#but i may come back to finish the other half eventually

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter Two

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I hope the tags worked, I'm new to having a tag list!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous chapter: Chapter One

Next chapter: Chapter Three

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I’m in love with Ruggie, so I accidentally made half of this chapter about him. Oops.

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You decided that the best course of action would be watching from afar. The hyenas were afraid of you, the king of the lions didn’t like you, and the wolves were wary of you. All in all, not the greatest situation.

You didn’t know what you expected. Did you really think they would all love you from day one? They were half-animals, after all. They had the instincts of wild animals, not domesticated pets.

Still, you were determined to make them like you. The hyenas would probably be easiest, once they warmed up to you. The wolves would probably get used to you eventually. The lions- well, that was a tricky situation. They all followed Leona, so you’d have to win him over before you could win over the entire pride, and that would not be easy.

You grabbed your journal and pen from your locker and walked to the savannah exhibit’s door. This time, you had brought a water bottle with you, prepared for the upcoming heat you would have to face. You had also bought binoculars from one of the vendors, knowing you would need it if you were going to keep some space between you and the halflings.

You entered the exhibit, wincing at the heat that hit your skin. You scanned the dry land for the hyenas and found them lounging around the watering hole, talking amongst themselves. You stepped behind a large rock and leaned over it, raising your binoculars to your eyes.

It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but they seemed to laugh a lot. You really wished you knew what they were saying, but if you approached them, they would probably stop their conversation and focus on getting away from you.

Day 1

HYENAS

There are seven hyenas and they all seem to be close to each other, as they stick together in a group. Their conversations seem to be humorous, as they are often laughing. This could be from their hyena half, as hyenas are known for their “laugh”.

Each of the halflings are easily differentiated by their hyena ears and tail. They all seem to be around 5’5, but even the tallest ones do not hit 6 feet. 

They are relaxed until a female approaches them. In this case, all seven hyenas are male, so the problem starts when a female keeper tries to feed them or study them up close. They suddenly become extremely wary or even frightened and are very hesitant to come anywhere near a female keeper.

The best way to calm them down, I believe, is to show them that you are not aggressive like female hyena halflings are. It doesn’t get rid of their fear, but it definitely helps.

You peered through your binoculars and watched the six hyenas as they drank from the watering hole- most of them scooping water into their palms and drinking from their hands, while others put their head down to drink directly from the source.

Wait- six hyenas? Weren’t there seven?

You felt a hot breath on the back of your neck and you spun around, heartbeat skyrocketing. There, standing behind you, was the hyena halfling you had talked a little bit with when you were handing out breakfast.

He retreated to a safe distance and sat down, cross-legged, studying you curiously, a slight smile on his face as though he was proud that he had frightened you. Suddenly, you were all too aware of the claws on his fingers and the unnaturally sharp canines that shone in the sunlight when he flashed you a lazy smile.

“Shishishi,” he giggled, eyes locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

“You scared me, Ruggie!” you said, your heartbeat starting to go back to its normal pace.

His grin only widened. You noticed his eyes flickering from you to your notebook.

“Oh! Are you interested in my notebook?” you asked, holding it out to him.

Ruggie frowned, looking a little offended, “I can’t read.”

Oh. You felt your cheeks growing warm. Of course a halfling, who had spent his life in the wild and then captivity, wouldn’t know how to read. It was a miracle that any of them had picked up enough English to be able to speak it.

“Do you want me to read it to you?” you asked.

Ruggie’s eyes widened and he cocked his head at you. Finally, he shook his head. A little disappointed, you closed your notebook. “That’s alright. Did you want to talk?”

Ruggie shook his head once more and you felt yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t sure why he was still here if he wasn’t interested in talking. One of the other hyenas made a whooping sound and Ruggie responded with his own hyena noises, turning his attention to the other hyenas for a moment before he turned back to you.

You decided to try to get him to speak to you, “So, did you enjoy breakfast? You had three servings, after all.”

Finally, Ruggie nodded then, as an afterthought, added, “I like donuts better.”

“Donuts?” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Would you like it if I brought some?”

Ruggie’s eyes widened, “Donuts?”

“Yeah!” you said happily, “My boss said I could bring you guys anything, as long as I paid for it with my own money.”

He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky, “Donuts!”

Ruggie called back to his friends with a series of whoops and other hyena noises and they responded back enthusiastically. You wished you could understand their language.

You turned back to your notebook.

It seems like hyena halflings like sweets or, at least this group likes donuts. One of them, the one named Ruggie, seems like he has warmed up to me a little. We talked a little, mostly about donuts, but I feel like he isn’t as scared of me as the others are.

Ruggie seemed to have had enough, because he stood up and, with a curious glance back at you, he ran off to join the others, kneeling by the watering hole to drink along with his peers.

You were a little disappointed by how short the conversation had lasted, but more than anything, you were excited that you had a conversation with a hyena halfling at all. Ruggie still seemed a little wary of you, but much more comfortable with your presence than earlier.

It was a step in the right direction.

You were not looking forward to seeing Leona, but you were already in the savannah exhibit and the lions weren’t too far off. The pride’s positions were the same as this morning’s, with Leona lounging on the large rock while the other lions sat and laid on the grass beneath him. The lions were either napping, grooming their hair, or just talking quietly amongst themselves.

The lions were not frightened by you and why would they be? They had a killer bite and claws on each hand. They regarded you lazily, as if you bored them a little.

“Hello, everyone!” you did your best to not sound as terrified as you felt. None of the lions stopped what they were doing for you, continuing their actions as if you weren’t even there.

You hadn’t even noticed at first that Leona was awake, until you glanced at the rock, hoping to get a reaction from him. 

He sat up on the rock, staring at you with an impassive expression. Despite his lack of a warm welcome, your heart soared. This was your chance!

“Hi there!” you said cheerfully.

He looked down his nose at you, clearly not impressed by your greeting.

“Did you have a good nap?” you asked.

Leona continued to stare at you, unimpressed with your attempts at earning his attention.

“So, I know your name is Leona, but would you like to know mine?” you asked hopefully.

Leona’s eyes turned to the right, as though he was making a decision. Finally, he spoke in that slow, rumbling voice of his, “Whatever, I don’t care. Go ahead”

You smiled up at him, pleased that you had gotten his permission, even though he wasn’t as interested as you had hoped, “I’m (Y/n), it’s nice to officially meet you.”

Leona laid back down but didn’t close his eyes, watching you as you looked back at him.

“Did you eat your steak? I don’t want you to go hungry.”

Leona’s eyes widened a little, as though you had taken him by surprise. And maybe you had.

His gaze evaded yours as he responded to your question, “Yes, I ate it.”

“Oh good!” you smiled happily up at him.

Leona studied you closely, clearly unable to read you. Leona tilted his head and turned away from you, “Is that all you need?”

“I’ll write in my notebook, if you’d prefer me to do that.”

Leona grunted in response and closed his eyes.

DAY 1

LIONS

The lion halflings are not shy like the hyenas, but they are hesitant to talk to me. I feel as though, if I earn their king’s acceptance, I will be able to talk to them all. The king has started to talk to me, even if it was only a few words.

The lions are taller than the hyenas, most around 6 feet tall. They are easily differentiated by their lion ears and tail. There are 19 lions, with most being female, and only one cub.

Unsurprisingly, the lion halflings spend a good chunk of their time sleeping. I assume this is from the lion part of them.

“Did you want to read what I wrote?” you asked, sensing Leona’s eyes on you. Your eyes met his and he held your gaze for a few moments before growling, “I’m going to sleep.”

He flopped back down on the rock and closed his eyes again, his breathing becoming rhythmic almost right away.

You didn’t want to bother Leona when he was trying to fall asleep, so you sneaked away, sending an unrequited wave over your shoulder to the other lions. Maybe if you weren’t so determined to get out of the heat, you would have noticed the eyes boring into the back of your head.

The walk to the wolves’ exhibit was a long one. After all, you had to cross half the savannah before making it out into the back hallway meant for staff. Then, you had to push through the crowds to get to the wolf exhibit. At least the crowds weren’t too bad, since evening was on its way.

You were excited that the sun was falling. You’d be able to watch wolf halflings at their preferred time of day. After all, wolves hunted in the twilight hours.

You hoped that didn’t mean they’d see you as prey.

The exhibit door opened easily and you found yourself breathing the air in deeply. It took you a moment to discover just why you liked the wolves’ enclosure so much. Mountain air. Somehow, some way, the zoo had made the enclosure smell like the mountains. The air was even a little thinner here than it was on the pathways.

These wolf halflings must have been living in the mountains when they were brought to the zoo. The thought made your heart hurt a little. Were they offered a deal to live in captivity or were they captured and brought here by force? You didn’t like to think about it too much.

This wasn’t your battle to fight.

The keeper who fed the wolves their evening meal walked past you with full buckets. As she passed you, she gave you a word of advice, “You aren’t gonna find them all together like they are at mealtimes. They all split up, especially in the evening.”

You nodded, a little disappointed. That could make it harder to find them, much less study them. Plus, it’s not like you could look in several directions at once. This might be a little more complicated than you thought.

Or maybe it’ll be fine, you reassured yourself, trying to stay positive.

You reached a steep, downward slope and decided it was probably the best vantage point you would find. You found a nice place to sit down between a cluster of rocks and took out your binoculars. 

It took almost half an hour for you to see any movement. Down, at the base of the hill, one wolf halfling walked close to the barrier between the wolves and guests. He had his back hunched in a sort of prowl, and you realized that he was probably in hunt mode. 

Excited, you pulled out your notebook to make some notes.

Your pen froze above the paper when you heard a growl.

You slowly turned your head, and what you saw made your blood run cold. A buff wolf halfling with dark gray hair and pin-pricked ears had his lips drawn over his fangs in a snarl. He was growling so ferociously that flecks of spit flew in your direction. His yellow eyes dilated as he grew closer, back hunched as though he were ready to lunge for your throat at any moment. 

You gulped, forcing yourself to stay completely still. You were afraid, if you moved, you’d have your throat torn out before you could blink.

The wolf took one step closer, growled one last time, then lunged.

The halfling seemed to stop midair and, before you knew it, he was lying on his side in the dirt a few feet away. The cause of his sudden stop was made clear after a few terrified moments, when your eyes turned upwards.

The white-haired wolf halfling stood with his shoulder still out in front of him. You realized that he had shoulder-checked the older wolf during his attack. Shakily you smiled at him.

“Thank you so much!”

The dark-skinned halfling took a seat on one of the rocks surrounding you. You studied his features, everything from his white tail to his white ear tips. He, on the other hand, watched the older wolf warily.

The older wolf pushed himself to his feet, shaking the dirt from his clothes. His yellow eyes glared at you, but he limped off in the opposite direction, disappearing into the shadows of the trees. 

The white-haired halfling turned his attention back to you. You decided to offer your friendship to him.

“My name is (Y/n), what’s yours?”

He stared at you for a moment, before his rumbling voice said, “Jack.”

“It’s nice to meet you Jack,” you said, trying not to come across as too excited to be talking to him. You didn’t want to scare him away with your eagerness.

Jack continued to stare, his golden stare softening a little when he said, “Not safe.”

He didn’t seem to have a very good grasp on the English language, but that was understandable. It didn’t seem like the wolves were all too friendly toward humans.

“I have to stay,” you explained to Jack, hoping he would understand.

“Not safe,” Jack replied. He got up from his sitting position and crossed the distance between you in less than a second. You watched, trembling, as his one of his clawed hands took hold of the back of your shirt collar. 

You blinked owlishly as Jack began to carry you by the collar, stunned by his behavior and not wanting to tick him off by fighting. From what you could tell, he didn’t seem to want to actually hurt you, but you didn’t want to push your luck.

After a long walk, Jack set you back down on your feet. He pointed one clawed finger behind you. “Not safe.”

You turned around and, to your surprise, you were met with the exhibit door. Comprehension dawned on you. He wanted to keep you safe.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you soothed, “I have to study-”

“Not safe,” Jack responded, voice even gruffer.

You tried to come up with the perfect solution. You had to soothe Jack but you also had to do your job.

“Well, you could protect me,” you suggested.

“Pro-tect?” Jack’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, keep me safe,” you replied. Jack took a while to think that one over. Finally, he nodded.

He followed you back to your spot like an obedient puppy, but refused to sit down, choosing instead to hover over you, eyes darting in all directions.

Day 1

WOLVES

Wolf halflings tend to be around 6 feet tall, distinguishable by their wolf ears and tails. There are 12 of them in this zoo, with 6 females and males each. 

Some of the wolf halflings are very aggressive, and this seems to amplify in the evening hours, possibly because these are their hunting hours. One wolf, however, acts in a protective manner towards me.

It is interesting to note the wolf halflings appear to be in hunting mode despite just being fed.

All of the halflings, save for one, have hair and fur in different shades of gray, while one has white hair and fur.

You didn’t see any other wolves for the next few hours and you eventually decided it was time to go home. Jack shadowed you on your way to the exhibit entrance. You waved goodbye, and he mimicked the action awkwardly.

Laughing a little, you went home for the day.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

[forgeofthenine]

hhgggg the bachelors in rut was so.. well, hot lol. I remember there being a previous ask about the bachelor's reacting to the reader being turned into a tiefling.

I was wondering, how would they handle said reader going into heat/rut for the first time?

I've taken an unexpected absence from Tumblr the last couple days, between prepping for Christmas and being extremely busy at work I basically had no time or energy. I did, however, write this while half asleep and on the flight to see my family, given the amount of turbulence we had when I finished it maybe even nature wanted me to write more lol. There's luckily still more stuff to come over the Christmas break :)

@swordcreature come get your food-

TW: NSFW under the cut, ABO dynamics, overstimulation, orgasm denial, impact play mention

The bachelors when their partner goes into heat/rut for the first time

Dammon

Dammon is so good at handling any new tiefling issues you might have, even if he laughs a bit at first

"Baby, if you angle your head to the left it'll make getting that top on easier.“

What completely slipped his mind was that you'd eventually develop a heat cycle just like all other Tieflings

As soon as walks into the house after a day of working in the forge the smell hits him

The entire house smells like pure lust, even a single step into the doorway is enough for his pupils to dilate and his throat to go dry

If you weren't already preoccupied, you'd hear the way he thumps up the stairs in his desperation to get to your bedroom

The door swings open with a slam as Dammon stands in the doorway looking half crazed

The sight of you spread out on the bed with two fingers knuckle deep, back arched, is almost enough to send him straight into an early rut

It's only your small whimper of how much it hurts that brings him back out of his haze, suddenly realising how confusing this must be at first

The bed dips as he sits on the side, leaning over you and placing a warm hand on your equally hot face to get your attention

As hard as Dammon is in his pants, he does check you're okay first and makes sure you drink water before he starts anything

It doesn't matter how much you complain or accuse him of teasing you, he wants to make sure you won't pass out on him

Once he's sure you're okay, all bets are off

As soon as he can, he's folding you over yourself and taking things into his own hands, quite literally

He makes sure you get off at least once to the feeling of his rough, calloused hands as he fingers you without abandon

It's only after you've cum once (or twice, or thrice) on his fingers that he'll finally indulge you with his throbbing cock

The feeling of you squeezing around him, whimpering out his name, is enough for Dammon to finally hit his own rut

He can't keep his hands off you, low rumbled praises leaving his lips as he bites at your collarbones

His cock reaches places in you your fingers never could, the flared head and ridged underside making your mind numb with pleasure

The tiefling keeps you there in bed for hours, switching you between positions as he fucks you until you're both exhausted, panting messes

You'll be well taken care of afterwards too, Dammon easily picking up your now sated body and putting you in a nice warm bath

He eases you through your first heat as well as one can, even if he's dealing with an unexpected rut at the same time

Zevlor

This man was your living tiefling encyclopaedia long before you accidentally became a tiefling yourself

Your questions increased after the accident, though, and suddenly Zevlor is answering questions he never thought he'd have to

Such as "does this mean I'll have a heat cycle now? What'll that feel like?" Among others

The question stops him in his tracks because logically yes you would have a heat cycle now, but he can't remember ever meeting someone that wasn't born a tiefling

Zevlor does his best to prepare you for what may happen, and when you finally come up to him one day to tug at his sleeve he can already smell your heat

He's another one that makes sure you're prepared beforehand, but it's much easier with how early he catches on

Once you've had something to eat and drink he's happy to lead you over to your shared bedroom

Zevlors so sweet as he leads you through the beginning of it all, sweet kisses down your chest and gentle touches over your hips

You'll find his face between your legs soon enough, happily devouring you like a man starved

As composed and proper as the paladin is, he can't deny that he'd spend the rest of his life here giving you head if you'd let him

Your reactions and the sweet smell of your heat spur him on, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you with ease

At some point his fingers join in too, the digits and his tongue bringing you to ecstasy repeatedly

It's only after he's made you a boneless, whining mess that he'll finally resurface, asking if you'd still like more

Zevlors pupils are blown wide, cock hard and twitching in his pants, his own rut creeping up on him

Once you give him the go ahead he's already tearing off his own clothes, or what's left of them anyway

He eases his cock into you slowly despite the ample preparation, enjoying the anticipation of finally bottoming out inside of you

Every squeeze and flutter you make around him pulls a low groan from the older tiefling, his hand anchoring itself on your hip

He's gentle with you the whole time, happily restraining the part of him that wants to go rougher, to take you like a madman

Instead, he leads you both to climax over and over again, pulling orgasms out of your needy body

When you've both finally had your fill, his own cock oversensitive and going soft within you, that he finally reaches over for the pitcher of water he set out earlier

Zevlor will, once again, help you to eat and drink a little before he holds you close and runs his hands over your bare skin

It's soothing, easing you off to sleep, Zevlor knows you'll need all your energy to do this all over again tomorrow

Rolan

Despite being an extremely smart man, Rolan often forgets about his own ruts and the fact you'll now be experiencing similar absolutely eludes him

He's quite happy to go about his normal business running Ramaziths Tower and ignoring most of his basic bodily needs

That is, until you collapse while helping him with cataloguing

He'd already known you were feeling unwell, the tiefling insisting you stay close to him for the day so he can keep an eye on you, and he just barely catches you before you hit the ground

The wizard takes in your flushed face and the needy way you paw at his clothed chest, already trying to pull away his layers

A realisation runs through him, you're in heat

Going with the first thought that runs through his head, Rolan sweeps you up into his arms and misty steps you over to your bedroom door

It's a fiddly thing trying to open it with you in his arms, that is until he remembers he can simply summon a mage hand to help

Unloading you onto the bed, he finally lets you pull away his top layers, flustered as the full gravity of the situation dawn's on him

Sure, you two have fucked plenty of times before now, but it's different when your desperately tugging at him like he's the very air you breathe

It's only when you snap at him, asking what's taking him so long, that he kicks back into gear

Unlike the other Tieflings, all thoughts of water or food completely evade his mind

It's not long before he has you ass up and face down, a mage hand holding your wrist together above your head as he thrusts three fingers inside of you

Rolan is just as mean in bed as he is out of it, bringing you right to the precipice before pulling his touch away all together

It hardly matters to him that you're in heat really, he's determined to tease you before bringing you mind shattering pleasure

He doesn't take all comfort from you though, pitying you as tears start to roll down your cheeks, his tail intertwining with yours as he finally lets you cum

Anyone in the tower could've heard your scream as you finally get the pleasure your body craves, and that's just how he likes it

Rolan happily takes you properly afterwards, a hand on your ass when he sinks his hard cock deep into you with a single stroke

His own rut kicked in hours ago, the sheer realisation that you were in heat sparking it

And he keeps you there, for hours, cataloguing long forgotten as he thrusts so deep into you that you swear he's reaching your stomach

He's as rough with you as he usually is, the odd smack laid on your ass, hands near bruising your hips as he pulls you impossibly closer to him

The two of you stay there like that, a tangle of limbs, well into the night

Until neither of you even have the energy to move

Rolan does eventually use his mage hand to get you both water before he pulls your head into his chest and encourages you to try and get some sleep

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 smut #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #dammon smut #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor smut #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #rolan smut

[enkas-illusion]

(Not) Just Another Crush - Part 1/2

Fandom / Pairing: Attack On Titan / Eren x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: Fluff, fluff, A LOT of fluff, slow burn, kissing, language, slight make out, emotional edging of sorts (it will make sense)

Chapter Summary: Instead of pining over the mystery man at your gym from a distance, you decide to take matters into your own hands and talk to the guy. And you find out that Eren Jaeger, as it turns out, is akin to a man written by a woman.

