled, she screeched, clutching her chest as she whirled around to see Jack standing there, a mischievous grin on his face.
Her heart raced, pounding against her ribcage as she tried to catch her breath. She couldn't help but notice how close he was, the heat from his body radiating towards her in the small space of the kitchen.
"Damn it, Jack," she gasped, swatting at his chest playfully. "You scared me again today!" Her fingertips brushed against the firm muscles of his chest, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her skin tingled at his touch.
Jack chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sorry, Y/n. Couldn't resist," he said, his voice a low, comforting rumble. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping her. "What are you doing up so late?"
"Just needed a snack," she replied, trying to steady her breathing. "Couldn't sleep."
Jack leaned against the counter, his gaze never leaving her face. "Me neither. Want some company?"
Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile. "Sure, why not," she said, pulling out some leftovers and setting them on the counter. She grabbed a couple of plates and handed one to Jack.
They stood there in comfortable silence, the only sound being the clinking of cutlery as they ate. Jack's eyes kept drifting to Y/n, admiring the way the soft kitchen light played on her features. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, the air charged with a flirty tension.
After a few moments, Y/n sighed, breaking the silence. "Jack, can I ask you something now?" she began, her tone more serious now.
"Of course," Jack replied, setting his plate down and giving her his full attention.
"Why do you keep playing these games with me?" she asked, her eyes searching his. "One minute you're all flirty and sweet, and the next you're distant. If you keep joking around like this, you're gonna be on some thin ice."
Jack's expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, their bodies nearly touching. "I'll take that as a challenge," he said, his voice a low whisper, his breath warm against her skin. "I'm not playing games, Y/n. I just... I like being around you. Maybe I don't always know the right way to show it."
Y/n studied his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. But the tension between them was palpable, a mix of frustration and undeniable attraction. "Well, if you're serious, then show me. Because I won't put up with any more nonsense."
Jack's smile widened, and he nodded. "Challenge accepted," he murmured, his eyes lingering on her lips for a moment before he took a step back. "Goodnight, Y/n."
As he walked away, Y/n felt a mix of emotions—excitement, confusion, and a touch of annoyance. Jack had a way of getting under her skin, but she couldn't deny the spark between them. She watched him disappear down the hallway, her heart racing, and wondered what tomorrow would bring.
...
Tag list <3
@rebelatbay @bunbunbl0gs, @ru-kru
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z3rinn · 4 months
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# #. KINGDOM CALLING !!
Being a Keyblade Wielder you thought you'd have seen everything by now. But you never expected to end up in a world where the villains you defeated were worshipped.
more twst x kh content because i’ve been hyper fixated on it for the past few months T_T speaking of, the reason I've been gone for so long is because I’ve now got a fic in the makings- using this exact concept! it’s posted on my wattpad and quotev, but I’m also debating if I should put it on this site… it’s quite long though! lmk if you guys think I should :]
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Twisted Wonderland was weird.
You thought you’d have seen everything by now. Being a Keyblade Wielder, your job was to travel across worlds, defeating the darkness and hate spread by those willing to conquer.
You’d experienced stories and magic you could barely comprehend, standing on the sidelines as you watched fairytales play right before your eyes.
Creatures and supernaturals were considered friends, being far different from the monsters you imagined them to be. Even talking animals were a common thing now, having traveled with Donald Duck and Goofy for a better part of three years now.
You never thought you'd miss them.
Your life back on Destiny Islands was simple. Back there, you had a home; with small rowing boats and hammocks on the tiny island a quick swim away. You had proper food, with star shaped fruits said to bind your soul with your loved ones. Most importantly- you had your best friends; Sora, Riku, and Kairi— all eccentric yet lovable characters that held your heart. You would do anything for them.
The island was a sanctuary, a place for comfort and familiarity. If you had known what you did now, you would've trapped yourself there, basking in the warm sand and cool water brushing across your body. But then, being young and immature, you just wanted to leave.
Three years have passed since then. Years full of mystery and surprise.
You had undergone many things on your journey; battling against Heartless and monsters. Falling down rabbit holes and encountering princesses every which way you turned. Meeting leaders of all kinds of worlds, binding your hearts to create everlasting friendships. You had even sided with villians, willing to set aside your differences to accomplish your goals.
It was odd… working with Maleficent.
At one point you even had your heart stolen. Ripped away from you to create a husk. And that was just the surface.
You thought you had seen everything by now....
But Twisted Wonderland was weird.
Everything happened so suddenly; kicking open an overly fancy coffin ( far different from the ones Jack Skellington used ) only to be met by a creature that looked oddly like Stitch. But before you could ask anything, he gave chase, demanding you give him your robes— how did you even get these on?
Panic stricken, you ran. Running across classrooms, hallways, and courtyards- all while trying to get away from the cat.
Questions and concerns began to gush through your mind. How could you have gotten here? Where was everyone?
And where were you?
The next thing you knew, you were in a regal library, cornered by the monster. Floating books and dancing lanterns surrounded you, all approaching with intrigue. They all seemed to be observing you, like they were anticiping something.
