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ashhh-14 · 16 days

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"Why's there only one bed?!"

part 2

Part 1

Featuring - Dan heng, Gepard, Jing yuan & Blade

Info- '......' meaning short timeskip

A/n- yes I'm not dead pfft. The idea was given by @tigerpriestess when i posted the first piece, i started writing this one when i read the suggestion cuz it was intriguing but my writer's block hit like a truck so yeahhh, finally here's the part 2. Happy reading!

Dated : April 15, 2024

It's been a week since Dan Heng's brain was in a frenzy. The night you two shared one bed together, how you held his hand, your soft skin against his cheek, how you kept him company when he was restless. But... Why are you acting like nothing even happened from the very next morning? Was he overthinking everything? Was that night's events a mere act of care and nothing more?

You poured yourself a cup of coffee, sleep evident in your actions since you didn't wake up too long ago. Turning around to head back to your room, you bumped into something firm. You stumbled back a little, only for an arm to wrap around your waist preventing your fall. You looked up, eyes coming in contact with those beautiful orbs you love looking into, "Dan Heng?" You were unable to read his face as your breath hitched at his intense stare, his feet moving forward, backing you up against the counter as you found yourself in an inescapable position," What-What's wrong?" He started leaning closer, the grip you had against the mug slowly loosening the more he leaned in.

"Why are you acting like nothing happened?" A confused expression took over your features as you looked up at him, only making you two even closer, barely an inch of space separating you two.

"Tell me (Y/n). Was what you did that night, was it really just out of care? Do you really not feel anything for me? For us?" His expression remained unchanged but on the inside, he was anxious. Anxious on what you'd say, anxious that he'd lose you to this situation, to these feelings. Your breath halted, mind processing his words. Does that mean he feels...? You thought he was a man incapable of these feelings, always wanting to stay closed off from the world then....

"I do, I feel a lot more for you than you can imagine." Your voice was only able to come out as a whisper as you saw his eyes light up, his arms pulling you closer against him as the mug slipped off your hand, crashing against the floor but that didn't stop him from leaning closer, your lips about to graze each other when, "How dare you two break pom pom's favourite mug!!"

Your eyes scanning the fabric of clothing from a new shop opened in Belobog, heavy footsteps entering the shop took your attention away.

'Oh no it's him again.'

As quickly as you can, you paid for the stuff you've already selected and scurried out the shop. Your hurried actions not going unnoticed by the captain of silvermane guards. 'Tenth time now this month.' His jaw clenched.

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

You made your way to the front door of your house as you heard the bell ring, peeping into the peephole to check who it was, you lightly gasped to yourself as you saw the captain of Silvermane guards. Your mind scrambled on what to do as voice from the other end of the door spoke.

"Don't even try this time. I'm not leaving until I talk to you."

You bit your lip in contemplation, releasing a deep sigh as you twisted your wrist, opening the door. You didn't dare meet his eyes as you walked inside, hearing the front door click shut behind you.

"Do you want some water?" You spoke aimlessly in a futile attempt to reduce his stare on you. Moving along the kitchen island you went to grab a bottle of water when you found yourself trapped inbetween the counter and a firm Chest. The hand that was stretched outward for the water came back infront of you, two much larger hands intertwining with back of yours and pressing both of them on the counter as if to make sure you won't run away again.

"Gepard..." Your voice came out meekly. You knew what this was about. You exactly knew but you didn't want to address it. It would ruin a lot of things, and you weren't willing to risk that.

"Why're you doing this?" Gepard's voice came out as a mere whisper, as if all the resolve from earlier broke. Releasing one of your hands he circled it around your waist, pulling you against him tight. As if it was a way of reminding both you and him why exactly was he here. You sucked in a sharp breath.

"Why do you keep avoiding me? Why are you so adamant on running away and not give us a chance to even talk about it."

You closed your eyes releasing a soft sigh. "There's really no point in talking about that Gep. It's futile. Plus you're my bestfriend's-"

"God woman she knows that I like you." Your breath got caught in your throat as you let his words sink in. "What..."

If it was possible, he pressed you even more against himself, nodding against your shoulder. "So will you just stop running away?" His voice had a certain edge to it that you couldn't quite pin point.

You looked back over your shoulder just as he leaned down, his lips pressing against the corner of yours.

"When are you planning on talking to him?" Asked Lady Fu as she stirred sugar into her tea cup.

The divination commission's weather was pleasant today. A gentle breeze soothing the skin but it did nothing to soothe your aching heart.

"I honestly don't know" you said, distracted by how the birds are flying overhead.

"You'll have to talk to him eventually. You can't keep on avoiding him. He might look aloof but he noticed it the very first time you sent another cloudknight to give him the reports which you usually do yourself." She took a sip of her tea.

"I'm just trying to delay it as much as I can. I can't find it in me to face it just yet." You sighed.

...........

"Long time no see Admiral" A soft yet firm voice spoke, head tilting sideways to look at you.

"Yes General." You nodded in agreement, climbing the stairs up to his chair, placing the stack of papers in front of him from the recent report on the stelleron.

"So...Was there any particular reason you asked of me today?" You stated slowly, trying to scan his face for what he's thinking but you should have known better.

His laugh echoed through the room, making your heart flutter. "I just wish to catch up. It's almost break. Mind joining me for a walk?"

.......

Cutting the walk short as Jing yuan took a seat beneath a tree, you stared at him, raising an eyebrow. "General?"

He chuckled.

"This is usually my nap time, forgive me for the tardiness. Why don't you join? I assure I won't be keeping you long." His voice spoke, extending a hand towards you.

You looked at it a little hesitant. You remember the last time you let him get too close to you. You're still having a hard time trying to forget those memories.

You took it after a moment of contemplation, stepping a foot forward when the world spun and you found yourself on Jing yuan's lap.

Your eyes widened a fraction, looking up at the said man as he slipped an arm around your waist. His other hand came up to trace your face as he stared intently in your eyes. Not able to take his gaze any longer you looked away.

Your name fell from his lips like a symphony and you found yourself looking at him again, your heart having a hard time assessing the situation as you placed a cautious hand to his chest, as if to create some sort of space between you two.

"There's no reason for you to run away." His tone dropping a note softer, his thumb traced over your bottom lip.

Your breath shuddered and you risked whispering "Please don't give me false hope."

"I'm not." Was all he said before he bent down and placed his lips against yours.

It was just another night as you strolled the streets of Luofu. The wind was nice today, you thought as you suddenly felt a presence behind you. You didn't need to look back to see who it was. "Done with the work already Blade?" You mused looking up at the said male from corner of your eye as he fell in step beside you.

"Well what do you think smartass?" He said with a raised eyebrow, a smirk threatening to break on his lips.

"A simple 'yes' would have been much more appreciated." Turning your face, you narrowed your eyes at him.

With that you both took off in a run, jumping off the ridge and down into the abyss as you were pulled against blade. "Can't have you hurting now can we?"

.........

You sucked in a sharp breath as Blade tightened up the bandage around your arm.

"Why the hell did you go on the mission that was assigned to both of us." It was more of a statement than a question as you scanned his features while his eyes were fixated on wrapping up your wounds.

"I needed to clear my head" And that was enough for him to snap his gaze up towards you, his jaw clenching further as if challenging you to saying something more.

It was partially the truth. You wanted to clear your head, but you omitted the part that you wanted to clear your hear off him. The light-hearted banter you both rejoiced in usually has been turning your heart ablaze recently, and you were certainly not going to let it do that.

In the next instant you found yourself sprawled against the bed, your back hitting it with a soft thud as you found Blade on top of you. "Do not test my patience." His voice was low and threatening as you averted your gaze, brows furrowing as your eyes fell on the chain encircling his neck. You reached a hand up, tracing the silver chain as you felt the engraved words around your finger tips.

He made no movements to push you away as you hesitantly looked at him. To any other it would have looked like Blade's normal poker face but you knew better.

Propping yourself up on one elbow the other pulled him down as you crashed your lips against his.

Him wearing your name was all you needed to know.

Masterlist

Written by yours truly

918 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

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Poisonously Bad Day

Requested Here! (Thank you so much for my first Tim Bradford req!!)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Just before your anniversary with Tim, you receive threatening messages. When someone tries to take your life, you and Tim learn the importance of talking to one another. (Or, Tim's crazy ex stalks you and Tim gets really worried about you.)

Warnings: reader is stalked and threatened, violence with a nail gun, reader has severe food allergies and uses an epi-pen, a little bit of grumpy x sunshine with our favorite grump, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: I do not have much practice writing for Tim, so I apologize if he's OOC. However, I really love writing for him and trying to capture his amazing character, so I love the practice and appreciate any other requests you send me! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim Bradford doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Or he didn’t before he met you. Your sunny personality drew him in, making his world a little brighter. From the moment he met you a few months ago, Tim has been enraptured by you. He’s still grumpy; his personality didn’t change overnight upon meeting you, but your sweet laugh and kind responses to his grumpiness make him happy. His smile isn’t as rare as it once was, but you still fight to see it, bringing as much sunshine as possible.

As your two-month anniversary approaches, you’re happier and giddier than usual. Toning it down as you knock on Tim’s door, you’re surprised to see him already smiling when he invites you in. It seems you’re rubbing off on him, even if he only shows you the softness that lies under the grumpy Tim you know and love. Although your relationship is very new, you haven’t even learned much about Tim’s previous relationships, you know you love him and treasure every moment you spend with your man of honor.

“Hey, you,” Tim mumbles, pulling you into a warm hug. “Missed you.”

“Long day?” you ask, pushing your fingers through his hair.

“Unbelievably. Nolan and Lopez decided to interrogate me about why I was in a ‘good mood’ all day.”

You stifle a laugh at Tim’s air quotes. He rolls his eyes when he sees your bright smile but pulls you into the kitchen anyway.

“I didn’t even know you could smile,” you tease him. “Now I want to know what caused the good mood.”

“I think you know.”

Despite his initial hesitance in getting close to you, Tim obviously knows how to treat you right and make you feel seen, appreciated, beautiful, and loved. Each moment you spend with him makes you a little more curious as to why no one has snatched him up yet. Yes, he’s grumpy, but he’s also just a big teddy bear underneath if you’re willing to dig.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim usually walks you home after dates, but he gets called into work, so you return alone. There is a small envelope slipped in the space between your door and the jamb, and you decide to open it before going inside.

The simple message reading ‘Back Off’ doesn’t give much information, so you shrug as you unlock the door. It’s probably just some kids messing around or a silly prank that ended up at the wrong house.

As soon as you lock the door behind you, your phone rings.

“Hello,” you greet cheerfully.

The line is silent for a few seconds before it beeps, disconnected from the other end.

“Wrong number,” you hum to yourself as you walk away from the phone.

When it rings again, you don’t answer. Your cell phone rings, a rare picture of Tim smiling (that he will delete as soon as he finds it) lighting up your screen as you race to answer it.

“Hey,” you say.

“I called your house a second ago, are you home yet?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, someone called right before with a wrong number, and I thought it was them again.”

Tim hums before telling you he wouldn’t be at work as long as he thought; he just needed to help with some paperwork before a case went to court.

“I can get reservations for next weekend if you’re still okay with my restaurant choice.”

You smile at Tim’s willingness to let you choose before assuring him that you only want to be with him, but you like the food there, too, so it’s a win-win.

After Tim hangs up, you fall asleep, forgetting about the note and the phone call.

✯✯✯✯✯

Someone knocks on your door as you exit your bedroom the following morning. You locate a bathrobe, pulling it over your pajamas before opening the door. Another envelope is on your mat, but no one is in sight.

The message in this one is a bit more concerning. The message, typed in a plain black font, reads: ‘I will KILL you to take him back.’

You consider calling Tim, asking him if he knows of any pranks like this going on in the neighborhood before deciding he’s probably too busy with real police work. Maybe you’re just paranoid.

Your cell phone rings, and you answer quickly, silencing when the only noise on the other end is distorted breathing. After they hang up, your thumb hovers over Tim’s number.

“Grow up,” you chide yourself before returning to your room to get ready.

✯✯✯✯✯

Throughout the day, more creepy phone calls are made to your cell phone until you finally turn it off. When you meet Tim for lunch, he asks if you got the message he sent you, and you tell him a white lie: too many telemarketers were calling, and you turned it off. He nods, but his gaze is intense like he doesn’t quite believe you.

✯✯✯✯✯

After three days of phone calls with nothing but breathing and more notes about someone killing you to get whoever him is back from you, you’re tired. However, the morning goes by with no calls, and you think maybe whatever it was is finally over. When you walk out to your car, you freeze in the driveway and nearly drop everything you’re holding.

Someone has slashed your tire and put a large building nail through it to attach a note.

You are next.

Up to this point, you’ve been more agitated than anything, but now you’re scared. Whoever this is has been close to you and knows when you come and go. But, at the same time, it’s just some notes and phone calls, not like you’re in any immediate danger.

Your phone buzzes, and you jump, an incoming text from Tim startling you. You reply to his message quickly, telling him you ran over a nail at some point and won’t be able to meet him for lunch. Seconds after pressing send, he calls you.

“Morning,” you answer, staring at the nail in your tire.

“Are you alright?” he asks, ignoring your nice greeting.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m still at home, just noticed the tire.”

“I can come pick you up for lunch,” he offers. “Or come see you.”

“It’s completely out of the way, Tim, no worries. I’ll make up for it tomorrow?”

Tim doesn’t speak for a moment, and you can nearly see the crease on his forehead as he dissects your answers.

“Sure,” he says finally. “Call me if that changes.”

As he ends the call, he rubs his chin and decides to ask you what’s going on next time he sees you. You had been so happy and excited leading up to your anniversary, but it’s like a switch was flipped in you, and now you don’t want to talk to him. He believes you about the tire, but something else is bothering you, and he intends to find out what.

✯✯✯✯✯

Eating lunch at your desk, someone brings you a box from your favorite bakery.

“This was delivered to the front desk,” your coworker says, leaving it with you.

There are no names on it, but Tim is one of very few people who knows how much you like their treats. He also knows that you have severe food allergies, and it is one of the few bakeries in Los Angeles that happily works around them. Smiling at the idea of Tim sending you something after your rough morning, you open the box and take one of the goodies out.

After the third or fourth bite, you realize something is really wrong. As your throat closes, you start to panic as you dig through your bag for your epi-pen. One of the girls at a desk near you sees you and rushes to your aid, pulling your spare epi-pen from the communal snack area and inserting the tip into your leg as she yells for someone else to call 911.

The adrenaline surges into you, clearing your throat as you take a deep breath. Immediately, you know that whoever slashed your tires knows more than where you live and when you leave.

✯✯✯✯✯

The hospital is busy, and people are in and out of your room so frequently that you can barely think straight. You hear someone yell your name, recognizing Tim’s voice anywhere. He appears in the doorway a moment later, wide-eyed as he looks you over.

“I completely forgot I put you as my emergency contact. I’m so sorry,” you apologize lowly.

“What happened?” he asks, his voice softer than it was outside as he nears your side.

“I- I ate something and forgot to check the ingredients. Then I couldn’t find my epi-pen.”

Tim knows you always check the ingredients; your allergies dictate part of your life. If you didn’t make it or order it after inquiring about its ingredients or how it’s made, you don’t eat it.

“How are you feeling now?” Tim asks, deciding it’s not the best time to press for the truth. His hand lands on your leg, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“I’m okay. My chest is still a little tight but they gave me something for it.”

“Let me call my chief and I’ll take the rest of the day off so I can take you home,” he offers.

“No, don’t do that, Tim. One of my coworkers can give me a ride home so you can go back to work.”

“I don’t think you should be alone.”

“The medicine is working, I just have to give it time and take it easy for a few hours. I promise I will be fine.”

Tim nods, squeezing your hand before kissing your forehead. “If you need anything, call me.”

You nod, watching him go. The feeling of his hand on yours is still there, and you feel terrible for lying to him, but there’s no real evidence that someone is trying to hurt you. Maybe someone was trying to be kind with the treats and didn’t know about your allergies.

Even as you think it, you realize it sounds ridiculous. You’re in danger, and you’re going to have to tell someone eventually.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your coworker drops you off after you insist you can walk to the door alone. Mostly, you don’t want her to see the giant nail in your tire.

Worse, you realize, is the other one. You slow when you see your front door, with a six-inch building nail driven into it. It’s nearly level with your eyes, and a disgusting mix of red and brown paint covers the door below it. A replica of a murder scene, you presume.

Finally understanding that every little thing over the last few days has been a threat, you don’t feel safe alone in your house. Stepping back, you prepare to call Tim.

Before you can, you see a woman standing in your driveway, staring at you with a nail gun and a paintbrush hanging from her hand.

“Who are you?” you ask quietly, swallowing as you try to steady your voice.

“I’m the one that Tim Bradford is supposed to be with,” she answers, slowly moving toward you. “Everyone could see how good we were together. Then you showed up and he changed his mind about me. Whatever you did to get him away from me… I will do so much more to you.”

You step backward as she speaks, fumbling with your keys behind your back. Just as she reaches the front of your porch, you step inside quickly and slam the door, locking it and looking around frantically for something you can use as a weapon. It gets quiet outside, not even a footstep audible as you hold your breath to listen.

A key slides easily into your lock, and you scramble into the kitchen, loosening your grip on your stuff to grab a knife on your way to the bathroom, one of the only doors that lock. The front door closes and locks, her easy footsteps far too familiar with the layout of your home.

Reaching for your phone to call for help, you realize that you dropped your phone to get the knife. You stand in front of the bathtub, terrified as you raise the knife in front of your chest.

After a moment of silence that seems to last an eternity, the doorknob jiggles. You tighten your grip on the knife handle as she hums.

A nail shoots through the lock, lodging in the metal mechanisms, and you back up until your calves are pressed to the cool side of the tub. Another nail comes through the door, launching through the hollow wood and lodging into the tile on the wall behind you. You drop your head as the tile shatters, and a third nail follows quickly, her aim much lower as it hooks your pants, pinning you to the porcelain behind you. You rip your leg free, stepping away from the tub and failing to notice the stinging sensation or the blood trickling down your ankle as you climb into the tub, hoping it offers enough protection.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim clenches his jaw when his third call to you goes unanswered. You promised to keep him updated after the anaphylaxis scare, but it’s been a couple hours since he left you in the hospital, and he hasn't heard a thing.

“Tim, just go,” Angela says, a knowing look on her face. “You won’t be able to focus until you know they’re okay. Unless you’re finally willing to tell me who brought a little sunshine to Timothy Bradford’s cloudy skies,” she taunts at the end.

Tim lets out a soft “hmm,” accepting her offer and gathering his things from the edge of her desk.

“She must be important,” Angela calls behind him, smirking to herself when he doesn’t correct her.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your breaths are loud and shaky even as you focus on controlling them. Several more clicks are heard from the nail gun, and you flinch each time, curling further into the bathtub. A loud screech draws your attention, a second nail dislodging the knob and the lock before the door opens.

You take your chance, hoping to surprise her as you jump toward her, knocking her to the floor and using both hands to point the nail gun away from you. She tries to roll out from under you, squeezing the trigger and firing a nail into the ceiling as she does. A small shower of drywall dust coats the room, but you keep your head down, entirely focused on keeping her at arm’s length.

“When it ends – when you end – I get him back!” she grunts, twisting in your grasp.

The sharper end of the paintbrush she had earlier is pushed into your side, and you gasp, loosening your grip on the nail gun. She raises it quickly as she tilts to the side, dumping you onto the floor and taking the upper hand. A nail is fired beside your head, momentarily deafening you as you flinch away from it.

You are unsure if she said him or Tim, but you think she means the same either way. Tim is the only thing you can think of that someone might want to take back from you.

“Isn’t that his choice?” you ask, pushing her hands away from you as she gets angrier.

She drops the paintbrush before using both hands to push the nail gun toward your forehead. You raise your legs, kicking her forward and over your head. As she topples, she squeezes the trigger multiple times. After the last firing sound, you open your eyes and notice a nail holding your shirt to the floor.

When you hear her groan behind you, you reach over until you feel the metal trash can beside your toilet, raising it over your head and dropping it aimlessly.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim has dozens of questions he wants to ask, but as he races to your house, they slowly fade into two: are you safe, and how can he make you see that telling him everything will benefit you both? He knows he doesn’t always seem like the best listener and isn’t big on sharing, but he wants to know what is happening in your life, what you’re feeling, and what you’re dealing with. More than that, he wants to be at your side, helping you navigate a life with him.

✯✯✯✯✯

The door opens with a loud bang, causing you to flinch. You attempt to sit up before yelping in pain when something tugs your side. Someone is running through your house, and you’re torn between yelling for help or staying silent in case she wasn’t working alone.

Tim yells your name, and you sigh before answering, “In the bathroom.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim turns into your driveway, blocking the sidewalk as he parks behind your car, he sees the oversized nail protruding from your tire. Walking past it, he knows that wasn’t accidental, nor was the slash below it.

Worried about you and racking his brain over who would do something like that to you, he sees the scene on your door and kicks it open before he even thinks to knock.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim stops in the hallway, his eyes raking over the nails lining the door and the few stray ones in the wall across the hallway. It appears that most of the attack was aimed at the bathroom, but whatever happened escalated quickly.

Using his shoulder, he forcefully opens the door before entering the small bathroom. He steps over your unconscious assailant, lowering to his knee beside you. Looking over you, he lays a hand on the side of your neck, a warm and welcome comfort as he directs you to look at him.

You try to move closer to him, but he rushes to stop you.

“Don’t. Don’t move. The ambulance and more help are on the way, let’s just wait for them,” he says.

You nod, trusting him but unsure why he won’t let you move.

“Is she…” you ask, trailing off.

“She’s unconscious,” Tim answers concisely. “What’d you hit her with?”

“The trashcan,” you answer, a small smile appearing and making Tim shake his head.

“I should get one of those,” Tim jokes, leaning toward you.

Sirens grow louder as they get closer, and Tim sighs in relief.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “I can’t ask what happened yet, that’s for the next cop. But as your boyfriend, are you okay?”