Author's notes:  Hello, here’s a meet-cute type of thing for gym bro Eren cause ~I need a big boy, gimme a big boy, gimme a big big boy~; this is a 2-part story so the chapters are super lengthy. Hope you enjoy it – feel free to like, reblog or comment! Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Crush by Cigarettes After Sex

Part 1 | Part 2

To the unassuming eyes, it may look like just two people interacting – but to the ones who knew, you and the gym trainer, it was fate intervening to give you this opportunity!

“Bruh, if you don't go talk to him now…” you hear Porco, the trainer's voice as he nudges you in your crush's direction.

As you walk up to your crush you think about how stupid this idea seems. The plan was to ask him to alternate sets with you on seated rows since the gym was way too crowded. 

Honestly, the move was a bit too obvious in your opinion. But you'd set your mind to it – Today is the day you finally talk to your crush!

It had been quite some time since you'd been secretly simping over this guy so what's the harm? All the other equipment being occupied was the perfect excuse, if you had to look for one, to finally talk to him.

Since you’re usually reserved, you don’t talk to anyone at the gym. You've always been this way – doing your own thing while blasting music in your earphones and going home without ever lifting your head up.

But ever since you saw him about a month ago, your eyes had been wandering around to find him the minute you'd enter the gym, stealing glimpses whenever you could without being creepy about it. 

You decided it was just some stupid crush only because the man was ridiculously hot so it'll fade away eventually. But man, were you wrong.

When he didn't show up to the gym the whole week last week, you rushed to Porco, who's always hanging around to enquire – any semblance of subtlety thrown out the window. 

It wasn't like you were planning to make a move (god knows the only reason you didn't talk much at the gym was to avoid the occasional creeps that would try talking you up).... but the fact that it felt like a missed chance with the mystery guy left an itch and a curiosity to know more.

“...you know the one who's always wearing anime t-shirts? Long, black haired pretty dude?” You'd asked, hoping Porco would recognize your crush from your half-assed description.

When Porco was seemingly confused, you'd pestered further, “The one who always has his hair tied in a messy bun but still looks gorgeous? Nothing? Ummm- The emo dude with the perfect proportions!”

“OH! Are you talking about Eren? I can’t quite remember his last name but pretty sure you’re talking about Eren. Yeah… he's a regular– has been here for a year now.”

“How come I only saw him a month ago?”

“I think he recently switched timings to fit his work schedule or something. Maybe he shifted back to the mornings.”

Your heart sinks at the information… there goes your imaginary chance with Eren.

Eren.

You memorise his name anyway… hoping that maybe the gods would be generous enough to give you a chance to talk to him.

And they do. He shows up over the weekend and you secretly cheer that he's back during your schedule. However, another month passes by as you keep on trying to find the ‘perfect’ opportunity to talk to him. 

Which brings you to the present moment, as you walk towards him and wait at a distance while he finishes his reps. He slows down his movements nonetheless when your eyes meet, and before you can stop yourself, you wave at him before abruptly putting your hand down. 

Eren stops his movements and pulls his headphones back, his serious face breaking into a soft smile, “Hii…?”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt but would you mind alternating sets with me? I’ve been waiting for about 15 minutes…” you point at the other equipments flocked by people, “Totally cool if you can’t tho-”

“Okay,” he smiles as he does five more reps before getting up and wiping the sweat off the seat.

“Thank you,” you say as you go to adjust the weights. Your jaw almost drops when you see it's set to 80kgs. You almost want to laugh as you set it back to 15kgs.

‘Dude’s a beast, don’t compare! Upper body never was your best muscle group,’ you think to yourself. You resume your music quickly and begin your set. When you’re done, you get up to wipe the seat as well as the handlebars of the machine with your towel.

You hear a snort from behind and when you turn to look at Eren and see him give you a smile that has you weak in your knees.

“What?” you ask confused.

“Wiping the handles as well? Cute,” he answers. He can’t help but find this action considerate – Most people don’t even bother wiping the patch formed by their sweaty ass cheeks.

Even if his compliment makes you blush, you try hard to not let it show. You simply move away to signal him to the seat. He bends down to readjust the weights.

“No way you’re gonna go above 80!?” you gasp as you see him push it to 100kgs.

“The last one is always till failure,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Oh... that’s crazy, I could never. I’ve got noodle arms,” you joke.

“Didn’t you get your first full pull up a few days ago?” he asks. 

PAUSE. He’s noticed you before???

As if instantly reading your mind, he adds, “I saw you cheering and clapping your hands with Porco when you did it.”

“Oh that… sorry, I try not to bother anyone much usually,” you feel the heat rise to your cheeks out of embarrassment.

“I know, don’t be sorry, it’s a good thing to celebrate your PR… besides, Reiner has been teasing me about not making any progress lately so I need to step up my game for sure,” he laughs to himself as he gets into position.

“Reiner?” 

“That’s the huge blonde who I usually come with,” he explains. You simply nod and don’t speak further, letting him begin his set. He starts well but by the end you can tell that Eren is struggling a bit as soft cusses leave his lips, face scrunching and chest heaving as he steadies his breathing.

“Come on… 2 more.” you cheer, causing him to grunt as he finishes his set. Your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see him wipe the handles along with the seat, imitating your habit.

“Thank you.” you blush as you bend down to readjust the weights to 25kgs, “So, you’re done?”

“Yeah…” he speaks, taking small sips of water from his bottle, “I’ll see you around?” 

You nod and he smiles at you as he turns to leave, but quickly turns back again, “Shit! Sorry… What's your name?”

The blush grows even further at his question as you tell him your name and ask, “What about you?”

“I’m Eren… Eren Jaeger.”

Jaeger. Eren Jaeger.

You memorise his full name and you both say your goodbyes as you get back to your workout. Eren left way before you did, leaving no room for further conversations to occur. 

This interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed by Porco, who rushed to your side when you were stretching, “Soooo, am I your cupid yet?”

“Don’t get your hopes up… we’ll have small talks whenever we see each other at best. Nothing’s going to happen!” you lie with a straight face, but deep down you were dying to check him out on Instagram once you were in the comfort of your home.

Your crush was oh so kind to spare you the stalking when you see your phone light up with a notification later at night.

Eren_j started following you.

You almost jump up out of your bed but steady yourself to call your best friend, Annie, before you even get to checking his account.

“Guess who just followed me on ig?” you giggle when she picks up the call.

“Huh?”

“Guess. Who. Followed. Me!” you repeat.

“Darling… I need context,” she replies dryly.

“Eren… Eren followed me… the gym crush!” you squeal, killing the suspense since you knew it was too late at night for her to indulge in your guessing game.

“Waitttttt… the supposedly hot emo guy who wears anime t-shirts?” you can hear her surprising tone, “you go girl– thought you were too much of a puss-”

“Annie!” you cut her off, “What do I do? Should I text him first or just follow back?”

“NO! Always let the guy text first,” she proclaims.

“Ugh… but okay, I hear you… wouldn’t want to seem like a simp after keeping my cool for so long,” you answer back as you put her on speaker to follow him back. You see the Requested icon turn to Following within seconds.

“ANN! He accepted already,” you almost yell.

“Welp, that was fast,” she chuckles.

“Sooo,” you begin in a sweet sing-song voice, “I’m gonna go stalk his profil-”

“Yeah, alright… have a good night babe.” you hear a dramatic mwah from her. You chuckle as you bid her good night before hanging up.

As you skim through his profile, you can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that this guy actually seems to have a personality, unlike some gym bros who make ‘muscle’ their entire personality.

When you’re going through his story highlights, you see his username pop up at the top of your screen, making your heart race faster. He had replied to your story. You rush to check on your profile what you’d posted, feeling your brain malfunction as you fear it being something embarrassing and goofy.

Phew. It was just a post-workout selfie showing off your wet, sweaty t-shirt.

You open his text.

Eren_j:

Guess u got a good workout in after I left afterall.

Feeling a bit bold, you text back.

I did… would’ve been a lot more fun with you tho.

And you almost want to throw your phone away in anticipation as you see the typing icon.

Eren_j:

Be careful what you wish for. I’ve been told im a strict/difficult gym partner.

I like me a challenge :)

Eren_j:

Is that so? Guess i gotta make it particularly hard for u :)))

I’m a tough girl Eren… i think i can take it.

You swing your feet as you roll around on the bed. If you ever showed this to Annie, she’d probably call it ‘fucking cringe but cute nonetheless’. 

As the double entendre texts died down, seamless conversations kept you hooked. He was putting in equal amounts of effort to keep the conversation alive. You don’t exactly remember how you fell asleep but you remember talking to him for about two hours or so. 

And that’s how you became gym buddies. As another month had passed by, you got to know him as a friend. You want to cuss yourself since your crush has only increased tenfold ever since you’ve gotten to know him personally. 

You realise just how deceiving his looks are – on the outside, he’s this big, intimidating dude but on the inside he’s got the golden retriever energy. Eren is the perfect mix of what you’d call a serious yet laid back/chill guy.

He’s thoughtful, remembers tiny details about you, sends you songs whenever he finds one he thinks you’d like and memes that remind him of you and is a self proclaimed hopeless romantic. You could go on and on about Eren and it would still not be enough – needless to say, you were absolutely gone for him, the kind that they describe as being totally head-over-heels in movies.

And it doesn’t help that a few nights ago, when the gym was basically empty, you two almost kissed. Standing in the corridor, as you were saying your goodbyes, it felt as if he was about to lean in to kiss you before being interrupted by someone walking out the changing room, making you flee the scene, akin to a criminal being caught.