Blue fire brushed across your skin, the flames flickering against your robes. You realized they were waiting for a spell, like they knew you would cast it before the thought could even pop into your mind.
Just as you raised your hand, getting ready to summon your Keyblade, a whip wrapped around the cat.
Both of you jumped, eyes darting to the double doors, finding a crow-looking man standing there. He looked oddly disappointed. Your eyes immediately narrowed, hands tensing.
Just looking at him made you feel on edge.
He was radiating darkness.
His golden eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, gazing deep and pulling you apart from the seams. They pierced through your own. Entrancing. Like they were studying and discerning your moves. You didn't like them.
They looked like a villians.
You were wary of the man, raising a brow when he introduced himself. Crowley was his name; Descendant of a Hero. An odd name for someone whose heart seemed so full of darkness. He led you to a chamber room, surrounded by floating coffins and magic. Dark energy overfilled the room, whispers and cackles echoing from robed figures as they eyed your form.
You thought back to Organization XIII.
You didn't like robes all that much anymore.
They were traumatizing.
Crowley huffed, pushing you in front of— the magic mirror? Was that the one The Evil Queen used?
The mask in the mirror spoke, blank eyes narrowing at you as if you'd attack it at any second. Of course, it had every right to be afraid. Your friend literally threw a giant key at it once. Hopefully it could get passed that though, and you could ask it how you got here?
It bullshitted something about you not having a soul, ( you had a strange inkling it was being petty but whatever ) but before it could finish, the cat broke free.
He yelled, claiming he was strong enough to be at this school, and that he deserved your spot. You tilted your head at his outburst. Was that all he wanted? You gladly would've given your spot to him. You weren’t meant to be in this world in the first place. Hopefully you’d be out of here soon.
You had Heartless to go fight.
You had to go find Sora.
A quick mishap occurred, with Grim ( you remembered his name ) setting the room on fire. Apparently he was trying to show off his magic; an odd way to do so but you digress. A red haired boy chased after him, along with a boy with glasses.
Their magic was strange, coming out of a jeweled pen of all things.
Wind magic was casted, similar to your own Aero spells. Water attacks were aimed at it, easily dousing the blue flames. It was honestly amazing, watching so much magic come out of a tiny pen.
The redhead stopped in front of the cat, pointing his pen at him with narrowed eyes. Your own widened as he shouted a curse.
Off with your head.
That sounded awfully familiar.
Crowley was going to kick you out.
The magic mirror- or rather the dark mirror- explained that you didn't have a home to go to. You guessed it was because Destiny Islands was a whole other world, and simple mirror travel wouldn't be able to reach that far.
No matter, you could simply contact Donald or Riku on your Gummi phone and go home.
But of course, the first time a phone specifically made to communicate between worlds doesn't work is when you need it most.
So you did the only thing you could.
And showed him your Keyblade.
He muttered something to himself, widened eyes never leaving the blade in your hand. His feathers ruffled in surprise and intrigue, the slight curl of them being… strange. 
It was as if they were smiling.
Your eyes flickered to his own- noticing his scary… intense gaze.
You didn’t dare break contact, being far too focused on those piercings eyes. 
Those haunting, golden eyes. 
Eyes that looked just like Xehanorts.
The Headmage led you to a rundown cabin, home to a variety of ghosts and cobwebs. The building reminded you of the ones in Halloween Town; rundown with mischievous creatures inhabiting the spaces. These ghosts just looked like marshmallows.
You let out a low sigh, allowing yourself to fall on the dusted couch in the lounge. Debris flew up under your weight, flying into the air before dissapting. Your gaze was focused on the ceiling above, dazed as rain droplets fell to your cheeks and the wooden floors below.
The building was silent, aside from the rain. Wind blew against cobwebs, flying past your face and sticking to the rotting wood. Splinters and jagged pieces spiked up, parts of the walls ripped apart from age and student endeavors.
It was lonely here.
You didn't have anyone in this world.
Not even Jiminy fucking Cricket.
You hadn’t been alone in a long time.
The door creaked open, "Myah- it's really pouring out there!"
...
Twisted Wonderland.
That's what this place was called.
A world very befitting for its name.
Everything about this world was off— or at least— Night Raven College was.
Students seemed to love and adore the beings you had tried so desperately to keep away. They had dorms dedicated to them, embracing their darkness and allowing themselves to fall under its curse. Darkness that you had to get rid of.
Of course, they didn't actually know about the dangers you faced, finding these villians to be great and kind. They didn't know of the death and tragedy caused- the mistakes you had to fix.
It was strange though. Worlds weren't supposed to know of one another, otherwise chaos could ensue.
So why was Twisted Wonderland a combination of them all?
You suppose that's how this place got its name.
Everything in this world was twisted. Villians were considered heroic; great and all mighty beings that you and Sora definitely didn't beat.
While in the botanical gardens you sometimes laugh, imagining Leona's face if you told him you helped kill Scar. He gives you weird looks, telling you to shut up and go back to sleep. You try. It doesn’t work.