“I am now,” you answer, raising your hand to lay over his on your jaw.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Do you know who she is?” the officer asks as the EMT sits beside you.

“No,” you answer. “I’ve been getting phone calls and messages for a few days, but I’ve never seen her before.”

“I have,” Tim interjects, shaking his head at you before supplying a name. “My ex.”

“Any idea as to why she attacked you?” the officer asks, glancing toward Tim.

“Sergeant Bradford, I presume. She said she’d kill me to get him back, but never said who him was,” you answer.

Tim nods, lowering his voice to explain something to the officer as the EMT asks questions about how you feel.

You sigh in relief as the paramedics carry Tim’s unconscious ex out, gripping Tim’s hand as he moves to your side again.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” the kind EMT says.

Tim moves his fingers, letting you squeeze him as much as you need.

“The nail caught some of your skin, but I’m going to try to go fast to minimize the pain.”

Understanding why it hurt to sit up before, you focus on Tim’s hand in yours rather than the hands on your torso, working to free you from the bathroom floor and stop the bleeding.

“All done,” the EMT announces. “You didn’t even flinch. We’ll get you to the hospital and let the doctors check everything.”

You sit up with Tim’s help, leaning against him as a temporary bandage is placed on your side. Looking around your destroyed bathroom, you move closer to Tim, grateful for him.

“Your ex is crazy,” you mumble against his shoulder.

Tim laughs, and it's a short but relieved noise accompanying his arm across your back, keeping you close and comforted.

“We’ll fix the bathroom later,” he promises.

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, prompting Tim to kiss the crease between them. “You’re not coming back here for a few days. Don’t give me that look.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Leaving the hospital, Tim lifts you from the wheelchair, staring at you when you grab his shoulders.

“I can walk, Tim,” you remind him.

He doesn’t listen or doesn’t care, taking the last few steps to the passenger seat and setting you down before buckling your seat belt, mindful of your bandaged side. He carries you into his house, grabbing some of your favorite snacks and drinks before sitting beside you and welcoming you into his arms. He’s quiet, but you’ve grown to understand Tim’s different silences better than most people’s words.

Right now, he’s relieved, but you’re sure he has a lot of questions, too. Getting him to ask them is the hard part.

“Have any other exes I should know about?” you ask after a few minutes.

“Hmm.” He raises his fingers as he nods and shakes his head, a playful ‘debate’ over who is worthy of being mentioned. Lowering his hands and giving you a sincere look, he says, “No, I don’t think so. And I’m sorry I didn’t mention her, I never expected she’d do something like this.”

You nod, though you never considered blaming him for something so completely out of his control. This is all on her, and she’ll have a chance to explain herself.

“Think I’d be a crazy ex?”

“You won’t be an ex at all,” Tim answers, tugging you closer against his chest.

Turning toward him, you trace your finger in small shapes over his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tim asks gently.

You shrug. “I didn’t know how. And it wasn’t that bad at first.”

“You have to tell me these things or I don’t know something is wrong, I can’t help.”

“But you get grumpy,” you reply with an exaggerated pout.

Tim proves you right, grumbling even as he kisses you. “I’m allowed to be grumpy when someone is hurting the woman I love.”

You sit up quickly, and Tim’s eyes widen, his hands raising to your side as he grows concerned that you hurt yourself.

“You love me?”

Tim shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he mutters, “Against my better judgment, yes.”

You giggle at his grumpiness, leaning back into his side. He pulls your legs across his lap, letting you curl completely into his side. Toying with the hem of his your borrowed sweatpants, Tim lets his mind wander before tracing a gentle finger around the bandage on your ankle.

“Tickles,” you argue when you yank your leg away from him.

Tim pulls your leg back down, pointing out, “I deserve a few tickles after the week you put me through.”

“I was poisoned, and you had a bad week?” you repeat.

“I knew you were lying, you lying liar that lies!”

You duck your head at the reminder of everything you kept from Tim over the last few days. The anniversary you were so excited about now seems tainted.

“Hey,” Tim whispers, drawing your attention. “I’m not mad at you. And whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m right here.”

“I don’t even know how she found out about the allergies,” you mumble.

“That’s probably my fault. I have notes and epi-pens everywhere, so if she was close enough to do this to you, she was close enough to find any of my stuff laying around.”

You shiver at the idea of her going through your things, but Tim’s hand rubs down your back and chases those thoughts away.

Taking his invitation, you start at the beginning and tell him about the notes, the phone calls, the bakery box, and how the little, seemingly harmless notes progressed so quickly. He grows grumpier with each word, so you determine you may need to make the ending a bit more interesting for him.

“And then my knight in shining armor showed up and saved the day,” you finish, kissing his cheek. “He’s just a grumpy teddy bear.”

Tim pulls you closer, glad to have your company again. “Tell me things and I’ll be even more of a teddy bear.”

You smile excitedly, so Tim clarifies, “Only for you.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #tw: violence #tw: injury #🐿 anon

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starrybl1ss · 5 months

Text

burning desire౨ৎ

⋆｡°🕯️✩.˚₊

stu macher ghostface!abby x billy loomis ghostface!ellie x sidney prescott!reader

໒꒱ ⋆ﾟ⊹

<;> importaint info (please read) Hii! Sooo, the storyline of the fic is abt this part in the scream 1 but i changed it up a bit! ౨ৎ warnings: threesom, mention of blood, murder, smut, fingering, knife play, betrayal??, both psycos eating u outtt, pet names, swearing, trauma, death threats, angst, dead body but not really??? begging

꒰୨୧꒱

The night was a total horror, it just all started from the woodsboro murder of casey becker, the girl from your school and now it has turned into a nightmare to you and everyone else.

All the murder that the anonymus serial killer in the ghostface mask has done. Your friends, dead. It's all a tragedy,

The aftermath of the party at abby's is all fucked up. Now your running around for your life inside abby's house, terrified.

Your currently upstairs. Now your running down the stairs, sweat and blood all over you.

Your heartbeat felt like it stopped when you saw dina on the living room floor with blood all over.

You start sobbing. "O-oh my fucking g-god! Dina?!" You yelled while breathing heavily.

You quickly looked up as you heard a noise so your ran as quickly as possible towards the kitchen trying to hide when you bumped into abby.

"Woah, woah you 'kay?" She asked you. You panicked around and finally replied trying to catch a breathe "F-fuck, t-the killer is... is.. is fucking here, Dina's dead we need to call the cops and get the fuck out of here abby!"

You heard a noise and looked back quickly as you saw... ghostface.... standing there. You shrieked "FUCK, ABBY LETS GO!"

"shhh, calm down" she insured you. "ARE YOU MAD? THERES A KILLER INFRONT OF US" you shouted at her getting ready to run.

Suddenly, the killer took off the mask and... and... ellie?! "Suprise babe" she said grinning. "WHAT THE FUCK ELLIE?"

You were in horror. "ABBY WE SHOULD FUCK OFF AND RUN" as abby hugs you from behind, she grabbed something from her pocket, a soundbox...

She turned on the soundbox and began speaking. "Hello, y/n" with the terrifying voice that you have heard so many time through the phone before getting attacked.

"SHIT, ABBY LET ME GO PLEASE" you cried out. abby doesn't answer. Ellie got closer and lifts up your chin. "You thought i could do this fucked up game alone huh?"

Ellie lets out her hand as abby game the voice box to her. She turned the voice box on "wanna play a game..... y/n?" She laughed madly. She sounds like she has lost her mind.

"please.... Just fucking let me go..." you begged. Abby whispers in your ear "how bout we draw a little blood first?"

"god, please no... let me go please" you helplessly sob. Tears falling down your cheeks as ellie whipes them off. "It's okay babe, we'll be gentle" as her sweet caring smile turns into an evil smirk.

"Fucking hell ellie, i thought i trusted you" you said. "I know, i know im sooooo sorry babe" she whispers while holding you. Her left hand on your shoulder and right hand on your hips.

"i should have let you rot in jail until your execution day" you sobbed. "You'd miss me if i was gone doll" ellie said.

"See y/n? Wont you miss her if she was gone? Counting down days until she gets executed and die? You wouldn't want that right pretty?" Abby said still holding you back.

"I would, but now i wish you two were fucking dead" you replied with anger. "What if your the one whos gonna be dead tonight doll?" Ellie walk around slowly around the kitchen.

"Fuck you." You yelled while still trying to catch a breath. Ellie gets closer to your body. "What was that? You don't need to act so bitter babe"

"dont ever call me 'babe' again you fucking bitch!" You shout at her. "Remember i have a knife right? I could stab you and gut out your insides anytime. But i won't"

Ellie pulls out her knife as you try to flee from abbys arm but it was impossible, she was so strong. "FUCK YOU BITCHES LET ME GO!" you screamed.

Ellie drags the side of the knife around your bare stomache as you were wearing tight croptop. You felt the cold sensation of the knife on your skin without drawing any blood but is enough to make you panic.

"you look so pretty like this doll" said to you grinning. You were breathing heavily but her words somehow made you blush.

"Awh, your so cute" she teased dragging the knife lower down your stomache. "F-fuck..." you said as your skin gets cold due to the knife.

"Dont worry pretty, ellie's knife is clean. She hasnt killed anyone with it" abby insured you.

Ellie circles the side of her blade on your lower stomache with you closing your eyes. "Don't pretend that you dont like that" she said teasingly.

She stop and slides down the end of her blade carefully down your shorts without making you bleed. You whimper softly from her actions.

"S-shit dont fucking stop" you said desperately. Abby grabs your chin and starts kissing you as ellie drops her knife on the floor and unbutton your short jeans.

Now your just gonna let two psycopaths to ruin you rather than gutting your insides, enexpected but you enjoyed the thrill of it.

It was like 5 minutes ago that you were screaming, begging and shouting telling them to stop but this time you'll be doing the same but differently.

Ellie takes off your jeans leaving your panties on as abby lets go and sits down. Ellie pushes you like a fucking ragdoll throwing you down on abby's lap as you groan.

Ellie squats down infront of you still in the mysterious black coat. She pulls down your panties to your lower knee as you let out a small gasp.

"Fuck, you get soaked real quick babe" you were avoiding eyes contact from the tense when suddenly you felt her two fingers right in you.

"Sh-shit..." she whispered. She then curled her fingers that made you arch your back "ah- fuuuckkkk!" You groan out.

She pulls out both her fingers out of you. "N-no, no pleaseeee dont stop!" You cried out. "Don't worry babe, im not planning to anyways"

She quickly opens up your legs. Her face got closer to your soaking cunt. She gave you small licks around as you grabbed on to abby's thighs.

Then ellie totally eats you out like she was almost starved to death. "mmphhhh! Fucking hell! Shitshitshitshit- a-ah!" You yelled out.

"Fucking hell ellie, move out of the way its my turn to fuck the living shit out of her" as abby stood up and pushes ellie out of the way.

Ellie drops down and tumbles to the floor. "WHATS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM ABS? IM GONNA FUCKING STAB YOU IF YOU KEEP DOING THAT YOU SLUT" ellie yells at her.

"Yeah, you can stab me later after i fuck the brains out of this stupid girl" abby replied.

Abby starts kissing and making out with your sloppy cunt aggresively. Her saliva mixed with your juices. "ngghh- shoot im gonna fucking cum!" You shouted.

"Fuck this abby, i want her to cum on my stupid fucking face. IM HER FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! MOVE" ellie pushes abby and quickly eats you out.

A loud groan leaves your mouth as you came all over ellie's face making her satisfied. "Okay, now can you move?" Abby asks ellie in an annoyed tone.

"Fine whatever" ellie rolled her eyes and moved back. Abby sudenlly flips your body bruising you a bit. "The fuck abby? Could you be more careful with her?!"

"Shut up" she replied. Abby pulls down her pants revealing her black strap-on. Oh fuck- i mean its so big... if you could see it you'd probably think i wont fit at all.

Without hesitation, abby shoves her strap in you causing a little shock to you. "Fuck abby!" You yelled out.

She went back and forth. Fast, and i mean fast. You felt like she was about to cut you in half. Not like she hasn't tried doing that to you in more brutal way.

Abby looks at ellie. "Won't you just sit on her fucking face?" She said smirking. "Sure she could breathe?" Ellie asked grinning. You managed to choke up some words "Please just fucking sit on me"

"Your so desperate. Getting all nasty to be fucked by literal serial killers" ellie said holding your chin so you could face her. then she kissed your lips.

Abby got off of you and flipped your small body again from the floor.

Ellie took off her coat, her pants.... and her boxers. She went on top of your face, hovering on top of your lips. Your lips are just a few inches from her cunt.

Then she sat on your lips, bumping her clit on your cute nose, huffing. You twirled around her cunt. "Oh fuck..." ellie groaned.

Suddenly you felt someone breathing on your cunt. Thats when you knew abby was already under you, licking your fucking wet cunt.

You moaned into ellie's cunt from the action. Ellie stopped and when off you.

She kissed you on the lips and whispered into your ear "you know we're not done with you right, doll?"

The night would never end. Maybe it will, if the god damn cops caught you getting your brains fucked out by two serial killers.

౨ৎ

KAY THIS WAS NASTYYYY ANYWHO IM SOOO PROUD OF THIS AND SO HAPPY THAT I COULD POST THIS TODAYYYY!!! Lately been sooo obsessed with scream like i wish i watched it sooner!!!!ALSO PLS DONT ASK WHAT HAPPENDS TO DINA NEXT LIKE GIRL GOT STABBED AND IGNORE THE FACT THEY DID A FUCKING THREESOME NEAR DINAS (dead??? Idfk) BODY. LETS JUST HOPE SHES OK😭

#ellie x reader #ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #scream #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson ghostface #ellie williams ghostface #ghostface #Ghostface smut #Ellabs #ellabs x reader #Billy loomis #Stu macher #Sidney prescott

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luuuuucyscorner · 7 days

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞- 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

Chapter Three. Info: Y/n and Spider's hangout goes differently than expected.

Tags: 18+, SMUT!, oral (fem recieving), drinking games, alcohol, kissing, swearing

word count: 16K

A/n- Can we js pretend the film has the accents, Letterboxd had nothing😭🙏 I am also painfully aware that curisers are not strong. especially Australian ones. I'm also really unhappy with this chapter.

Gif by me

After school, Spider arrives at your house, eagerly knocking on the door. When you open it, he flashes his signature grin. "Hey, Y/n. Ready for our little soiree?" He asks excitedly, stepping inside. He glances around the living room, taking note of the decorations. "Not a bad pad ya got here. Reminds me of home a bit, actually." He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. "So, what's the plan? Movies? Music? Or maybe a game night?" He suggests casually, attempting to gauge your mood. Unable to contain his nerves, he sits down on the couch, occasionally glancing at you.

Y/n sits next to him, "hmm well what are you feeling Spider?" she shifts, pulling her shirt neckline down accidentally,

Spider's eyes are immediately drawn to the glimpse of cleavage, his pulse accelerating. He quickly looks away, trying to maintain his composure. "Well, I reckon it depends on you, Y/n. Whatever you want is fine by me," he replies, struggling to mask the sudden rush of desire. He shifts awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he speaks. "Though...maybe we could start with somethin' simple? Wine and a movie, perhaps?" He suggests, hoping it'd set the mood for the evening. Despite his earlier proposal, seeing your bare skin had changed his priorities somewhat.

"wine? yeah, I'll see what we have. You planning on getting drunk tonight Spider?" you smirk teasingly.

Spider returns your smirk with one of his own. "Depends on how much you've got, mate," he quips, raising an eyebrow suggestively. "But I'm up for a few glasses, yeah. Can't complain about winding down with a beautiful woman and some decent vino." He saunters towards the kitchen, peering into the fridge. "Whatcha got? Red? White? Maybe something in between?" He chucks a bottle onto the counter, examining it critically before popping the cork. "This should do nicely."

Carrying the bottle and two wine glasses, you sit down together on the leather couch.

"what film are you feeling? what does Spencer White get down to?" you tease.

Grinning slyly, Spider replies, "Well, Y/n, I'm into most films. But let's keep things PG-13, shall we? Don't want any awkward moments with your ma comin' home early." He grabs the remote and flips through channels, eventually settling on a romantic comedy. "There we go. Pretty harmless." He sinks into the couch, leaning close enough to brush against your side. "Now, what did ya wanna know about ol' Spence?" He asks teasingly, a devilish glint in his eye.

"I want to know if he actually enjoys crap like this" you motion to the film, a slight laugh in your tone.

"Ah, love," Spider begins, feigning offense. "I may be a rough Aussie bloke, but I appreciate a good rom-com from time to time." He chuckles softly, nudging you playfully with his elbow. "Gotta have some heart-warming stuff in life, right?" He settles back into the couch, draping an arm along the backrest near you. "Wanna snuggle up, or remain professional over here?" He indicates the space next to him, inviting you closer.

"Is that an invite Spider?" you challenge teasingly.

Spider's cheeks flush a bright red, clearly taken aback by your comment. "Uh, yeah, I guess it was," he stammers, stuttering slightly. "I didn't mean anything by it, Leia. Just thought we could watch the movie together, y'know?" He fumbles with his glass of wine, trying to hide his nervousness. "Sorry if I made ya feel uncomfortable, that wasn't my intention." Despite his embarrassment, there was a hint of excitement in his voice. "You decide, though. Want some distance? I'll move over." He offers, ready to adjust accordingly.

"Nah I'm just fucking with you, Handsome" You laugh nonchalantly and shuffle up to him.

Relief washes over Spider's face as he adjusts his position to make room for you. "Alright, love. No need to scare a fella like that," he chuckles, trying to regain his composure. He nestles further into the cushion, allowing you ample space beside him. "Glad we're clear on that front. Never wanna ruin a good time with awkward nonsense." He settles in for the movie, though his thoughts drift elsewhere. Your proximity only fuels his desires, making it difficult to focus on the screen.

the movie ends and the bottle of wine has been drained. "can I put on another film? all good if not!" you ask

"Yeah, go ahead, love," Spider agrees enthusiastically. "Your choice, after all." He relinquishes control of the remote, handing it to you with a nod. "Even if it's a docu about kangaroos, I'll sit through it." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. As you switch to your preferred selection, he leans in closer, his arm brushing yours gently. "Fancy another drink while we wait for this to start?" He inquires, reaching for the empty wine bottle.

you start scrolling for the film "Sure, there's vodka cruisers if you want something stronger. grab anything!"

"Vodka cruiser, eh?" Spider raises an eyebrow, intrigued by the suggestion. "Never had one of those before. Gimme a sec." He ambles towards the fridge, returning with two cold bottles. Handing you one, he pops the cap off his own. "To a great night, Y/n," he says, clinking it against yours. Taking a swig, he winces slightly at the potency. "Fuck, that packs a punch!" He chuckles, wiping his mouth. "So, whatcha got in store for us?" He inquires, leaning back on the couch expectantly.

"fight club! the one with Brad Pitt! god he's so fine" you say excitedly

Spider's brows furrow as he watches the opening credits, a hint of jealousy creeping into his expression. "Brad Pitt, huh? Bit of a looker, that fella," he mutters under his breath. He takes another sip of his cruiser, attempting to ignore the pang in his chest. "Still, there's only one Spider White, love. Can't replace the original." He tries to laugh it off, but the unease lingered. He settles into the couch, attempting to enjoy the movie despite himself. "Guess I'll just have to outperform him then, hey?" He jests, trying to diffuse his feelings.

"well you're not doing too badly Handsome" you confirm, smiling

His gaze flickers to you, meeting your eyes momentarily. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Y/n. Means a lot comin' from you. But don't worry, I ain't here to compete with Hollywood heartthrobs. Just here for a good time." He resumes watching the film, but his mind keeps wandering back to your compliment. A warmth spreads through him, both flattered and uncertain how to handle such praise.

"well how about an Aussie heartthrob like you chooses the next film?" you whisper into his ear flirtily, admittedly a little tipsy.

Startled by your whisper, Spider's heart races. He turns to face you, a mixture of surprise and desire clouding his eyes. "An Aussie heartthrob, huh?" He whispers back seductively, leaning closer. "Well, how 'bout this? I pick the next film, and you gotta do a shot every time someone speaks in an accent other than ours." He grins mischievously, challenging you. "Sound fair, love?" He waits for your agreement before standing up, searching for alternative movies.

"That seems unfair. I'm so in" you whisper, impossibly close to his ear

Smiling triumphantly, Spider nods. "Alright then. Deal's struck." He reaches for the remote, clicking through options. "Let's see...how 'bout The Great Gatsby? Plenty of accents in that one." He selects the movie, turning to face you. "Ready to lose your inhibitions, Love?" He teases, holding out a shot glass filled with vodka. "On your mark..."

"get set..." you continue, staring right into his brown eyes.

As your gazes locked, Spider's pulse quickened. His fingers tremble slightly as he lifts the glass to his lips, downing the shot in one gulp. "Go," he murmurs hoarsely, setting the glass aside. With newfound boldness, he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "Don't forget - every non-Aussie accent equals a shot." He whispers seductively, his tone laden with promise. The heat between you grew palpable.

"and don't forget every non- British accent is a shot too Handsome" you flirt.

Spider chuckles softly, appreciating your challenge. "Alright, love. Every non-Aussie or non-British accent, then." He confirms, adjusting his grip on your waist. "Best keep count, though. Could get messy." The movie starts, and you both down your second shot promptly. DiCaprio's rich American drawl earned a third drink. By the end of the first twenty minutes, you'd already consumed four shots. Spider couldn't help but grin deviously. "Looks like this is gonna be a wild ride."

"you don't say" You bite your lip, drunkenly.

Spider's gaze falls to your lips, his heart pounding. "Mmm, looks like it," he agrees, his voice low and husky. The alcohol heightened his senses, making it impossible to ignore the electric atmosphere. He tilts his head, brushing your hair away from your face tenderly. "Better start hydratin', love," he suggests, offering you water. "Can't have you passin' out on ol' Spence now." His hands shake slightly as he hands you the glass.