But then again, you weren’t really sure if it was just your delusion overriding the tiny bit of logic left in your romance-ridden brain.

~~~

“Eren… I can’t– fuck,” you groan as your hands shake.

“You got it, come on. You’re doing so good. One more then we’re done. Promise,” you hear his voice as his grip on your waist tightens. 

Eren supports your bodyweight as he pushes you up so that your chin is touching the pull up bar. The first few were bearable but by your 7th pull up, it’s more like he’s working his biceps rather than you working your back.

With shaky hands, you try to control your movement as you come down but your arms almost give in, causing you to slightly stumble as you drop to your feet with a light thud. His grip on your waist tightens to steady you before letting go gently.

Ever since the almost kiss, you’d been extra aware of his touches. So even his guiding touches, without any ulterior motives, have been making you feel some type of way.

You slouch slightly as you sit against a wall in the corner, sipping your water. You close your eyes to calm your breathing as you feel your arms burn. You groan as you realise you’re going to be super sore tomorrow morning.

“Good job bub,” he snickers. You open your eyes to see him bend down in front of you to pat your head lightly.

“I give up… you win, you are a ruthless gym partner.”

“Aww… I'm flattered,” he jokes further.

You roll your eyes as you swat his hand away from your head.

“Let me make it up to you, I’ll give you a massage. How about that?” he adds jokingly, though you know he wouldn’t mind actually giving you one if you ask him nicely.

“You better! I’m not going to be able to make dinner tonight!” you reply as you hold your arms out limply in front of him.

“Then don’t. Let me make you dinner,” he says, taking the opportunity.

“For real?” you ask, taken by surprise by his sudden yet tempting offer.

“Yeah? Got any plans for tonight?”

“No… let’s do it. I'm in,” you agree before demanding, “but, I want that massage as well.”

“Done… my massages can put those Thai spas to shame,” he boasts.

“Are you overselling yourself Jaeger?” you tease him, “it’s often disappointing when reality doesn’t match the hype.”

“You’re gonna eat your words later… I’ve been told I’ve got magic fingers.” he retorts, his cocky smirk wider than ever. You roll your eyes as you grab your things before getting up. 

“That’s for me to decide,” you poke him further, “... the food better be worth the 7 pull ups.”

Surprisingly he doesn’t have a witty comeback in his arsenal this time. You simply hear a low chuckle escape his lips and it’s somehow more mischievous than whatever clever words he would’ve spoken otherwise.

You’d never been to his place before, meaning it took a few minutes for your brain to register that you were going to Eren fucking Jaeger’s place! In the changing room, you freshen up as much as you can to try to not look like a sweaty mess. You change into a pair of jeans and a jumper, slinging the gym bag over your shoulder before giving yourself one last look in the mirror and walking out to meet him near the entrance of the gym.

As you walk out, you see him waiting for you on his bike, securing the helmet on his head. He’s changed into a pair of loose jeans and a denim jacket over his t-shirt. Even when you’d seen his ride for the first time, Eren being a biker never surprised you since it felt very on-brand for him. 

Imagine him picking you up for a date, waiting on his bike with a bouquet of tulips in hand. Ehe. 

You snap out of your daydream when he holds out the other helmet in front of you. You lean your head down when he motions you to do so and he puts the helmet on you.

“Where did the second one come from?” you wonder out loud.

“I had planned to take you home tonight from the start,” he winks.

You snort as you slide the visor of his helmet down his face. You hear his laugh as he adds, “Porco let me borrow his, apparently he keeps an extra one in the cabin for god-knows-what.”

“I guess I really might need to call Porco a cupi–” you freeze midway.

“Hmm?” 

“A good trainer.” you correct yourself, and you’re pretty sure it was far from convincing but Eren decides not to tease you about it. You’re 99.99% certain he heard it – maybe he just wants to save you the embarrassment, you think to yourself.

You hop onto his bike and hesitantly rest your hands on his sides not wanting to seem awkward by straight up hugging him from behind. However, he straightens his back as he grabs the top of your hands, pulling them to the front to wrap them around his waist. You smile to yourself as you rest your cheek on his back and hug your arms around him steadily.

The ride back to his place is barely 10 minutes long. You miss being so close to him as soon as you get off the bike in the parking lot. He parks and guides you to his apartment holding your wrist gently. It’s not a complete holding-hands-fingers-intertwined but that has never stopped you from overanalyzing things, has it?

You take in your surroundings when you enter the apartment and it doesn’t stand out much. It looks like any normal dude’s apartment, except it’s cleaner – probably more than your own.

“Wow, your apartment is clean,” you comment.

“You’re hurting me babe. Did you expect me to live like a savage just cause I’m a guy.”

“No, no… I’m sorry it came out wrong–” you try to clarify but he interrupts.

“Kidding! I know it’s cleaner than usual. I live with Reiner and Levi… while Reiner and I aren’t really shabby, Levi really can’t tolerate a dirty house,” Eren explains.

“Oh, that must be exhausting, no?”

“Not really. That was Levi’s one condition when Reiner and I went to him in search of a third flatmate so we agreed.”

“Ah, makes sense. Are they here?” you ask, curiously as you hang your bag near the coat rack and take off your shoes. Eren returns to your side, having locked the door and keeping all his things in their designated places. 

“Nah. Reiner’s out of town on a work trip for like two weeks and Levi’s gone home for a few days as well,” he answers as he shrugs off his jacket, folding it before placing it on the side table.

You can’t help but find it cute that he keeps the place neat so diligently, being considerate of others… but then again, you’ve been finding all of Eren’s actions cute lately.

“... so it’s just us here tonight.” he says flirtatiously.

“Good thing, I’d hate to share food now… I’m hungry,” you say, dodging it. Usually, you’d flirt back but the two of you being alone at his place suddenly feels so real – anything could happen. You chicken out – there may be a possibility that he likes you back but there could ALSO be a possibility of him only liking you as a friend.

“‘Ight, what would you like to have?” he asks as you follow him to the kitchen. 

“Surprise me… nothing too fancy though.” 

“Phew… I was actually hoping for that answer since I’d prepared the dough for burger patties,” he admits sheepishly as he washes his hand and puts on the apron. You lean against the opposite counter to let him cook in peace without any hindrance. 

“Do you want my hel-”

“OH– just a min,” he interrupts you as he hurries out of the kitchen. You blink in confusion as you follow him out to check on the guy and find him connecting his phone to the speaker.

A soft song plays through the speaker loudly and he walks towards you as if just now he’s truly ready to take on kitchen duties. 

“It’s my cooking playlist,” he smiles.

He’s so fucking cute. For fucks sake!

When you ask him again if he wants your help, he declines saying ‘the only thing you need to do tonight is compliment my amazing skills.’

So you watch him work while chatting away about random things. It doesn’t take long for him to prepare the patties and heat the buns, adding copious amounts of veggies with melting cheese on top of it. He presents it with a ‘Tada!’ and you clap at his presentation with a dramatic ‘Bravo!’

When you taste the first bite, you almost moan at how delicious it is. The burger is huge, juicy and has the right balance of crispy and soft with spicy, sweet and sour. You close your eyes, delving into the heavenly taste.

You open your eyes to see Eren devouring his own burger, unfazed by the masterpiece that he’d created as if it were something ordinary to him.

“Eren!” you squeal, “if this is what I get to eat after, I might just do a hundred pull-ups from tomorrow.”

Eren chuckles at this, licking the cheesy sauce that had trickled down his fingers, “Told ya I only brag when I know I’m good.”

“I’m serious! This is too good,” you add, taking another bite. 

“I know… thank you,” Eren smiles, clearly amused at the way you’re enjoying his burger. And in that moment, a thought crosses his mind – he’d make you dinner every night if it meant that he got to be the reason for you to feel such bliss.

Neither of you talk much till you finish eating. Your reason being wanting to relish in the taste with full concentration and Eren’s reason being not wanting to disturb your peace.

When you’re done, you clear out the plates and Eren cleans the table. As you’re walking out of the kitchen, you hear a familiar tune playing when he resumes the songs on his playlist.

You recognize it – Dope Lovers by DPR IAN.

“I love this song!” you exclaim as you walk towards him. The tension you’d felt at the beginner has almost dissipated and feeling a little courageous, you extend an arm out to him to dance.

He tosses his phone on the sofa before taking your hand to pull you closer to him. You sway your body to the rhythm as you mumble some of the lyrics.

“Is it the art or the artist that you like?” he teases.

“Well, you can’t deny that he isn’t hot… There’s something about DPR Ian, he’s soooo–” you pause to think about the right word to use before concluding, “– babygurl.”

“Babygurl?” Eren laughs as he rests his arms at your hips, “What does that even mean?”

“It’s like daddy –  it’s a state of mind,” you joke but then you purse your lips as you really think about how to explain this endearing slang to Eren, “Babygurl is when a man is so comfortable in his masculinity that he isn't scared of embracing his soft side and being gentle. A man who knows that kindness is strength. Someone who looks so tough but is far from toxic. A man who’s a gentleman in the true sense of the word… does that make sense?”

“Hmm, I think so…” he nods, “Who else is babygurl?”

“You are, Eren,” you smile and lift your hands up to move to his neck but stop when you feel a weird stiffness in your shoulders, “ow, it’s sore already.”

“Okay, let’s give you that massage!” he declares with a booming laugh, taking your hands in his and guiding you to the sofa. He sits you down with your back facing him and gently taps near your lower back to signal you to sit up straight.

“Relax your shoulders,” you hear him speak softly as his hands move up to your shoulders but he pauses his movement. He lifts his hands to comb his fingers through your locks and you jerk slightly when his fingers touch your neck in the process.

“Eren, what are you doin-” you giggle as you turn your head to look at him. 

“Shh, stay still,” he murmurs, knitting his eyebrows in concentration. His hair falls down, framing his face as he takes out his hair tie. You turn to look to the front as he runs his fingers to gather all your loose strands together once again. You feel him gently pull at your hair as he secures it with his hair tie.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for mine. It’s in my bag,” you chuckle.

“Too lazy,” he replies as his hands begin to massage your back gently. He alternates between pressing his thumbs down the length of your spine and pressing his palms flat to cover the entire area, sliding his hands down in slow pressured movements. You slouch in his touch and his hands move up to your shoulder blades to massage the area in circular motion.

“Mmm, Eren– that feels so good,” you breathe out, skin feeling like wax that could melt into his hands at any moment. You’re certain you’d fall asleep in a few minutes if he continued doing this any longer.

Eren changes his movement to bring up his fingertips to your nape, dragging them gently over the expanse of your neck, his fingers dancing over your skin as he dips them under the collar to trace your skin. This causes you to let out an involuntary whimper and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment when his touch comes to a halt.

You’re pretty sure he can see the goosebumps pricking on the surface of your skin and you mumble a soft ‘sorry’ as you create some space between to turn around to face him completely. Your eyes meet and you’re smiling at him awkwardly but he has a poker face. 

He gets up abruptly, breaking eye contact as he hurries towards the kitchen. You look at him, confused and are about to ask him why he was acting that way but he speaks up before you do.

“Want anything to drink? Something sweet for dessert?”

“Umm… okay,” you mutter, still confused.

“Anything specific?” he enquires.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot coffee,” you request, smiling as you abandon your previous thought.

“Coffee? At night?” he counters, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s my talent. I can sleep like a baby no matter how strong the coffee is.”

“Hmmm… Would you like to try the Eren Jaeger Special where I mix loads of chocolate with coffee and cream?”

“So, basically a mocha?” you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

“Yes or no?” he says with narrowed eyes.

“Yes,” you laugh and he rolls his eyes as he turns around, disappearing into the kitchen.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you hear his approaching footsteps after a few minutes. You close your phone as you turn your head to look up at him as he walks towards you with two steaming mugs in hand.

As soon as he places one of the mugs on the table, you pick it up instantly. He sits down in front of you to clink your mugs together with a ‘cheers’. You both take tiny sips together and your eyes widen at the frothy sweet and bitter taste. 

“If you get me addicted, you’ll have to be the one to meet the demands too, just sayinggg…'' you blow over the surface and take another sip.

“Yes ma’am, I’d gladly oblige to all of your demands,” he winks before taking another sip from his mug. You try to hide your growing smile with your mug. For the rest of the conversation you try to change the subject from the two of you to literally anything else you can find – and Eren being the great conversationalist that he is, is talking about each topic just as enthusiastically.

“Aww man, the last of the coffee’s gone cold.” you swirl the liquid in the mug.

“Chug! Chug! Chug!” Eren fake yells, already having finished his. You raise one fist up as you gulp the last of your coffee down in one go and slam the mug down on the cushion. Feeling the frothy stache over your upper lip, you lick it off, laughing along with him.

“There’s still some left…” Eren mumbles, pointing at his own mouth to show the spot. Before you have a chance to wipe it, he swipes his thumb over the corner of your lips before bringing it to his lips to lick it off. It’s such a simple act yet it has the butterflies in your stomach going rampant.

“Hey, that was mine,” you try to feign offence but it comes out more desperate than you’d intended as you stare at his lips a little too longer than friends are supposed to. 

He cups your face with both his hands as his gaze deepens before his eyes move down to your lips. Your breath hitches as you see him instinctively wet his lips. He leans in to move closer till your faces are just inches away.

“Then take it back agai–” he’s rudely interrupted by the sound of the front door opening with a loud thud. You pull back abruptly to create some space between the two of you. You see Eren’s jaw clench as he closes his eyes briefly in an attempt to keep his cool.

“REINER MY BROTHER– oh,” you see a man enter the living room with a large backpack.

“Jean.” Eren says, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“Eren. Where’s Reiner?” Jean asks as he looks at the two of you.

“Did he not tell you that he wasn’t gonna be at home for a while?” Eren answers, and you’re almost surprised at how cold his tone is.

“Yes? But I figured he'd leave after seeing me?” Jean retorts.

“And why would he do that?” Eren asks just as coldly.

“Since he said I was welcome to stay in his room while I was in town? Even told me to use the key y'all keep in the space behind the nameplate,” the man explains.

“Great! It's amazing how my roommate fails to tell me about shit like this.” Eren mutters but smiles at the guy nonetheless, “His room is unlocked… feel free to make yourself at home I guess.”

“Thanks. Have fun, I guess,” Jean half salutes Eren, giving you both a smug smile, feeling the satisfaction of having cockblocked his friendly foe. He leaves you two alone, making his way to Reiner’s room. Once you watch him disappear, you turn to check your phone for the time.

This time it was real! You’re not delusional, he really was about to kiss you!

You silence the voice in your head. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that Eren seemingly likes you but he can’t seem to make a move or at least declare his feelings with certainty. And there’s no way in hell you’d confess first since it’s pretty evident you like him, you’ve dropped enough hints over a month’s time – you want him to be the one to do it first.

“It’s late, I better get going,” you make an excuse as you stand up, gathering your things as you prepare to leave. Your cheeks feel hot and you give him a small smile, feeling a bit too flustered to carry on a conversation at this point.

“Let me drop you home,” he offers quickly as he stands up with you.

“My apartment isn’t far from here.”

“It's late,” he adds. You consider it and nod your head. He smiles as he grabs his keys along with his own two helmets this time.

The ride home is quick so neither of you bother with small talk. Once he parks in the parking lot of your apartment building, he tilts his bike to make it easier for you to get off. He gets off the bike, gently taking your helmet off and placing it on the bike. As you fix your hair, he takes his helmet off as well, placing it next to yours.

You slightly shuffle on your feet as you prepare to say your goodbyes. When he turns back to look at you, you smile earnestly. 

“I had a fun time tonight… despite you being a meanie at the gym.” you try to lighten up the tension.

“Only for you bub,” he jokes back, making finger-hearts at you.

“Good night, Eren.” you laugh as you wave at him and turn to walk away. You barely take a step when you hear him say your name.

“Hmm?” you turn around to look at him again. He doesn’t speak but takes one long stride to close the distance between you, wrapping his hands around your waist. As if on instinct, you drop your bag to the ground and place your hands on his shoulders, looking up at him as your breath hitches in your throat again.

He brings his left hand up to your cheek, dipping his head down to kiss your lips without any further delay. His wider frame envelopes yours as the hand on your cheek snakes back to hold your head in place as he deepens the kiss. You wrap both your hands around his neck, standing on your tippy toes for better access while his lower hand wraps around your waist even tighter.

When your lips finally part to catch your breaths, he looks you in the eye, smiling contently. Your legs feel giddy from the high you’re experiencing and you’re glad he’s still holding you flush against his body.

“I’d been dying to do that ever since I laid my eyes on you… figured it’d be pretty stupid of me to let the opportunity go twice in a row,” he confesses, dipping his head down again to kiss you once again.

You’re surprised, your brain reeling at the information but you close your eyes nonetheless, getting lost in the feeling of his lips moving against yours.

“Yeah, it would’ve been pretty stupid,” you smile when he pulls back. You pull him down by the collar to give him a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you for not wasting any more chances.”

You run your hands through his loose strands and he hums as he closes his eyes. You pull him down for another deep kiss. His tongue invades your mouth and he squeezes your ass as he pulls your body further closer to his. When you feel his boner from under his clothing, it causes you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands move down his sides, lowering further but he stops your movement with his own hands holding your wrists firmly. He pulls away from the kiss, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. His hot breath fans your face as he speaks, “It’s taking everything in me to not come up to your place to fuck you right now.”

“Then do it,” you mewl desperately as you kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss but breaks it once again to speak, “No, I wanna do this right. Let me take you out on a real date first… tomorrow evening?”

You feel your cheeks burn up as you bite your bottom lip to contain the grin threatening to give away your excitement as you nod. You stand on your toes once again to give him a quick peck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, enveloping you into a comforting hug.

“Take this with you,” he mumbles as he goes to grab a helmet. He leans down to grab your bag from the floor, handing both the items to you.

“Good night Eren,” you smile. He cups your face with both his hands and leans down to kiss you again – it’s brief but passionate.

“Good night baby,” he smiles as he lightly smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. Before you can scold him, he gives you a hasty kiss before making his way to his bike. You walk to the elevator and press the button, turning to look back at him as he secures his helmet.

He starts the bike but waits till he sees you enter the elevator. Just as the door closes, you catch a glimpse of him leaving. You lean back against the railing, covering your face with your hands, not really believing what had just occurred. 

The man you’d been pining over for months had been crushing over you all along too. 

Eren Jaeger never was just another unrequited crush – and come tomorrow, he’s going to mean a lot more than just a friend.

#erensbirdie #aot x reader #aot x you #aot #aot smut #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger

[ayanominitrash]

Act Cool, Senpai! (Geto Suguru x reader)

₊˚ ♡

Geto-san takes a liking to his cute kouhai, He wonders if he looks good to you.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

2nd Entry.

First part here. Third part here. Masterlist.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Nowadays, Geto finds himself taking a longer time fixing his hair in the mirror.

Usually, he’d tie his hair up in a bun once, fix a few strands here and there, grab his school bag, and leave. But it was his fourth time trying to tame his dark locks and he hadn't even realizes it until he was getting mildly frustrated at himself. 

He stops.

Geto lets his arms down to rest for a moment while looking back at the pair of small eyes in the mirror. What's gotten into him? He was never the type to worry about his looks. Sure, he's more of the concerned hygienic type - he's more concerned with being clean and smelling good - which are just common sense, rather than thinking if people thought his hair bun was tied up in the right way or not. 

No, not people. He's suddenly thinking of you, tilting your head to the side, "Geto-san, your hair's a mess today."

He shakes his thoughts away.

No, looks were more like something Gojo would concern himself with. He recalls the time when his classmate would be all up in his face, bearing his teeth and asking him if they all looked perfectly aligned. He groans at the memory.

Suddenly, the door to his dorm room slides open to reveal the said classmate, his shoulders slouched with the weight of his eyelids. He looks half awake.

"Suguru...? Why weren't you outside my dorm yet?" Gojo yawns.

"I was just about to get you, you know." He starts doing his hair again, this time not bothering to look in the mirror. "I was just...uh, looking for my hair tie."

"Oh, okay. By all means, please, take your time. I'm not very eager to go see our mutt-looking sensei."

"Satoru, that's not very nice." 

The other blows a raspberry at him.

Geto finishes tying his hair up and collects his things. He pauses and looks at Gojo right when he is just about to pass him through the doorway.

"What?"

"Satoru, how do I look?"

Geto's simple question was met with a wide-eyed Gojo, staring at him with what looked like a bewildered expression - like he had done something as strange as turn his head all the way back like an owl would.

"I mean,” Gojo finally starts, “...you look with your eyes."

The raven-haired teen glares daggers at him.

"I don't know man, what do you want me to say?! You look...the same? I don't know. Why? Did you do something with your face or? Gasp! - did you finally use that face cream I was talking about? Is it good?"

At this point, he was continuously bombarded with follow-up questions about a skin care product Geto paid no mind to, along with him being rocked back and forth by the tall man's hands on his shoulders. Geto eventually swats his arms off of him.

"Forget it, you’re no help at all."

₊˚ ♡

The third period comes by and Geto internally curses at himself when he hasn’t had the time to check himself in between classes, because here you are, already standing at the doorway. He hears his heartbeat in his ears as he watches how your face shows your confusion mixed with a bit of nervousness, eyes darting around the room.

“Hello, excuse me. . . “ You speak up in a small voice. “But may I know where Ieiri-san is?” 

Gojo lifts his head from where it was resting in his arms, “I’ll tell you if you gots some candy on ya.”

“Satoru,” Geto warns. His classmate was notoriously known for messing with his juniors. Not even his seniors were safe. 

“Whhhaatt? I’m just talking to her. Hey, you. Don’t just stand there, come in here.”

Feeling self-conscious, he sinks further into his seat as you take up on Gojo’s offer, hesitantly strolling next to your senior as he removes his arms from the teacher’s table.

“No, seriously, you got candy on you? I’m bored out of my mind here.”

“Only if you tell me where Ieiri-san is.” You put air on your left cheek, making you look like a chipmunk. 

Geto just might die from how adorable you look.

“Well - “

“She was called to the infirmary by Yaga-sensei,” He finally cuts in, much to Gojo’s dismay. “A few of the Junior Sorcerers came back from a mission and need medical attention so she was called in on short notice.”

“You’re no fun, Suguru.” 