It wasn't until the Riddle incident did you realize why you were sent to this world. Darkness and hatred had been accumulating in the corners of this realm, seeping into the depths of people's hearts.
It was at times like this that made you miss Sora.
You turned over on your bed, eyes focused on the ceiling above. Moonlight seeped in through the wooden cracks, bits of the glowing celestial body peeking in. It was almost speaking to you, luring you towards it with the promise of comfort.
Kingdom Hearts.
Your eyes shut, turning away from the beckoning moon.
Well whatever. You had another long day ahead of you.
Thoughts? This was just a quick wip that I made in like an hour lolll. I’m thinking of doing another part tho, where we dive into character interactions and such. Rlly wanna write for Silver and a KH! MC!
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moamidzyism · 7 months
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tipsy (c.yj)
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☆。.:*·゚wc 829 fluff + suggestive ౨ৎ // repost ୨୧ bf!yeonjun x fem!reader, established relationship, drunken making out, public display of affection, mention of alcohol [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]
event masterlist
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going out with you was always interesting for yeonjun, it didn’t happen often, but when it did, he was always astounded by how you so effortlessly transformed into the life of the party when you were with your friends.
positioned in his section of the club, he watched as your best friend beelined her way to you with another two shots in her hand. you took the one from her, downing it with ease, seemingly unaffected by its potency. casting the plastic shot glass aside, you continued to sway your hips carelessly to the rhythm of the song that was currently playing, an alluring grace radiating in the way you moved.
yeonjun, nursing his second drink of the night, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of possessiveness as he eyed the other men attempting to get close to you on the dance floor, trying to grind up against you. however, he knew you well enough to understand that you were always firm in turning down their advances, gracefully slipping away from their unwelcome grips on your waist, giggling with your friends.
if it was any other person, they might feel jealous in situations like these, but yeonjun found comfort in the knowledge that you were his, and that made all the difference.
and that fact was reconfirmed for him when he catches your eye. you wave at him from the middle of the dance floor, having just distanced yourself from another persistent and incredibly desperate guy. he returns your gesture with a subtle smile, and in response, you whisper something into your friend’s ear. your friend grins mischievously and nudges you in your boyfriend’s direction.
with a slight blush on your cheeks, you navigate the dance floor until you reach yeonjun’s section. taking refuge on his lap, your arms wrap around his neck for support. the faint scent of your perfume intoxicates him further as he tightens his embrace, providing you with extra support.
“hi,”
“hello to you too,” your boyfriend replies, leaning closer to you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your exposed skin.
“i see you’ve been keeping an eye on me.” you tease.
“couldn’t help it.” he confesses with a soft chuckle. “have you seen yourself? you’re too beautiful.” he kisses you softly. “literally every guy in this club wants you.”
“don’t want you to be mad, junie.” you say against his lips.
he pulls away from you, a confused expression plastered on his face. “why would i be mad at you?”
“because those guys wanted to dance with me.” you shyly respond.
“but look where you are now?” his lips trail along your jawline. “why would i be mad at you?”
“just making sure.” you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, relishing the sensation of being close to him.
“did you want to leave?” you ask after a while.
“do you want to leave?” he counters, he fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“no, but you look bored.” you admit, a hint of concern in your voice.
“but you’re having so much fun with your friends.”
“i think i might have more fun with you at home.”
“hmm?” he hums, a knowing smile spreading across his lips.
“yeah.”
you say goodbye to your friends, who give you encouraging smiles, while yeonjun calls a taxi. you walk outside hand in hand. the cold air sends chills down your spine, but yeonjun quickly pulls you towards him to warm you up. 
once you two are situated in the cab, you can’t keep your hands off him. you’re practically sitting on his lap as you sloppily press open mouthed kisses on his face, letting your tongue explore every inch of his jawline, moving down to his neck.
“baby, behave.” he gasps when he feels you fumbling with the zipper of his pants. he makes eye contact with the older cab driver through the rear view mirror and quickly swats your hands away.
“i want you so bad,” you whine, not caring for the other person in the car with you, who was trying hard to keep his eyes on the road.
“i know, but if you behave when we get home…” his voice trailed off, but you knew what he was implying.
“that’s not fair.” you pouted.
“we’ll be home in no time.” he tried to convince you, and he ended up being right. you leaned against his chest and closed your eyes, and after what felt like five minutes, the car stopped outside your building. you opened your eyes to see yeonjun pulling his wallet out of his pocket to pay the driver.
you exit the car, clinging onto yeonjun’s arm as you follow him up to your apartment. before he could even open the door fully, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. “baby, slow down.” he chuckled.
“you said once we get home.” you mumble between kisses. “we’re home.”
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vixenobrian · 9 months
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Seeing Ghosts
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This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader
---------------------------------------------------
"Bradley honey, I'm home!"
No answer.
I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.
"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.
"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.
"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.
Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.
Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.
I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.
"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.
"Roos, I have a- oh God!"
Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.
I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.
"Roos, honey, what happened?"
"He called me Nick again."
My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.
"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.
"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.
"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."
He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.
"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.
"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"
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