"Nah, after the film handsome, I'm British, not a lightweight"

Spider swallows hard, his throat dry from anticipation. "Alright, alright. Fair enough, Y/n." He relaxes slightly, sipping his own drink. "Just remember what we agreed upon." The film unfolds, each foreign accent leading to another round of shots. As the tension mounted, Spider's nerves intensifying. He couldn't shake the desire simmering between you. Yet, he knew better than to push boundaries too far. For now, he'd bide his time and enjoy the ride.

After the film, and over fifteen shots later, Spider was helping gather empty shot glasses and returning bottles to the fridge, his movements careful and considerate. "Well, that was quite the experience," he muses, wiping down the coffee table. "Think I might need a break from all these accents." He gives a soft chuckle, cleaning up remnants of the evening. As he passes you a trash bag, your fingers brushed briefly. "Thanks for havin' me over, Y/n. Had a blast, even if I lost track of those damn shots." He tries to maintain his cockiness, but the warmth in his chest betrays him. "Look forward to our next adventure."

she drops the trash bag and pulls him closer by his wrist. "spence.." she whispers, dunkenly

Spider freezes at your touch, the intimacy overwhelming him. His breath hitches as he looks into your eyes, his resolve wavering. Though he knew better than to cross lines, the temptation proved too much. "Yeah, Love?" He rasps, his heart pounding like a jackhammer. His body leans involuntarily towards yours, curiosity tugging at him. The air crackled with unspoken desire, leaving him suspended in uncertainty.

"you should kiss me" her voice bearly audioble.

For a brief moment, Spider simply stares at you, dumbfounded. Then, his resolve crumbles. Leaning closer, he cupped your face gently. "Fuck it," he breathes, sealing your lips with his. The kiss was passionate yet cautious, laden with untamed emotion. He tasted the vodka on your tongue, feeling your slight resistance melt away under his touch. This unexpected turn left him both exhilarated and terrified, unsure where it would lead. All he knew was that he wanted more.

Spider motions for you to jump and he grabs onto the back of your thighs, carrying you like you weigh nothing. placing you onto the kitchen counter, standing between your spread legs, out of breath

Spider's heart pounds in his ears as he stands between your legs, panting lightly. His eyes lock onto yours, searching for permission. "You sure, Y/n?" He asks quietly, his voice shaking. This sudden shift left him both thrilled and apprehensive. He aches to explore further, yet respect your boundaries. Sweat glistens on his forehead, a testament to his nervous energy. "If you change your mind, let me know." He whispers, uncertainty marring his bravado.

"shut up Spider, just kiss me" you say, the cold of the kitchen counter pricking your thighs.

Emboldened by your words, Spider silences his doubts with a deep, lingering kiss. Despite his anxiety, he allows himself to indulge in the moment. Gently, he explores your body with his hands, tracing delicate contours beneath your shirt. When you broke the kiss, he hesitates but listens attentively. "Your call, love. Whatever feels right for you," he promises, swallowing hard. He kneels between your legs, his hands trembling slightly as he undoes your jeans. His anxiety giving way to determination, focusing on pleasing you instead of himself.

"oh Handsome" you moan as he takes off your jeans.

Hearing your moan sent shivers down Spider's spine. He pauses for a moment, taking in the sight before him. "Jesus, you're gorgeous," he whispers hoarsely, his gaze fixed on you. Gently, he trails kisses along your inner thigh, igniting a fire within him. Every inch revealed stoked his desire, yet he remains focused on satisfying you. As his tongue darts out, he tastes your sweetness, savoring each sensation. Your moans fueling his efforts, driving him to perform better.

"Spencer, that feels so good" you're spread out on the counter and your hands are tangled in his hair.

Spider's breath catches in his throat at your praise. Encouraged, he delves deeper, eager to make you feel good. His heart hammers against his ribs, adrenaline coursing through him. Each pull of your hips and gasp of pleasure drives him further. Despite his own anxieties, he finds release in pleasuring you. Your hands tightening in his hair only emboldened him, the connection overwhelming yet gratifying. With renewed vigor, he continues his exploration, losing himself in the rhythm.

You gasp violently, moaning and tugging at his hair "I'm so close handsome. oh my god spencer"

"Comin' for me, love?" Spider questions urgently, his voice thick with lust. He picks up pace, matching your intensity. Your cries fueling him, pushing past his own discomfort. Sensing your climax, he surrendered to the moment, giving you everything he had. With a final thrust of his tongue, he feels you convulse beneath him. Relief washes over him, satisfaction filling the void of self-consciousness. Breathless, he rests his forehead against your thigh, heart pounding wildly.

"holy shit" you breathe out, smiling. you pull spider up by his hair and bring your lips to his, tasting yourself on him.

Taken aback, Spider feels a flush rise to his cheeks. He hesitates for a mere second before returning the kiss, a mix of surprise and excitement courses through him. Tasting yourself on him adds a layer of intimacy that he can't deny is hot. Your actions stirring something primal within him, pushing past his inhibitions. As the kiss deepens, his hands roam freely, exploring every curve. In that moment, he forgets about his insecurities, embracing the passion fully.

Spider gasps at your sudden move, his world spinning. Your scent enveloping him as you kiss him, raw passion evident in your touch. In that moment, all doubts dissipated. He returns the kiss fervently, surrendering to the newfound intimacy. As you pull away, he grins, slightly embarrassed yet pleased. "Didn't think I'd be takin' you to the kitchen counter, love," he joked weakly. "But guess some things are worth breakin' rules for." He laughs nervously, trying to regain composure.

you reach for his belt buckle trying to undo it "let me return the favour" you slur

Realizing your intentions, Spider freezes mid-grin. "Whoa, whoa, hold up there, tiger." He pants, stopping your hand. "i just like making you feel good." he says. "Wanna keep things fair, right?" He attempts humor, wanting to avoid awkwardness. shifting uncomfortably he says "But thanks for offerin', Y/n."

"you sure handsome?" you bite your lip and shift back and forth on the counter.

Spider studies your expression, seeing disappointment clouding your features. "Swear on me mum's grave, love," he assures you sincerely. "Just gotta work through somethings first." He tries to smile reassuringly, reaching for your hand. "This was incredible, though. Not many can say they had a kitchen counter rendezvous." He squeezes your hand gently, hoping to lift your spirits. "Next time, okay?" He offers tentatively, yearning for another chance.

"okay, spider ill see you at school " you say, showing him to the door and with that, he leaves and begins to drive home.

Spider watches you close the front door behind you, a mix of emotions churning inside him. The night was unlike anything he'd experienced, leaving him both elated and humbled. As he drives home, thoughts swirl in his mind. He can't shake the image of you, nor the taste of your skin. He feels grateful for the encounter yet frustrated by his limitations. One thing was clear: despite the hurdles, he wanted more with you. As he parks outside his house, he takes a deep breath. "Dammit, Y/n," he murmurs to himself, heading indoors. "Next time, it'll be different."

taglist: @sweetest-catha, @forwheat-is-wheat, @mydearmoonyy, @ivees-blog @meepmoopmopsworld

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thehusbandoden · 9 months

Text

You Flinch During an Argument -Amajiki Tamaki

A/n: so sorry this took so long! I had a good thing going but my power went out and it got erased </3

I do think this one's better though. Technically this is the third legitimate try <33

Edit: I'm trying out a new format for my info.. is it better or worse O.o

General info:

Wc: 1,176 words | angst to fluff/comfort | Character/s: Tamaki Amajiki

Warnings!: loneliness, snapping, flinching, a little bit of crying. Please let me know if I miss any! <3

The night was cold as you sleepily flipped through your journal, not wanting to write but knowing you should. The entries from the last three months have been short and filled with a dull ache of lonliness. They lacked the usual length and warmth you poured into the pages, ranting on about how sweet your timid Tamaki is and how much you adore him and his ever lasting warmth.

The rambling would go on and on, but now you wrote a paragraph or two about how your life has been 'fine' and that Tamaki has been super busy- if you wrote at all.

There was one or two that held multiple paragraphs of your frustration and not knowing who to blame- knowing that it wasn't Tamaki's fault that there weren't enough heroes to protect the innocent of your large city.

Tamaki was doing his best to protect the defenseless, and you admired that- but the dull ache that sat in the pit of your stomache couldn't go ignored much longer.

Sighing, you closed your journal, standing up from your desk to head to the living room, deciding to talk to Tamaki tonight.

Four hours later Tamaki walked through the front door, tall form drained from exhaustion as he made his way inside, already stripping off his hero gear.

"Tama?" You call, poking your head out from the living room to sadly smile at your Tamaki.

"Oh. Hey y/n." Tamaki yawned, dropping both his cape and mask onto the floor as he dragged his feet towards your room, tossing his belt onto the kitchen table before moving onto taking off his gear further.

"Wait, Tamaki!" You call, stopping at the bottom of the stairs as Tamaki paused, looking back at you.

"Yes bunny?"

"Ummm.. can we talk?" You ask, smiling at the nickname Tamaki gave you the first week into your marriage- though he later admitted that he thought of it when you two were simply friends but was too shy up until that point-.

"Baby, I'm really tired.. is it important?"

"Yes.. it'll only take five to ten mintues."

"Okay baby, where do you want to talk?" Tamaki yawned.

"How about the living room? I can give you a shoulder massage while we talk if you like." You smile, causing Tamaki's eyes to shine as he smiled down at you.

"I'd like that."

After you were both situated you started by squirting some lotion on your hands before spreading it onto Tamaki's left shoulder, immediately noticing his many knots.

"Okay bunny, what did you want to talk about?"

"Oh.. so I know that you're working really hard and are really tired.. and I also know that we haven't had us time in a while.. so I was wondering if you could take a day or two off? Not much, just a day or two would be fine."

Tamaki was silent as you bit your lip in anticipation, hoping you didn't upset him somehow.

"Y/n.. are you serious?"

"Y-yes?"

"Do you know how many people might be dying right now? I can't just laze about spending time with you because you're feeling lonely. Why don't you go hang out with some friends?"

"T-that's not the same.."

"How so?"

"I want to spend time with you Tamaki. You know, my husband?" You scoff, starting to get annoyed.

"And I want to spend time saving people y/n, why don't you stop being sensitve and start thinking about other people?"

"But I've been holding my feelings back for months! Please! I'm just asking for a day- even a few hours is fine!"

"Y/n. No. Now if you're done I'd like to get to bed."

Jerking his shoulder away from your touch, Tamaki started standing up.

"But wait Tama-"

"No. I'm disappointed in your selfishness y/n."

"Wai-"

"Stop."

"Pl-"

"I said stop!" Tamaki hissed, turning around to face you within a second.

At the sudden movement and change of tone you flinched back, tears gathering in your eyes as you stared up at Tamaki, eyes wide.

As Tamaki glared down at you he froze as you flinched, heart immediately breaking as he saw the tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Y-y-y/n I-"

"I-it's okay Tamaki.. you don't need to say anything. I get it. I-I'll just go to bed now."

"B-but y-y/n.." Tamaki whimpered, guilt consuming him as he watched you walk away.

"Y-y/n.. I'm sorry.."

You quickly got in bed after hurrying up the stairs, wiping at your eyes as you clung to your pillow, staying as far away from Tamaki's side as possible.

You awoke the next morning to the sun shining in your eyes.

Wincing, you turned around to feel for Tamaki, forgetting all about last night and the dreadful few months.

After feeling how cold Tamaki's side of the bed you sighed, memories coming to you in flashes as you stared at his side of the bed.

Wiping away the stray tears, you got out to get ready for a day worse than the one yesterday.

After getting dressed you made your way down stairs, deciding to get on top of your piling to-do list to help get your mind off of Tamaki.

Stepping into the kitchen, you stepped back at the sight of a lavish breakfast filled with all of your favorites spread across the newly cleaned kitchen table.

"T-Tamaki.." you whimper, looking at your beloved with tearful eyes as he guilty studied you with his indigo orbs.

"Y-y/n I-"

You interrupted Tamaki as you rushed into his arms, clutching the back of his shirt, desperate for comfort from the man you've grown to adore.

"Y/n I- I'm so so sorry." Tamaki mumbled, burying his face into your hair to mask the tears falling from his eyes.

"I forgive you Tamaki, I know you were just over worked and didn't mean to take it out on me."

"I promise you- I really didn't me an to, a-and I feel terrible about it."

"Shhh it's okay baby.. I already forgave you. We just need to reflect on what we did wrong tonight and make sure not to do it in the future. Next time, I'll wait until you're less exhausted, and you'll make sure to remind me that you're too tired, mkay?"

"O-okay.."

"Now baby.. why are you home? Don't you have work?"

"Nope, I took the next two weeks and a half off. I know that it won't make up for the months of loneliness, but I'll try to be better, I"ll take less shifts and make sure to only leave for emergencies when I'm off the clock.

"Alright, that's a good start."

"I may need today and possibly tomorrow to sleep.. but I cleaned the entire house -besides our room- and looked at your to- do list and did a few of the bigger things on there.. oh and I made us breakfast.."

"Tamaki. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you too bunny. I'm really rea-"