“Oh, I see. . . “ You drift off, looking at him then somewhere out the window. “I guess I’ll go to class on my own then. Thank you. Also, here,” You hand a few pieces of peppermint candy to Gojo, who immediately snatches them away from you. 

“None for me?” Geto teases. 

You smile and then approach his seat.

Act cool, Geto thinks. Act cool - shit. 

“Here you go, senpai. I have a lot more so you can have this much.” You cup the few pieces of candy in both of your hands, presenting them to the raven-head, to which he reaches a palm out to accept them. At the exchange, he can see how his one hand is much bigger compared to your two small ones. He also notices how soft and clean yours looks. He also doesn’t miss the way a shiver runs up his skin when your fingers graze his.

Your senior looks up at you with that gentle smile of his, “Aren’t you sweet? Thank you for this.” 

He feels a bit guilty taking these from you when he’s not much of a sweet tooth himself - he only learned to eat sweets through Gojo - but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to keep these treats in his pockets and carry them around forever.

Is that weird? 

“You know what? How about I walk you to class as a way of saying thank you?”

Gojo groans, “Noooooo, don’t leave me heeerre - “

“Shut up, Satoru.”

You flail your hands in front of you,” Ah - Geto-san, t-that’s real nice of you b -but you don’t need to! It’s okay. Plus, you might be late to your next class.”

Geto can only smile at you as a facade of his nervousness, “It’s okay, there’ll be a delay since our next teacher might be aiding in the Junior’s mission reports. I’m also gonna need to stretch my legs.”

“Okay…” You look down at your shoes and twiddle with your hands. “Well then, if it’s alright with you, then I don’t mind the company.”

“Are you just gonna leave me here then?”

With a tsk, he gives Gojo his phone, “Go play games on my phone.” 

“What am I, a kid? You think I’m just gonna - ooooh you got a few new ones in here.” 

Now that Gojo’s distracted, he takes the opportunity to put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to start walking out of the classroom.

“Let’s go?” 

You start to nod only to freeze for a moment, staring at something over his head. Without warning, you reach a hand up and pat down a stray hair from on top of Geto’s head. It was like you were giving him head pats. It was his turn to freeze.

“There. Let’s go, Geto-san.”

I think I should mess my hair up a bit more. 

₊˚ ♡ - - - -

Later that day. . .

“Kento, Geto-san was so cool today. He troubled himself to walk me to my next class.”

“So?” 

“Isn’t our senapi so nice?”

Your classmate Nanami, only shrugs at you, never tearing his eyes away from the book he was reading.

“You’re so cold.”

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere

//

Very happy my last post was so well received <3 idk how I feel about this 2nd part tho but I hope you enjoyed reading// ❛ ֊ ❛„)♡

#jjk geto #jjk ieiri #jjk gojo #jujustu kaisen #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #fanfic #kouhai #fluff #geto fluff #senpai #nanami kento #haibara yu

[luxaofhesperides]

Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband. 

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage. 

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends. 

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well. 

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it. 

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?” 

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues. 

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well. 

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach. 

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already. 

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well. 

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants! 

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together. 

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all. 

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #it was such a struggle to keep this one short but i WILL do it. it will stay below 3k words. i promised myself this #wasnt too sure what the surprise husbands trope was so i winged it lol. i hope you enjoy reading this anyways!! #its all about choosing love and choosing each other and taking care of each other in a bad situation #turning it into something good and soft and kind bc neither of u want to hurt each other and its nice to have someone always by ur side #its abt choosing each other every day!! #these two are out here speed running love while doing it backwards. icons. #thanks for the prompt!!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Come Back - Daniel Ricciardo

<word count - 663>

Yet again, another morning that you had to get out of bed. It may have been winter break for Daniel, but not for you. You still had to work. The sun had just barely risen as you checked the clock on your bedside table. 7:00. 

You clambered out of bed, hearing a grumble from behind you. "Baby, come back..." Daniel mumbled, patting the empty space beside him. He opened one eye to peek at you as you stood in the doorway and looked at him. 

"I've got to go," you chuckled as he rubbed his eyes, even if he was still half asleep. 

"No you don't, come back," he whined, opening his arms to you as a signal to snuggle back up with him. He had always maintained that you could quit your job and he'd pay for you to live, but you liked having a sense of independence.  

"I'll be back later," you smiled, turning to walk downstairs. Behind you, you heard the rustling of the sheets and footsteps on the wooden flooring. "Go back to bed, Daniel," you laughed, knowing he'd just come and sit in the kitchen with you and beg you not to leave. 

"No," he flatly stated, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and stopping you in your tracks. "You're not going," he said into your ear, then pressed his face into the crook of your neck as the two of you stood there. 

"I've got to go," you reiterated, trying to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was to no avail. "Daniel, come on, love," you tried to coax him off, but he still wasn't for budging. 

"Staying in bed with me for five more minutes won't make you late," he mumbled against your neck, knowing you'd cave eventually. But you feared that if you went back to bed, you really wouldn't end up going to work. 

You sighed, leaning back against his chest. "Is that a yes?" he asked, and you could feel his triumphant smirk against your skin. 

"Yeah, it's a yes to five more minutes," you told him. Within the blink of an eye, he had picked you up bridal style and started walking you back to your bedroom. "I can walk myself, you know," you chuckled, snaking your arms around his neck. 

"Why should you walk when I can carry you? Besides, I like having you in my arms," he plainly stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. You just shook your head, thinking that you probably should have guessed that that would be his answer. 

Gently placing you back down in bed, he wasted no time with crawling in beside you and pulling you as close to him as he possibly could. He tugged the covers over the two of you, and instantly felt much more content and calm. 

"Your five minutes has begun," you told him, and he just grunted in response. That basically meant he hadn't listened to a word you said. Well, he had selective hearing at times, and now was one of them. He would simply choose to ignore your countdown. 

The feeling of having him right there next to you was wonderful, and you couldn't think of anything that would make you more comfortable. It was the feeling of pure safety, contentment, the feeling of home. 

You shuffled to reach for your phone on the bedside table. "No, it's barely been a minute," he scolded, tugging you back.

"I'm calling in sick," you told him, and his arms loosened around you, but he still kept his hands on your waist. 

"That's my girl," he smiled, glad that his plans had worked. He knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew he'd get you to stay home with him one way or another. Now, you'd get to spend the rest of your day, lounging around with the man you loved, and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

A/N - I have finished Reckless Driving, What A Shame Part 2 (a request), two more Lando things, one Charles thing and a... Wait for it... Charlos thing. I couldn't help myself. I've been doing this thing over the past few weeks where I've just written little bits when I have time, and it's wracked up into all this being finished. But recently, my down time hasn't been watching TV or whatever, it's been writing. Henceforth, you've seen a little more from me. This is just a short little thing I felt like whipping up, so hope you enjoyed. Requests are open as usual.

Also, can we just appreciate the beauty of this beige mum looking ass header? I can't lie, I kinda love it. Not quite as good as the one I did for Watch Your Mouth, in my opinion, but it's still pretty nice. Anyway, love you lots, have a brilliant day/night, and stay safe 💖

|masterlist|

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x you #f1 x y/n #fluff #formula 1 x y/n #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo #dr3 x reader #dr3 x y/n #dr3 x you #dr3 imagines #dr3 fluff

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 1)

Word Count - 3k 

Summary - Doc (y/n) is a medic at a base camp when they meet Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley, when they meet for a second time it is because he’s been injured. During the two weeks it takes him to fully recover they develop an unspoken friendship. Simon’s next assignment is to escort a convoy across enemy lines, which would have been a walk in the park if they weren’t a part of that convoy. Even worse is when his worries and fears become real. 

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Trauma, Opioids (they’re prescribed but i just want to add this in case), Slow Burn, Eventual Smut  

A/N -  im working on part 2 rn but it may take a little time for me to finish and upload but im in the middle of finals and have been busy with studying so please forgive me  

Masterlist  ❤︎  Tag List Form

The first time Ghost came through your tent he was bringing in his comrade, Soap, for medical attention. It was a gunshot to the arm but nothing detrimental. A clean shot and the bullet had gone right through.

Ghost had remained quiet and observant but answered any questions you had about the wound. 

“When did this happen?” 

“Half an hour ago. Give or take.”  

“Any meds?” 

“Shot of adrenalin.” 

You had sewen up the gunshot and nursed Soap back to health. However, Mr.MacTavish had been a difficult patient and after a week you discharged him early just to get him out of your hair. On multiple occasions you caught him trying to escape, claiming he was fine and ready for combat at least once a day. Most special ops were deluded like that, most thought they were superhumans. In a way, they kind of were with the speed at which they recovered. You would never tell them that. It would just go to their head.   

Your tent has since been upgraded to a deployable field hospital. With a total of 50 beds and 15 staff members. 

The second time Ghost made his way your way was on a stretcher. It was a deep and disturbing stab wound to his side, and if it were even an inch deeper it would have punctured his lung. It took you the whole two weeks he needed for recovery to get the full story out of him. Apparently, it was a series of unfortunate events which resulted in a hand-to-hand scrabble. He’d dominated his opponent and came out victorious but not without injury. He’d been all on his own for hours before finally making it to Exfil. In those few hours, he lost a lot of blood and was without any sort of analgesic until he was in the helicopter on his way here. Whatever the field medic had given him for the pain was enough to completely incapacitate the beast of a man. All the same, it was doing its job and controlling the pain. Your team had to do an emergency surgery at the base camp because he wasn’t stable enough for a medivac to a major hospital. 

The man was in a foul mood when he awoke the next day. He wasn’t rude and uncivilized, but he made it clear the last place he wanted to be was bedbound in a field hospital. When it was mentioned he was going to be sent back home for recovery, he downright refused.  

Strangely enough, it was also the first time you saw his entire face. When he first came in you were so amped on adrenalin and stressed that you didn’t register that his mask had been removed. It was immediately established that no other personnel apart from the small 3-man team already working on him would be allowed to interact with him to ensure his identity remained confidential. It was more for their safety than his if everyone was being candid. Even in his charts any identifiers were redacted and replaced with “John Doe”. 

Two days post-op he insisted he be relocated to his barracks because he “could handle his own”. You compromised and told him you’d allow it under the one condition that he lets you come and check on him at least once a day. He did, but he didn’t exactly have a choice either because you would have shown up anyway. 

That was where you were right now. 

You knocked and waited for a response before letting yourself in, your supplies and kit in hand. It was just after noon when you arrived. You scanned his room. It was clean, almost barren. His blinds were half open, and the window cracked to let in the cool, fresh air. The clothes he was wearing when he came wounded were still in the biohazard bag we gave him when he left. The tray of food on the desk beside his bed was left untouched, and judging by the food variety it was from breakfast. 

Upon hearing your arrival Ghost had forced himself into a sitting position. His face flushed with the change of position. His dark eyes were rimmed red from a lack of sleep, and his facial hair was growing. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants with the insignia of his old company and a plain black shirt. The shirt was loose and thin, but it did nothing to hide the muscle hiding underneath.   

You rolled your eyes, blew out a breath, tossed your bag onto the bed beside him and pulled out the rolling chair at his desk to sit in front of him. 

“You look like shit,” you knocked his elbow in a silent demand to lift his arm. 

He grimaced but did it without complaint, “Ya, well I feel like shit.” 

You lifted his shirt to get a look at the bandage underneath. There wasn’t any shadowing or blood seeping through so you gave him a quick nod before dropping the shirt, “Have you taken anything?” 

He jerked his chin to the little orange bottle on his desk, “One of those.” 

You picked it up to read the label, Oxycodone 10 mg OD.  

“Nice, but you should be taking it with food,” you tilted your head in the direction of the untouched food. He merely shrugged, his eyes weary. His eyes turned the same golden brown of a whiskey glass in the sunlight.  

You discreetly took his respiratory rate before moving on, “Any side effects? Nausea? Headache? Upset stomach?”  

“Nope,” he said in exasperation. He leaned back onto his elbows, his long body stretching out across the width of the bed with his legs still hung over the side in preparation for you to change his dressings. 

You gave him an unimpressed look, before pointing to the garbage bin he had at his bedside. There wasn’t anything in it but it was placed here in preparation,  “If you aren’t going to be compliant I’m going to bring you back to the infirmary.”   

“It came and went already. I’m fine,” he moved to lift his shirt, hinting at you to hurry up get the dressing change done and leave. 

You scooted the chair closer, preparing your materials and supplies on his bedside table. When you removed the bandage and revealed the stitches you clicked your tongue, he hadn’t pulled any of them but the fact that it was still bleeding made it apparent he’d been more active than he should have been. 

“How’s it lookin’ down there, Doc?” He rolled, his gaze following your movements with predatory grace. You glowered at the nickname. 

You hummed, “Mhm.” and started cleansing the wound with saline before donning gloves and cleaning it more thoroughly. He hissed at the contact and you looked up, he had pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. His body tensed, and his muscles taut. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. Alluring even. Especially when he was in this position, and had that look on his face.  

“Are you going to survive?” You asked pulling back slightly.

“Just cold s’all.” 

He made it through the rest of the dressing change without so much as a flinch. In fact, he might have fallen asleep near the end for a second. He didn’t open his eyes until you finished securing the gauze with the last piece of tape. His lids were heavy and his mouth was pulled down into a slight frown. 

“You going to eat lunch?” you tugged off your gloves and threw them into the bin beside you. 

He nodded sluggishly and laid back on the bed, folding his hands over his abdomen. Maybe the Oxycodone was making him drowsy, but he looked like he desperately needed rest. 

“Did you sleep well last night?” You rolled back on the chair, giving him space. He shook his head. You quickly finished cleaning up any remaining supplies or trash before filling out his chart, “Maybe if you didn’t keep reopening your wound you’d be healing faster and sleep better.”     

He replied with a quiet, almost boyish chuckle, “I’ve been behaving, don’t worry.” 

“You’ve been nothing but extra paperwork,” you retort, tapping his leg with your foot. You stood with a snap of your notebook. “What do you want to drink with your lunch?” 

“Just water,” his eyes remained closed and you made your way for the door, bringing his cold breakfast with you. 

You returned with a new tray of food, this time you picked foods that would be easy on the stomach. The damn fool must have smelt it as you walked down the hall with it because before you could knock he was opening the door and stepping aside to let you in. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tapped his shoulder as you passed. 

He seemed to perk up at the brief contact, “As always.” 

You placed his tray on the table before picking up your bag to get ready to leave for the day, “Any last request?” When you turned to face him your cheeks heated at the way he regarded you. His face softened, melting into something akin to respect. He was so expressive and you didn’t think he was aware. Perhaps it was because he had grown accustomed to the protection of his mask. You almost didn’t wait for his answer before taking your leave, making an excuse that you needed to report back. You did, but it wasn’t anything urgent, you just needed to get out of his room. Away from him. If only to remember how to breathe. 

The process for the following two weeks was the same, only each day you stayed a little longer. You talked a little more. Despite his reputation, he was… normal. He was a little aloof and standoffish at times, and horribly, criminally unfunny, but he grew on you. You were slightly upset and maybe even a little scared you’d never see him again when you officially discharged him. Even worse, you were scared to see him again. Only, every time he returned from a mission he would come to pay you a visit. You might have considered calling him a friend. Might have considered wanting more from him.  

Soap would sometimes occupy Simon, having made a connection with you of his own. A different type of connection, but a wholesome one. Soap had made a jest about just recruiting you as the 141’s personal field medic instead of bothering you at work every other week. Simon had shot the idea down like water on a fire, and the topic was never brought up again. He simply stated, “Never letting that happen.” 

He had his reservations about you entering an active warzone, let alone going on assignments with a squad like the 141. He’s never outright said it but he developed a soft spot for you. Over the months he had unintentionally carved a hole in his chest just for you; a place where he could protect and watch over you. His fondness for you only made it all the harder when he received the 141’s next assignment. It was a regular convoy escort but he felt sick when he read your name on the list. He even went so far as to double-check the itinerary with Captain Price. Went so far as to try and get you removed from the assignment. When you learnt of what he was doing you cornered him and chewed his head off. You understood his trepidations and his actions, but both of you knew he was out of line when he tried getting you booted from the mission. 

The convoy, mainly consisting of medical personnel, equipment, and supplies, would be moving right through enemy lines to get from your current base to a new one a few towns over. It would be dangerous, you weren’t naive, but you were your own person. You were simmering, but you couldn’t help the twinge of regret for yelling at him. 

In the days leading up to the mission Simon had grown distant, but remained watchful of you. He kept quiet, but you could see it in the shadow of his eyes, and in the muscles between his shoulders that he had a lot to say. 

There was a total of 5 medical personnel that were being transported, yourself included. You would be a vehicle with Butters, who was elected as the head medic for the new base, and your driver was going to be none other than Captain Price. 

As everyone was preparing to leave and loading up the last supplies, you caught Price and Simon in a quiet conversation, you couldn’t hear their exchange but you could tell it was heated. Price rolled back on his feet, fixing Simon with a tight-lipped smile before shaking his head. With that Simon backed away from him, pointed a finger at him saying one last thing before he turned and stalked towards the vehicle he would be in, obviously unsatisfied with Prices’ response.   

Butters sidled up next to you, his pack slung over his arm and offering you yours in his other hand, “There has been a slight change of plans,” he sighed, “Our voyage is now split into two days, we'll be staying overnight in a town in between. Our route hasn’t been completely cleared yet.” 

You turned your attention to him, your brows furrowing, “So they want us to have a sleepover behind enemy lines?” You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. 

Butters shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the turn of events. Butters always seemed to keep his thoughts and feelings close to his chest, but it was clear very little invoked thoughts and emotions out of him. He enlisted when he was 18 years old; he was 32 now with a wife, 3 kids, and another on the way. There was a high probability he would be asking for leave in the next couple of months so he could be there for his next child's birth. It sucked because he was the only other medic you were close with. You’d miss him. 

Butters and you jumped into the back seats of one car with Price, you’d be in the middle of the convoy, Ghost, Soap, and another medic in the other would take the rear, and Gaz and Roach would be in another vehicle at the front. There was also a total of five transport trucks. The convoy would be a giant target as we passed through, which is why the 141 was tasked with our protection.   

Price explained that the ride would be slow-moving and briefed the two of you on what to expect. He instructed you both to stay alert and that there was a chance of running into a hostile.   

The first couple hours were incredibly boring, but Butters alleviated some of it by tasking you with going over the manifestation of everything you guys were hauling with you. You also made conversation with Price about his last leave, he had returned home and “sat on the patio and smoked cigars” for two weeks.

 The sound was louder than anything you ever experienced in your life. You didn’t even have time to scream before the force of the detonation knocked you unconscious. 

It couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes when you finally regained consciousness. The vehicle was now completely upside down, the wheels still spinning as they faced the sky. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping you from landing face-first into shattered glass and rubble. 

In front of you, Price was already pulling himself out the window and onto the street. He looked back into the cab and for you and said something. 

Nothing was processing right. Not his words. Not your thoughts. Not the sight before you. Everything was foggy, as if it was a dream. 

Price reached back for you, bracing you with an arm before releasing your seatbelt. Your knees cracked as they hit the roof, the glass ripping through your uniform. The pain didn’t even register. Price hauled you out with him before going back in for Butters. 

Only he didn’t. 

Instead, he returned with his gun. Before he could stop you, you crawled back in for Butters to get him yourself. 

You froze. There was no saving him. There was almost nothing left. 

He was on the same side the anti-vehicle mine went off. 

You slowly backed out, shaking your head not believing your own eyes. 

Price was crouched beside you, his back to the vehicle, his eyes revealed no emotion. 

You looked back down the road you had just come down and the transport truck that was tailing you had stopped before entering the intersection. Beside them was the truck that Ghost and Soap were in. Ghost was jumping out, his gun drawn. Soap slid from the passenger seat to the driver's side. The medic they were escorting jumped out the back and ran for the transport truck. 

It was then you noticed that Price was shooting at something down the intersection. You could see the flash as the bullets left the barrel and smell the gunpowder, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything. 

You brushed your fingers to your ear and when you looked at them they came away red. Blood.

The sheer force of the blast ruptured your eardrums. 

You watched as Ghost applied suppressing fire and sidestepped in time with the truck as Soap rolled it into the intersection.

Price looked over his shoulder at you, his mouth moving. You could see it in his eyes the moment he connected the dots and caught that you couldn’t hear he turned to Ghost. Who jerked his head towards you and met your gaze. His eyes were wide, panicked. He ditched the cover of the truck and sprinted over while Price took over the covering fire. He slid into you, his gloved finger coming up to grab the sides of your face. He was gentle but urgent as he turned your head from side to side to inspect the damage. 