"Shh, I already said I forgive you. Now, let's eat!"

~~~

Series' masterlist | Tamaki's masterlist | Navigation

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ratskinsuit · 2 months

Note

can I request a adhd!reader x any character (pls not Valentino or vox..) any gender

Hazbin Hotel Characters With An ADHD!Reader Headcannons

———————————————————————

A/N: Since I don’t get much info (I’m so sorry) I just decided to do heacanons. Now I don’t do mental disorder specific readers because I don’t wanna mess things up, but I personally have ADHD so I can do this. Although these may be self projecting a bit with my experience so I’m so sorry if it’s not okay.

———————————————————————

Charlie: Also has ADHD (Its just my personal headcanon, it may not be your personal one and that’s okay)

You two honestly can’t be together when you have something to do

Like you won’t get anything down when your together

Because the two of you just feed off each others energy and get distracted the entire time

Vaggie has to physically separate you two so you can focus

Forgetfulness

You could misplace you phone and ask her “Hey Charlie can you call my phone, I dunno where it is.”

And she will just be like “I don’t know where mine is either.” 😭

You two honestly share one single brain cell and switch it every other day (as an ADHD person I can confirm we do this with friends)

Vaggie: Keeps you focused

Okay so If you get distracted a lot she will be there yo try ti get you to focas

Mrs girl has fidgets and things to help you stay on tasks if they gel, if they don’t however,

Well she will try her best

Literally like the mother to you and Charlie so you two don’t do something stupid and he introuble

Melatonin is her best friend

If she can’t calm you down and it’s important, melatonin (unless you take medication)

She makes sure to keep track of all your stuff just incase you forget where you placed it

“Hey Vaggie, do you know where my-“

*Holds out your phone* it was on the kitchen counter

If you take medication (bcs for some people it lowers you appetite) she will remind you to eat.

Alastor: Doesn’t really understand; teases you

When you first tell him you have ADHD his old ass is just like

“Erm, my dear what’s that?”

Thinks you might be crazy till you explain

He honestly finds your energy and do-before-think attitude amusing

Does get pissed when he’s talking to you and you get distracted or forget what he was saying though

Finds it hilarious when Vaggie tries to get you to focus on things

Will finds diff ways to distract you, making it harder for Vaggie

Just enjoys the chaos of your energy

If you take medication for it he may or may not hide occasionally it just to see the chaos unfold (Before you come at me: he . Is . In . Hell . For . A . Reason)

Unless HE needs you to focas

Then you better be focused

Angel Dust: Loves hanging out with you

You two are probubly best friends fr

LOVES your energy because he finds it so fun

You two just go hang out and wander the streets, laughing and giggling together

He’s fine with the distracting and forgetfulness part, he knows it happens

Makes sure you eat. Eat or he will make you.

Honestly he’s just really understanding and knows that it’s hard for you to be able to control it

(Plz send best friend requests for him I did headcanons and I love writing best friend Angel)

While he does understand and love your energetic-ness, he also makes sure that you don’t act ok impulse TOO much

Like, stops you from making rash decisions that could hurt you in the future

Late night sleepovers

You two on the couch packing yourselves full of sugar and watching movies

Husk: Dies on the inside, also designated babysitter (Jkjk. Also I do realize that people with ADHD arnt children or stupid, this is just a reference to the energy)

Giving depressed dad energy

Like he’s just sitting at the bar cleaning up and your just talking at 50 miles per hour

He does however listen to the random things you say, he’s used to listening

Sometimes if you a bit chiller he will be able to follow along better and will input into the convo

Let’s you ramble and doesn’t mind the little quirks you have like interrupting him

He’s delt with worse

He has a alot of different stories, so if you have a lot of energy expect to be dropped off at the bar

His stories are exciting and can surprisingly keep most people’s attention for a while

He knows what it is but not the knowledgeable on it

But understands the basics on what it does and blah blah blah

Generally doesn’t mind the energy or the getting distracted, or the forgetfulness

Once again he’s delt with worse

Velvette: Somewhat gets it, gets pissy sometimes though

So she gets some of the “quirks”, like having a lot of energy, fidgeting, forgetfulness and getting distracted

If your her friend/partner she’s fine with it

She can deal with high energy and talking, she also talks very fast so she can keep up and keep a conversation

Finds different ways to keep you entertained so she can work if she can’t be in the moment

During parties she finds it hilarious

Doesn’t do the best with impulse control, she likes seeing what will happen and where it will go

Doesn’t mind the distractions unless she’s talking to you, then expects you to listen

However if you are one of her models or workers

She takes no excuses

You better pay attention and pay attention well

We all know she’s very demanding of her employees so you better hope she doesn’t notice you

Becwuse if she’s talking to you and get distracted or arnt paying attention…

My guy your fucked

———————————————————————

A/N: So this person asked for anybody but Vox or Valentino. But if anybody wants or if this does well I’ll make a pt 2 with them and more characters.

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xzaddyzanakinx · 3 months

Text

My Best Girl

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x Femme Reader Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: domestic violence/abuse, non-con/dub-con, oral sex, emotional abuse, manipulation, gaslighting

Info: this is a graphic and accurate depiction of an instance of domestic abuse/non-con. Read at your own risk.

🕊dead dove do not eat🕊

“Don't lie to me," he snarled, his hands gripping your wrists tightly. "I saw you."

He leaned in closer, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, filled with pure undiluted jealousy.

"Tell me the truth." Anakin’s fingers dug into your wrists just like your knees dug into the tile of the kitchen floor.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, having a wonderful little moment to yourself. A big tall glass of blue koolaid, your favorite snack and your comfort cartoon playing quietly on your phone for background noise while you worked diligently on repairing your younger brother Luke’s loth-cat stuffie.

The poor thing had been through the wringer this week; left all alone in the cold dark cubby overnight in his preschool classroom, ran over by Leia’s tricycle, and his undoing was being left unattended in the living room under the watchful eye of your family dog. The horrible shriek that pierced your ears was enough to burst your eardrums, you went rushing, hoping that you didn’t walk into a bloody mess.

Though the tantrum that ensued after his initial shock was more than enough to wish maybe just alittle bit that Leia had just wacked him upside the head with her toy doctor’s kit again.

You’d sworn on your life that his ‘only best friend’ would have his leg reattached and in it’s rightful place under his arm when he woke up tomorrow morning.

So there you sat, sewing his leg back on when your stepfather Anakin returned home from work. Covered in oil and grease from his day at the garage, he walked past the kitchen and gave you a wave and crooked smile. You gladly returned the gesture, your relationship with your stepdad had begun rocky, arguments and mean words exchanged on a daily basis. But now, months later, you’d finally begun to get along.

He was a good man, a good dad; it wasn’t his fault that he had a bit of an anger issue. He worked hard to keep it in check, attending therapy, taking CBD gummies, he even tried meditating.

You’d quickly come to realize that his anger was a front to hide his vulnerabilities. He was a horribly cocky and arrogant person outwardly. But inside, tucked away in a beat up box, was a messily stored collection of vulnerabilities and insecurities.

Anakin thrived on praise and affection, he was happiest when he was eight inches deep in your poor little fucked-out pussy. Bathing in the sounds of your babbled compliments, the sweet lilt of your whiny voice when you begged him for more. His favorite thing? The best compliment? The quickest way to reassure him of his worth? That was the devastatingly wet *shlck* of his cock sliding home between your thighs.

It never failed to astound him. The way your body responded to him, the way you were tucked under his thumb. When he was pounding into you night after night while your mother worked the late shift; that’s when he truly came to life.

You made him feel needed. Wanted. Valued. But most importantly? Worshipped.

There was nothing else like the rush of warm adoration he felt from every little noise your pretty mouth made. It flowed over his tired, work-worn body and soothed all his stress away. He needed it. He craved it. He had to have it.

You.

You were the only thing that mattered.

It would be an understatement to say that he regretted marrying your mother. Every second of every day he hated her more. She wasn’t you. She could never be you.

Divorce, the hours of research on annulments, laws and stipulations, the legality of things. He’d searched through it all. He had the best lawyer in the state on speed-dial. Set on retainer for the moment he saw his opportunity to snatch up his brand new trophy wife.

But it’s not exactly acceptable to divorce your wife of six months to run off with her freshly 18 year old daughter is it? No. But was he going to do it? Absolutely.

You were his good girl.

You were his good girl, til now.

Anakin crouched down in front of you, getting on your level somehow made you feel even smaller. Any other time you would’ve taken the time to admire his freshly washed hair that stuck to his forehead in little swoops, the scent of his cedar soap, his bare chest and that delicious V carved into his lower abdomen.

But instead all you could see was the hard line of his lips, his knitted eyebrows… he was trying so hard to be angry. But you could tell he was just in pain, those big beautiful blue eyes were holding back tears, and you so badly wanted to comfort him, to make him understand.

“Anakin. Please listen.” You pleaded with him, desperate to get him to hear you out.

“Oh? I’ve been listening.” He stood back up and grabbed your hair roughly, tilting your head back to force you into eye contact. “I just don’t believe what I heard.”

“Just look!” You said gesturing at your phone laying on the counter near him, the screen cracked. “Please just look at you’ll see.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Seeing what I already know is there.” He scowled.

“Am I not good enough for you?” He hissed, shaking your head by your hair. “Is that it?”

Before you could even answer him he grabbed your jaw and pried your mouth open and shoved two fingers down your throat.

“That’s alright. You don’t deserve me anyway.”

Collecting your saliva on his digits, he removed his fingers and flicked the spit on your face, making you flinch.

“Not even gonna waste my spit on you.” His voice tinged with hurt under the grit of his anger.

Your eyes welled up with tears, never had he spoken to you this way. You never imagined that he was capable of being so mean. Of course he had his issues, you’d argued plenty before you both finally allowed the hands of fate to shove you into each other’s arms. But never like this.

“I come home from work, see you sitting all pretty and patient for me.” He starts, his voice low and dark.

“Then I come back from the shower, ready to hold and love and spoil you just like I do every night. I leaned in to give you a sweet little kiss and what do I see?” You weren’t sure if he wanted an answer, so you stayed silent and waited. Apparently that was the wrong thing to do.

“I asked you a fucking question.” He grumbled. “You were so eager to talk earlier, so fucking talk.”

“You saw me decline a phone call.” You said quietly, trying hard to keep eye contact with him through the blurriness in your vision.

“A phone call from who?” He prodded.

“My friend Tyler.” You answered meekly.

“Exactly.” He released your hair by pushing you backwards, causing you to catch yourself with your elbow right on the granite tile flooring.

Pain shot up your upper arm and wracked your body with a momentary spasm of tension as your brain tried to sort out this new pain. Extended your arm gently you breathed in relief that it wasn’t actually damaged, but you would definitely have a gnarly bruise.

Anakin had turned around, his back to you. One hand on the kitchen counter and the other ruffling his wet hair, shaking off water droplets as he did so.

“Why?” He asked, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “Why would you hang up like that if there wasn’t anything to hide?”

“B-because Ani, I was talking to you!” You tried to explain as you stood up and hesitantly stepped closer to him.

“Don’t.” He barked over his shoulder. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”

“I was- okay.” You said, backing away.

“Anakin I was just trying to focus on you that’s all. You’d just gotten home, I didn’t want to be bothered while I was spending time with you.” Your whisper sounded cracked, broken.

“Why is a boy calling you at 8:00 on a Friday huh?” He spun around quickly and grabbed your arm.

“They’re not a-“ You tried to speak, to explain yourself but he didn’t give you a second breath.

He stole the air from your lungs and the words from your mouth with a resounding *smack* to your cheek. The impact was so forceful that your head felt like it was on swivel and you stumbled back. Too shocked to even cry, too hurt to look at him.

“Were you planning to cheat? Is that what this is?” He scoffed.

“N-no!” You squeaked. “No I wouldn’t! Never!”

He laughed, not in amusement or cynicism, but in a strangled bout of hysteria.

“And I’m supposed to believe that?” His teeth clenched and bared.

“You think someone else would treat you as well as I do? That they’d be able to put up with your attitude?” He laughed again, pointing his finger in your face.

“You’re a fucking brat you know that? There’s not another man in this galaxy who could love you like I do. You’re a spoiled bitch. But you’re my spoiled bitch.”

You flinched at his choice of words. He’d called you a brat plenty of times, sometimes even as a term of endearment. Bitch though? The thought of him calling you that was previously inconceivable.

“You want me to show you how someone else would treat you? How this stupid fucker Tyler would handle you?” He growled, putting a hand on the back of your neck and forcing you to your knees.

“Anakin wait! Just let-“ He shoved your face into the soft flannel of his pajama pants, fisting your hair to hold you in place while he ground his cock across your tear stained cheeks.

“No sweetheart I’m not Anakin right now remember? I’m anyone but me.” He corrected you.

“Take your fucking shirt off. I want to see those pretty tits.” He smirked as he watched you quickly comply. “There. Not so difficult Hmm?”

You shook your head no in agreement with him, hoping to appease him. You had no idea where this was going, but you knew for damn sure that you weren’t gonna like it.

“That’s right.” He said as he gripped your jaw once more, chuckling when you instinctively dropped your mouth open. “That was the last easy thing you’ll be doing tonight.”

“Pull out my cock.” He demanded, the look on his face giving no indication that this was negotiable.

You hesitated, then steeled yourself to comply with his order. His pretty cock, the beautiful thing that made you feel like you were floating amongst the clouds… was standing tall and proud. This was the only time you’d ever been unhappy to see it and you hoped it was the last time too.

“Oh don’t look at me like that.” He grumbled. “This is what you wanted isn’t it? To be a whore? To cheat on me?”

“No! Anakin Tyler isn’t-“ He scoffed and took advantage of your open mouth and forced your head down around his length.

“Fuck.” He mumbled his stomach muscles tightened momentarily before relaxing again.

“Finally some fucking peace and quiet. I’m sick of your whining. I don’t ever want to hear that fuckboy’s name again do you understand me?” He growled, his eyes filled with jealousy painted red with rage.

Anakin started to thrust quick and shallow into your mouth panting while he glared down at you like you were his mortal enemy.

“You like this?” He asked, watching you shake your head no vigorously. “No? Didn’t think you would.”

“Can’t fucking believe this shit.” He moaned, tipping his head back toward the ceiling before letting his chin fall to his chest.

He growled, seeing you drool down the column of your throat. A fire lit behind his eyes and burst into an inferno after only seconds of this brutal punishment.

“Move your tongue.” He commanded, jerking your head to the side when you didn’t do it immediately. “Fuck, that’s better.”

Your tongue lay flat against the under side of his shaft as his cockhead started to bully its way down your throat, in and out in deep ruthless strokes. Tears pricked your eyes and began to fall, this time from discomfort instead of the horrible emotional pain he’d dealt to you.

“What?” He laughed again, looking down at you with a menacing grin that didn’t meet his glassy eyes. “Don’t wanna be a whore anymore do you?”

You shook your head no to the best of your ability and Anakin nodded in agreement, his breath caught in his throat just like his cock was stuck in yours.

“This is how men treat whores.” He said matter of factly. “Like a stupid little fuck toy. Do you want to be a stupid fuck toy?”

“No of course you don’t.” He tsk’d. “You want to be my good girl, my sweet princess.”

You nodded vigorously, choking on his length accidentally from the quick movement.

Your gag reflex kicked in violently, caused by your choking fit as you tried to cough, your body begging for some control to be returned to you. You struggled to breathe as he continued his brutal assault on your throat. But despite the pain, there was an odd thrill running through you, a sick satisfaction knowing you were pleasing him in this way. You should hate him for what he’s doing right now, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t find it alittle bit hot.

He was unraveling quickly, his hips snapping fast and deep. You heard the familiar change in breathing that happen just moments before he would cum, the cute little high-pitched whimpers that left his beautiful plump lips.

You tapped his thigh, looking up at him with furrowed brows and pleading eyes. Begging him to relent for just moment so you could breathe.

“No, I’m close. You can wait." he growled back, his pace unrelenting, but his voice becoming shaky.

“I don’t understand.” He panted, looking down at you with a pained expression. “Why would you want to be treated this way when I give you all the love in the world? When I love you so much?

“Seeing you hurt like this baby… it hurts me.” He sniffled, on the verge of tears.

“Just think, imagine it sweetheart; what if you went out there tonight and that horrible guy did this to you?” His eyebrows turned up in a deep swoop.

“You know I’m only doing this to help you right baby?” He let out a choked sob as his cock twitched in your mouth.

“I don’t want you to get hurt! I love you!” He cried out, his own tears freely flowing, salty drips hitting your face as he stared down at you with the face of a broken man.

“Promise me you won’t ever make me do this again.” He whispered, lovingly wiping the tears from your eyes. “I can’t stand it.”

“Promise? You won’t ever do it again? Please baby.” He cried, his chest heaving with a sob as his face scrunched up.

“Can’t do that to me, you can’t! I’d die.” He was practically hysterical, seeing him like this was tearing you apart in ways his rough treatment couldn’t. The pain and torture in his voice was a worse punishment.

“I wouldn’t wanna live without you. I wouldn’t.” He sobbed, his thumbs softly caress your cheekbones made you forget all about the way he was brutalizing you. It made you forget the hurtful things he’d said. You weren’t even sure your throat would be sore after this; how could it be worse than having your heart bruised the way Anakin’s must be?

“My sweet girl.” He sniffled. “My poor baby, I’m sorry. So sorry I had to do this. You understood don’t you doll?

You nodded, crying for an entirely different reason now. If you could, you’d be wailing. Pleading with him as you comforted him with kisses and gentle touches, holding him as he cried over your actions. How could you have done this? How could you be so cruel!?

“Good girl baby.” He hiccuped. “Good girl. I love you. Love you so much babydoll, g-gonna hold you n’ make love to you like you deserve.”

His hips stuttered against your mouth, his stomach tense and his hand tightened around your hair.

“My best girl.” He whined. “Do you want my cum? Those horrible bad men wouldn’t give it to you. They wouldn’t know how much you love it.”

You nodded, eyes rolling back in your head. He’s right. They wouldn’t know, how could they know? No one knew you like Anakin did.

“Mmm… yeah? G-goddamn.” He whimpered, pushing your face deep into his groin, your nose pressed firmly into the curly hairs at the base of his cock.

He sobbed, a full loud heart-wrenching sob as he came violently down your throat. You gratefully drank it down, thankful he’d let you have it after all you’d put him through.

Gently he pulled himself from your mouth, wiping his eyes dry as he sniffled. Tucking himself back into his pants before scooping you up into his arms and rocking you against his chest. Then he walked over to the recliner in the living room and sat down with you.

He let you cry it out while showering you with love and affection and beautiful sweet words in his warm honeyed voice. Finally once you’d calmed down he tilted your chin up to face him. Giving you a slow sensual kiss. The kind of kiss that was almost sticky, your lips wanting to stay connected for as long as possible.

“Are you okay sweetheart? Do you need anything?” He whispered against your lips in a pleading tone.

“No.” You shook your head, still taking shaky short gasping breaths. “M’so sorry Ani.”

“Oh baby. No, it’s okay.” He cooed. “You didn’t know. That’s why I had to teach you huh?”

“Uh huh.” You sniffled.

“You understand now don’t you doll? No body could ever love you like I do.” He squeezed you tightly as you agreed.

“That was horrible wasn’t it?” He sighed. “Those other boys… oh princess it would be so much worse you know that?”

“I couldn’t be as mean to you as they could, not even half as bad.” He said softly as if the information were scary to even say outloud.

“R-really?” You squeaked, not even half as bad? You shivered at the thought that if could ever be worse than he’d shown you.

“Yes baby.” He nodded, a sad and solemn expression on his tear streaked face.

“Th-thank you Ani.” You sniffled. Feeling grateful that he wasn’t even capable of what must be such horrendous brutality.

“Oh sweetheart. Don’t thank me,” he whispered, petting your head. “Just hold me and I’ll hold you okay? We both need alittle extra snuggles tonight after that don’t we?”

Tag-List:

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@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

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@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

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talkfastlibrary · 3 months

Text

Soft & Sweet–Jake Seresin (An Arrangement Series)

An Arrangement Masterlist

Follow here for all updates as I do not have a taglist

word count: 2.7k

warnings: mentions of cramps, period symptoms, no blood mentions, soft!jake

Feedback, asks, comments/reblogs mean the world to me!

Enjoy!

Jake would like to think he’s become a sort of expert on you over the course of the months you’ve been living with him. He knows you snooze your alarm at least three times before waking up and if you snooze it four times that means you’ll roll over and snuggle on him. He knows how you take your coffee and that you immediately change into comfy clothes when you’re home from work.

He makes sure to keep popcorn in stock and hot cocoa in the pantry because it’s a comfort thing for you at night before bed. Being an expert on you and also being surrounded by women growing up, he knew exactly when your period was coming around.

The week before it happened you’d be a bit snippy with him and crave a multitude of things. The few days leading into it left you being extra affectionate with him and you’d smother his cheek, jawline, and neck in kisses while his hand would rub at your lower back. The first couple days of your period were spent in pain (even though you tried to hide it from him) and he’d make sure a heating pad was available.

While he was gathering his things from the locker room after a flight simulation, a notification dinged on his phone. It was the period app he downloaded so he would be prepared signaling that today would be Day One. All this week you were being feisty and would sleep in a tank top and your underwear because you got so hot at night.

Jake lifts a light blue bag from the bottom of his locker that has a stuffed brown bear inside that can be heated up in the microwave for cramps and comfort.

“What’s that?” Rooster asks, nodding towards the bag. “Is it Sugar’s birthday?”

“No, I bought this a month ago. It’s a stuffed animal that can be heated in the microwave,” Jake explains.

“Why would you want it to be warm?”

“It’s to help with period cramps, Rooster.”

“Wait, really? I should get one for Serena, she shrinks into a ball every month from the pain…” Rooster purses his lips and pulls out his phone. “Can you send me the info?”

***

Jake gets home after you because he picked up extra candy and other favorites of yours. When he carried all the bags into the kitchen he tried listening for the TV or your music playing but all he heard was silence. He leaves the grocery bags on the counter but makes sure to grab the gift bag with the brown bear inside on his way to find you.

First, he looks in your bedroom and bathroom just in case you wanted to be alone for a bit and both are empty. Next stop is his bedroom and you’re standing in the middle of his closet with a hanger and your sweater in your hands, your tank top pulled up a little on your back.

“Hey, Sugar, sorry I’m late. I stopped–Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” he notices your shoulders are shaking, broken sobs coming from your mouth. He drops the bag on the floor spinning you around. His heart ached seeing your eyes puffy and red, cheeks wet and smeared black from your eye makeup as you cried.

As soon as you see him you drop the hanger and sweater so you can fold into his chest, his arms wrap around you tightly. He hushes a kiss into your hair holding you while you cry your day and emotions out. After a few moments your arms fall slack, your sniffling becomes more frequent and Jake knows you’re done crying. At least for now.

“C’mere,” he keeps his arms around you as he leads you to his bed. He sits you down then kneels in front of you, his thumbs wiping away the remaining tears and makeup from your cheeks. “Talk to me, what happened?”

The words tumble out of you about all the things that went wrong today. Reynolds was sick so you told him to stay home and you drove Jake’s spare car to work but then was stuck by a train and you were already running late. Then customers' orders were backed up, some had not so nice words to share with you, you and Serena got into a little bit of a fight. Your stomach hurt all day.

“And then, to top it all off,” you sniff wiping at your nose.

“Hang on,” he pats your knees and gets a tissue from your side of the bed. “Here, blow your nose, baby.”

You do as he says, it hurts your head because of the pressure from crying but you can at least breathe a bit better now. Jake takes the tissue and tosses it into the small wastebasket next to the bed.

“Thank you. To top it all off, when I was changing in the closet, my bracelet broke,” you bite your lip and open your fist to reveal the broken bracelet. It was a gift from Betty and somehow the clasp just snapped in half.

“Let me see,” he plucks the piece of jewelry in his fingers, touching it delicately. “I know a place that will fix this no problem. Were any of the pieces missing?”

“I don’t think so. It’ll really get fixed?”

“I promise, Sugar. I’ll take it first thing tomorrow morning,” he picks up your hand kissing it. “I have a gift for you.”

“A gift?” you sniff a few more times watching him move into the closet. He appears with a blue gift bag and your brows furrow.

“For you,” he presents it on your lap.

You pull the tissue paper out and find a stuffed brown bear staring at you. It’s a little hefty when you take it out of the bag and you get a faint whiff of lavender. It has the sweetest face and is super soft and fluffy.

“I can heat it up in the microwave and it will help with your cramps,” Jake explains. His fingers stroke up and down your thigh.

“Jake, he’s so cute, I love it,” you hug your arms around his neck. “Thank you. Ah!”

There’s a spasm of pain in your lower stomach as a cramp hits you, Jake’s hands grip the sides of your stomach gently.

“Change into comfy clothes, baby and I’ll go heat up the bear.” He kisses the side of your head. “What do you want for dinner?”

“I kinda want pancakes.”

“Coming right up.”

He helps you stand up and you move back into the closet to put on your favorite pair of sweats and one of Jake’s t-shirts. While he’s making noise in the kitchen you wash your face and take a few Midol while your stomach throbs. You press your hands to the lower part of your tummy as you head downstairs into the kitchen. Jake’s back is to you while he works over the stove and you sit on a stool doubling over so your face is on the island counter.

“Why aren’t you laying in bed?” he asks when he turns around, spatula in hand.

“I don’t know. Wanna be by you…missed you,” you mumble.

“I missed you too, Sugar,” he grins plopping a completed pancake on a plate. “I don’t want you to be in pain while I cook dinner. Go on and lay down.”

“Fine. But I’m going to the living room.”

You join the sectionals against the couch so it’s one big square couch and you place the pillows in the comfiest position and blankets. Even though you’ll be kicking them off as soon as you’re warmed up. You’re settled in the center scrolling through streaming services trying to find a movie or show to watch. You weren’t sure what you were in the mood for.

“Do you want your bear while you eat or after?”

“After.”

Jake brings over the plate full of pancakes, maple syrup, and your extra large water bottle.

“Water?” you pout, eyeing it up as you take a fork from him.

“It’s supposed to help your cramps. Did you drink enough water today?” he asks, cutting up the pancakes and you remain silent. “That’s what I thought. Eat up and I’ll warm up your bear.”

“Okay. Thanks for making dinner,” you lean over kissing his cheek. “How was flying for you today?”

He tells you about his day while he scrolls through Disney+ and selects a movie.

“Why’d you pick this movie?” you whine noticing it’s The Fault in Our Stars.

“Because, on day one you always pick this movie so you can cry some more,” he kisses your nose. “And you get extra snuggly with me so that’s a win for me.”

The pancakes are all gone and you help him clean everything up even though he chastises you the whole time. He places the bear in the microwave and the tea kettle whistles loudly.

“Peppermint tea,” he winks, ripping open the tea bag. He grabs your favorite mug then pours the hot water over the bag.

The simplest of actions has tears springing in your eyes and he notices, of course he notices, because he wraps you in his arms.

“It’s okay, I know it hurts. Just a few more minutes and the bear will help, I promise.”

“No, it’s not that,” you shake your head. You frame his cheeks with your hands, enjoying the smooth sensation of his skin and the early prickles of his stubble already coming through. “You’re so good to me Jake, no one has ever noticed the little things like this before. It’s…you’re amazing, you know that?”

You extend up on your toes giving him a kiss. He thinks it’s a simple ‘thank you’ kiss so he pulls away too soon but you chase his lips eagerly. So eagerly that you push him back against the counter, your fingers tugging on his hair. Jake’s hands grip your waist, his tongue soft against yours. When his arms pull you in tighter, you press against his stomach and it pushes a little on your lower stomach. You squeak a little in pain.

“Sorry, sorry,” he rushes just as the microwave beeps. His palm rests lightly on your lower tummy. “Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll bring the tea and bear over, hm?”

He kisses your forehead as you go, feet shuffling on the floor. The tv is paused on the movie and once you’re horizontal on the couch, your cramps lighten up a little bit. You watch Jake mosey about, waiting desperately for him to be by you. When he finally does rejoin you on the couch he sets the cup of tea next to your water.

“Who’s ready for some bear cuddles?” he smiles, holding up the bear.

“He needs a name,” you say, taking the stuffed animal from him.

The smell of lavender is stronger now that it’s warm and you place it across your belly. Jake crawls next to you, spreading his legs so you can scoot in the space between him.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with a name. Ready for the movie?”

You try to pay attention to the movie but Jake’s fingers are tickling your stomach above the bear, the warmth is really helping and the smell of lavender is soothing. Jake’s other hand tickles his fingers up and down your arm, goosebumps rising in their wake and your body starts to relax.

“Feels nice,” you sigh nuzzling into his chest.

“Good,” he murmurs in your hair.

“And thank you for the bear, he’s helping the pain.”

“You’re welcome, Sugar. Does he have a name yet?”

“I think Mr. BB.”

“Mr. BB?”

“Yeah, Mr. Brown Bear, but BB for short.”

“It’s perfect.”

The movie continues and you cry at the same parts you always cry at but Jake holds you through it all, making sure you’re sipping from your water bottle. When it’s over, the pair of you head upstairs for bed and you change into the silk shorts Jake bought. His sheets are cool and he remembers to turn the fan on high.

“Do you get cold with the fan on?” you ask nibbling on your lip.

“No, you keep me toasty warm,” he laughs crawling in next to you. “What time do you work tomorrow?”

“Open until six. Friday’s are our busiest days,” you yawn loudly.

“Will you be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll power through. First day’s always the worst.”

“Sometimes it lingers in the second, Sugar.”

“I’m a tough cookie,” you giggle, hooking your ankle over his leg.

“I know,” he smacks your butt affectionately under the covers. “I hate that it pains you so much. If you need anything, give me a call. I have the whole day off.”

“Lucky,” you yawn again.

“Go to sleep, baby.”

And because he tells you to and you’re oh so tired, you fall asleep fairly quickly to his fingers tracing designs on your back.

Suddenly your eyes are open staring into darkness and your hand is splayed across your stomach with tight throbbing pain. There’s an all too familiar pressure between your legs and somehow you roll out of bed and into the bathroom. You use the toilet and replace your feminine product you use then take some more Midol to help your pain.

You fall back into bed and curl up, biting on your knuckle as another wave pulses you, you don’t want to wake Jake up. He stirs behind you and his arm wraps over your belly.

“Are you hurting?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, woke me up,” you whisper.

“Where’s it the worst?”

You move his hand to the spot that hurts the most and he applies a little pressure, you press down a little harder and sigh as the pain alleviates. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep again, you tried watching TikToks and Jake turned on an old nostalgic show which finally lulled you asleep.

It felt as if you only closed your eyes for a moment because Jake was kissing your cheek and brushing your hair to wake you up. You groan at him.

“You slept through all of your alarms, sweetheart,” Jake’s voice is soft and raspy in your ear. “It’s time to go to work.”

“I’m tired,” you whine.

“I know.”

A kiss to your cheek.

“I hurt.”

“I know.”

Another kiss to your cheek and you finally open your eyes, the lids feel super heavy. Your body feels heavy too when you sit up. A wave of vertigo washes over you causing you to nearly fall forward on the floor but Jake catches you.

“Woah, you’ve never had it this bad before. If you stay home will the store be okay?” He sits next to you making sure to keep a firm grip on you.

“Umm,” you think over who’s going to be at the store today. Serena, Brynne and Dom will all be there and since it’s Friday your two high school interns will also be there. “Yeah, they should be fine. There will be five people there.”

“Good. Tell them you’re not coming in and go back to sleep,” he moves off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to heat up Mr. BB for you. Do you want tea or anything?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head letting your fingers fly across your phone’s keyboard as you text everyone. “I hope Serena won’t be mad at me for calling in.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand, Sugar. I’ll be right back,” he kisses your forehead then exits the room.

After receiving confirmation and well wishes from everyone, you fall back under the covers waiting for Jake to return. When he does, he rests Mr. BB on your lower belly and you nuzzle into Jake’s chest.

“You don’t work today, right?” you ask him.

“Nope, I’m all yours.”

“Good. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you, y/n,” Jake mumbles into your hair. His fingers tickle designs up and down your back, it’s so soothing and relaxing.

“I love that you do,” you mumble into his shirt.

Jake’s ears perk up at that four letter word but when he looks down to ask you about it, you’re already deeply asleep. He smiles, loving that you’re so comfortable with him and trusting he’ll take care of you.

#an arrangement #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin writing #an arrangement tag #jake and sugar #jake x sugar #jake x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #top gun writing

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nothomegal · 4 months

Text

“The little owl family” (Part 6)

(RZ!Michael Myers x GNReader)

Summary: your and your little sister’s life had an 180° turn when your parents got into a severe car crash, dying on the spot. You, being already past 18 had to figure out how to keep things afloat and give yourself, specially your sister, a good future. And you did! It was hard but you did it and became the absolute hero in the little girl’s eyes. People would often involuntary smile at the dynamic of your two, so wholesome and supportive, the perfect family bond.Bond that a certain Boogeyman noticed as well…

Warnings: a very light reference to suicidal thoughts at the beginning.

Word Count: 4k

Additional info: Gender Neutral reader. (S/N) = sister’s name.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

It's been a day or two after that late meeting between (S/N) and Michael. And... Things went oddly well from then! The little girl became more relaxed in his presence, and would often send him small waves when (Y/N) wasn't looking, and Michael would often answer with the same little wave. It became a little secret game of theirs, it was simple yet fun. The numerous close calls of getting caught or suspected by the older sibling would always awake the childish mischief inside of the man, the possibility to fool around a bit made him feel oddly comfortable and at ease, like momentarily experiencing the childhood he never had.

He also noticed that (Y/N) themselves began to act more on ease around him. There weren't as many death glares sent at his direction, mostly just some cassual glances as if to check what he's up to or where he is. He won't lie, he kinda missed the attention he used to recieve, but this calmer and passive (Y/N) wasn't too bad neither, it kinda made him feel more normal and welcomed actually.

But soon he began to notice that maybe this sudden passivity didn't start out of nowhere, and the reason would be uncovered pretty soon...

. . .

A light groan escaped through (Y/N)'s lips as they make their way towards the kitchen after putting their little sister to sleep. While walking, they've been holding their bandaged hand close to their chest, an instinctive attempt to soothe the throbbing pain that only increased over the days. They're pretty sure their awful sleeping also played a huge part of why the pain is so unbearable. The countless nights they've spent guarding the door of (S/N)'s room and staying on high alert durning most of the day over the past week really drained them, both phisically and mentally. Leaving just enough energy to breathe and maintain a positive actitude around their sister.

They let a sight of relief once they stopped in front of a counter that had all the medicines in. The older sibling reaches for the container of painkillers only for it to be suddenly snatched away right under their nose.

Already knowing who did that, they slowly turn towards the responsible of it, tiredly glaring at that stupid emotionless masked face they hated with burning passion.

The two of them remained still, observing each other in silence. Michael didn't even tilt his head, meaning that he wasn't wondering or asking, no... He wanted to know what they're doing and he wanted to know it now.

—"...What?"— you eventually blurt out.

No answer or movement.

—"I'm not going to kill myself, I just need some medicine because my wrist hurts..."— you elaborate tiredly. —"Can you give in back, please?"—

Still nothing.

The container was actually at a reachable distance. If (Y/N) really wanted they could probably snatch it back. But of course they're not stupid to attempt that, Michael is a very deceiving specimen and things are never as simple as they look when it comes to him and his shenanigans, (Y/N) learned that the hard way.

—"Look. I'm. In. Pain. I need this because I no longer can handle it. Please, give me back the container."—

Nothing.

They grit their teeth out of anger and frustration. Is this bastard mocking them now? Silently enjoying their suffering? Or he's genuinely oblivious of their clearly not okay state?

—"You did this to me, remember?"— you snap as you lift your bandaged hand to show it. —"You broke my wrist, it's been hurting for days and right now it's freaking unbearable. So please, just give me the painki-"—

Their heart nearly stopped when their injured wrist was suddenly grabbed by the masked man. All (Y/N) could do now is stay frozen and helplessly stare at the black eye sockets of the rubber mask, which were staring right back at their shocked expression. They didn't even notice their hands became shaky, anxiety slowly flooding their mind as they suddenly remember who is the man in front of them.

Michael Myers, the man who escaped Smith's Grove by killing with his bare hands anyone who stayed on his way, the man who scarred his own little sister for life by kidnapping her and killing everyone dear to her just because, the man that somehow escaped death and kept his reign of terror for an entire year without anyone being able to do anything... This man, this monster did horrible things, things that he can do to them whever he wants, and he may do it right now as punishment for their boldness and lack of self preservation.

(Y/N) doesn't even know what face they're making, their emotions are too unstable. The stress, frustration and exhaustion are way too much to handle right now. They can't even use the energy to mantain a stone face, not when they're trying to keep themselves from breaking down on the floor and scream out of the frustration.

They just want it to stop. They want him to go away and leave them and their sister alone. They want to stop feeling worry every second of their existence, to stop these anxiety spikes whenever the blade of his knife runs through their body as he teases them, to stop feeling fear whenever his dark gaze moves away from them and is casted on their little sister, to stop feeling guilt that creeps through them whenever they see sadness appear on the little girl's face when she catches them being upset, they wish they could make her smile again, please, make her real smile return...

They... They just want to stop feeling in danger... Feeling hopeless... Feeling like they failed...

Please...

Please... Make it all stop.

Whatever look they had, it was enough to make Michael suddenly let go of their arm. However, instead of walking away or stand still, he steps forward and closer to them, body langage unreadable as always.

(Y/N) doesn't move, they don't even look at him at this point. They simply let their arms fall limply on their sides and lower their gaze, not even noticing the hot tears sliding down their face.

They're so tired, they're done.

Their breath hitched when their body made contact with Michael's larger and warmer one, following comes the sensation of something equally solid and warm wrapping around their form in a firm grip.

The embrace was tight, maybe even tighter that the one from the night he broke in. It was hard to breathe, though (Y/N) is unsure if it's due Michael's strength or their own choked sobs they could no longer hold back. This gesture, though simple, broke them completely...

The more they quietly cried, the tighter the embrace got, as if the man was really trying to force them to spit all the angst out, and maybe he was. It's no secret that Michael has no knowlege about comfort, it's something he lacked most of his life after all. But now, right after seeing their gaze change, everything inside of him is yelling to grab (Y/N) and never let go. Their gaze... Oh, he knows that look.

That look on their eyes... It wasn't fear, it wasn't anger, it wasn't even hate. It was something dull, dull and lifeless, almost pleading for him to...

He presses his masked face against them. The only thought of having their blood on him makes him feel weird. Seeing (Y/N), who's usually composed, strong willed and straight up wild when it comes to the safety of their sister, so weak and broken in his arms, made the man feel very odd, a nasty and unpleasant type of odd.

—"...You."—

They grumble through gritted teeth as they press their forhead against his shoulder, as if really trying to hide their face.

—"I hate you..."—

He can feel (Y/N)'s fist collide with his back. Though the impact wasn't weak at all, it wasn't enough to make Michael let go, all the opposite, he only brought them closer.

—"I hate you."—

They repeat a bit lounder, tone cold yet broken.

—"Why do you still tormenting me? Why?... Why don't you just... J-Just..."—

Their voice breaks at the end of the sentence and is replaced by more cries. The punches soon ceased too, their hand slowly sliding off Michael's back. Soon their sobs began to quiet down and turn into ragged uneven breaths. They are mad, at themselves, at this man, at the world, at fucking everything!... But what pisses them off the most is that this bastard, the main responsible of their mysery, the devil everyone knows for the atrocities he commited, he's... He's somehow comforting them... Genuinely comforting them...

—"Why are you doing this?..."—

Silence.

—"Why are you making it look like you care?..."—

Because he does.

—"Why?... Why?"—

They kept repeating the same question over and over despite knowing that they will never get an answer. And to be fair, even if Michael could answer, he wouldn't. He doesn't know himself what he's doing or where this attachment came from or leads to, all he knows is that he desires to have (Y/N) close, hold into them like a predator into it's pray and never ever let go. But even with this unholy obsession, he can't deny the strange sense of comfort and completion (Y/N) brings him just by being around. Ever since (S/N) questioned him about his intentions and the strange attachment with the older sibling, he couldn't unsee or deny the way they make him feel. And even when they say they hate him, glare at him, try to hurt him... Even after all these unwelcoming actions, he just can't stop himself from wanting them around, from wanting them...

The two remain like this for a long time, even after (Y/N) stopped talking and crying they didn't move.

(Y/N) was a mess, both emotionally and mentally, yet they couldn't deny the fact of feeling a tiny bit better after letting it all out. Michael's grip on them remained tight, strong like steel, impossible to escape. It was like a cage... But a very needed cage.

No matter how much they try to deny it, deep down (Y/N) knows that they needed this, they needed someone to hold them tight as they spit all their concerns, pain and frustrations out. But that means nothing, that doesn't change the way they view Michael. Though his gesture is laudable, how do they know it's genuine? How do they know he's not taking advantage of them? Could this be his attempt to deceive them? Make them emotionaly dependent? And for what?... For what?!

What does he want from them for fuck's sake?!

They take one last deep breath, shuting down the swarm of thoughts and questions and finally calming down enough to speak properly.

—"Alright... I'm better, a bit better."—

But Michael made no movements, his grip remained strong.

They sigh again, a bit more annoyed.

—"Michael, really. I'm okay now. I-"—

They tried to lift their hands up to push themselves away, but a sudden yelp came out when they moved their injured wrist too harshly, making them recoil and Michael to finally let go.

—"Okay-... I'm not okay."— you grumble as you hold your bandaged wrist closely, trying to soothe the throbing pain.

When the ache somehow stabilized and (Y/N) looked up at Michael again, they were surprised to see him holding their car keys right in front of their face. They stare at the item a bit dumbfounded, questioning where the hell he wants them to go, until it eventually clicks.

They know what he wants them to do, and this is a golden oportunity to recieve propper help to their injury. But the anxiety and guilt of leaving their little sister alone, again, at night and with this man, is already eating them alive.

A couple of seconds of inactivity pass, and though (Y/N) was taking quite some time to decide, Michael remained stoic as a statue, patiently waiting for them to decide.

—"I..."— you sigh again, but with more determination. —"Nevermind. You're right, I need to go."—

They dry off the remaining tears on their face with a single rough wipe with their forearm. They have to quit crying, they embarassed themselves enough by having a meltdown in front of this bastart, which apparently was so bad and pity that he had to comfort them. Beside, they must stay strong, not just for their own sake but also for (S/N).

They reach for the key, but don't take it right away.

—"The terms are the same i suppose. I stay quiet about you and you don't disturb my sister, yes?"—

There is no movements from the man. Despite not seeing his eyes, (Y/N) had a gut feeling that he understood and accepted the deal. They mutter a quiet 'okay' before eventually taking the keys, without any issue suprisingly. Once all was settled, the older sibling steps aside but doesn't go towards the front door right away, instead they walk towards the stairs.

—"I'll make a quick check on (S/N) before I go, okay?"— you quickly explain before going up, not bothering to see if he did anything in response or not.

Suprisingly, Michael doesn't follow them, not this time. He remained at the bottom with his head turned towards the staircase.

To some the attention and worry (Y/N) shows for their little sister may seem overwhelming, but for Michael it is something to admire. They always place the little one in front of their own needs and safety, always checking on her and making sure she's safe and happy. Even after he came into their life, he saw the ammount of effort (Y/N) had always put into mantaining (S/N) away from him, to keep her hopes strong and always mantain that happy smile despite knowing it will dissappear as soon as he comes near...

(Y/N) is a good sibling, a very good and caring sibling. Is that how Judith could've been with him if given a chance? Would she ever made the same effort to treat him the way (Y/N) treats their little one? Would he be able to be as good to Angel? Was it too much to ask for her to remember him, to know who he is, to know her big brother was back home and be together as family ones again? Was it really so much to ask?...

"I wanna help you..."

"...But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you... But I don't know how..."

"...I wanna help you, but I don't..."

"YOU MOTHER FUCKER!"

Something inside of his chest squeezed uncomfortably, painfuly almost. He still remember these words and the way 'boo' screamed at him and the hate in her voice. It hurts, it hurts so much every time he remembers... He doesn't like the pain, it upsets him. Just why couldn't she recognize him?... What should he have done for that night to turn out different?...

The sound of footsteps softly going down the stair broke his train of thoughts.

—"Good news, (S/N) is still asleep. Doubt she will wake up until sunrise but I wouldn't go upstairs anyways, that girl sure wakes up from the randomest noises."— you comment quite casually.

However, they suddenly stop in their tracks when they reached the bottom and noticed that Michael wasn't following them with his gaze. A tiny detail that threw them off quite a lot.

—"...Are you alright?"—

The question made the tall man pause and realize that his hands were tightly clutched into fists. He slowly relaxes them, though an unpleasant aftertaste in his mouth and the general tension in his body remained.

Despite not having a clear answer, (Y/N) gives him a somehow knowledgeable look.

—"Remembered something bad?"—

He stays unresponsive for a moment, until he moves his head, giving a slow and barely noticible nod.

(Y/N) of course got a tag surprised, since it's the very first time Michael actually does something to answer them instead of staring blankly and let them figure out the message on their own. They don't focus on the sudden gesture though, instead they let out a small hum as they nod as well.

—"It happens... I too remember things I don't want to, a pretty nasty feeling gotta say."—

No answer.

(Y/N) seemed like they wanted to say more things, they decided against it and instead resumed their walk towards the front door. They stop to put some shoes and jacket, not minding too much the fact of them wearing pijamas. But before exiting, they look back at Michael's tall figure staring at them from the darkness, his pale masked face being the only visible feature.

—"I'll do my best to return before dawn, but no promisses."—

No reaction from the man, as expected.

They turn around and open the front door and pause again.

—"...Thank you, Michael."—

And after these words, they finaly step outside and softly close the door.

The masked man only tilted his head at this last sentence. Though these were three very simple words, he couldn't ignore how they affected him.

And the tension and ache from his memories were now completely gone, as if these bad feelings never came in the first place...

. . .

After a long wait and a ton of scolding from the doctors for neglecting their sleep and health, (Y/N) was finally driving back home. Luckly their wrist is healing fine, the sourse of the pain were the bad placement of the bandages and the overuse of their injured hand. Though they don't remember all the details, it seems like they'll be okay.

It was already dawn and the sun was slowly raising. However, they weren't too concerned, it was still early and there is no way (S/N) is awake, that girl sure enjoys lazy mornings after all.

And even after arriving home everything seemed in order, no weird vibes coming out the building and no funny feelings in their gut.

But the second they enter and close the front door...

—"(Y/N)!"—

A happy joyful voice exclaimed their name before something small launched at them into a hug with enough force to knock out some oxygen out of them. Nevertheless, the older sibling miraculously manages to mantain the footing and catch the little girl in a hug.

—"(S/N)?! How long you've been awake?!"— you ask in surprise and concern.