You caught your reflection in one of the side mirrors, and couldn't recognize the person staring back at you. Their expression cataonic. Blood leaked out their ears, down their neck, and blood dripped out of their nose. Their teeth had gone through their bottom lip from the impact of the blast.  

A low ringing began as sounds started to come back to you. Then it turned into an agonizing peal like you had stuck your head in a fire alarm. Ghost didn’t give you a chance to cover your ears because he was already pulling you into his chest, pressing one ear into his chest, and covering the other with his free hand. Using his remaining hand he raised his gun and pulled the trigger. 

Soap pulled their truck up next to yours, making a barricade with them. He slid out, being careful to keep his head down and ready to join the fight. 

Ghost started walking back towards the buildings behind, using his body to shield you from stray bullets. He smelt of gunpowder, sweat, and dust. He smelt familiar. His hard body against yours felt familiar. You felt the reverberation of his voice in his chest as he yelled something. You stumbled back with him as he moved, but he was practically carrying you at this point so you wouldn’t fall. His gun dangled at his hip. Soap was at the door to the nearest building, kicking the door open, the lock shattering. 

The ringing in your ears was still present but you make out their muffled yelling as the rest of them filed in. Ghost sat you down at the far wall and behind rows of shelving units. Price and Soap guarded the entrance.

Price started talking into his radio, “Gaz! We got enemy fire coming from southwest of the fire hall. We’re down one and another has been wounded. We are fresh out of wheels, they planted fucking mines,” he yelled into his radio over the sound of oncoming and outgoing gunshots.  

“We’re on our way,” Gaz’s voice replied through the Ghost radio that was attached to his shoulder.  

Ghost then knelt back down in front of you and swore. His hands shook as he reached for a rectangular pack at his hip, a little red insignia printed on the front. A med-pack. He dumped its contents onto the floor, rummaging through it until he found what he was looking for. 

He lifted your leg and started wrapping your thigh, but not before you saw what he was swearing at. There was a two-inch gash in your leg exposing raw flesh and muscle underneath. 

“That’s not good,” you breathed. It felt like your throat was torn to shreds; as if you had inhaled the explosion itself. 

“You’re fine,” he didn’t look up as he wrapped. It was tight enough that it hurt and you could feel your heartbeat crashing against the pressure. Despite that, the bandage wasn’t going to last.

You choked a laugh, “You might want to get out your, ‘I told you so’s’ while you still can,” You meant for it to come off as nonchalant but your voice quivered. 

“You’re fine,” he repeated. 

“I left a kit in the back seat,” You sucked in a sharp breath when he pulled the gauze one last time to tie a knot, “I don’t know if it survived though.” 

Because it was right next to Butters before the mine tore through the side SUV he was on.

Before I could say another word, Ghost was moving towards the door. Requested for an update, then asked for covering fire before exiting the door. He returned moments later with the kit. When he brought it over he made sure to place it behind him so you couldn’t see the condition of it. You imagined it to be macabre. 

As the adrenalin pumping through your body drained it began to tremble, cold rushing into your bones. Blood was already starting to dot the surface of the bandage. 

“Powder,” You instructed Ghost. He moved fast, cutting the bandage away with the blade he pulled from its sheath at his thigh, and tearing open the packaging. It was a quick-clotting powder used to stop the bleeding. 

You were no doubt in shock because you couldn’t feel the pain anymore. He rewrapped your leg; somehow, it was even tighter than before. You heard Gaz give an update over the radio, asking for more details and you could hear Price relaying the plan. 

Your breaths became shallow and sedated, your strength ebbing away. You fought the urge to close your eyes in fear of never opening them again. 

Ghost tapped a hand on your cheek, “Don’t be falling asleep on me, now Doc.” 

You were barely able to ground out a “Sir, yes, sir,” before your chin hit the front of your chest and succumbed to the darkness pulling at you.

Part 2 

Masterlist  ❤︎ 

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #MW2 #mw2 x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod fanfic #soap mctavish #captain price #MistyGhosties

[ne-cocoa]

I’m sorry about being gone guys, definitely not my intention at ALL 😭 it’s mostly been work and trying to take care of my new place, cats, and focusing on me and my partners car and home getting it together and somewhat stabilizing, but doing all that has given me MAJOR burnout from just constantly moving around, I have so many LMK ideas I want to pursue, including doing/finishing the wedding arc that I meant to do a whole year and a half ago if y’all remember that qvq I’m aware others are looking forward to that comic, so trust me I’m hearing everyone’s thoughts and reading my inbox, it’s been difficult for me mentally recently, but nothing brings me more joy then bringing you guys more content and advancing my own aus into something greater/more meaningful >v<

So! In the meantime, until I get my motivation and energy back and eventually living in a more stable household, please, ask me questions/inbox me about whether it be my life, my aus, my interests, whatever it may be! I plan to answer a lot this coming week, hearing you guys might help me better so thank you guys again for the support and love over the past couple years, it means more than anything ☺️

At the very least, I have this dumb 🔥🍜 doodle on a whiteboard at my home so, enjoy that at least! OvO

#personal #lmk #spicynoodles #necocoa stuff

[dckweed]

NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

summary: in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play.

comment on this post to be added to the taglist for future parts!

The smell of cigar smoke hung thick in the air, the lighting dim in the dark office. You sat stiffly in a large leather chair, and across from you on the other side of the massive oak desk sat your step father, Boyd Augastine. He was a mean old man, and you had hoped in your time away at boarding school that he had graciously paid for, that he would have calmed down. That hope seemed to be more wishful than anything though, in fact, you thought he seemed meaner than the last time you had seen him at Christmas dinner.

“Boyd, please!” You begged, trying to fight back tears. You hated being home, if you could even call this massive estate that, it made you tense and irate, scared. You shake your head at the man in front of you, trying to remain as polite as you could lest you reap the repercussions. “You can’t make me marry that boy!” You say, tone as even as you could keep it. “Is this even legal?!”

He had at least let you finish speaking. “I can, and you will.” He sniffs, not even bothering to look up at you as he shuffled through some papers sitting in front of him. You assumed they were the documents pertaining to the horrid news you had just been given. “The Tillman boy is a fine young man, he’s strong and not entirely stupid, and his family is almost as powerful as me. You will marry him, and you will produce a male heir to take over both families when the time comes.” He says, finality in his tone and a hint of annoyance that you knew meant that the conversation needed to end before you wound up being hurt. “Lord knows i’m not about to leave my fortune to some half-witted emotional broads. You may not be my blood, but you are legally an Augastine, you will do your part.” You wince. “Unless of course, you’d rather one of the girls marry him when they come of age?”

You purse your lips, trying desperately to bite your tongue. He always knew exactly what to say to get you to do whatever he wanted, and you hated that you had no backbone sometimes. What were you supposed to do though? Your half sisters weren’t even in high school yet, they were mere babies still..they deserved to find their own happiness in life, with someone they actually loved..if you had to marry this boy for a few years and pop out a kid or two for them to be able to live their lives, just to satiate their father, then you would gladly do it. They didn’t need to take your place. Besides, it's not like divorce wasn’t a common thing amongst young married couples anyway.

He knows your answer before you’ve even opened your mouth to speak it and tosses his expensive fountain tipped pen across the desk. It lands with a thud and you pick it up with a trembling hand as he slides the documents towards you as well. “Your mother would be proud.” He says cooly, watching you scrawl your name across every highlighted area that needs signing. You wondered what the Tillman’s were receiving in return for this, they were already fairly well off from what you understood. Pretty much every man in their lineage had been sheriff of the godforsaken county, law ran in their blood, and it paid well too. But who's to say that they weren’t being paid handsomely for this?

You felt as if you had just signed away your soul.

You toss the pen back to him, and give him his stupid papers back before standing and turning on your heel. You didn’t care if you hadn’t been dismissed, you were done. You needed to be alone, you needed to cry. You stride across his large office, and just as your hand touches the brass knob of the heavy door, his voice rings out.

“You’re to be married in two months' time, wedding planning begins tomorrow.” You clench the knob, fighting back the tears. He didn’t deserve to see you cry. “Sleep well, Pearlie.” You swore on your mama’s gravestone that the nickname she had given you dripped with venom when it came from his mouth. Sometimes you wished you could drip actual venom into his mouth, shut him up forever. It was a soothing thought when you were younger, before he had shipped you off to boarding school.

You make your way down the long carpeted hallway to the large wooden staircase, climbing them as quickly as you could. You could hear your sisters, Victoria and Lucy in their room giggling about something that had happened at school, and you smiled as you pressed your ear to the door. You had worried the whole time your mother was pregnant that the girls would be treated just as horribly as you were when your mother wasn’t around, that they would have to hide bruises and emotions and pretend that everything was okay just like you did, but they were his own flesh and blood, his own life force, he could never act such a way towards his own blood. But they weren’t boys, so they also weren’t good enough to take over his fucking business.

You head a little farther down the hall, closing and locking your own door behind you as you slipped into your room, the only place that occasionally felt safe to you when you were here. “I wish you were here, mama.” You whisper to the photo sitting on the dressing table right next to the door.

True to his word, the wedding planning started the next day. You were awoken by your sisters’ nanny early in the morning, her knocking at your bedroom door loud to your pounding head. You had spent the night crying and you were paying for it dearly.

“Miss Pearl,” Her ever pleasant voice calls through the thick wood as you sit up in bed. “Boyd is requesting you downstairs, your betrothed and his father have arrived..” You glance at the clock. It was seven-thirty in the morning. You were used to waking up around this time for school anyway, you had only been home twenty-four hours by this point. “He’s not too pleased this morning,” Her hushed voice comes next and you sigh, leaning your head back into your pillow.

“Thank you, Lorraine,” You say loud enough for her to hear, your thick comforter falling off of you as you sit up. “Tell them I'll be down soon, please..” She doesn’t respond but you hear her footsteps fade away from your door.

You stretch before swinging your legs over the side of your bed, rolling your head from side to side. You knew it was in your best interest to play along with Boyd’s scheme, and he would know if you were half assing or catching an attitude the moment you walked into the room. If you were going to do this, then dammit, you were going to do this right.

Within fifteen minutes you were dressed in a sleeveless white dress that flowed down to your feet, the top of it pushing your breasts up in the illusion of a push-up bra. You had purposely bought this one a size or so too small for that effect while you were still at school, wanting to impress one of the guys you had been previously dating before graduation. You left your hair down to fall around your shoulders, brushing it and using one of your favorite hair serums to run through it with your fingers, leaving a nice smell before you slid on a glossy lip oil and mascara, with a spritz of your favorite perfume to your wrists.

With one last look at the photo of your mom, silently wishing she were here with you to help you through this, you open your door and make your way barefoot down the hallway and stairs.

You hear their voices when you come off the stairs in the middle of the grand hallway on the first floor, floating out of the massive dining room that was hardly ever used. You don’t pause, afraid that if you did it would be all you would need to turn tail and hide in your bedroom forever, and head immediately for the doorway, waltzing in as if you weren’t interrupting their apparently humorous conversation.

You paint a smile on your face as Boyd narrows his eyes at you, a look that you knew meant he wasn’t at all happy with you and you were certainly going to hear about it later. “Sorry to keep you waiting, sir,” You say, kissing his cheek to keep up the appearance of a loving father and daughter relationship, something you had been doing since you were ten. He couldn’t have the world knowing that he despised his late wife’s daughter, could he? You squeeze his shoulder. “The drive up from school must have exhausted me more than i realized, i didn’t mean to sleep in and miss greeting our guests.” You shoot them an award winning smile as well as you smooth out your skirt, taking your seat next to Boyd, but across from the Sheriff and who you assumed was his son.

Boyd hums and you just know that he’s boiling with rage at you, though in your defense, he hadn’t informed you that there would be a breakfast this morning. “You haven’t missed much, we were just talking about your horse actually, and your award from Eventing last season.” Just the topic brought another smile onto your face, a real one this time.

“That was a close one too, we were neck and neck with our second place competitor..” You had spent the majority of the time after the event wondering if Boyd had paid off the judges to put you in first, though you did know that you had put in a lot of training hours with Bubbles, and it had clearly shown. Besides, Boyd didn’t like you nearly enough to pay off the judges just to see you place first in any sport, let alone Equestrian Eventing.

The older man sitting across from you, the Sheriff, smiles what appears to be a genuine smile at you. “You love your horses, I can tell from the way your whole face just lit up like the sun had touched it..” You can’t help the blush on your face, and judging by the look on his sons face as he looked at you, you had just done something right without even knowing it. “You and I already have something in common with each other, perhaps i’ll make time to take a ride with you this weekend..” His sons face completely changed at the mention, you would say it resembled a sort of panic.

“I would love that!” You exclaim, more than pleased to spend any kind of time on your horse, even if it was with your soon to be father in law. He nods at you in return, and nudges his son, as if communicating with him.

Breakfast is served not too much longer after that, and the time is spent with your step father and the Sheriff talking about things you couldn’t even have pretended to care about in that moment, like golf or what the government was doing, while you and the boy across from you shared a couple of glances, staying silent unless spoken to.

You had to admit, he wasn’t terrible on the eyes. He wore a black polo shirt underneath of what you could only assume was a bullet proof vest with a velcro patch that said Sheriff across the chest. His hair was slicked back away from his face, and you noticed a tattoo peaking out of one of the short sleeves stretched across his bicep. Oh, he was certainly handsome, but probably not the type to ever be happy with a girl like you..nor did you think you could be happy with him.

You were obviously younger than him at only eighteen (your birthday thankfully just before your wedding date), you had just graduated highschool. You had no job, and your only future now lay with the man in front of you. He didn’t speak too much, and you couldn’t tell if it was because he was a naturally quiet person, or if it was because his father and Boyd were obviously the alphas in the room and from what you could gather, weren’t to be bothered until they bothered you first. You didn’t mind that he was older than you, though you guessed he was at least mid twenties if he was already a cop. You kind of liked the thought of being with someone older than you, the boys you had been with at school were all dipshits and childish. You hoped that he wasn’t the same. And if he was, well, at least he was handsome to look at.

The boy, Gator, looked up at you from across the table. You decided that his eyes were hazel, a beautiful color for a decidedly beautiful man. You give him a shy smile from where you sat, raising a mug of your favorite breakfast tea to your lips. You noticed the way he licks his lips, his eyes darting to your mouth and back to his plate once you had set your cup down on its saucer. Well, you thought, at least he’s clearly attracted to me. Maybe our marriage won’t be completely boring..

You had long ago tuned out the droning voices of your step father and your soon to be father in law, using your fork to pick around at the fruit salad you had served yourself for breakfast, adding a little yogurt to it here and there. You couldn’t bring yourself to fully eat, your stomach uneasy the more you thought about your impending marriage. God, how was arranged marriage even still a thing? How was this even fucking legal? You made a mental note to ask Boyd for copies of all of the documents you had signed so you could take them to a lawyer in town somewhere, have them double check that the documents were in fact legal. If there was anything you could do to get out of this, you were willing to do it. 

You’re jolted from your thoughts by Boyd’s voice, and you jump, startled. “Sorry, i was day dreaming..” You say, shaking your head with a small giggle, hoping that he hadn’t been trying to get your attention for too long. You can see Sheriff Roy give a small smile from across the table, another nudge to his son.

Boyd gives you a subtle eye roll as he faces you, and you can tell from his body language that he’s upset with you for zoning out. You were certain to hear an earful about it tonight and that made you nervous. “Roy and I have some business to attend to in my office,” He says, giving a pointed glance to the boy sitting across from you guys. “How about you take Gator on a walk around the grounds? The girls are out getting piano and violin lessons right now, you won’t be bothered for a while.” Is he trying to tell me to fuck this boy? You wondered disgustedly, you knew Boyd was..well, Boyd, but really?

You want to say no, you want to tell him to marry the boy himself if it was that important to him, but you’re afraid of what could possibly happen to you if you do, so you paint another smile on your lips and look over to your husband to be. “I’ll show you my horse!” You say, setting your napkin next to your plate as you stand, walking around the table to lead him out into the foyer. “The barn is a little ways out there,” You say when you notice him following you out of the dining room. “Hope you don’t mind a little walk..”

He follows you silently through the formal living room and into the kitchen, straight back into the mudroom where you bend over to put your well worn boots on. They were brown, and the leather was starting to wear down on them but you didn’t mind, they still got the job done. They were a gift from your mama and you would wear them until they fell apart, and even then you would probably duct tape them back together again.

He’s gentlemanly enough to hold the back door open for you, and you breathe in his scent as you brush past him. He smells good, his cologne floods your scents. Its a woodsy kind of scent, mixed with a little bit of leather, and something a little fruity that you can’t quite name and you wonder what the hell it is as he falls in step next to you as you both walk off of the porch. His hands are slipped into his pockets as you guys walk, a casual look, and you notice that he’s tall too, even in his work boots.

You realize that he’s not going to make the first step to conversation.

When you’re a good enough distance away from the house, out of sight of Boyd’s office, you stop abruptly and turn to face him, the sun beats down on his face even with his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. He stops too, tilting his face down at you, an eyebrow raised and an amused look on his face. God, you though, he really is handsome.

“Can I help you with somethin’?” He asks, his drawl washing over you. That was the first time he had spoken and good lord his voice could do things to you if this were any other kind of situation, you just knew it. His shoulders are squared, and you realize that now, alone with you, he is the alpha male. You kind of like the vibe that rolls off of him, but it makes you wonder why he cowered when he was in the same room as your guys’ fathers.

You look around, lips pursed and hands on your hips as you thought. “Look,” You start, meeting his gaze under the brim of his hat. “The way I see it, neither of us particularly wants to be in this situation.” He hums in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest as he listens to what you have to say. “Neither of us are happy, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t at least try to be friends..we’re both stuck doing this, and even though i wasn’t given a choice, I would still like to at least be friends with the person i’m marrying in two months..”

He sniffs and looks around for a moment, and for the first time, you see a smile on his face and you couldn’t help but think it was beautiful. “Alright then,” He says, holding out his hand for you to shake. “Let’s be friends.”

taglist:

@ruth-barnes @justherebecausesafarisucks @daisy-is-a-writer

#gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fic #gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman x reader #joe keery #fargo season 5

[mysaintkitten]

Here’s a shitty little blurb involving Chris … and some guns … 🤭

WARNINGS: SMUT (18+ MDNI), cockwarming, gunplay (my love)

It started with half an hour, then and hour, and then an hour and a half. The more time went on, the more desperate you became. With Chris’ cock sitting still inside you, it’s like you could feel every familiar ridge and vein, but without the intoxicating friction that came along with it.

You promised him you’d be good, and you really wanted to be, but it was becoming harder and harder to sit still. Eventually your hips ended up shifting around on their own, and your core began to clench around him involuntarily.

“Baby,” Chris groaned, not taking his eyes off the barrel of his new and loaded gun. “We made a deal, didn’t we?”

You dip your head into his neck out of frustration, huffing softly in the process. You loved, yet also hated, Chris’ attentiveness. Nothing got by him. Ever. Even in situations like this, where all you want is for Chris to fuck you.

He knows how badly you want it, and that’s exactly why he teases you with it.

“It’s just … I feel so full ‘n I just …” you defend pathetically, it’s hard to form a compelling argument when the only thing that’s racing through your head is ‘cock’.

“Too bad, darling.” Chris replies while feigning pity, turning the safety off his gun before finishing his thought, “a deals a deal.”

“Chris …” you mewl and clench around him again, nipping gently at his neck playfully. He groans and sighs, allowing the kisses and bites for a few seconds.

He pulled your head out of the nook of his neck and gripped your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “you promised me that you’d be good, that you’d sit on my cock and stay quiet until i finished examining the guns, didn’t you baby?”

You nod as best you can while he holds your face.

“And yet you couldn’t even do that for me, too much of a desperate fucking slut.” He spat back at you, making you frown and whine. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but what can he expect? He can’t fill you up so nicely and still expect you to be obedient.

As you slowly move your hips around, you’re stopped in your tracks when you feel the cold barrel of his gun be placed beneath your chin, Chris’ finger sitting patiently on the trigger. You swallowed nervously as your body froze on top of him.

“Aw, not so brave now, huh?” He chuckles at you, “you get so tight when you’re scared.”

You’re afraid to move, deeply worried that the slightest shift may set off the gun. That is, until, you feel Chris’ other hand soothingly pet your thigh, before patting it encouragingly.

“Well, come on. Don’t keep daddy waiting.”

Hesitantly, you begin to roll your hips, riding Chris at a steady pace, all the while his gun is pressing against you. He dips his head back and hums approvingly, clearly enjoying the show that’s being put on for him.

“That’s it. Ride me, girl. And don’t you dare fucking stop.”

—

I’ve been in the mood to write lately but I have no idea what. I think I’ll go through my requests again, see if anything sticks out hehe. In the meantime, have a little blurb!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #Chris free fire #hope y’all like this #:)

[meadema7]

Y/n x meadema - clingy

- Will probably have grammar and spelling mistakes -

I'm woken up from my sleep by viv trying to get out of bed. Being half asleep I just latch myself onto her even more.

This makes beth laugh from the other side of me. I just grumble and cuddle as close as I can to viv.