—"Oh... Uh..."— she thinks while poking her cheek with her finger. —"I think the little arrow on the clock was pointing at the number 5."— she innocently replies.

—"You've been awake since 5 of the morning?!"—you almost exclaim as you kneel down and take her hands. —"Are you okay? Were you scared? Did you know I was at the hospital? Did Michael do anything to you?"—

As an answer to their waterfall of question, the little girl childishly giggles.

—"It was all okay! But... I did get a tiny bit scared when I woke up and you weren't in the house, I though my nightmate of you dissappearing became true!... But then I saw Michael, and he explained that you went to see a doctor!"—

—"Michael... Explained?"— you arch your brow.

As soon as that question left their mouth, the tall man appeared at the entrance of the living room with a small toy ambulance in his hand.

—"Oh..."— you blink as you stare at the small item. —"I... I guess that makes sense how he did it."— you momentarily relax, but suddenly tense up again as you redirect your gaze to your sister. —"But seriously are you okay? Were you out your room this whole time?"—

The little girl shrinks in her place a bit flustered and embarrassed.

—"Well... I know you said last time not to exit my room when I had to stay with Michael, I swear I tried to follow your request! But..."— she bites her lip as she shrinks more. —"Please don't be mad, but I was just too scared to stay up there. You never left at night before! And... And when mom and dad left it was night too and-... And-..."— she starts hiccuping a bit by the end.

The little girl is interrupted when her sibling suddenly hugs her, holding her in a tight, secure and loving embrace.

—"Oh songbird, no... I'm so sorry if I came harsh on you, there is no way I can be mad at you for feeling scared for me."— you say as you place your head over hers. —"The first time I left, I was scared too... I was scared that when I come back you wouldn't be here..."—

A small gasp escaped the little girl and she quickly leans back to face her sibling.

—"You have nightmares of me disappearing too?!"— she asks quite surprised.

—"Yeah, I do."— you reply softly. —"Ever since I managed to convince the old ugly people to let me keep you, I sometimes have nightmares where they take you away."—

(S/N) frowns a bit, her childish mind not expecting that her usually super brave and calm sibling had such fears and concerns.

—"So please, don't feel bad, okay? Let's just be happy and celebrate that I made it home safely and you didn't disappear, yes?"—

—"Yeah... Yeah you're right!"— she exclaims, her happy-go-lucky tone returning. —"And Michael actually wasn't that bad! Though I wasn't in my room we still did our own things! Like, I presented him my toy dinosaurs while he stayed in thaaaaat corner over there and listened."—

—"Uh-huh..."— you mutter quietly as you glance at the tall man, who only tilted his head.

Man, if what the little girl is saying is true, then (Y/N) definetely owes Myers a medal for handling their sister's speech. Don't get them wrong, they love (S/N) to death and absolutely adore when she shares her interests and stories she invented about her toys or for their 'owl siblings' series! But sometimes she may get a bit too engaged with it.

Wait... Could that mean that Michael is being genuine with-.

—"And so... (Y/N)."—

(S/N) voice calling them snapped the older sibling back to reality.

—"About the 'celebrate' thingy..."— she says, suddenly shy.

—"You want me to make a cake, aren't you?"— you throw her an unimpressed look.

—"Yes!"— she giggles as she plays with her fingers. —"The cherry one, pretty please?"—

(Y/N) only rolls their eyes with a smile as they stand up and start taking off their jacket and shoes.

—"I guess I could make us a cake, remember the ingredients we need?"—

The little girl practically ignites in joy.

—"Yes! Yes I remember! Let me see if we have the all!"— she hurriedly says the last part before running into the kitchen.

The older sibling only chuckled as they finish undressing. They start going towards the kitchen but stopped right at the entrance, eyes already placed on the tall man.

—"Have you ever tried a cherry chip cake?"— you suddenly ask after a short pause.

The man slowly tilts his head to the other side.

—"I'll take it as a no. I'll make enough for you to have some too."— you pause. —"Don't get me wrong, it doesn't mean I trust you or enjoy having you around, but... I definetely owe it to you, for keeping an eye on (S/N) and such, and... And for what you did tonight."— you throw him a tiny smile before walking into the kitchen.

Michael didn't follow, not yet. His mind kept repeating that last image of (Y/N) over and over, from their suprisingly calm voice to the soft look in their eyes. But what would make his breath shake was the smile. It wasn't fake, it wasn't nervous, it wasn't out of politeness... It was a genuine, small yet sencere, dedicated to him and him only smile.

He lowers his gaze and places his hand on his chest, gripping the fabric of his coverals tightly.

It's hard to describe what exactly this set of emotions is, it all feels new. All he knows is that he suddenly feels warmth, a very soft and pleasant type of warmth...

It feels very familiar... Yet so distant and forgoten... As if he haven't experience these emotions for a long, long time...

...

...Happy.

He feels happy.

#nothomegal fic #michael myers #michael myers x reader #rz michael myers #rz michael myers x reader #gn reader #slasher x reader

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mitsies · 1 year

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LATE NIGHT TALKING ; isagi yoichi > addiction is a disease, and isagi is sick with infatuation.

isagi's favourite thing to do is wake up with you. he's always been fond of how you curl against him and try to get him to stay an extra 5 minutes, and how your hands tousle his hair. he loves your voice and how it's wonderfully raspy in the mornings.

unfortunately for him, though, his tight schedule often denies him such mornings. as of late, he's had to rise with the sun and leave you alone to wake up.

by the time he's pulling on his shoes and ready to walk out the apartment doors, you're stumbling out of bed to bid him farewell. this little gesture, of you forcing yourself awake only to press a parting kiss onto his cheek means the world to him-- but isagi can't help but feel a little bit deprived of the wonders of early-morning conversation.

it's one such morning- one where isagi is up and early and unlocking the door to go when you’re just barely conscious as you move to meet him by the exit.

“have a good day, okay?” you hear yourself and almost cringe at how thick your voice is with sleep. “i’ll see you when you get back.”

moving your hands onto his chest, you place a chaste kiss on the apple of his cheek. it leaves his face reddened with bliss.

“i’ll see you, babe!”

and then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the apartment.

a beat of silence passes and you exhale, shuffling over to the kitchen counter to prepare yourself a mug of coffee. a sound breaks the quiet atmosphere- someone’s texted you.

yoichi: can u call me? i miss ur voice:(

you fight the smile rising on your face at his message, instead opting to bite the inside of your cheek as if there was anyone to hide your expression from.

you: babe you just left like a minute ago

yoichi: yeah ik i’m still in the lobby of the building but i wanna talk to u!!!!

your phone rings shortly after you’ve read the text, and you pick it up to hear the voice of your boyfriend, who is oddly chipper considering the early hour.

“yoichi? why are you calling me?”

there’s some shuffling on the other side- you hear isagi greet someone in passing before replying to you: “i missed you!”

“it’s literally been 2 minutes maximum.”

“2 minutes too long.”

your brows furrow. “you’re so gross.”

“and you’re in love with me. what does that make you?”

“that makes me out of your league.”

he laughs and you can’t fight the grin any longer. “maybe you’re right.”

“i am. but really- why are you calling me?”

a door closing can be heard in the other end- you presume that isagi’s entered a car. “i already said. i miss your voice.”

“okay? you heard me talk this morning.”

“yeah, but not long enough! i haven’t been able to talk to you as much in the mornings anymore. so i have to get my fill somehow.”

your heart softens at his statement and you lean against the kitchen counter. the coffee machine pours your drink and the air smells warm and cozy. you wish that it could compare to the feeling of isagi’s arms around you.

“okay,” you relent, “i guess that’s a good enough reason.”

“yeah, i knew that would get you.”

“never mind. i should hang up now.”

some muffled sounds can be heard before isagi replies: “no, no, don’t do that.”

“ask me nicely and i’ll consider it.”

“don’t hang up on me.. please?”

“fine.”

“fine? so you’ll stay?”

“i’ll stay.”

he cheers on the other end and you decide not to tell him that you never had any intention of hanging up the phone.

✄ written for the mitsies 3k event with the prompt “can you call me? i miss your voice.”

[⇥ 3K EVENT MASTERLIST] [⇥ 3K EVENT INFO]

#blue lock x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi #yoichi isagi x reader #bllk x reader #mitsies 3k #blue lock isagi #blue lock #bllk

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thepowerofswayze · 5 months

Text

Morning After

not on ao3. gasp!

pairing: mike schmidt (2023) / reader [gender not specified]

word count: 1K

warnings & info: vague references to sexual activity from the day before, mentions of sex, a bit of the DTR convo

summary: After your first time together, you and Mike wake up and figure out what you want from your relationship

note: this takes place after Crush, but you don't have to read either to understand the other, they're pretty stand alone. Crush is 18+ and explicit sex, while this is pretty much just fluff :p

☆

The Saturday morning light warmed your face as you woke, slowly stretching and reaching for… something. What was it? You took a deep breath, and the familiar smell jogged your memory. Mike.

You were fully awake now, blinking slowly as you took in your surroundings. His room was different in the pale sunlight- you’d only ever seen it in the harsh overhead light when you tidied up at night, or dimly in the moonlight when you were too preoccupied in other things to take it in. It was softer like this.

Where did he go? You rolled over, away from the window and toward the slightly open door. A stupid thought crept into your head: What if he left? Then, blushing even though there’s no one there to be ashamed in front of, you remembered that you were in his house, his bed. You were the flight risk, if anything.

Pushing the thought from your head, along with the similar ones that were bubbling up in the back of your mind, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed your eyes. You tugged on your pants from the day before, opting to keep Mike's shirt on. It was comfortable, and wearing it made you feel faintly giddy. You padded out the door and down the hallway, and a sweet, warm smell enveloped you as the kitchen came into view. “What smells so good?” You asked.

Mike was at the stove, flipping something before he turned to look at you. The smile on his face was so wide it was silly, and your stomach fluttered at the sight. “Made pancakes,” he said, turning off the stove before running a hand through his already hopelessly messy hair. The fluttering you felt only got worse as you remembered you’d had a hand in making it so messy the night before. “Thought I’d make something nice since you’re still here for breakfast…”

He trailed off, cheeks just barely flushing, and you were across the kitchen with your arms around him in seconds. You pressed a kiss to his lips, smiling all the while, and his hands found their way back to your hips. “You’re so sweet,” you said as you pulled away, watching his brown eyes search yours. “It’s ridiculous.”

His mouth quirked up at the corner and his chest rose, clearly about to say something- but a noise from down the hall caught both of your attention. Abby, playing in her room, her voice carrying throughout the house.

Mike paused, whatever he was going to say forgotten, and the silence should have been comfortable, but… What was he going to say? Maybe he was going to say something about the pancakes. Or maybe he was going to let you down easy, tell you that the night before was a one time thing. Or that that was all he wanted- just sex. Would he say that? You chewed on the inside of your cheek. This was way more painful than just asking him what he wanted.

He finally broke the silence, saying “I wanted to ask-” at the same time as you started talking- “So, last night-”

You stood there, grinning dumbly at one another. “You first,” he said, his thumb starting to stroke your hip.

A huffed laugh, and you gathered your courage. “Um. Was last night… okay?”

He was speaking almost before you’d finished. “Last night was great. Better than great.”

His brown eyes bore into yours, and a little smirk played on your lips. “Okay.” Then, shoving his shoulder gently. “I know that much.”

Mike chuckled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t leave much mystery.” A little silence. “Could we… would you want, I mean, to do it again?” Then before you could respond, “Not just the sex, I mean. Well, yeah, the sex, but-” He was turning slightly red now, and you couldn’t help the grin on your face, even though you could feel yourself growing just as warm. You put a hand to his cheek, silently brushing your thumb against his stubble. The look in his eyes was grateful as he took a moment, deciding what to say. “Abby was right about my crush on you. And I meant it when I said that I really like you.”

You moved your hand from his cheek, clasping both your hands behind his neck. “Me too. I really, really like you.”

A deep breath. “Okay. I wanna take you on a date, then. If you want. I mean- Will you go on a date with me?”

You were already giggling, and although his face was growing redder by the second, he was smiling at you so fondly it made your chest hurt. You pressed a kiss to his lips, sweet and slow. “Yeah,” you murmured as you pulled away, pressing your foreheads together. “I’d love to, Mike.”

You could feel him relaxing as he kissed you again, just as gentle. His hands moved from your hips to the small of your back, making their way under your (his) shirt. His breath stuttered a little when you sighed at the touch, the kiss deepening, your hands tangling back into his hair-

Another noise from down the hall. You pulled back, wide eyed, and tried not to snicker at Mike’s dazed expression. His brow furrowed, and you glanced to the side, toward Abby’s room. “Do you… are you okay with me being here when Abby wakes up? Like, is it okay if she knows we’re... A thing?”

He had no problem snickering at your labeling, and you smacked his shoulder. It was your turn for your face to grow unbearably warm. You scanned his face as he mulled it over, just for a moment. “I think so, yeah,” he said finally. “I’m hoping you’ll stick around for a while.” He kissed the corner of your smile, then murmured, “I have a feeling Abby will figure out that we’re dating pretty quickly, anyway. Or, at least, that somethings different.”

Your smile only grew, and Mike pulled you in for another kiss.

#not my favorite but short and sweet never hurt anyone #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's movie #fnaf movie #ao3 #my writing #mike schmidt smut #fnaf smut #mike schmidt imagine #jhutch #josh hutcherson #zee writes

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ultram0th · 6 months

Text

31 Days of Derek Hale

Day 30: Daddy

Info │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07 │ 08 │ 09 │ 10 │ 11 │ 12 │ 13 │ 14 │ 15 │ 16 │ 17 │ 18 │ 19 │ 20 │ 21 │ 22 │ 23 │ 24 │ 25 │ 26 │ 27 │ 28 │ 29 │ 30

Derek didn’t like being called “Daddy”.

The werewolf bristled whenever his boyfriend, Stiles, would call him it during sex, but would try to brush it off. It wasn’t because of anything too bad, really. Derek just associated the name with being old. When he’d admitted his dislike of the word to Stiles, Stiles understood, but there was a clear disappointment on his face.

At first, Stiles accepted it and opted to call Derek “Daddy” in his head, yet after one day of looking through one of Peter’s magic books he got a mischievous idea…

Derek came home from work, his muscles feeling slightly achy from a long day at the auto shop. A dazed smile was on his face as he smelt whatever delicious thing Stiles was cooking in the kitchen, mingled with some random incense that was burning throughout the house.

“Hey Stiles,” Derek said as he walked into the kitchen, hugging his boyfriend from behind.

Stiles smiled back, “Oh hey there,” he greeted back, a playful tone evident in his voice. “Did you have a good day at work… Daddy?”

Instead of cringing like usual, Derek was surprised when he felt his cock immediately rocket to life. His seven inches went full mast the mere second he’d heard Stiles call him “Daddy”, even feeling goosebumps erupt all over his body as he shuddered with unfamiliar pleasure.

“Um, y-yeah,” Derek stammered, his cock throbbing with intense need. He was confused over how turned on he was, but that curiosity rapidly disappeared and his face broke out into a playful smirk. Of course Stiles called him “Daddy”, as he frequently did in the bedroom.

Derek tightened his grip on his boyfriend and playfully rutted his hard cock against his butt.

Stiles pushed back into it. “Oh,” he grinned, “I guess you’re feeling a little frisky, huh… Daddy?”

Derek tensed up as his cock throbbed even more, twitching and leaking precum into his boxers. He felt so tortuously horny, licking his beard-framed lips with want…

Derek cocked his eyebrow and reached upwards with one hand, running it over his previously smooth face. The lower half of his face was covered with a thick, black beard that felt so large that it would’ve taken a few months to grow. It wasn’t Santa big, yet it was big enough to where it went past the typical gymbro beard and bordered Daddy-territory.

“Hey, Stiles, do I…?” Derek’s voice trailed off as he was about to ask Stiles if he looked different, feeling silly all of a sudden.

Of course Derek had a beard. He’d begun growing one the year he and Stiles had started dating, loving the way his beard tickled his boyfriend’s neck as he’d hungrily suck on it. Plus, he loved the way Stiles would shudder as his beard rubbed the inside of his thighs as he sucked him off, making sure he was a good daddy by taking care of his boy’s needs.

Stiles turned around and looked up at Derek with wide, admiring eyes. “What?” he asked.

Derek blushed a little and scratched at his beard. “Nothin’” he shrugged, “just having a weird day, I guess.”

Stiles mock frowned and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Well, why don’t you change out of your work clothes, and I’ll finish getting dinner ready… Daddy.”

Derek bit down on his lip as his cock surged once more, feeling as if he was about to explode right there. “Y-yeah,” he panted, jerking back at the sound of his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Be right back.”

As he walked upstairs to their bedroom, Derek could’ve sworn that his voice sounded deeper. It wasn’t exaggeratedly deeper, but the baritone resonated a lot more and there was a more mature quality to it, almost manlier.

The werewolf kept puzzling over it as he entered his and Stiles’s bedroom and began to take off his grease-stained work clothes. As he shucked his pants, his hard cock bobbed wildly in front of him, and he was on the fence between taking care of it real quick and rushing downstairs to ask Stiles to handle it.

Snickering, he opted for the latter and made a move towards the door, clad only in boxers, when he stopped in front of the mirror and gasped loudly.

Derek leaned in even closer to his altered reflection in disbelief, marveling at the array of grays that peppered his hair and beard. As he ran a shaky hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair, Derek finally noticed the new lines that were near his eyes, indicating the slight beginnings of crows feet.

His heart raced in his chest as he looked like he was much older than he should’ve been, however, his cock throbbed once more and his fear evaporated into thin air.

“What a day,” Derek sighed, rubbing his mature face with his hands. Of course he looked a bit older for his age. He was a total daddy after all, and having a boyish face wouldn’t play into that role.

Shaking his head at his dazed feeling, Derek went back downstairs, his tented boxers out in front of himself.

When he entered the kitchen, Stiles’s grin grew even wider as he looked his boyfriend up and down. “If you need some help with that, you gotta give me a second because this is boiling,” he said, gesturing at the pot on the stove. “But it shouldn’t take too long… Daddy.”

Derek grunted as his cock spasmed again, a large wet mark starting to form on the front of his tented boxers from his precum drooling out his hard member. He put on a coy smile of his own, crossing his arms in front of his hairy chest. “Well, you better make it quick, ‘cause Daddy’s getting impatient,” he grunted.

Again, Derek felt like something was off as he looked down at his hairy chest. The older hunk could’ve sworn that his chest was naturally smooth and typically devoid of any hair, but that thought was quickly proven wrong as he stared down at his hairy pecs and stomach. In fact, his whole body seemed to be covered in coarse, black hair. It covered his strong arms, thick legs, and even disappeared into his tented out boxers.

Derek snorted at himself. Of course he was hairy, and he’d always melted at the sensation of Stiles running his fingers through his thick chest hair. He just chalked up his foggy brain to his insane horniness that he felt, his cock aching for his boyfriend to touch.

Derek squirmed in place, his cock twitching madly as Stiles finished up at the stove. Once the burner was turned off, Derek couldn’t contain himself anymore and eagerly rushed forward, easily tossing the smaller guy over his shoulder as he stomped towards the couch.

Stiles laughed. “Damn, I guess you’re really frisky,” he giggled, “…Daddy.”

“Hnng,” Derek bellowed as his cock leaked even more precum, his thudding footsteps sounding heavier and much louder than normal.

For the millionth time that hour, Derek scrunched up his face in confusion as he lumbered towards the couch. The way his thighs rolled over each other as he waddled felt wrong to him. Whereas Stiles felt lighter in his hold for some reason, Derek felt as if his own chest was much heavier than it should’ve been. He glanced downward at his hairy pecs, his eyes nearly bugging out of his skull at the way his bulbous pecs jutted out in front of him, having ballooned to such a large size. They blocked the view of anything south, forcing Derek to stare at his hairy mounds and the tips of his nubby nipples. He blushed as he felt a foreign jiggling at his gut, and upon glancing at his blurry reflection in the TV, he could make out a large, hairy musclegut that his large pectorals rested upon. His boxers had magically disappeared, and the werewolf nearly sputtered at his massive ten inch monster cock that bobbed in front of him. Even his hairy butt had bubbled out, jutting out from his broadened back at a large angle. To finalize his growth, Derek’s arms had doubled in muscle, explaining away at how Stiles felt lighter.

It was hard to deny it now, as Derek stared at his altered reflection. The large muscled up, hairy older man who stared back at him from the TV’s glare. He finally pieced together what was happening: Derek was turning into a total daddy.

And he loved it.

As shocked as he was, Derek’s panic was quickly replaced with lust as he flexed his free arm with power, loving how big and manly it looked. He knew deep down that Stiles had somehow played a hand in this, and he loved him even more for it. Mental images of the two of them out in public, Derek completely dwarfing his smaller boyfriend who called him “Daddy” for all to hear filled him a giddy excitement, and he couldn’t wait to have Stiles run his fingers through his chest hair.

Derek tossed Stiles down onto the couch and loomed over him, smirking hungrily down at him. He couldn’t resist leaning forward and flexing his beefy, hairy muscles. “Who’s your daddy?” he bellowed in his deeper voice.

Stiles could only grin back up at him in anticipation before lowly whispering, “You… Daddy.”

“Uuughh!” Derek grunted as he came, loving how his bulky muscles bounced as his cock erupted, shooting his fat load up onto his hairy pecs. He knew deep down that he’d just cemented his transformation into a muscle daddy, but the second he looked down at his boyfriend, his enlarged cock shot straight back to life, and he pounced, forcing Stiles to take care of his daddy all night long.

#31 days of derek hale #tyler hoechlin #Sterek #stiles stilinski #Teen Wolf #Age Progression #Daddy #Daddification #Daddy TF #Muscle #musclegrowth #Pecs #Hairy #Cockgrowth #Dom Daddy #derek hale

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fluentmoviequoter · 6 months

Text

One More Favor

Pairing: Titans!Dick Grayson x fem!reader (most of this fic takes place in/around Titans 1x2)

Summary: When Dick takes Rachel out of Detroit, he needs help, but he'll have to call in a few favors first.

Word Count: 5.0k+ words

Warnings: POV changes (that hopefully make sense), fluff, a little bit of angst, descriptions of injuries/self-harm (reader cuts her arm open to remove a tracker), several descriptive fight scenes, guns?, spoiler for Titans.

A/N: This is my first Dick Grayson fic, and I actually wrote it several months ago and just got around the editing it. Dick may be OOC, but I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think!

Masterlist | DC/Dick Grayson Masterlist | Request Info (OPEN)

Gotham City - 4 Years Ago

The heavy door creaks as it is pulled open, warm air blowing out into the cold rain. You step inside, dropping your umbrella in the overflowing bin and wiping your shoes on the mat. Shivering slightly, you run your hands up and down your arms, attempting to warm up.

“Hi, Alfred,” you greet as you look over at him, your smile dropping at the solemn look on his face. “What happened?”

“Master Grayson left last night. He left you this,” Alfred answers as he hands you an envelope, your name written in Dick’s handwriting across the front.

“He’s not coming back, is he?” you ask, tears welling in your eyes.

“I’m afraid not. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Alfred. I’m going to go home,” you say as you pull the door open and step out, waiting for the door to close behind you. You take a deep breath and start running, not even thinking about the umbrella you left. As your tears mix with the rain on your skin, your heart feels about as warm as the Gotham City air.

Fremont, Ohio - Present Day

“Where are you taking me?” Rachel asks, spinning one of her rings on her finger as she looks out the window.

“To see an old friend. She can help us,” Dick answers, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

An hour later, Dick checks his phone while he waits in the car as Rachel goes into a truck stop. He tracks her through the window as he dials a number he hasn’t called in years. It rings several times, and he thinks he won’t get an answer.

“Hello?” A voice asks as the line connects.

“Hi, Alfred, it’s me.”

“It’s been a long time, Master Grayson.”

“I know. This is a one-time thing; I need a favor.”

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

You enter the diner, sighing as you fall into a booth. Looking up at the television mounted in the corner, you see a story about yet another murder in Detroit. It’s almost as bad as Gotham City these days.

“How’s my favorite customer today?” Dan asks as he walks to the booth, his apron still on.

“I’ll bet you say that to all of your customers,” you counter with a smile, your hood still pulled over your head.

“I most certainly do not. What can I get you today?”

“Just some tea, please.”

“You need to eat.”

“Will you let me pay?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“I’m not letting you give me free food every day, Dan. Just tea.”

“Fine,” Dan sighs, returning to the kitchen and passing your order to a waitress.