Viv: Liefde we need to get up we have an away match today. I don't reply and just roll over to face beth and eventually get out of bed and go and get changed into my arsenal tracksuit.

Beth's pov:

As me and viv are relaxing on the sofa before we need to head out to meet the team, we hear y/n walking downstairs with her match day bag in her hand. Next thing we know she's layed across us both on the sofa showing no sign of wanting to get up.

Baby why are you so clingy this morning? I ask her

Y/n I'm not she grumbles into my chest from where she's layed

Viv just laughs at this and manages to move y/n's legs and get up.

Viv: Liefdes I'm going to put our bags in the car and get ready come out in 5 minutes.

✨️time skip✨️

Y/n pov:

The match away against spurs went aswell as it possible could finishing us winning 4-0 with two goals for viv, one for lotte and I even managed to get one for myself aswell as providing viv with an assist. As soon as the final whistle went I walked straight over to viv and hugged her from behind, mumbling out a quiet congratulations to her for the goals before rest my head in the middle of her shoulder blades. We're quickly joined by beth (who joins the hug by hugging me from behind by this point viv turned around in my arms, so I'm kinda sandwiched between them.)

On the way home I dozed of on vivs shoulder as beth decided to join the back of the bus with her usual group (involving jen, steph and katie) they were just singing chants and having a laugh.

By the time we're home I had woken up more and me and beth were just sat around in the kitchen (her on a bar stool behind the island and me just sat on top of the island) we were all just enjoying the relaxing and peaceful atmosphere that had formed. Eventually me and beth started to have some quiet exchange of conversations while viv was dancing around the kitchen while making our dinner.

If you listened hard enough you could hear the quiet voice of viv singing some taylor swift song.

That night ended with you viv and beth sat around the kitchen table playing board games and eating some snacks that beth had prepared earlier with the background noise of football on.

‐----------------------------------------

Sorry, it's short. I just speed wrote this out a minute ago as the one I was writing was nowhere near done, and I didn't wanna leave you guys with nothing to read updates may be slow as I have exams im reviving for currently. Please, if you have anything you want me to write about beth or viv, let me know in the comments or through my request box.

#arsenal wfc #woso x reader #beth mead #vivianne miedema #woso #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x beth mead #vivianne miedema x reader

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part I

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 4K+

STORY PAGE

You could spot the birthday parties from across the room. Beautiful, rich kids and socialites tend to go all out, with the balloons and banners, ordering bottles or at the very least, top shelf cocktails by the dozens. On occasion, you might get a wealthy middle-aged businessman, or some guy who just made his first half-mil in crypto, ready to live it up for the night, but they usually kept a lower profile, not attracting as much attention to their celebration.

Zelda’s was a swanky, high-dollar lounge for the rich and the wannabes. In your two years as a cocktail waitress there, you’d learned how to spot the difference. Those with money knew how to spend it. Those that were only there for one evening of “let’s pretend” spent frivolously, cashing it in before - or sometimes after - going belly-up.

Tonight seemed to be just like every other weekend evening, the corner booths filled with decorations and Gucci-lipped twenty-somethings taking cell phone pics of each other. You gave your best fake smile, ready to serve anyone willing to blow a few hundred on drinks and hopefully dishing out hefty tips.

“What can I get you, doll?” you asked the blond at the end of the half-circle booth.

She gave you a quizzical look at first, as though you had just interrupted a private conversation. Then with a flip of her hair, she smiled at her group.

“Oh, I think Harry was gonna order for us all,” she said. “It’s his birthday.”

“And which one is Harry?” you grinned at the three young men who shared the booth, all dressed in suit jackets with their shirts unbuttoned past their pecs. Everyone at the table pointed to the dark-haired guy who sat in the center with his hands up.

“That would be me,” he remarked nonchalantly in a syrupy British accent.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Harry,” you raised your voice over the loud music. “What are we having for this celebration?”

“Tequila, the best you’ve got,” he replied, his ringed finger gesturing in a circle. “All around. And a bottle of Cristal.”

Two of the girls at the table cheered, clearly impressed with Harry’s selection.

“Sounds like a good party to me,” you nodded. “Be right back.”

Heading over to the bar, you heard the group cackle behind you. Then one of the girls shouted, “Stop it!” When you reached the edge of the bar, giving John, the bartender your order, you snuck a glance over at the table. The girl sitting next to Harry held her cell phone up to take a photo, the birthday boy with his tongue in her ear. Clearly the group had gotten a head start on drinks before they’d ever arrived.

“Another one of those, huh, Y/N?” scoffed John.

“Same shit, different day,” you commented, shaking your head. “Gimme one of the birthday glasses, will you?”

“Ah, which Paris Hilton wannabe is the birthday girl? Lemme guess…the blonde in the silver bandeau top getting her ear tongue fucked.”

You chuckled. “Try the fucker.”

“Oh yeah?” John raised a brow, placing the bottle of Cristal on your tray. “The himbo, eh? Wouldn’t have guessed it.”

“Why not?”

“Imposter Armani suit? I can spot it a mile away, honey.”

You laughed as he finished pouring the tequila. “Guess he’s out of his element. But he obviously wants to impress on his birthday.”

“From the look of the caliber of girls he’s with, I’d say I don’t blame him.”

You nodded, carefully taking the tray. You knew what John meant. Harry may have not been the typical socialite to walk through Zelda’s doors, but the women in his company obviously were. And they expected to be treated as such.

Returning to the table, you gave your biggest smile as you set out the tequila. You noticed Harry eyeing you as the rest of the group claimed a glass.

“This is your best tequila?” he asked, almost in a huff as though you couldn’t have possibly selected the best.

“Definitely,” you replied. “It’s a Siete Leguas.”

“Hmm.” Lifting his glass, he let the liquid swirl before taking a sniff.

“Smells good to me,” remarked the blond next to him. “But I don’t know much about tequila.”

Harry took a slow sip, his eyes still on you above the rim of his glass.

“What d’ya say, H?” asked one of the other gentlemen.

“It’ll do.”

Trying your best not to react negatively, you chewed your bottom lip. “I can get you something else if you like.”

“I said it’s fine.”

Not bothering to mask your frown, you took a deep breath through your nostrils. This was gonna be a long night.

“Would you like me to pop the champagne now?” you asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” Harry gestured with his hand, taking another sip of his tequila.

Taking the bottle, you opened it with finesse, just the way you’d been taught and had been doing since you’d started working at Zelda’s. The girls all cheered when the cork popped. Harry, however, was not impressed.

Grabbing the special birthday glass, you began to pour.

“What the fuck is that?” spat Harry.

“It’s for you,” you smiled.

“I don’t want that. Gimme one of the regular champagne glasses.”

“I’ll take it!” beamed the blond on the end. “It’s cute!”

Harry rolled his eyes before handing the glass to her with a smirk.

“Here, Tawnie,” he said. “Pretend it’s your birthday.”

“Aw, yay!” she giggled with glee.

Trying to keep your composure, you poured another glass of Cristal, handing it to Harry.

“Shouldn’t ladies go first?” he remarked, scooting the glass to the girl next to him.

“God, I’m gonna be so wasted,” she laughed.

Swallowing hard, you knew where this was headed, so you poured champagne for the other two girls, then passed around the remaining glasses to the guys, leaving the last for Harry.

“Happy Birthday,” you said again, this time with no enthusiasm. “Enjoy.”

Leaving the bottle on the table, you turned away, cursing under your breath before making your way back to the bar.

“Jesus fucking Christ, kill me now,” you whined at John.

“That bad, huh?”

“He’s a petulant, disrespectful asshole!”

“The good looking ones usually are,” John sighed.

“You think he’s good looking?” you twisted slightly to look over at the booth. Harry was laughing at something one of the other guys had said.

“Honey, don’t tell me you didn’t notice!” chuckled John.

“I was too busy wanting to pour tequila over his head,” you grimaced.

“Well, try not to let it get to you, hon. Just be your sweet self, and get that massive tip. The night will be over, and you’ll never have to see him again.”

With a nod and a sigh, you took the refills for the next table, handing them out with a bright smile. The older gentlemen gave you a thanks and a wink, one of them patting your behind as you bent over. You hated being fondled at work, but if you had a choice, you’d take that any day over dealing with jerks like Harry.

“Excuse me!” you heard someone shout as you started to make your way back to the bar. Speak of the devil.

“Yes?” you grinned, stepping over to Harry’s table. “What can I do for you?”

“Can I get a glass of wat-” asked a brunette before Harry rudely interrupted.

“We need water,” he said, accusingly.

“Sure, no problem. All around?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes. Apparently this man lived to be constantly perturbed.

“I’ll get those for you right now.”

“That should have been like…a given, right?” he remarked. “What waitress doesn’t automatically bring water?”

With a sigh, you slid your tray under your arm, pressing your hand on your hip.

“If you want water…or anything for that matter…you can ask for it!” you barked. “I’m happy to bring it to you. But you don’t have to treat me like an imbecile!”

“Jeez,” one of the other guys muttered under his breath.

“What?” Harry glared at you, his eyebrows knitted together.

“You heard me, Birthday Boy! I’m just doing my job!”

As you started to turn away, you heard him mutter, “Doesn’t look like it,” followed by the rest of the group either giggling or shouting “Ooooh!”

You decided not to delight him with a response. Instead, you strutted to the bar where your darling pal John was already getting water glasses ready.

“Fuck me sideways, girl, that was rough!” he exclaimed.

“I’m done, John! I can’t deal with these assholes anymore!”

“Uh oh, looks like you may have to,” John averted his eyes to the glasses in front of him. Turning to see what he was talking about, you nearly ran into Mr. Personality.

“You owe me an apology,” he growled.

“Excuse me? I think it’s the other way around!” you yelled.

“I’m out with my friends for my birthday,” he explained, gesturing toward the table, “and I don’t appreciate the way you’re treating me.”

“The way I’m tr-” you turned beet red. “How dare you! You entitled, self-centered prick!”

“Easy, girl!” you heard John shout, but you paid no mind. You were ready to have it out with this guy.

“What did you call me?”

“Y/N!” someone else shouted. Looking up, you noticed your boss, a scowl on his face as the entire lounge had turned their focus on your encounter. “What seems to be the trouble here?”

“Are you the manager?” asked Harry.

“Yes, sir, how can I assist you?”

“I’m not sure exactly,” he began, “but your waitress here seems to have a problem with me. I’m here celebrating my birthday with my mates, and she’s gone out of her way to be rude to me all evening.”

“What?!?!” you shouted incredulously.

“Y/N, did you have a problem with this young man?”

“No, sir,” you shook your head, your arms crossed over your chest. “It’s the other way around. He’s been nothing but rude since-”

“She just called me a prick,” Harry interjected.

“Because you’re being one!” You glared at the asshole, shooting daggers at him. You felt like your insides were on fire as you held your hands in fists at your sides.

“Y/N, if you can’t control your temper, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” said your boss.

“I’m sorry, but he’s so rude, Mr-”

“Y/N,” your boss narrowed his eyes at you, before turning to Harry. “Sir, I do apologize for my employee. We do not condone this kind of behavior at our lounge.”

You watched Harry as his shoulders fell, a breath releasing from his nose. “I should hope not.”

“Now…” your boss added. “What can we do to rectify this situation? Perhaps we can put your tab on the house?”

Harry raised his brows, surprised at the offer. “That would…yes, that would be nice. Thank you.”

Your boss nodded, patting Harry on the back. “No problem whatsoever. I hope you’ll come see us again.”

“Not if she’s here,” Harry scowled.

“I assure you, that won’t happen.”

With a gasp, you watched your boss turn around and face you. “Get your things, Y/N,” he said in the most relaxed voice possible, as though you weren’t just getting canned.

“Are you serious?” you cried.

“We don’t talk to our patrons this way,” he explained. “I won’t allow it. Now, put your apron away and clock out.”

Your jaw set, you tried your best not to cry. No, you wouldn’t allow yourself to. Not in front of him.

“Fine,” you said, untying your apron. You slapped it down hard on the bar, then turned for the back room, but not before noticing the sly, satisfied smirk on jerkhead’s face.

Only when you reached the back room did you let the tears fall. Cursing at yourself, at Harry, and your boss, and at the entire situation, you managed to grab your jacket and purse. You almost forgot to clock out, but you figured you might not get paid otherwise. Sitting on the dark green leather sofa, you waited until you thought Harry and his crew might be gone. Then wiping your eyes, you stood up, nearly bumping into John.

“Oh, Y/N, honey I’m so sorry!” he cried, wrapping you in a big hug.

“What the fuck, John? Why does he get to win?”

“I don’t know. The whole ‘the customer is always right’ thing, I guess.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” you sobbed against his chest..

“Preaching to the choir, sister.”

“Is he gone yet?”

“Mr. Pretentious? Yeah, he left a few minutes ago. Want me to walk you out?”

With a nod, you let John walk you halfway through the lounge until you met up with your boss again who insisted he be the one to see you out. Just in case you were to cause a scene or some shit. As if you would. Not after that whole ordeal. You felt completely defeated…and deflated. You felt the eyes on you as you made it to the front door. Your boss held it open for you as you stepped into the balmy night air. With a sigh you walked to your car, turning once to give Zelda’s the middle finger.

Fuck that Harry guy. Fuck him to hell and back.

“Are you ready?” asked Shae.

With a sigh and a nod, you grabbed your keys. Last month you had promised your roommate that you’d go with her to get a tattoo. While you had been thrilled then about getting some new ink, after getting fired from Zelda’s, the excitement had worn off. In fact, you’d considered canceling all together, seeing as spending dough on a tat now seemed frivolous, and you could certainly use the money in case you couldn’t find another job soon. But in the end, you decided you owed yourself some kindness. And besides, Shae was chomping at the bit to get one, and she wouldn’t let you live until you went with her.

You drove to Fine Line Ink, just a few blocks from your apartment. You’d driven by it several times, but had never gone inside. Shae specifically requested this tattoo shop because apparently it was fairly well-known on social media. At least your roommate had done her research, even though she had no idea what tattoo she wanted to get.

“I’ll know it when I see it,” she’d insisted.

You heard 90s rock music playing when you opened the door, but saw no one standing near the counter, or even in the waiting area. The front room was dark, but with warm lighting, much like at Zelda’s. You could smell incense burning as you gazed around at the walls decorated in various designs. Wandering over to the glass counter, you inspected the display of body jewelry.

“Hi, how can I help you?” you heard a voice say.

Your body instantly felt cold as you stood up straight. You knew that voice. And it was one you’d hoped you would never have to hear again. Turning around, you caught a glimpse of his tall frame, his t-shirt stretched tight across his chest, his biceps peeking out from the sleeves.

Motherfucker.

“Hey,” beamed Shae. “We’re here to get tats.”

Shae gestured toward you, and your body went numb.

“Oh?” Harry raised a brow, then looked at you. The recognition and disdain both happened instantly. “Oh.”

Turning back to Shae, he asked, “Do you know what you want?”

“Not exactly,” she shrugged. “Nothing too big. But not too small either.”

Harry chuckled. “Alright. I have a book right here,” he pointed to one on the counter. “It’s got some ‘not too big, not too small’ ideas in there, if you wanna take a look.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“Take your time,” Harry grinned at her. “I’ll be back.”

He gave Shae a small wave, but you didn’t miss the way his expression changed when he glanced at you before he disappeared to the back.

“So what are you thinking of getting?” your friend asked as she perused the book. She stopped on a page of flowers, but scrunched up her nose. “Nah.”

“Um…let’s go somewhere else,” you told Shae, practically pulling her arm out of the socket.

“What? No! I wanna get a tattoo here!”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Why not? I heard this guy’s the best. Plus…he’s like hella hot!”

“No, he’s not,” you argued.

“Are you fucking blind?” scoffed Shae. Turning the page in the book, she stopped and pointed at a baby lion. “That’s it!”

“I just…” you stammered, “I just don’t think this is a good idea anymore. I changed my mind.”

“Did you find something you like?” Harry asked from the doorway.

“No-”

“Uh huh!” exclaimed Shae. “This baby lion is so cute. It’s so me. I want him right here on my hip.” She jutted out her hip, slapping her hand where she wanted the tattoo to go.

Harry chuckled again, making your insides churn. You wanted to vomit.

“Alright,” he said, handing her a clipboard. “If you’ll just fill this out for me, I’ll go prepare your stencil.”

You weren’t sure what to do. You’d already promised your friend, and she looked so excited. You knew there were dozens of other tattoo shops you could go to, but Shae had picked this one. Why did it have to be this guy’s shop? Of all the fucking…

Taking a deep breath, you lowered yourself slowly in a nearby chair as Shae filled out her paperwork. Signing her name, she turned to you with a smile.

“Isn’t it cute? I’m so excited!”

With a gulp, you were about to respond when Harry returned.

“Let’s go back here,” he gestured once he’d taken the clipboard from Shae.

“Wait, my friend’s getting one too,” she looked at you. “Aren’t you?”

“No.” Although the sound came from your mouth, you could have sworn Harry’s lips moved too.

“Um…” you cleared your throat. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Shae asked, confused.

Although you didn’t want to, you gazed at Harry. His frown was so apparent, it almost looked like his eyebrows were sewn together. Finally, he relaxed his expression, pretending for Shae’s benefit.

“Don’t reckon I have enough time, love. It’s only me here tonight.”

You had to hand it to him. That was a good answer.

“Oh,” Shae pouted. “But I wanted to get tats together.”

“It’s alright,” you assured her. “I need to save my money. And I doubt there’s anything here I’d want anyway.”

You had to hand it to yourself. That was a nice dig.

It wasn’t lost on Harry, either. He scowled at you before turning for the tattoo chair, Shae following behind.

“This your first tattoo?” you heard Harry ask as you remained in the doorway.

“Yes. So please be gentle,” your friend replied, obviously flirting.

You rolled your eyes as Harry chuckled. In any other situation, with any other man, not only would you have encouraged the flirting, you might have even joined in. Both John and Shae were right in saying he was good looking…or hella hot as it were. Even you had to admit that. But you hated to. And you also hated how his laugh rang through the shop, like an invisible tattoo of its own, lacing with the sound of the Foo Fighters song that played.

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the door frame, trying to think of a way to get out of the situation. You thought of faking an illness. You did feel like throwing up. But Shae wasn’t having it.

“Come sit over here, Y/N!”

“I’m fine here.”

“Noooo. Come over here in case I need to hold your hand. What if I pass out or something?”

“Do you pass out easily?” Harry asked as he pulled on his gloves.

“No,” Shae replied. “I’m actually not scared of needles. But you never know.”

You caught the grin on Harry’s face as he turned in his chair. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Y/N!” Shae whined. “Please!”

Rolling your eyes, you surrendered, walking slowly toward Harry’s tattoo station. You noted everything he had set out on the tray beside him. At least he seemed to know what he was doing. But you weren’t about to admit that. Grabbing a nearby chair, you took a seat on Shae’s other side, opposite from Harry.

“So, you want it on your left hip?” Harry confirmed.

“Yep.”

“Alright. So I’m gonna need you to pull down your pants just a bit, past your hip, and turn on your right side facing…um…your friend.”

“Yes, sir,” Shae smiled, happily willing to oblige.

You watched as she unbuttoned her jeans, sliding them down as sensually as she could on the leather chair. You caught a glimmer in Harry’s eyes when he noticed she was wearing a thong.

“Seriously?” you scoffed.

“What?” he frowned, looking up at you.

“Do you have to ogle at her for fuck’s sake? She’s getting a tattoo, not stripping for you.”

“You’ve got to be joking.”

“Believe me, joking is the last thing I’d be doing with you.”

Shae stared at you as she laid on her side. “Y/N, it’s okay! He can ogle at me all he wants!”

“Shae,” you narrowed your eyes.

“I think your friend can speak for herself,” remarked Harry.

Making a face, you sat back, crossing your arms and legs. His expression stoic, Harry pushed his chair closer to Shae, lightly swiping her skin with rubbing alcohol. Then he took a disposable razor to gently shave her hip.

“I promise I just shaved this morning,” giggled Shae.

“I’m sure you did,” Harry smirked. “It’s just procedure. We have to thoroughly prep the area before adding ink.”

Taking the stencil, he placed it on Shae’s hip, directly under her panty line.

“Is this where you want it?”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

“Good.” Harry ran his fingers slowly and smoothly across the thermal paper, and you just had to say something.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Blowing air between his lips, Harry glared up at you.

“Would you stop? I’m just doing my job.”

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me. Looks like you’re trying to feel her up.”

“Y/N, what the fuck?” cried Shae. “Do you have a problem with this guy?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

Shae sat up, looking at you quizzically. “Do you know him?” Then lowering her voice, she whispered, “Did y’all fuck?”

Hearing the question, Harry snorted.

“Yeah, you wish,” you scoffed, giving him the evil eye.

“In your dreams, babe.”

“That’s it, I’m outta here,” you sprinted out of your chair, heading for the door.

“Y/N!” Shae shouted. “What is going on?”

“I’m sorry, Shae, I tried to keep my cool. But I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” muttered Harry.

“Ugh!” you cringed. “C’mon, Shae, pull your pants up. We’ll find someone more competent to do your tattoo.”

“I believe I’m more than competent,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m so lost here,” Shae whimpered, still in her chair. “How do you know each other?”

When you reached the doorway, you turned to face her, your arms still crossed.

“He’s the asshole who got me fired.”

“What?! Are you serious?!”

Adjusting herself in her chair, she faced Harry, waiting for him to retort. But he remained expressionless, his mouth in a straight line. Giving up on getting any response from him, you sighed and gestured for Shae again. When she slid off the chair, buttoning her pants, Harry finally spoke.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“What?” you glared at him.

“I…I didn’t mean to get you fired.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I mean it. I was…a complete prick to you…just like you said. And I’m sorry.”

“Pffftt,” you sounded. “It's a little late for that. I lost my job because of you!”

“I know, and I felt bad about it.”

“No, you didn’t!” you spat. “You were ecstatic that you’d gotten your way! You’re an asshole!”

“You’re right,” Harry nodded. “I deserve that. But I hope you know that wasn’t me.”

“Do you have an evil twin?”

“No. I was trying to impress my friends.”

“By being a jerk?” piped Shae.

“Yeah. I know it’s not a good look,” Harry shook his head. He rose from his chair, stepping closer to you. “I was seeing this chick, Nicolette…and she was…used to a certain lifestyle. It felt good to be part of her world for a while.”

“Doesn’t sound like friends to me,” you remarked.

“No. They just wanted to go to Zelda’s and get drunk. I swear, it’s not my scene.”

“You don’t say.”

“Look…” Harry sighed. “I’m not asking for forgiveness because I know you won’t give it to me. I have no real justification for the way I acted. I truly was a prick that night. But I regretted it later. I knew it was wrong of me, and I wanted to apologize but I didn’t even know your name, let alone where to find you. I broke it off with Nicolette, too.”

“Oh, jeez, that makes me feel soooo much better,” you said sarcastically.

Throwing his hands up, Harry turned around and began to gather things from the tray.

“You really have some nerve, you know that?” you added.

Harry spun around, “For what? For apologizing?”

“For everything! For acting like a big shot, especially when you obviously didn’t belong there. For yelling at me in front of the entire bar, including my boss, and for getting me fired. And for being rude to me as soon as I walked in here.”

“Hey, you were rude to me first!”

“I was not!”