The bell above the door chimes as it opens, a few sets of footsteps echoing as the door closes. You pull your hood up further, turning to face the back corner. Kelsey, Dan’s only waitress at this hour, drops off the mug of tea and a book, smiling at you as she walks away. She’s been lending you books since you first visited two months ago. You slide it closer, shaking your head as you read the summary: a vigilante who gets a new partner. Sounds familiar.

Benton, Pennsylvania – 3 ½ Years Ago

You take a deep breath before you dig the knife into your arm, making a shallow slice from the middle of your forearm up to your elbow. After you drop the knife into the hotel bathroom sink, you grab a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and dig around, gritting your teeth as you ignore the pain. When you finally see a glint of silver, you grab it and pull. The tracker makes a ‘clink’ sound as it falls into the sink and goes down the drain. You sigh as you pick up the pre-threaded needle and start on the stitches. Good luck finding me now, Bruce.

Norwalk, Ohio – Earlier Today

“If the police are looking for me, is it smart to be on an interstate?” Rachel asks.

Dick sighs, knowing she is right. He pulls off at the next exit, getting on a small Ohio state route and heading south. They drive for about thirty minutes before coming to a small diner, claiming to have the state’s best chicken and waffles. Dick is ready for a break, so he doesn’t fight Rachel when she asks him to stop. They walk into the diner, and Dick looks around, planning escape routes and scanning for trouble. The waitress and the cook both say hello as Dick and Rachel sit by the window, the kitchen and the door visible. Dick looks at the only other customer, a girl in an oversized sweatshirt leaning over a book and nursing a mug of something.

“I’m Kelsey. What can I get you, folks?” Kelsey smiles as she approaches their table.

“Chicken and waffles, please,” Rachel orders.

“Coming up, and for you, sir?”

“Just coffee,” Dick answers, smiling.

Dick watches as the cook takes the order from Kelsey before nodding toward the girl in the booth. Kelsey walks over and starts talking to her, but Dick can’t tell if it is a friendly conversation or a ‘you need to leave’ conversation. Kelsey’s shoulders drop as she turns around and walks back to the kitchen pass-through, shaking her head as she speaks to the cook. A plate and a mug slide onto the counter, and Kelsey carries them over to Dick and Rachel, telling them to let her know if they need anything.

“What are you looking at?” Rachel asks.

“I’m trying to figure out what’s going on over there,” Dick answers, gesturing across the restaurant with his chin.

Rachel looks over and cocks her head slightly, “Kelsey’s happy but a little worried, the other one is really hard to read.”

Dick nods, sipping his coffee as he looks up at the television screen. His heart drops as Rachel’s picture appears on the screen, but it is gone before he can say anything. Dick looks toward the kitchen, but no one is there. Turning his head, he sees the cook talking to the other customer, sitting at the booth with her. Kelsey and the cook stand, and the cook returns to the kitchen as Kelsey walks toward their table.

“How is everything?” Kelsey asks.

“Great. Those were definitely the best in the state,” Rachel answers.

“Need anything else?”

“Just the check,” Dick answers, reaching for his wallet.

“It’s been covered,” Kelsey assures before clearing the table.

“By who?” Dick asks, eyebrows furrowing as Kelsey smiles.

The girl in the booth looks up suddenly, leaning to look out the window. She stands and moves toward Kelsey, telling her something before walking out the back door, the book she had been reading abandoned at the booth. Kelsey whispers something to Dan before turning quickly to walk back to Dick and Rachel.

“Someone is here for her,” Kelsey says to Dick, gesturing toward Rachel, “there’s a room through the kitchen with a back door.”

Dick and Rachel stand quickly, following her through the kitchen. They all freeze at the sound of gunshots, then begin moving again.

“Why are you helping us?” Dick asks.

“Favor for a friend,” Kelsey answers as she opens the back door. “Be careful.”

Dick nods as he ushers Rachel to stand on one side of him, gripping his gun in his other hand as they slowly round the building. The girl in the sweatshirt, who Dick really needs a new name for, is standing in the parking lot, a pipe falling from her hand and three unconscious men sprawled on the ground around her. She looks up before dropping her head, putting her hands in her pocket, and walking away. Dick hears one of the men groan and decides to leave before they come to. Rachel keeps asking him if he knows the girl, and the only answer he can supply is, “I don’t think so.” Maybe he should make it his new catchphrase.

Gotham City – 4 Years Ago

You enter your apartment and grab your backpack, dumping its contents out on the floor before you run around and grab what you consider “essentials”: an extra pair of shoes, a change of clothes, cash, a fake ID, a sweatshirt, a blanket, and the letter from Dick. You slide the letter into the protected laptop pocket of my backpack, promising yourself you will read it someday, but not right now. You put on your best pair of sneakers, comfortable and warm clothes, and a jacket with a hood before walking to the ATM, emptying your account, and ditching your card before boarding a bus to Princeton. As you watch Gotham City fade behind the bus, you cry because you lost a part of yourself, and you know it would hurt too much to see reminders of him. So, you leave.

Glen Easton, West Virginia – 2 Years Ago

You check into the small motel with cash and a fake ID, grateful you can sleep in a real bed for once. You find your room and collapse against the small mattress, setting your backpack beside the bed. You open it and pull out a change of clothes before showering. The letter from Dick is still in the computer pocket, unopened. When you think you are finally ready to open it, you get scared about what is inside it and change your mind.

You retrieve the sweatshirt from the bottom of the backpack and put it on. Then you order a pizza and turn on the TV. The sweatshirt is the only thing that provides you comfort after leaving Gotham City. You left everything that tied you to that life, except the sweatshirt, and nights like this make you wish you had realized Dick was going to leave and chased him.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“Why are we driving around in circles? I thought you were taking me somewhere?” Rachel asks.

“I’m looking for the girl that helped us,” Dick mumbles as he looks across the street.

“Oh,” Rachel says with a smile.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ve felt different since you saw her in the diner.”

“She just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

“Someone you knew. Seems like a lot more emotion than simple acquaintances.”

“Fine, we were best friends. We did- some stuff together and we were super close,” Dick said, failing to find a way to explain their vigilante activities.

“You did stuff together?” Rachel repeats incredulously.

“Not like that,” Dick huffs. “We just- she was my best friend, and I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Why?”

“I left.”

“You left her?”

“I didn’t leave her; I left the life I had then.”

“And by extension, her,” Rachel scoffs. “Why haven’t you called her?”

“I tried, once. Her number had been disconnected and I didn’t know her new one. Or if she even wanted to talk to me.”

“Surely you know someone who would’ve stayed in contact with her. Call them.”

Dick sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He does know someone.

“Right now,” Rachel adds, “I can feel your sadness and it’s bumming me out.”

Dick pulls over, pulling his phone from his pocket and typing the number. “It’s me again. I need one more favor,” he says when the line connects.

“Of course, Master Grayson,” Alfred agrees.

“I’m looking for,” he glances at Rachel, who is listening intently, before finishing, “her. I was wondering if you had a new number for her. Or know where she is?”

“Master Grayson,” Alfred says sadly, “we haven’t seen her in four years.”

“Four years?” Dick asks, eyes widening.

“Yes, sir. She left right after you did.”

“Did you give her the letter?”

“I did. She ran out of the manor, literally, after I gave it to her. We have not heard from her since.”

“Any idea where she went?”

“Last we knew she was in Benton, Pennsylvania. But that was nearly three and a half years ago. I’m sorry, Master Grayson.”

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick says before hanging up.

“Sorry,” Rachel says quietly, “I shouldn’t have made you call.”

“Not your fault,” Dick assures her before pulling out. He slams on his brakes and backs up, turning into an alley and parking.

“What?” Rachel yells, gripping her seat.

“I think she’ll go back to the diner, they seemed to know her. Enough to give us free food on her behalf.”

“That’s what you think happened?” Rachel asks sarcastically.

“You’re the one that read their emotions.”

Rachel sighs before agreeing, “You’re right. She’ll go back.”

They find a small motel and get a room for the night, leaving their stuff in the room before returning to the diner. Entering, Dick and Rachel look around but only see the cook and a different waitress.

“Welcome back,” the cook, who introduces himself as Dan, greets.

“Hi, Dan. We’re looking for the girl who was in here this morning. She was wearing a grey sweatshirt, reading a book, and left quickly out the back door,” Dick explains.

“Yeah, I know her. Why are you looking for her?”

“She helped you. That’s why you’re so nice to her, if not a little protective, isn’t it?” Rachel asks.

Dan’s brow furrows as he answers, “Yes, she helped me.”

“We’re not trying to hurt her or get her in trouble or anything. She helped us this morning and we’d like to repay the favor,” Dick promises. “Could you at least give us her name?”

“I don’t know her name,” Dan answers. “But she’ll probably come back here in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Dick and Rachel say together.

The following morning, Dick checks out of the motel and drives to the diner. They both look to the booth where she sat yesterday as they walk in, frowning when they see no one there. Kelsey smiles as she greets them and takes their order, exactly as they had yesterday. Dick spins his mug around as he watches the television, trying to keep himself from staring at the door.

“Dick,” Rachel whispers a few minutes later. She gestures toward the counter, where the girl is now sitting, wearing the same sweatshirt as yesterday.

Before Dick can do anything, Dan’s voice fills the diner. “All three of you need to get somewhere safe. Everyone in town is talking about some secret service agents asking about you folks.”

“All of us?” The girl in the sweatshirt asks.

“You know how these people feel about cops, but they’ll come in here eventually and you don’t need to be here,” Dan says.

“11 North Country Road 29,” the girl in the sweatshirt calls as she stands, “you got that?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Rachel answers, practically dragging Dick to the front door.

Dick gets in the car and speeds toward the address, hoping that the girl in the sweatshirt will meet them there. And give them her name. He parks between the house and a row of trees, where the car is hidden from the road. The back door is unlocked, and Dick sweeps the house before ushering Rachel in. Several minutes later, the back door opens again, and the girl in the sweatshirt walks in, coming face-to-muzzle with Dick’s gun. Her hands are raised as he lowers the gun.

“Sorry,” Dick apologizes as he holsters it.

“Not a problem. I’d give it a few hours before leaving,” the girl says, moving past them.

“Thank you. For yesterday and right now,” Rachel says.

“Least I could do. I’ll be in the back room if you need anything.”

Rachel waits until she is out of earshot to turn toward Dick and ask, “She really reminds you of this girl doesn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighs. “That obvious?”

“Your shame is practically choking me. Why did you hurt her?"

“I didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not an excuse, Dick.”

Rachel walks toward the back room, determined to find a way to help Dick get over his hurt.

Omar, Ohio – 2 Months Ago

“Take your hands off the girl,” you demand as you enter the dark room.

Three men turn toward you, one raising a gun as the others take a step closer. You see a girl tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth, blood everywhere, and fear in her eyes.

“You don’t know who you’re messing with, sweetheart,” the man with the gun growls.

“Right back at ya,” you say, taking a threatening step toward him.

The two other men charge toward you. You catch one of their fists as they throw it toward you, twisting him in front of you to encounter the brunt of the other man’s hit as he throws it. Their shared momentum knocks them both to the floor. You slide across the floor, elbowing the third man’s knee as you grab his hand, flipping his wrist so the gun falls to the floor. You pick it up and level it at his temple.

“One more time: let the girl go,” you demand slowly.

One of the men on the floor throws a knife, which spins in the air and nicks your arm. You glance toward him before swinging the gun and taking three shots, taking out one knee on every man. As they groan in pain and roll on the floor, you untie the girl and ask her where to go. She directs me to her father’s diner.

“I’m looking for Dan,” you say as you carry her through the back door.

Dan comes running, grabbing his first aid kit as he sits beside her. “Your arm needs attention?” he asks as he points to your scarred forearm and the small bloody patch from the knife.

“No, I’m all good. Thank you.” You begin to stand, but he stops you, refusing to let you leave until you eat something.

“You’ll never pay here. Come back anytime,” Dan says when you leave an hour later.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“Sorry about him,” Rachel says as she walks into the back room.

“It’s completely fine.” The girl in the sweatshirt laughs softly, her hand playing with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Rachel says as she sits in a chair across from her.

“How long have they been looking for you?”

“About a week. Since they killed my mom.”

“I’m sorry.”

Rachel shrugs. “Just so you know, the guy I’m with, Dick, he’s a cop. And he’s not usually this weird.”

She laughs again, looking up long enough that Rachel can see her face.

“You remind him of someone he used to know.”

She shakes her head before changing the subject. “You’re Rachel, right? I’m assuming you can do something, otherwise, they wouldn’t be looking for you.”

“I can feel what other people are feeling. There’s something inside of me, but I don’t know what it is.”

“Rachel, you can learn to control it. It’s obvious you’re a good person.”

“I tried to read your emotions at the diner yesterday,” Rachel admits, “but you have a lot, and they were overlapping.”

“A lot has happened to me in the last few years. I don’t even know what I’m feeling all the time.”

“They’re clearer now. You’re sad and regretful,” Rachel says quietly.

“I don’t care that you’re looking, Rach. The more you use your powers, the better you’ll get at them. And you’re dead on.”

“Sometimes, when I touch people I can see some of their memories,” Rachel explains.

The girl in the sweatshirt smiles. “You don’t even know my name.”

“What’s your name?”

She extends her hand and answers, “Find out.”

Gotham City is cold in winter, and the freezing rain is not helping the temperature issue. Robin is fighting behind me, our backs touching as we take down the last of the numerous bad guys.

“Nice work,” Robin says as he smiles at me. “But you’re cold, stop touching me.”

“Oh? I am cold? Your Kevlar is practically frozen,” I respond sarcastically.

He pulls me into his side, pressing the button on his belt to turn on his cape heater.

The setting changes: a large door opens, and an umbrella is placed in a bin, destined to be forgotten.

“-left last night. He left you this.”

An envelope trades hands, and a name is written on it. The door is opened and closed, then running in the rain gives way to stressed packing and boarding a bus. The same envelope is unopened years later, a new scar appears on a forearm, the same backpack is stashed in a motel, and a sweatshirt is the most prized possession.

Omar, Ohio – Present Day

“It was you,” Rachel says, her eyes wide as her hand slips from yours.

“What was?” you ask.

“You’re the girl Dick left, the one he’s feeling so guilty and sad about.”

“He what?”

“He saw you in the diner and was reminded of a girl he used to know. He said they ‘did stuff together.’ You don’t look like that girl; you are that girl.”

“What did you see?” you ask, confused about how exactly her powers work.

“I see some of the most important things in your life. I saw you fighting with Robin and then learning that someone left. You’ve been on the run since then, haven’t you? And the sweatshirt means something.”

“What do you know about Robin?”

“I know who he is. I know what he went through. I think you two should talk.”

A noise outside causes you to stand suddenly. “Stay here.”

You walk out, seeing Dick holding his gun as he moves toward a window. You move to the other side of the room, by another door, and stand against the wall as the door is kicked open. A hand holding a gun comes inside; you grab the wrist and slam it down against your knee. The gun hits the floor and slides away. The man raises both hands to your shoulders, pushing you backward and into the wall. You form a fist and slam it up into his chin, his head snapping back as his grip on you loosens. While you fight him, Dick takes on a second man who enters the house.

Dick moves behind the door, grabbing the man’s shirt collar and flipping him to the floor. He attempts to get information from him but comes up empty. Slamming his fist to his nose repeatedly, Dick doesn’t stop until the man loses consciousness. He looks over and sees the girl in the sweatshirt standing from the floor, wiping blood from her nose.

“That was impressive. You two could be partners,” Rachel says as she walks in, smirking as she looks over at you.

Dick opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, telling them, “You two should get out of here while you still can.”

“I’m not leaving,” Rachel says, crossing her arms. “Not until you two talk.”

“About what?” Dick asks.

“Rachel,” you warn.

“She’s right. We do need to get going.”

“Show him.”

“Either we need to leave, or I need more information,” Dick sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

A phone rings in the back room, and you walk away to answer it, releasing a breath as you realize it was Kelsey.

“What was that about?” Dick whispers.

“You two have to talk before you never get a chance again,” Rachel says.

“Someone broke into your house and assaulted several officers,” you say as you return, “the police are calling a nationwide manhunt for you, Rachel.”

“I am not leaving without you,” she says, stepping toward you and grabbing your hand.

Her eyes fall to the sleeve before she glances up at you and pushes the sleeve up. You push it back down quickly and look away from her.

“I can’t go with you,” you say sadly, shaking your head.

“You can if you want to,” Dick offers, “you’ve been a huge help.”

You look toward Rachel, who only nods as she squeezes your hand.

“Just tell him,” Rachel whispers.

You take a deep breath before you look up and pull your hood down. “Hi, Dickie.”

Dick’s eyes widen as he takes a hesitant step forward.

“Rachel said I remind you of someone,” you say. “I thought-“

Dick cuts you off by rushing forward and hugging you tightly. You return the hug, gripping him tightly and burying your face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I left,” Dick whispers.

“It’s okay.”

“Tell him everything else,” Rachel encourages from beside you.

You squeeze Dick one more time before pulling back and saying, “I left Gotham City after you did. Alfred gave me the letter and I just ran. I’ve been in a bunch of small cities since then, but nowhere as long as here. I saved Dan’s daughter from some kidnappers and just stayed for some reason.”

“Alfred said he didn’t know where you went after Benton,” Dick says.

“I cut my tracker out in Benton,” you explain, pulling your sleeve up and exposing the scar.

He reaches forward and gently runs his fingers up the scar. “Tracker?”

“Right. Bruce told me he sedated you when he gave you yours, something about you being too excited about being in the bat cave.”

“He put a tracker in me?”

“He put trackers in all of us.”

The phone rings twice before silencing. “That’s our cue to leave,” you say.

Columbus, Ohio – 1 Week Later

“How’s your arm?” you ask as you enter the room.

“Healing quickly,” Dick answers, smiling as he looks up at you from the hotel bed.

“Looks good,” you say, gently holding his arm, “yours probably won’t scar.”

“Pizza’s here,” Rachel calls as someone knocks on the door.

Dick answers the door and gets the pizza while you and Rachel get drinks from the mini-fridge. You all sit on the small couch as you eat, and you can’t help but think of old times. The following morning, you, Dick, and Rachel load into Dick’s car and drive toward Covington.

“Are you going to tell him?” Rachel asks as we wait in the car while Dick goes into a police station.

“Tell him what?’

“That you still love him.”

“I-“

“I can feel it. I could feel it when he was Robin and when you found out he left, in the safe house, and right now.”

“I don’t know, Rach.”

Dick sighs as he gets back in the car. “I got the description of the woman who broke into the crime scene.”

“Where to now?” you ask.

“Arcade. 5 miles north,” Rachel answers.

You laugh lightly as you shrug at Dick.

“An hour,” Dick says as he puts the car in gear.

“And a half,” you and Rachel correct together.

You give her some cash before you and Dick find a seat where you can see the entire arcade.

“You’re good with her,” you say as you steal a fry from his plate.

He playfully swats your hand away before moving his plate closer. “So are you,” he agrees.

You watch Rachel for a moment before looking down at your sweatshirt sleeve.

“Are you okay?” Dick asks, his hand landing on your arm.

“Yeah,” you say with a nod, still looking down. “This sweatshirt is the only connection I’ve had to you for the last four years.”

“What?”

You extend your arm toward him, watching his face as he grabs your wrist and looks at the sleeve, his initials and a small Robin messily embroidered on it.

“You kept it?” he asks.

“Of course, I did.”

“Mine’s in the trunk of my car,” he admits, smiling as he looks back up at you.

“Really?”

“You think that I’d leave it after all the hard work we put into them? I couldn’t leave it behind; it felt like leaving you behind. I tried to call you.”

“I left my phone; didn’t want Bruce to come after me.”

“Why does Rachel keep telling you to talk to me?”

You laugh before answering, “There’s something I haven’t told you and she wants me to.”

“What?”

“That I’m in love with you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

Dick is silent as he stares at you, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said any-“

Dick pulls your wrist gently, slamming his lips to yours. His other hand raises and wraps around the base of your neck, pulling you closer. You move your hands to his waist, pulling yourself closer to him as you kiss him like he’s your source of life.

“I take it you told him,” Rachel says, suddenly standing on the other side of the table.

Dick pulls back, smiling at you before saying, “Shut up, Rachel.”

“I’m out of money.”

Dick pulls a fifty from his wallet, handing it to her and smiling in gratitude as she walks away. She nods and returns the smile.

“I love you,” Dick says.

“I love you,” you respond, stealing another one of his fries.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. I wanted to find you but had no idea where to look.”

“Rachel was right. We could be partners. Again.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Grayson,” you smile before kissing him again.

“You didn’t read the letter did you?”

“I couldn’t,” you admit, shaking your head, “hurt too much. Why?”

“I wrote it to tell you I loved you. I wanted to take you with me but was scared.”

“I guess I should read it then, because I love you, too, Dickie.”

You and Dick watch as Rachel walks toward you, a tall woman with bright Magenta hair on one side and a green-haired boy on her other side.

When they reach the table, Rachel says, “This is Kory and Gar. They have some interesting stories.”

“This feels familiar,” you mutter to Dick as you stand up.

“I’m gonna need a bigger car,” Dick says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fic #titans!dick grayson #dc titans #fem!reader

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mikasa-imadebiscults · 11 months

Note

Then, here i go! hope it's doable

Opposites attract trope, where Muzan falls for deer centaur! reader (or satyr, whichever you feel more comfortable) with nature powers

he flees from the final battle to a forest as the morning light approaches. He becomes aware of a presence there, but it isn't human nor demon, so it throws him off.

when this presence approaches him, he sees what he hadn't known existed even though he's lived for a very long time or thought of it as make believe: A being from The Land Of The Fae.

reader is shy but kind, offering to heal him since those big scars looked like they were hurting him, and he's coughing up blood. He lets them heal him, but both began seeing the other is very attractive, and a form of sexual tension rises within both. in other words, both conclude they need each other. (I hope im not asking too muchfkgndkfndfnf)

(I really hope you like this, I did some research and it was hard to find info, some stuff about satyr’s might be not true idk how trustworthy those websites were. How satyr’s use the healing ability I have no clue so I just made it up)

An Unfamiliar Creature

Muzan Kibutsuji x GN! Satyr! Reader

(Warning: Manga spoilers, swearing, blood, sexual tension, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption)

About the reader: They’re a Satyr, they can run at superhuman speeds, sense nature magic and the emotions of demigods and mortals. The reader looks human but has horns (let’s say that another creature casted a spell on them causing them to look more like a human)

Those flies just kept on coming they’re frustrating and annoying to deal with but unfortunately for Muzan they have gotten strong, a little bit too strong. Death, the thing that scared Muzan the most is so so close. Muzan was running and running as fast as he can, cursing at those damn demon slayers in his head.

He ran into a unfamiliar forest, it was far away from where he had just battled. Muzan was deep in the forest, looking around and was thinking about what to do next, until he sensed a unfamiliar being.

“What the hell.” That was the only words Muzan could process, what he sensed wasn’t a human but also wasn’t a demon either.

As the figure approached him he began to be even more puzzled. The figure was standing in front of him now, he was speechless. Out of all the years he lived, not once did he ever encounter a creature like this.

The figure didn’t look threatening, it was avoiding eye-contact and seemed to be nervous, Muzan assumed that the creature was a shy being.

“I see, I can’t sense your emotions so it seems you’re not a demigod or a mortal, but I’ve seen a few of your kind around here before.” The creature spoke, fiddling with the edge of their shirt.

Muzan opened his mouth to speak but only to be interrupted by his own coughing, blood dripping from his mouth spilling onto the ground. He fell down on his knees with his hands on the ground. The creature walked up to him and kneeled down.

“My name is Y/N, let me heal you. Those scars look terribly painful.”

Muzan only nodded his head, he puts all his tentacles back inside himself, giving you the permission you needed. You put your hands on his shoulders and began healing him. All the pain and suffering Muzan was going through due to the poison that was running through his body was now gone, including the scars from Yoriichi.

“Alright you’re all healed, would you like to go to my place? But o-only if you want to.” You asked nervously while getting up from the ground.

“Sure.” Muzan said, following you when you began walking to your house. As he kept looking at you, the more interested he became. He wanted to know more about you, what you do, and who you are.

After walking for a little bit you arrive at your destination, welcoming Muzan into your home.

“Would you like some alcohol?” You said as you went into the kitchen.

“That would be nice.” Muzan said looking into the pantry full of alcohol.

“I can tell you like alcohol a lot.” He said attempting to spark a deeper conversation with you.

“Well I’m a Satyr and Satyr will lose a lot of energy and will die if they don’t drink at least 8 ounces of alcohol. So I keep a lot in stock.”

“Ah..” Muzan said. He almost got lost in your voice, you sounded nervous but it still sounded very peaceful to him.

“So do you fight? If so how?” He said trying to get you to talk more.

“Satyr’s often like to outnumber their opponents, one of them plays the panpipe to activate their magic. While half shoots at the enemy then the other half moves to a new position out of their targets field of view and hide.”

“Very interesting.” Muzan says.

You gave him a small glass of alcohol and he grabs the cup to drink it. You kept looking at him and started to find him very attractive. You started to get in the mood for him and little did you know that he felt the same.

At this point both of you began to feel the sexual tension in the air. Muzan started to smirk and said-

“I think I’ve found myself a new partner, don’t you think?”

(Sorry it took so long to complete, I was procrastinating, I hope I did a decent job writing this)

Masterlist

#kny scenarios #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x y/n #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #kny muzan #muzan x reader #muzan x y/n #muzan smut #muzan imagine #demon slayer muzan

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stargirlwritingjourney · 1 month

Text

Perfect Gossip Snack

Fandom: Outer Banks

Pairing: Rafe Cameron/JJ Maybank

Rating: General Audiences

Warning/Tag(s): No Archive Warnings Apply, Stealing food, Sharing food, Eavesdropping

Summary: While working an underpaid job for a bunch of Kooks, JJ runs into some familiar faces and can't help but listen in. But in true JJ fashion, his job isn't done till he's left his mark.

Event(s): @eclipsingbingo with 'sharing food' | @fandom-free-bingo with 'are you obsessed with me?'

Can be read here

JJ's shift had been dragging on for what felt like hours. Scratch that, it had been hours. Clocking on for work just as the sun had begun rising and still working the same tables even though it was well-passed lunch made JJ question whether the extra cash was worth it.

Working for Kooks wasn't much of a bonus, not when they saw the ratty kid that he was and either turned their nose up at him, used him as an example for their children who were at least half his age, or tried to take him under their wings as if they were teaching him something. Though those Kooks were the ones who normally tipped a bit extra.

Checking the clock hooked onto the wall as he passed, JJ snatched a quick glimpse at the time. Finding himself with less than an hour left of his shift before he can make his way off Figure Eight and back to the Cut so he can relax for the remainder of the day.

But just as he was about to make his way past a table assigned to one of his coworkers and into the kitchen where he could waste a few minutes as he pretended to gather plates of food, he heard the whiny voice of someone familiar.

"She's your sister, Rafe," A voice he had been hoping to not hear for another good few months muttered in a defeated slum to the boy sitting across from him. Just the sound of his voice made JJ come to a halt, trying to make it look as natural as possible as he looked over at the table. "Can't you talk to her or something for me?"

"She likes you a lot more than she's ever liked me," Rafe responded to Topper's dejected stare, holding a laugh within his lips at all the fuss over his sister. JJ didn't know whether or not he should be surprised at the sight of the two being this was a Kook restaurant. Or perhaps he just couldn't believe how much bad luck he had."Just talk to her man, then you'll know there's no real fuss over John B."

"You're probably right," Topper agreed, taking a quick sip of his drink. The hand he used to lift his drink quickly came up to his temple, giving it a small rub as if just the thought of John B was giving him a headache. "I just can't understand what's so special about him to begin with."

"You know what Pogues are like," Rafe once again reassured, looking as if the conversation was boring him. "John B just happens to be one of the luckier ones."

"Couldn't help but notice you were talking about my boy over here," JJ proudly announced his presence, throwing all caution to the wind as he drew a seat over from an empty table and stationed it at Rafe and Topper's. Taking a heavy seat, he grins at the both of them, revelling in the disgusted looks that were thrown his way by the two. "You don't mind if I join this little chat, right?"

His face was one of innocence as he waited for a response. His eyes were wide, attempting to oversell himself though it only made him look more ridiculous.

Topper was gearing up to reject JJ's presence. His eyes flashed down to the uniform he was wearing and a foul twist of words sitting on his tongue ready to be spat. Rafe, however, beat him to it. With his lips quirking up and a shift in his seat so he was leaning back, Rafe said, "I don't see any harm in that. Maybe Maybank can give you some inside info, Topper."

"Maybe," Topper agreed, though he looked as if he had just eaten some mouldy bread, akin to what JJ had to eat that morning, and sitting near JJ was the last place he wanted to be. "So what do you have to say?"

"Say about what?" JJ questioned as if he hadn't been listening in to their conversation for the last few minutes.

"About Sarah and John B," Topper stated as if it was obvious. There was an exaggerated roll of his eyes that had his whole head spinning with them. "They've been hanging out more, haven't they? I can never get ahold of her because she's too busy running off with him."

"Oh, yeah, Sarah's 'round all the time," JJ grinned, a smile similar to the Chesire cats as he saw the disdain flash across Topper's face. It may have been a small lie, JJ never actually saw the girl but he knew John B was out and about with her, though Topper didn't need to know that. "I'm surprised they haven't completely skipped the talking stage and gone straight to third base now that she's dumped you. You'd think they would've with how they act around each other."

A sharp inhale through Topper's nose only widened JJ's grin as his head whipped around to face Rafe.

"I told you so," Topper hissed, annoyance clear on his face as he almost urgently whispered the words out as if JJ couldn't hear them. "She's already cozied up next to John B."

"Hey relax," Rafe tried to intervene, shooting JJ a look to tell him that he wasn't helping.

"Yeah, relax," JJ parroted his words, leaning a hand forward to quickly grab at a few of the fries on Rafe's plate. He was just quick enough to avoid being slapped on the wrist for his efforts. Waving the chips around as he spoke, JJ said, "They aren't together yet. You still have time to slither your way back in."

"Do you do this with all of your customers?" Rafe questioned, waiting for an answer from JJ and only continuing when all he got in return was a quirk of one of his brows. "Invite yourself over and then steal the food they've paid good money for?"

Eyes crinkling at the sides as he spoke with a smile, JJ teased, "Only the ones I like best."

Rafe seemed as if he was going to say more, his jaw tightening for half a second as he eyed JJ's face but was beaten to it before any words could even leave his mouth.

"JJ, stop slacking off just because you've been on your feet for a few hours," His boss's voice rang across the room, alerting him that his couple minutes chatting up the Kooks had gone noticed. "Do something productive for the last few minutes you're working."

"Yes sir," JJ jokingly saluted as he stood to his feet and quickly tucked the chair back to its rightful table. Turning back to his lovely guests, JJ couldn't help but snatch up a few more fries, daring as much to dip them in the sauce that Rafe had. Flicking it towards the blonde's face, a few droplets flying and smacking against him, JJ bid his farewell, not without having to hear Topper's distant call for more answers as he walked away, "I'll catch you two another day. It was fun talking about Topper's obsession with John B. Or maybe his obsession with me since John B just does everything I do but in a less cool manner. Are you obsessed with me Topped?"

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giuliadesu · 1 year

Text

you are 25 when you hug 'tsumu for the first time.

...& THEN?

it was almost time. your apartment was a complete mess: two big suitcases laid open on the floor of your living room, while a backpack had been sitting on the cushions of your couch for the last couple of days. in the bedroom and in the kitchen there were boxes ready to be filled with the belongings you’d decided to bring along with you.

in a few days you would finally leave your country for good, a one-way ticket for japan bought months in advance. it felt incredibly liberating: the country of your dreams, where you unwittingly found a family and where you’d hopefully spend the rest of your life was waiting for you.

on the small console table near the front door sat all your documents: passport, approved visa, papers needed to start the process of obtaining citizenship, the last two paychecks and the note from the bank — last but not least the plane ticket. surreal. that was one word that could describe the hectic chaos of emotions swarming both your heart and head.

the owner of the small bookshop where you’d worked in the last five years (a lovely korean lady in her sixties) agreed to take your plants and to see you off at the airport on the day of your departure. looking around, all the green friends you’d seen grow in the last few years were bundled together, ready to meet their new home. a small smile graced your lips, happy to know they would’ve been well cared for and you’d receive regular updates on their growth.

then you still had to say goodbye to the owner of the apartment, who lived just next door; after that, all the tasks that still bound you to the city would be completed, setting you free to begin your new life.

YOUR LOCATION, 04:15

it was early, way too early for your likings. groaning, you stretched under the sheets, the tank top riding a bit over your ribcage. your hand tentatively moved over the duvet searching for your phone so to turn off the alarm. a few notifications arrived during your short slumber: a few messages from atsumu (who had absolutely no idea of the fact that today was the day), one from osamu, while the last one was from the wallet app, letting you know that your digital ticket was now available.

you chose a comfortable fit for the long journey — black leggings, ‘tsumu’s shirt and sweatshirt, the most comfortable pair on nike you owned. everything was ready; the bookstore owner would send your boxes over once you’d found a more permanent solution compared to an airbnb, while the two black suitcases were finally closed and next to the door. touring the various rooms one last time, you made sure to have taken everything with you.

several hours later, you were flying over vast mountainous regions, the plane directed towards incheon airport, where you would have to spend about an hour before the last leg of your journey.

a small yet sincere smile graced your lips when the hostess announced it was almost time for landing. you knew exactly what you would’ve done just a few minutes prior to boarding on the japan airlines airbus a350 — there was a certain someone you just had to call.

bubbling with adrenaline, you made your way towards the gate and opted to stay standing in front of the tall floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the runway. was this the same adrenaline atsumu and the others felt before a match? the feeling of being invincible and ready to do anything?

taking a deep breath, you went over to the setter’s contact info. you felt giddy inside thinking that now you were in the same timezone, for the first time in five years. it was almost 11 pm, you called.

“hey bubs, what’s up?”

“hi ‘tsumu, are you still at practice?”

“yeah, but now we’re having a short break. although you know i’d drop anything for you.”

shameless flirt, you thought to yourself, smiling widely at this point.

“well, i have a little something to tell you: currently, i’m at incheon airport. in a few minutes i’ll board a flight that will bring me to kansai international airport-”

“what?!”

ŌSAKA, 01:40

exactly one hour and forty minutes later, you were at the baggage claim. as expected of japanese punctuality, your two very black and very big suitcases were delivered on time, so in just ten minutes you were making your way over to exit the claim area of the airport.

you had no plans, apart from reaching the bnb you booked. you didn’t know if the small bomb you dropped to atsumu earlier on would have made him magically appear in front of you, for one of those incredibly cliché airport reunions that were so popular in dramas. right now you were just too tired to think further, the almost seventeen hours of flight weighing on you. slowly, you tried to navigate through the sea of people that, just like you, wanted to leave the area to reach a place of rest. but, you underestimated how big kix would be; despite being incredibly well designed, it was not exactly easy on the brain of someone who was that tired. for a split second you thought about asking osamu to come pick you up, but the idea quickly left your mind as fast as it came — he was surely tired after a long day at onigiri miya.

you stopped in a little less crowded area, trying to collect your thoughts and figure out the best route to reach your bnb.

atsumu had never run so fast in his entire life. the moment you ended the call, he dropped everything at the gym, shouting half an explanation to his team before grabbing his sweatshirt and sprinting out of the stadium, catching the first available taxi and finally making his way to the airport.

despite being this late, there were still so many people crowding the area. how the hell was he supposed to find you? running a hand through his messy blond locks, he tried to follow a logical line of thought: first, you must’ve gone through the customs to get your visa approved, then surely you went to the baggage claim; his eyes frantically scanned the huge display, looking for the latest plane inbound from seoul. gate 41. of course it had to be the farthest one from the main entrance!

his instinct told him to go towards the columns where the vending machines were located. sure enough, you were there. with his clothes on. your backpack was sitting nicely on top of your suitcase, open as you rummaged through its contents.

atsumu smiled as he made his way behind you, his cheeks hurting from the emphasis of the movement. as he got closer, he could breathe in your perfume and the fragrance of your shampoo. seeing his surname plastered across your back did inimaginable things to his heart, adrenaline shooting through his veins at a thousands miles per second. then, quickly yet gently, he brought his hands to cover your pretty eyes, your back now flush against his sturdy chest — the 32 centimetres of height difference even more evident.

“hey bubs, welcome home.”

it all happened in a fraction of a second: you tensed, then quickly spun around to bury your face in his chest, while hugging him tightly.

“‘tsumu! what are you doing here? you’re supposed to be at practice now!”

“do you really think i could’ve stayed there knowing you were here? very funny, bubs.”

after staying in silence wrapped around one another for a few more minutes, you moved your arms to sneak around his neck; in the meantime, his hands went to grab you in the space between your buttocks and the posterior part of your thighs, hoisting you up. immediately, your legs went around his waist.

now that you were eye level, you both had a dashing, lovestruck smile adorning your features. you cupped his cheeks and booped his nose with your own. your thumbs were slowly caressing the apples of his cheeks, never breaking eye contact.

then, a small whisper, as if his hold on you could disappear just like in a dream.

“hi, i’m home.”

a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

“hi, welcome home.”

ŌSAKA, 03:00

atsumu insisted on having you at home with him. his hand never left you: while going to the taxi, with one he was carrying half of your luggage, the other was intertwined with yours; during the ride, you were nestled in his side while his fingers gently moved up and down your arm.

despite the very late hour, neither of you was tired — there were simply so many things you wanted to do now that you were finally sharing the same space. without thinking twice, atsumu carried your things to his bedroom, setting them nicely near his wardrobe for you to unpack the next day.

“hungry, bubs? wanna something to eat?”

when you happily nodded, he smiled brightly and ruffled your hair. then, he opened one drawer and pulled out a neatly folded shirt and handed it to you.

“go have a shower or a bath, whatever you fancy; i’ll fix you something in the meanwhile, yeah?”

“you’re the best, ‘tsumu, thank you!”

the sweet kiss you planted on his cheek (terribly close to his right snakebite) was all he needed before going to the main area of the house, where both the kitchen and the living+dining area sat in an open space. as he was about to leave the room, he turned back to you.

“feel free to leave all your things around, both in the bathroom and around the house!”

now alone in his room, you sat on the floor. was it all real? or were you stuck in a wonderful dream? in case of the latter, then you had no intention of waking up. coexisting with atsumu in his space with him felt so natural and spontaneous, as if you’d always lived together. deep inside, you were squealing like a little child.

“okay, i need to stop. time for a shower!”

you rummaged a bit in your suitcase to fetch a pair of shorts to wear under the shirt and your toiletries. the warm water rolling over your body relaxed your muscles, tense from all the hours you spent crammed in a plane. also, the branches of eucalyptus that the setter kept in the wetroom gave off such a pleasant fragrance that did wonders to soothe the beginning of your headache.

clad in the way too big shirt and a towel around your neck to prevent your wet hair from dripping water everywhere, you made your way over to the kitchen. you stood for a bit in the doorframe, admiring the view: atsumu was in front of the stove, where a pot of water was boiling, and several ingredients sat on the countertop. he had ditched the sweatshirt as soon as you got home, so you could see the muscles in his arms flex for any single movement. with a small smile gracing your lips, you made your way over; once close enough, your right hand went over his back to rest right between his shoulder blades.

“that doesn’t look like a quick snack, mind if i help you?”

“oh no no no. you sit on the counter and look pretty.”

with that, atsumu wiped his hands on a towel, before picking you up by the waist and gently sitting you on the surface right next to him. effortlessly. the setter resumed his ministrations: chopping the scallion and the mushrooms, while the lotus root was simmering before being stir fried with the tofu. after having drained the noodles, he put them in another pot where coconut milk was simmering with some soy sauce; once the other ingredients finished their trip in the pan, they joined the noodles in the pot. a few more minutes and a big, steaming cup of vegetarian ramen was on the counter.

with the bowl in hand, atsumu came towards you, stopping between your legs. his right hand was holding a pair of chopsticks, with dangling udon and a bit of scallion on top.

“say ahhh.”

you leaned in close, graciously accepting the food in a single mouthful, a dashing smile lighting up your features.

“oh my gosh, it’s delicious! when did you learn to make this? and how did you know that it’s my favorite dish?”

“well, you mentioned it once three or four years ago, and after that time i asked ‘samu to teach me… y’know, in the eventuality we’d meet one day.”

your expression became even softer when noticing the slight blush adorning the tip of his ears. your hands went over his holding the bowl, retrieving also the chopsticks in the meanwhile. when you spoke again, while mimicking his actions and offering him a bite, your voice was barely above a whisper — but, considering how close you were, it was more than enough.

“and look at us now, together in your kitchen as if we’d been together for years.”

“honestly, bubs, i think it’s high time we fix that, yeah?”

after the incident with the pictures of almost two months ago, atsumu started shamelessly flirting with you, leaving no doubts or room to misinterpret his feelings. and you, for once, decided that it was worth it to also let him know that yeah, you felt the same way and everything was perfect like this. in a sort of silent mutual understanding and agreement, after realizing for just how long you had been loving each other (at this point it was way more than a simple crush), it was okay to skip a few steps along the way.

when atsumu started to lean in close, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks, you wasted no time in sneaking your arms around his neck, lovingly caressing his nape.

and then it happened. at half past four in the morning, while in his kitchen, with an empty bowl of delicious ramen long forgotten next to you. ‘tsumu’s lips were on yours, ever so gentle and delicate; the cold metal of his piercings was a stark contrast with your own skin.

neither of you could stop the smile growing on your features. everything was just perfect. small laughs were exchanged in between kisses and pecks, with the soft light of the overhead kitchen lamp as the only source of illumination.

“gosh, i love you so so much…”

an almost inaudible whisper against your mouth, as gentle thumbs caressed your cheeks, a smile so bright it could’ve rivalled the whole galaxy.

“me too, ‘tsumu. i love you so much.”

ŌSAKA, 15:49

when you opened your eyes you were greeted by the warm light of the afternoon coming in from the huge window of the bedroom. the skyline of the city was perfectly visible, as the apartment was located on the last floor of a building. when you tried to stretch, you felt someone stirring and complaining about your sudden movement. lowering your gaze, you found atsumu resting his head comfortably on your chest, while his arms were tightly wrapped around your waist. he was wearing only a pair of grey trunks, too tired after his shower to put on anything else. lovingly, your hands found their way on his back and in his hair, gently massaging his incredibly soft locks — despite the frequent rounds of bleaching in order to achieve his desired color.

“hey sleepyhead, good morning.”

“five more minutes, please…”

you simply laughed a bit, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. at that the setter perked up, a lazy grin plastered across his face as he pressed his lips to yours.

“that was the best night of sleep i’ve ever had, bubs. ‘m so glad you’re finally here with me.”

“mhmh, i’m not going anywhere.”

you spent the next half an hour cuddling in bed (as if you’d done something different ever since you got into bed), whispering sweet nothings and deciding how to spend the rest of the day.

“i think tomorrow i’d like to meet your team, if it’s okay with you. and maybe this weekend we could go to onigiri miya with your mom, suna and aran? oh, but i have to get them something first. ah, and maybe i should first go to the government office, to start my citizenship application, just so i can be su-”

atsumu interrupted you with a sweet and innocent kiss, before looking at you with the most serious expression you’d ever seen on him.

“hey, marry me.”

“w-what?!”

you were shocked, but not necessarily in a negative way: you had been dreaming of such an occurrence ever since he gave you the necklace with his surname on it. and you knew for certain that both of your feelings were stronger than ever, and would not falter anytime soon. it was just a sudden thought to voice, but after the developments of the last 24 hours, it was not a complete surprise.

“i mean it when i say that i love you. and i’m not afraid of marrying you on the spot. i’ve loved you silently for so many years now that i’d be ready to change my whole life to accommodate you in it. and sure, maybe we’re skipping a few steps along the way, we’re rushing things a bit, and i don’t even have a ring with me right now. but… marry me, please?”

and what were you supposed to answer? your heart belonged to him.

you cupped his cheeks, lifting his face until you were eye to eye. while his expression remained serious, you could see in those chocolate eyes a bit of doubt; he was probably wondering if he’d crossed a line, if such a thing was too much. after all, marrying a professional athlete was no easy feat — you’d have to be shielded from prying eyes, and his training hours kept him away from home most of the days, not to mention when he would have to attend away games. but you knew; in all those years it became obvious, and not once it became a problem in your eyes.

so you simply kissed him again and again, feeling his strong body relaxing in your hold.

“yes.”

a couple of hours and a call later, you were in the office of the legal person who would sign your marriage certificate within the government building. they agreed to process your request of citizenship as well, considering that you’d automatically gain it as you were marrying a japanese citizen.

“... and what about the surnames? have you decided how you want to deal with them?”

your answer was quick and full of pride.

“i’ll be taking his; my previous one can be disregarded completely.”

atsumu squeezed your hand, from where your intertwined fingers were resting on his thigh. you turned to him with a dashing smile.

the two of you signed the documents, then the employee did the same and handed you your papers and the certificate.

“you will receive your new passport and documents in five days, directly at home. just make sure to give the courier this paper once he arrives.”

you both thanked the man and left the office, still hand in hand. atsumu was holding the tote bag containing all the papers as you made your way back to his motorcycle; then he looked down at you, pulling you in for a side hug.

“hi, ms miya.”

“hi, mr miya.”

before going to dinner in a nice ramenya, the setter insisted on stopping by the jewellery shop where he had your necklace made. the old owner recognized immediately the delicate piece you were wearing around your neck, and was very pleased to know you’d never removed it for three years straight and it still didn’t show signs of wear.

“so, what brings you youngsters here today?”

“we’d like to purchase a set of wedding rings. the simplest you have, in platinum, sizes xs and m.”

with a happy look on his face, the man went to the back of the store and came out a few moments later holding a small box in his hand. upon showing it to you, it was clear that was exactly what you were looking for.

you ended up exchanging your vows and rings in a secluded booth at the restaurant, a fuming bowl of ramen in front of you, ready to be shared, like the rest of your lives.

thanks to the friendship hinata had with kenma, you started working as a game designer for bouncing ball, albeit remotely from home. mama miya almost fainted when you both shared the news of your wedding that weekend at onigiri miya — the shop had been close for the day, allowing a gran reunion between the msby team and some of their friends. everyone was delighted to finally meet you in person, knowing that this was probably the beginning of weekly meetings all together.

that year atsumu and other msby members got drafted to be part of the olympic team. and when they won gold, your relationship became public: you launched yourself off the bleachers of the olympic stadium of tokyo, ready to jump into the waiting arms of your husband. and at that point all the world could see the red ink embedded on both your left wrists, as well as the shining bands adorning your ring fingers.

JUST TAKE IT SLOW, ONE DAY AT A TIME

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