“Hey, guys?” Shae interjected. “Maybe we should just drop it. You were right, Y/N. We shouldn’t have come here.”

“I swear, Shae, if I had known he worked here, we wouldn’t have. Let’s go.”

As soon as you pushed the door open, you heard Harry huffing. “Your loss, not mine.”

“Fuck you, dude!” you exclaimed. “And get a life. A real one, not someone else’s.”

FEEDBACK IS LOVE

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry fanfic #harry fan fiction #harry fanfiction #harry fic #harry smut #enemies to lovers #slow burn #harry x reader #harry x yn #tattoo artist!harry #asshole!harry #repost

[morbific-or-felicific]

-AGNOSTHESIA PART 3 Featuring Scaramouche’s

Part 1 Part2

Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person

Word Count: 2.6k~

Description: After you almost fail your midterm Scaramouche decides to punish you

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

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You were in the library, sitting across the table from your boyfriend. You could feel his eyes on you while you read through the notes he had helped you make. The two of you had a midterm in half an hour, and you were hoping to at least get a seventy five…however out of reach that may be.

“You know, if you don’t know the material by now, you aren’t going to magically learn it in the next thirty minutes.”

You let out a sigh and met your boyfriend's gaze.

“Are you going to let me stop studying then?”

“Do you really think you can afford to stop? You do know how stupid you are, right?”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and returned your focus to your notes.

As you studied, Scaramouche lazily scrolled through his phone, texting and watching videos. It frustrated you to no end to know that, despite his lack of effort, he would no doubt earn the highest mark in the class. Meanwhile, you* were working as hard as you possibly could while still running the risk of failing, with Scaramouche’s ominous threat of ‘punishment’ hanging over your head.

You barely noticed when Scaramouche started gathering his things to head to class, having to have him snap his fingers in front of your face to break your focus. Finally, you gathered your notes, and the two of you made your way to class.

~ ♡ ~

Although you swore you had only spent twenty minutes writing the test, you supposed the full hour and a half must have passed since everyone who was still writing was instructed to hand in their tests. You had managed to finish just in time, but you weren’t feeling very good about how you had done.

You made your way out of the classroom to where your boyfriend had been waiting for you, laying across a few chairs he had somehow come into possession of. As you got closer to him, he looked up from his phone and stood up. He was happy to see you but also rather concerned about how upset you looked.

“How did it go?”

He spoke with uncharacteristic softness and concern.

“I don’t think it went very well…”

You felt rather hopeless about the whole situation and had already resigned yourself to failure.

“Come on, with how hard you’ve worked? I’m sure that you did just fine.”

You didn’t respond, choosing to instead stare dejectedly at the floor. Scaramouche offered a soft smile.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. We can go get food and watch a movie.”

You stayed silent for a moment, thinking over the proposal.

“That actually sounds really nice.”

“Come on then.”

He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his car.

~ ♡ ~

It had been exactly nineteen days since you had taken your midterm, and you had finally been emailed the results. You sat at your computer staring at the unopened email. You knew that you had probably failed, but you didn’t want to know that you had actually failed. You took a deep breath, did your best to relax your body, and opened the email. You scanned through the words and eventually found your results. You had passed. You swore you had never felt so relieved in your life. Granted, you had only gotten a 58, but that was more than enough for you. You wiped away a few tears of relief and flopped back in your chair. You took out your phone and called your boyfriend.

“Hello-”

“I passed.”

“Seriously?!”

“Yes!”

“Well that’s no surprise. You have me as your tutor, afterall.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face. Although he was clearly trying to hide it, pride was evident in his voice.

“Thank you, baby.”

You heard Scaramouche let out a little puff of air from his nose.

“Wanna come over so we can celebrate?”

“I guess I can.”

“Did you pass?”

“Is that even a question?”

“Well congratulations, you are the reason everyone hates being marked on a curve.”

You actually heard your boyfriend laugh at that.

“It’s not my fault you’re all inept.”

“Are you coming or not?”

There was a brief silence.

“I’ll bring food.”

“See you at 5:00?”

“Alright, love you.”

And with that, he hung up. You sighed and sent an “I love you too” text.

You spent the rest of your day doing some chores and some reading, and eventually, Scaramouche was knocking on your door. He brought an obscene amount of sushi, and somehow, the two of you managed to eat all of it.

It was a nice evening. Scaramouche was in a surprisingly good mood(he wouldn’t admit it, but he was quite pleased that you had managed to pass your midterm), and there wasn’t anything left to stress about.

The two of you sat on your couch, scrolling through streaming services. You were nestled under your boyfriend’s arm as he navigated to netflix and started scrolling through movies.

“So what movie do you want to watch?”

“Pride and-”

“No.”

“But you said I could pick!”

“Only if you pick a good movie.”

“You haven’t even seen it!”

“Too bad. I’m picking now.”

You sighed but didn’t really protest. You usually ended up liking whatever movies he chose anyway. This time, however, you had gotten somewhat bored about halfway through “Inception” and decided to grab your phone to scroll through whatever app seemed interesting.

“You know, if you’re bored, we can do something else.”

The prospect of doing something different admittedly interested you, so you decided to go along with it.

“Sure. What did you have in mind?”

A small smile made its way onto Scaramouche’s face as he stood up, turning off the tv and reaching out his hand to you. You took it and followed him to your bedroom. You certainly weren’t going to complain if he wanted to reward you for passing. As you stood at the end of your bed, he stood away from you, leaning against the now closed door.

“Take off your clothes.”

You blushed, slightly embarrassed by how blunt he was but did as you were told anyway. You began to pull your shirt over your head when he stopped you.

“No. Slowly.”

You looked away from him, even more embarrassed now, and started slowly sliding your hands up your sides, bunching up your shirt as you brought it farther up your body. You pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the ground beside you. Next, you undid the button on your pants and slid the zipper down, but before you could begin to slide them down your legs, you were stopped once again by yet another command.

“Turn around.”

You silently obeyed and turned to face away from him as you slid your pants off, bending at the waist, knowing exactly what your boyfriend wanted from you. When you finally kicked off your pants, you turned back around to face Scaramouche. He had a little smirk resting on his face, and you could now see a bulge beginning to make itself known in his pants. Despite the number of times the two of you had fucked, you were still embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him.

“Why are you stopping?”

Your blush darkened as you reached behind you to undo your bra, letting it fall to the ground and then turning around once again to slide off your panties. Scaramouche bit his lip as he watched you. Fuck, you were so good for him. It’s too bad he had to punish you for almost failing your midterm, not that you were aware of that yet.

You turned around once again to face your boyfriend, and he began to move towards your closet, where he kept a few things for situations such as these. You were a little confused as to why he would want to use any of those things when he was rewarding you, but you didn’t question him. You fully trusted Scaramouche and knew he would never hurt you… well, unless you wanted him to. You continued not to question him when he brought out a coil of rope and told you to get on your hands and knees on the bed.

Although, you were still confused. He knows that you like being able to touch him, so why would he be using rope? You finally decided to question his actions when he had finished tying you up, a bad choice on your part. He had just finished the last knot when you piped up.

“Uh, why are you tying me up?”

“Because stupid little whores don’t get to touch me.”

Okay, now you were very confused.

“But I thought-”

“Dumb girls who almost fail their exams don’t get rewarded.”

His words would hurt if you didn’t know how proud of you he was.

“But-”

You felt his hand land hard and heavy on your ass, and your words morphed into a little shout of pain. You tried to wiggle away from him, but with your calves tied to your thighs and your hands tied behind your back, you couldn’t move an inch. You felt his hand land again on the other side of your ass as he reiterated his point.

“Don’t you think brainless sluts should get punished? I’m sure it’ll help get some sense into that empty head of yours.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. You heard him step away, and with you unable to move, you had no idea what was coming next. As his footsteps came closer again, you felt a finger run along your slit.

“You’re so wet already, pathetic.”

Your cheeks were burning. As he began to play with your clit, you started to let out little moans and whines. Fuck, he was good at that. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers starting to push in and out of you rhythmically. If he kept going, you were going to cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It felt so good. It felt like he was turning off your brain. All you wanted was for him to make you cum, and maybe for his cock to be inside of you. That would be nice too.

“Fuck, master, I’m going to cum!”

As soon as those words left your mouth, his fingers had been removed from you.

“No! Please! I need it! Please, let me cum!”

You were so close. You needed it so bad. Scaramouche knew that, and frankly, he couldn’t care less. Stupid girls don’t get to cum.

He teased you like this for at least half an hour, although it felt like an eternity. He kept bringing you to the edge just to steal away your end with a derisive laugh.

“Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound?”

You let out a particularly pathetic whine.

“‘Oh, master, please let me cum! I’ll be a good girl, please!’. You’d be worthless if you didn’t feel so good on my cock.”

Warm tears slid down your face, but you could feel yourself get wetter at his words. Scaramouche walked around the bed so he could take your face in his hands.

“Fuck, you look pretty when you cry.”

More tears ran down your face, despite the warmth you felt from his words.

“I should just keep you tied up so you can cry for me and be a good little fleshlight. That sounds nice, right, slut?”

You nodded, not quite sure how to respond. He laughed and walked back behind you. You tried to wiggle away, but you were still helplessly at his mercy.

You heard the clicking sounds of him taking off his belt, and you felt adrenaline shoot through your body. Finally, you were going to feel his cock inside of you.

However, your hopes were quickly dashed when you felt the harsh sting of a belt hit your ass. You screamed. Scaramouche laughed.

“You like that, don’t you, princess?”

You cried louder now, the sound only serving to make your boyfriend more turned on. Once again, you felt his belt come into harsh contact with your ass.

“Count.”

You let out a little shout of pain as another hit came.

“One!”

Your counting was followed by a whimper of pain and a light laugh from Scaramouche. Then the belt came down again.

“Two!”

You whimpered in pain, and your fists clenched behind your back, your nails digging into your palms. You didn’t know how long this would continue for, but you were ready to take whatever he chose to give you, as you always did.

Three more hits came from his belt, each one followed by a shot of pain and a number.

“Five!”

You readied yourself for another hit, but it never came. You jumped when you felt him gently rest his hand between your shoulders, slowly tracing his way down to your waist. Suddenly, he removed his hand, and you could hear him stepping away. He came to sit on the bed in front of you. He rested a hand on your cheek once again and leaned into you.

“Do you want to cum? Hmm?”

He smiled at you mockingly. You nodded emphatically.

“Please! I need to cum, master! Need it so bad!”

He couldn’t help but snicker at how pathetic you sounded.

“Well, if you want it so bad, then okay. I’ll make you cum, sweetheart.”

Fuck. If he’s saying yes, there has to be a catch… unless… was he done punishing you? You quickly got your answer when your boyfriend stood and walked back to where you couldn’t see him.

You heard him fiddling with something, and after a few moments, you felt something cold and plastic run up your slit a few times, collecting your wetness before finally pushing inside of you.

You knew what was coming, but you couldn’t stop the whine that you let out when the dildo started vibrating intensely. You started whining and moaning, not being prepared for the pleasure. Scaramouche walked in front of you once again, this time with a ballgag in hand. He pushed it inside of your mouth and tied it behind your head.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

And with that, you could hear your boyfriend walk out of the room and close the door, his light laughter trailing behind him. You tried to call out to your boyfriend, but everything came out garbled between broken moans. He wouldn’t leave you tied up for too long… right?

~ ♡ ~

You had no idea how long you had been left tied up like this, and you had lost count of how many times you had come. All that you knew was that you were exhausted. Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door clicked open. He was back. Without saying a word, he turned off the vibrations and gently pulled out the toy. He walked around to sit in front of you and untied the gag, removing it from your mouth.

“Did you learn your lesson, princess?”

He smiled as if he were talking to a child. You nodded your head.

“Mhm!”

“Good girl.”

He stroked his thumb on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. He started to untie you, going through all the knots until you were finally free. You stretched your sore limbs as Scaramouche left the room in search of a warm cloth.

Eventually, he reappeared with a warm cloth and an extra blanket. He cleaned you up and wrapped you in the soft blanket before carrying you back to the couch so the two of you could finish the movie.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @izzalovesdilfs @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez @k4ze3e @kenmabfasf @vvyeislazzy @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @hopeless-smvt @bloomingheartz @crazydreamcat @kazumiku @str4wb3rizz @kyon-cherri @ravereina @ashrodisiac

morbific-or-felicific.

#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧ #scaramouche.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ #mae.melts🧊*•̊ⴰ✧ #personally i think this is fantastic but that’s just me #i hope you all like the food i’m sorry it took me so long #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche smut #genshin smut #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #afab reader #female reader

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak-Mid Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse) 

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, Tommy eating, Mr.Campbell, sexual harassment, reader eats, Thomas Shelby ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) ( Also Y/N is on dick, IDKY she acts like this)

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually.

             Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  

*******************************************

You heard the paramedics before you saw them; you were sitting at the nurse's station having a late dinner amongst the other nurses when they burst through the door shouting.

"Male, early thirties, beaten severely, Bp 80/60, in and out of consciousness" 

You had rushed over and led them to the next available room in the ER; so you and the doctor may start your examination. The doctor surprisingly showed up with the emergency instead of half an hour later. The paramedics set the man down on the gurney and got out of your way, but not before calling the man lying in front of you by name and assuring him that he was in good hands.

'Wait" you yelled after the paramedic, making them stop and face you 

"You know this man, your family … or friend," you asked as you prepared a bucket of warm water with soap.

"No, miss, he's not friend nor family; I just recognized him, is all." the paramedic responded with a tight smile.

"And his name," you asked cause you didn't catch it the first time he said it. 

"Thomas"

You thanked the man before turning back to your patient. You started to wipe away the blood and mud that caked his face making him unrecognizable, to the point where you were confused about how that gentleman had recognized him. 

You continued down his body, cleaning him up where need be so the doctor could assess and work properly. As you cleaned a nasty cut along his bruised ribs, he began to stir, and his eyes opened. 

"Sir, hi, do you know your name," the doctor asked him as he flashed a light in and out of his eyes

The doctor waited, but the man didn't answer, that's when the doctor looked towards you for help. 

You grab the mans hand, squeezing it, causing him to look in your direction; you smile gently at him before asking him, slowing.

"Sir, do you know your name"

"M- my my name," he whispered, out of breath 

"Yes sir, do you know it" You squeezed his hand again, encouraging him along 

"It's Thomas"

"Very good," you praised him

"My name is Thomas Shelby." 

You froze right in your tracks, dropping his hand and stepping back. You heard the doctor praise him for getting it right before asking questions about his pain, medical history, and allergies. 

The doctor waved his hand towards you, motioning towards you to write his responses down, but you didn't even acknowledge him. You couldn't even move. 

Thomas Shelby, thee Thomas Shelby. The most dangerous man in Birmingham is lying on your table with his life in your hands. 

It was starting to all make sense now, why the paramedics knew him but didn't associate himself with him, why the doctor had rushed over so quickly to care for him. 

You then realize that If this man dies, then you die. 

That was all you needed to hear; you grabbed your clipboard, pulled yourself together, and began to write down the things you heard. The doctor finished his assessment, and told Thomas he would come back shortly to take him to surgery, and he would have the nurse give him a couple of papers to sign while he waited. 

You rearranged the papers on your clipboard, putting the ones he needed to sign in front, then grabbed an IV and Morphine bag to set up a line. You handed him the clipboard as you put the bags on the hanger and began to put gloves on.

"What that," he asked, his head nodding towards the two bags as he turned the pages signing each of them before looking at you directly in your eyes.

"I -i-its a-a mo-morphi-e dr-drip a-and an IV ba-bag.”

You might have spoken more clearly if he wasn't staring at you with those eyes. It wasn't like what you had thought. You always thought that if you ever looked this man in the eyes, it would be no different than looking at the devil himself, especially after all the stories you have heard and the people you've seen who have been sent to the hospital in body bags after their dealings with him. 

You expected to see hundreds of souls trapped behind his eyes, but instead, you just see a man, nothing more, just a man.  

"Your papers," Thomas said, handing you back your clipboard as he looked at you looking at him.

"T-Thank you," you replied, tearing away your gaze as you walked towards the end of his bed, placing the clipboard along the edge. 

You then walked back up to him, took his arm, and searched for a vein before placing the IV.

You flashed him a smile before snatching your gloves off and waking out of the room for much-needed air. 

You walked till you were out of his sight, then you pressed your back against the wall before sliding down it all the way and placing your head in between your knees. 

You breathed in and held it before breathing out; you repeated this action four more times before you started to calm down. You sat there for a few more seconds before the doctor returned with more people to begin moving Thomas to surgery.

"You think you can scrub in, or do you need a minute," the doctor said to you, his voice laced with annoyance.

You nodded your head as you stood up and followed him. You ignored his comment toward you as you had understood that this man holds Thomas Shelby's life in his hands, and there is no room for him to fail. 

When you came into the room, the other nurse had already started to change Thomas into a gown and put a net on his head. You went around the gurney and flipped the stoppers on the wheels so that you may move it when ready. 

Soon he was all changed, and it was time to move. You had placed yourself at the head of the bed while the other two nurses stood at the side. 

"Let's go," you said as the three of you began pushing Mr.Shelby down the hall toward the surgery wing.

As you walked down the hall, you tried your hardest to not look down, even though you felt eyes on you, burning you as they looked at you. You tried to keep your eyes straight, but you couldn't and decided to look down. And when you did, you saw his bright blue eyes staring right back at you.

 His eyes are intense and chilling, yet you still stare at him as he stares at you. But his stare has more meaning behind it; he's looking at you curiously, even turning his head to, what you guess, is to get a look at your name tag. 

You break away your eyes from his as you hit the doors to the surgical wing pushing them open. You push him toward his room before leaving to wash up for his surgery as the other nurses get him ready and into place. 

After scrubbing up, you dry your hands before placing fresh gloves on them. And walking over to Mr.Shelby and sitting on a stool at his head. 

"Ok, Mr.Shelby, we're about to start your surgery. Today you are having surgery on your liver and kidney, which both have ruptured. I'm going to place the mask on your face and have you count back from ten, ok," You say to him as you set up the oxygen and gas machine for him.

He nodded his head, and you processed to place the mask on his face and nodded towards him to begin counting backward.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six….." 

You secured the mask before standing on the opposite side of the doctor. 

The surgery took four hours when It was only meant to take two; most of the time, Doctor Brown was on his game, but today, You had assumed that it was because of who the patient was that he was nervous and stressed himself out. But that wasn't the case; he became sloppy, too sloppy, to the point where you had to take over,  finish and close-up. And when you had gone over to his side to take over, you had smelled it, on his breath, Whiskey. You couldn't believe that he would take a drink before performing surgery on a patient. You m didn't say anything though and simply left it as if it was him being nervous that he held Thomas Shelby's life in his hands. 

****************

The next time you saw Thomas awake was when you went into his room to check his vitals.

“ Good Morning Mr.Shebly; how are we doing today,” You asked as you garbed his wrist, checking his heart rate and writing it down before moving to check his blood pressure with the wrap. 

“ Thomas and Fine”

“ Well, Mr.Shelby, that’s Great to hear; how’s your pain on a scale from one to ten,” you asked as you wrote down his blood pressure and moved on to check his IV and Morphine bag. 

“ Thomas and 7” 

“ Mkay, you can turn up your morphine drip with this dial “ You stopped taking to show him the action of the cord before continuing, “ And I see you haven’t eaten …….. Thomas.” 

“ I can tell you know who I am, so you know that I can not eat any old food brought up by any old nurse.”

“ Well, I assure you the food isn’t poisoned.” 

“ Please do; go ahead and have a bite.” 

“ Sure,” You said with a smile as you reached down and grabbed the spoon before scooping up some mashed potatoes and bringing them to your lip.

You were about to take a bite when you thought about it; this is Thomas Shebly, Birmingham's very own gangster; he probably has a lot of enemies. 

They could be in the hospital right now or were when they poisoned his food. You looked down at the spoon before looking over at him.

“ I will get you a new trey made by me personally,” You said as you gathered your things and the tray and headed for the door.

“ And how do I know I can trust you,” he asked with a straight face 

“ Why would I save your life and perform surgery on you just to kill you a couple hours later.” 

He responded with a nod in agreement 

“ Oh, and Thomas, you a visitor a Mr.Campbell, shall I send him in”

“ Yes” 

You let the door shut behind you as you walked down the hall, briefly stopping at Mr.Campbell to tell him that Thomas may see him now before going down the steps to the kitchen. 

The closer you got to the basement, the louder it got, people, yelling, pans slamming against each other, and the smell of piss and bleach was so strong it made you gag and shiver. 

The kitchen was the first door on the right. You entered and immediately regretted it. Two rather large men were in the kitchen; though you don’t come down here often, you know that you’ve never seen these men in this hospital anywhere and that they weren’t the chefs.

“ Can I help you miss?” the shorter of the two men asked 

“ Um, a patient of mine didn’t receive his food, Ive come down to retrieve him some.” You replied, your eyes shifting between the two as you walked up to the window in the wall.

“ Which, uh…. I mean, what’s your patient's name” the taller one asked as he stood up from leaning against the wall.

“ W-why” 

“ Standard procedure,” the taller one said to you, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped closer.

You thought for a second and came to the conclusion that you would instead give this strange man a name than pick a fight you most certainly can’t win.

“It's for Mr.Shelby, Thomas Shelby” 

“ Ah, Mr.Shelby, ok, one meal coming right up,” The short one said as he turned to grab a plate and began putting food on it.

You tried to watch him carefully as he fixed the plate, but the taller man stepped in front of you, blocking your view and taking up the whole window.

He bent down to your eye level before he began talking.

“ What’s a pretty nurse like you doing down here? You don’t run food.”

His breath reeked of cigarettes and rum, making your face scrunch up in disgust before stepping back. 

“ All the food runners were busy, and Mr.Shebly needed food; I don’t mind doing another job; I’m happy to help.” 

You realized that now that you’re not as close, you can see more, not much, but you did see when the other man sprinkled something all over Thomas's food before giving everything a quick mix. 

You look back only to catch the tall man looking at you, well, more like at your body, which you were very grateful for, seeing as you didn’t get caught. 

“ Oi, here’s the food, miss,” The shorter man said, handing you the plate after the taller one moved out of the way.

“ Thank you,” you said before scarring off.

You dumped the food in the trash in the hall before jogging upstairs; you passed the nurse's station before turning right back around and reaching under the station table to grab your paper bag with your lunch. 

Then you headed straight for Thomas's room. You opened the door and closed it behind you locking it.

You see Thomas sitting on the bed, struggling to bring his cigarette to his lips. 

You walk over and place your bag on the bed before snatching it out of Thomas's hands and taking a hit of it yourself. You breathe in the cig and pace the floor several times before blowing it out.

“ What, what happened,” Thomas asked 

“ Two men in the kitchen, they didn’t belong. I know that for a fact; one blocked my view as they fixed your plate, and I swear, I fuckin swear I saw him put something in it,” you said, looking at him before taking another long drag and putting the cig back in his hands.

You begin to pace again, not feeling yourself calm down despite taking a couple of drags of the cig; you still don’t know why people smoke them things.

“ And,” Thomas began as he pressed his lips to the cig before taking a long drag and breathing it out, “ Where is the food now.”

“ I threw it out, of course; I’m not gonna get blamed for making a hit on Thomas Shelby,” you said, throwing your hands up as you looked at him with your head cocked to the side, confusion written all over your face.

Thomas took another long drag before saying, “ Welp, problem solved.”

“ H-how can you be so cool about this? They tried to kill you.” 

“ Darlin, I’m in here cause someone tried to kill me, it's not the first, and it's not the last time,”  he said before taking one last drag and putting the cig out. 

He looked at you momentarily before tilting his head and pointing toward the brown bag at the edge of his bed.

“ Oh, since we can’t trust the food, I’ve brought you my lunch, which we know is not poisoned. And before you decline, you going to be needing your strength. I’m assuming that you will be cutting your time here short.” You said as you took the food out of the bag and walked over to the stove in the room. 

“It's soup, so I must heat it; while it's heating, I’ll pack a goody bag of bandages and cleaning wipe, some morphine too; when do you think you’ll be out of here.” You asked as you filled the pot with the soup before placing it on the burner and turning it on. 

“ I’ll be out by tonight.”

Your head snapped over to look at him 

“ What,” he asked 

“It's just too far too soon for a man with injuries like yours to be traveling 

 on foot, are you going far”

“ Far enough”

“ I’ll help you to where ever you are going,” you said, walking back over to his bed. 

“ And why should I trust you.”

“ Well, let’s see, I just saved your life, and like you said, Mr.Shebly, I know who you are and what you do. And I’ve decided that I’d rather have you as a friend than an enemy,” You said before walking over to the door, unlocking it, stepping out, shutting it behind you, and locking it again. 

You then heading off to collect supplies. 

By the time you got back, the soup was ready, and you poured it back into the bowl and brought it over to Thomas, who tried to sit up but was too weak and fell back into the bed. You quicken your pace to him and set the bowl on the table before helping him sit up.

“ Slow down; you mustn’t tear your stitches,” You told him, placing pillows behind his back and helping him sit up.

He reaches for the soup but winches again in pain, he tries again, but you slap his hand. 

“ Let me, “ you said as you picked up the bowl from the table 

“ No, I can feed myself. “

“ Obviously not, now open wide,” you say as you dip the spoon in the bowl and hold it to his lips. 

He just looks at you with a straight face; you drop the spoon back into the bowl.

“ I’m sorry,” you say with a light laugh, “ but please, you need to eat” You bring the spoon out of the bowl again before placing it into his mouth.

You stay silent as he eats, repeating your actions over and over again. Bringing the spoon down to the bowl and scooping up some soup before bringing it to his lip. You do this while looking up, down, at the soup, and then at him, all while his eyes stay on you. 

Soon you are on your last spoonful of soup, and you accidentally cause some soup to run down his lip as you had pulled it out too soon. You immediately grab a napkin bringing it up to his chin.

“ Sorry, I-“ he cuts you off, grabbing your writs, stopping it mid-air, looking you right in your eyes.

“ I’ve got it,” he said as he grabbed the napkin from your hands before wiping his chin, then licked his lips. 

Your eyes trail down his face onto his body, slowly as you study every part of him, taking your time before returning to his face. And still, his eyes are on you, lookin' at you as you look at him.

“ Do you want to fuck” he asked 

You panicked 

“What? No, I was just c-checking on your body like, umm, you cut and bruises to make sure everything looked good,” you said while standing up, taking the bowl with you, and placing it back in your brown sack. 

“ Well….  Um, you leave tonight. I will be back to help you get dressed after my shift. We can go; I, uh, have other patients to check on, so I’ll be back then, and I’ll keep the door locked, ok.” You say, keeping your eyes on the ground as you collect your things and made haste towards the door. You quickly open the door shutting it and locking it before leaning against it.

This is Thomas Shelby, a cold-hearted killer, you tried to convince yourself. But man is that man easy on the eyes. You blow out a puff of air before placing your things back under the table at the nurse's station and walking off to check on your other patients.

**************

You finished your work quickly and got off earlier than anticipated; it was around 10 when you headed towards Thomas Way. 

You unlocked his room and entered; you didn’t bother turning on some light; the moon provided enough light, and you were trying not to draw attention to yourselves.

You slowly walked over to him; he was sleeping on his back; you got up close to him before whispering.

“ Thomas…… Thomas wakes up” You reached down towards him to shake him a bit “ Thom-“ 

He reached up and grabbed your wrist, but unlike last time, it wasn’t gentle. You struggled to free your hand from his grip as you pulled back while he looked at you, confused.

“ Thomas, it's me, please” You let a cry slip as you tried to get him to understand. It was clear that Thomas wasn’t all the way there. 

“ Thomas,” you said a bit louder, causing him to let go of your wrist.

He shook his head and looked down before looking back up at you and your wrist, which you now cradled in your other hand 

“ I-Im so-“ You cut him off before he finished

“It's fine, come on, sit up,” you said as you grabbed his shoulder, guiding him the way you wanted him to sit. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed before you walked towards the back room to gather his clothes and walked back. 

You placed his top on the bed before getting on your knees to put his socks and pants on. This time you heard no complaint from him as you helped him. After you put on his socks, you scrunched up his pants legs before putting them around his ankles.

You then pulled them up to his thighs as far as they would go before clearing your throat. He then stood up, and you stood up with him slowly pulling the pants up as you went. He almost fell when he stood tall, catching himself before he did so using your shoulder to balance himself. 

You pulled the pants to his waist, tugging a bit before zipping them up and buttoning them. You keep your head down, even though you want to look up; you feel his eyes on you, looking down at you. His whole body towering over you. It was equally as inviting as it was intimidating. 

He moved his hand slowly down your arm

to your wrist. He took it into his hands and brushed over it softly. 

“ I’m sorry.” 

His words made you look up at him 

“It’s fine.”

He drops your wrist, and you reach down and pick up his shirt, bunching it up in your hands as you stand on your tippy toes to place it over his head. 

He bent down to help you carefully slip his arm into his shirt before pulling it down and tucking it into his pants. You then click his suspender into place before slipping them over his shoulder. 

After you get back on your knees, place his shoes on his feet and tie them. When you finished, you helped him put his coat on. You grab the rest of the things you packed for him and place them in a bag before tucking them in his coat.Lastly, you grab his hat, place it on his head, pulling it down to cover his face more. 

“ Ok, so we’ll stop at the nurse station so I can grab my thing, then we’ll head towards the back of the hospital to leave; that way, no one will see you,”  You say as you start walking towards the door.

You walk out the door and towards the station, grabbing your coat, placing it on, then your purse, before walking to the backend of the hospital. 

You grab Thomas's hand, pulling him closer as you begin to approach the final long stretch of hallway.

“ I have to keep you close so people will assume we’re together.” You say 

“ Why,” he asks 

“ Cause …….. “ you trail off, “this part of the hospital is where people bring others to have…… a good time. That’s why it's the perfect place to leave. There’s no security and no one’s concerned with who comes and goes.”

“ Ah, so you do what to fuck” 

You immediately stop in track and face him,

“I do not Im trying to “ You stop mid-sentence when you see a slight smile on his face. He’s joking, trying to ease the heavy tension between you two. 

You grab his hand again, pulling him along the rest of the way, ignoring the people in your peripheral who are getting to know each other. You finally get to the door pushing it open and are greeted with a rush of cold air. 

You and Thomas step out of the hospital into the south parking lot, which is entirely empty. You look at Thomas, waiting for him to lead the way; he wraps his arm around you, placing some of his weight on you as he starts walking.

“ Is it far where we’re going?” you ask, looking up at your breath dancing in the air. 

“ No, not far, 30 minutes at most” 

Besides the occasional whine from Thomas, the rest of your walk is quiet. As you near your destination, or you assumed cause, Thomas asks you, “ You live near here or far? If so, I’ll have one of my men walk you home.”

“ Oh, now I have peaky protection; this friendship is starting off better than I thought. But yeah, I live close no need for a chaperone, though. I’ve lived in Birmingham all my life. I know how to take care of myself.” 

And that’s the end of that conversation; soon, you approach some gates to a well-known boatyard. 

“ We’ve arrived,” you asked

“ We have; I can make it from here,” he says, and you let him go 

“ Very well, Thomas, till next time, bye.” 

He nods his head towards you and says your name before walking away. Your heart skips a beat never having heard him say your name till now, and you never told him. You can only assume that he read your name tag at some point. You flash him a smile before walking home. 

Since you got home late that night, you didn’t have to sneak in to avoid your landlord. You were a couple of weeks behind on rent, the hospital didn’t pay well, and these apartments were a bit out of your reach, but they were the only ones that were halfway decent and not rat infested. 

The next couple of days, you continued to work double shifts so you could make enough money from rent. Every day, people asked you if you were ok, you had been forgetting to complete things and messing small tasks up. 

This was unlike you, but every time you let yourself think, your mind would drift off to Thomas. You kept rethinking every moment you were together, replaying every moment like it was a scene from a movie. 

Eventually, you were told to take the rest of the day off; people assumed you were too tired to concrete, seeing that you had worked doubles for the last three days. You didn’t protest because you had to admit you were pretty tired. 

When you arrived home, you wished you had fought the people at the hospital a little more.

As soon as you walked into your building, you ran into your landlord, who was collecting his mail from his box.

“ Sir, good afternoon. I don’t have your money now, but soon, I will have it in full soon, and I shall give it to you no later than next week.” 

His body wasn’t facing you, and he didn’t answer you, so you reached out and touched his shoulder.

“ Sir ?”

“ Huh, oh, it's you; I hope you weren’t talking to me; I don’t mean to be rude. My ears haven’t been working the best of late.”

He was talking, but you weren’t really paying attention; he had some nasty fresh bruises on his face, cuts above his eyes, swollen eyes, and a busted leaking lip that he kept bringing a towel up to dab. 

“ Sir, what happened? And I said I will have my rent to you by next week.”

“ Oh no, I’m fine, just some bumps and bruises, and no need to have the rent to me; from now on, you live here for free,” he said and started to walk off.

“ But sir, wait, I don’t understand why,” you asked, yelling after him

“ What was it that them peaky boys had said” Your eyes immediately widened; you had caused this. “Oh yeah, the rent for the girl is free, or the house burns down.”  

You were about to apologize, but he had already returned to his apartment. You stood there for a good minute before heading upstairs and fixing some tea and food.

You sat down and ate your snack, staring at the wall as you sipped your tea. Then you laughed and kept laughing; your landlord was a horrible man who once tried to get you to offer sex as payment, and by getting, he locked you out of your apartment until you had his rent, you had only been a day late when he did it, and it took you a week to get his money. You had to sneak into your apartment through the window every night and leave out the same way every morning.

He got what was coming for him, with his crazy rent prices like we live in the city. 

You smiled; this becoming friends thing with Thomas was already working for you. You had hoped that, that wasn’t the last time you saw Thomas.

And it wasn’t. 

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fanfic #oppenheimer #cillian x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #cillian murphy fanfiction #john shelby #arthur shelby

[luveline]

Since we’ve seen zombie au with Steve may we have a little something of vampire!eddie?

Sorry I don’t have any sort of plot in mind, I just think vampire!eddie is cool :)

thank u for your request! vampire!eddie x ditzy!reader

"Eddie," you say, in that meandering way you do, like talking is a pastime with no urgent goal at the end, "one of your friends is in the bathroom."

Eddie blinks, the spoon in his hand quickly put back into the bowl of cereal it had risen from. "What?" 

"One of your friends is in the bathroom," you say, and only now does he notice you have soap all over your face. Suds in your brows and the baby hairs of your hairline, across the soft hill of your chin and at your nostrils. 

"Baby, you've half-washed your face. Come here." 

You sit at the dining table beside him and Eddie sets to work, one hand on your thigh, the other your face as he dabs the soap away with his hoodie sleeve. Your eyes flutter closed at his gentle touches. Eddie feels satisfaction in knowing you trust him to be so close while you're unguarded. You've never been scared of him, but Eddie is scary. He can hear your heart slow as he finishes, and that's when he wonders why it had been beating quickly to begin with.

He tries not to listen to your heart. It plagues him when he's hungry, and it feels like a strange invasion of privacy. "Sorry, it's freaky, but I can hear your heart–" 

"Sorry for what?" you ask. 

Eddie shakes his head fondly and chucks you under the chin. He wants to go back to his cereal, but he continues, "What has your pulse up?" 

"I told you, baby, there's a friend in the bathroom." 

Eddie knows better than to expect an explanation. He puts his bowl of cereal in front of you in case you're hungry, kisses the top of your head, and goes to investigate the bathroom. 

Eddie's shocked as he opens the door. The bathroom is in extreme disarray, which isn't unusual for you typically but he cleaned it last night, and you may be scatterbrained but you don't often leave the faucet blasting hot water full pelt. He turns it off, collects the pile of tipped laundry on the floor, and wonders how best to ask you if you're feeling alright when he notices something alarmingly large. Your soapy face is explained, as well as your quick-beating heart. You must've seen what he's seeing and run away. 

"Holy fuck," he says, flinching back hard into washing machine. "Holy fuck! What the fuck is that?" 

"So you've found your friend?" you ask from the hallway. 

Eddie scrambles sideways out of the bathroom and into the hall with you, almost knocking the bowl of cereal clean from your hands. "That thing is not my friend." 

"What? I thought you liked spiders, they subsist off of the same kinds of things," you murmur, a little drop of milk at the corner of your mouth. You lick it away absentmindedly.

"A spider could slap my ass and hand me a cheque for a million bucks and I still wouldn't like him," Eddie denies, peering into the bathroom cautiously. The Spider had been hanging down from a web and nearly as big as Eddie's hand. He's not making friends with that. "And how about you, huh? I thought you liked spiders? You keep enough of them." 

Sometimes you'll keep a spider inside of a mason jar for artistic purposes, sketching them before setting them free. "Yeah, Eds, I like spiders," you say around your spoon, "not tarantulas." 

He waves a hand at you, vaguely irritated. You giggle and offer him a spoonful of cereal, which he accepts. The two of you stand and chew with your backs against the bannister, staring at the bathroom door. Too afraid to look away, and too afraid to go back inside. 

"Wanna seal it off?" he asks eventually, morosely, knowing he's not brave enough to go and deal with it. 

"Yes." You scrape the bottom of the bowl with the spoon. "We could call Steve?" 

"I'm not calling Steve." 

"Okay. Hey, this could be good for us. Peeing outside connects you to nature, or something." 

Eddie sighs and rubs his pale face. He's way too hungry to deal with this, for both cereal and something less family friendly. He can't tell you, though. You keep offering to let him bite you. "Alright," he sighs. "I'll call Harrington." 

"Then you'll have two friends in the bathroom," you say, nearly to yourself as you begin down the stairs, "like a party. I'll go make you some more cereal." 

"Thanks, sweetheart," Eddie says with a relieved laugh, closing the bathroom door and drawing a cross against the woodgrain.

He doesn't notice the shadow of his definitely-not-friend as it squeezes under the doorway.

#love bites universe #vampire!eddie #vampire!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[deadlynavigation]

Satan's My Fuckbuddy

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Blitzø x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of smut in the beginning and end.

Author's Note: Sorry Lilith. More of this to come, guys. I may turn this into a series.

I do not own Helluva Boss. Pls don't come after me.

Do not copy, plagiarize, or translate any of my works or their assets.

Navigation

"You know, you could've told me you and the big boss himself used to fuck," Blitzø pants, his head turning to look back at the city's firey ruins.

"Oh, sorry," you respond breathlessly, a sickly sweet smile spready across your face. "I wasn't aware that little bit of information would lead to us running from a burning city after almost being banned from everything Hell has to offer!" By the time you finish your rant, you're almost screaming, and Blitzø's put another foot of space between you two.

A boom sounds from behind you, followed by a large crash. "How many times have I told you-" your boss yells over the noise. "Sleeping with rich assholes that live six fucking rings down never ends well!"

"You think I listen to your rants about rich assholes?" You shout over another boom. A boom which sounded way too close for comfort, so you pick up the pace, Blitz doing the same.

You're almost to the elevator that will ship you back to Imp City. The isolated building that holds such transportation is in your line of sight, only a few yards or so away. And if your luck holds, you'll get there with minimal injuries-

It's too easy. Blitz's eyes widen as he realizes this, and turns over his shoulder to glance at the literal devil chasing you both.

Shit.

"Time to start sprinting, toots." Blitz turns back in a panic. Even from your peripheral vision, you can see his wide eyes and anxious expression, which prompts you to look where he had seconds ago.

What you see has you moving faster than you've ever moved before. Lucifer himself is on your tail, his devil form taking the place of his standard, human-like form. His feathered wings are spread, blocking the red sky from view. His horns are larger than usual, and his face could make any sinner fall to their knees.

Hot.

After a moment of staring at Lucifer in all his glory, you stop running. Your breaths slow and your heart stops trying to escape from your chest as you blink slowly in realization.

Blitz turns around once he notices the absense of your footfalls, only to find you completely still with Satan quickly catching up.

"Are you fucking insane?!" Your boss shrieks.

You shake your head. "Nope, just realistic. We're not gonna outrun the Devil. Why try and get in even more trouble with him?"

Blitz looks at you like you just said Moxxie was right about something. After he stands like that for a long second and comes to terms with your statement, he sighs, walking up to you as he rubs his forehead.

"If we get killed by this guy, you're paying for my next horse-riding lesson."

Your snarky response is droned out by Lucifer dropping to his feet in front of the both of you. He looks ready to rip every limb from your body and then feed them to the other's corpse, but he restrains himself, taking a deep breath and folding his wings in.

"Have you any idea what you've done, imp?" He says in a deep voice, his every syllable sending chills down your spine.

Blitz goes to respond, but you know him talking will only worsen the situation. So, you jump in, shoving a hand over your boss's mouth and speaking.

"Yes, My Lord. And from the bottoms of our hearts, we apologize, but we really must get going-"

Lucifer holds up a hand, commanding your silence. He blinks at you, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. His true form slowly melts away as he studies you.

"Y/n?" He questions softly, as though he thought he'd never see you again.

You purse your lips, half in fear, half in annoyance. Lucifer has always done things on his own time (not including his fall, of course), and that doesn't seem to have changed.

"Yup." You eventually force out. The Devil blinks one more before a smile starts to dawn on his face.

"Heyy, how've you been? Long time no see," And he brings you into a bro hug like you're long-lost friends and not past fuckbuddies.

"I've been great," you respond hesitantly once he releases you from the hug. Maybe being casual, playing it cool, will release you from the Devil's clutches. "Got another job, made some new friends. What about you?"

Lucifer beams with your reciprocation of friendliness. "Yes, I've heard of your developing social life. Al says hi, by the way. And life is great; Charlie's in on another project- I think it's a hotel -and no demons have caused an uproar. It's practically paradise."

"Good, good. Listen, it's been a good chat, but could we schedule for another time? I kinda have somewhere to be." It's not a lie- you do want to get home soon. Where there are no Satans chasing you down for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you still have that number? I'll text you the address of a nice little tea shop for next week."

"Looking forward to it," You laugh nervously and start backing away, grabbing Blitz while doing so. "All righty, I'll see you then!" And with that, you're off, walking as quickly as possible without running.

It's silent until you get into the huge elevator that'll ship you back to Imp City. Blitz is next to you, giving you a weird look.

"What?" You snap.

"Was he good in bed?"

"BliTZ-"

"Hey, he almost blew us up. I deserve an answer, at least."

You sigh. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes, it is." Your boss responds, slouching into his spot as though preparing to wait you out.

The elevator is quiet while your resolve holds for a solid two seconds.

"He did this thing-"

"Fuck yeah he did. He's Satan." Blitz interrupts.

You hit him with a glare. "Do you want this or not?"

"I do, I do. Sorry. Go on."

You stare at him a moment longer before continuing. "This thing with his hands-"

"I'd be disappointed if he didn't."

"BLITZ."

What do you think? Series or no? OR I branch out and do Hazbin Hotel oneshots? Let me know!

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #blitzo x reader #blitzo x y/n #lucifer #helluva boss x y/n #x reader #fanfiction #lilith #satan #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel