#imagine just having tea and eating and then some kid just starts saying all that stuff

[raddestrose]

Dang, those kids got the story mad twisted

#they were wildly off base like not even in the same field #where would people even come up with all of that #imagine just having tea and eating and then some kid just starts saying all that stuff #wild of them though #shen qingqiu continues to go through it #pray for that man #shen qingqiu #luo binghe #feel bad for those two students who had their worldview incorrectly shattered in the span of like five minutes cause of that story #scum villian self saving system #svsss

[notjustjavierpena]

Sucía: Part II - Hungover

A/N: Finally, a follow-up to Birthday Girl. So sorry about the wait. ALSO BE NICE TO ME SINCE I HAVEN’T WRITTEN ASSPLAY BEFORE! Can be read alone

Summary: You meet Javier again but this time, you are  hungover in a corner store and with sunglasses on inside.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, mention of f masturbation, javi is a flirt, reader is hungover and later tipsy, use of papi/daddy, alcohol consumption, classic booty call, flirty banter, dirty talk, kissing, dom/sub dynamics, blowjob, verbal humiliation, face-fucking, deepthroating, clit stim, doggy style but add a police grip, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, assplay, anal fingering, creampie, overstim, pussy eating, come eating, bit of subdrop, aftercare cuddles

Word count: 4.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48859147/chapters/123256180

Hungover

The hangover is worse than you thought it would be. It makes noises seem overwhelming to your ears, which had been fine listening to booming club music the night before, and fluorescent lights prickle at your eyes, so much so that you decide to wear sunglasses as you walk down to the corner store near your apartment building. You have the shakes, the fatigue, the savory cravings. 

But you also have the dull ache of getting harshly fucked between your legs. The memory is hardly foggy because you can’t stop thinking about it, the underlying roughness beneath Javier’s surface, and how you have spent the day in bed with your hand in your panties to try to reach even a shred of the same excitement you felt when he had you.

You reach the cooler with Arizona iced teas and rest the bottle that you pick out against your forehead. It soothes slightly. With your other hand, you find a bag of chips that you normally find disgusting. 

As you contemplate making a dip, you suddenly get the feeling of someone watching you. At first, you try to shake it but when it gets more intense, you whirl around and nearly bump into—

“Javier?” With the chips bag between your fingers, you use your index finger and thumb to peel your sunglasses off.��

“Oh, so it is you,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, raising a brow at, but not commenting on, your appearance; messy bun and gray sweatpants with an unflattering word in rhinestones across your ass. Instead, he smirks, “Bad hangover?”

“You could say that,” you say, a little embarrassed. After all, who you are in the nightlife is hardly who you are in real life, “I think I overdid it a little last night.”

“But you remember?” Javier takes a step towards you, seems unaware of doing it, and your pulse immediately spikes. 

“How could I forget?” You are not in the right attire for flirting but Javier looks pleased and relieved, even slightly amused, eyes traveling down your body as if he is trying to imagine what the baggy pants are hiding. 

“I wouldn’t want you to,” he states and suddenly starts walking towards the counter. You find yourself following him without any question. 

You swallow, trying to change the subject in case it gets too heated for public ears to hear, “What are you getting?” 

“I was just getting some cigarettes but now I’m getting a number too, aren’t I?” He gestures to the countertop and you place your chips and iced tea on it. 

“Perhaps.”

“And a pack of cigarettes,” Javier says to the cashier, a young teenager with curious eyes as he observes your interaction. Javier points to the brand that he likes and it’s added to the mix. 

“I—“ you protest. 

Javier holds up a hand and pays without a word. He rests a hand on the counter as he speaks to the teenager who is in awe by now, “You have a pen, kid?”

The cashier quickly retrieves one from underneath the counter. He hands it to Javier who turns to you, reaches out for your wrist, which burns with excitement as he touches it, and scribbles his number on your arm, “There.”

“How do you know I’ll call you?” You challenge as you pick up your things. 

“I’m pretty confident,” he shrugs, “I make an impression, I’ve been told.”

His smugness is hot and nauseating at the same time. You hit him with a line that you know only he knows the true meaning of, shoving the pack of cigarettes into your pockets too without giving him time to protest.

“Thanks, Papi,” you start heading for the door. 

Javier chuckles in disbelief. 

“Wow,” the cashier says as you leave, and despite having your back turned, you can picture him gaping at Javier who is watching you leave, “Dude, teach me your ways.”

—

You call Javier a week later. It’s in the middle of the night, you’ve been out once again, Hannah’s orders, and you don’t want to go home to your empty apartment. You aren’t drunk except for that your voice is a little louder than usual as you speak into the pay phone outside the club. 

“Are you home?” You ask.

“Are you drunk?” He interrogates.

“Just tipsy,” you reassure, confident, “Give me your address. I’ll come by… unless you’re busy.”

“I’m not.”

“Then give me your address,” you push. If you don’t get him out of your system soon, you think you might lose your mind, and what better way than to fuck it out? You sigh animatedly, try to make it sound so he can practically hear the way you are batting your lashes, “Please, Daddy.” 

“Jesus, you’re filthy,” he breathes on the other end of the line, and then gives in, “Fine, I’ll tell you my address.”

You tell it to a cab driver a moment later and soon, you are knocking on Javier’s door at three in the morning for a so-called booty call. 

He opens the door in nothing but his jeans. 

“Still dressed?” You question, “Thought I had woken you up.”

“Working,” he explains, throwing his head in the direction of his dining table. It is filled with paperwork, case files, and other documents.

“Ah,” you step through to the living room, having left your heels by the door that Javier closes behind you. 

“Whiskey?” He asks when he joins you, grabbing your elbow to get your attention and causing electricity to course through your body. You smile at him and nod, engaging in unnecessary formalities; you know that he knows you’re just here to fuck.

“If you don’t have anything else,” you tease.

When Javier serves you a glass a minute later, you knock the shot back a little too expertly but still grimace at the burn from the liquor. Javier snorts at the sight, shaking the bottle gently, “More?”

You shake your head, “You actually like that stuff?” 

“Smart mouth,” he sighs.

“Last time, you had music to drown me out,” you smirk, leaning back into your seat and feeling the warmth of the whiskey starting to spread through your body. You run a hand through your hair, “Look, you wanna fuck or drink your whiskey?”

It is nowhere near normal for you to be this bold but the warm buzz of the whiskey has made you brave like you were on the dance floor. You blink prettily at him, and he responds by placing the bottle on the glass table without making too much noise. 

“Oh, you’re a dirty one, aren’t you?” Javier’s voice has dropped to a lower pitch, and your whole core is aching for him to touch you like you know he can, “Thought you were just putting on a show for me at the club but you’re really dirty.”

“I can show you if you let me,” you say confidently but still try to compose yourself as he inches closer to you. You can see that he wants to kiss you like he did a week before, and you decide to be the one who initiates it. 

It feels different this time because his body is more exposed, showing the faint hairs scattered across his chest and the shape of his shoulders that had only been left to imagination last time and thus become a fantasy as you lay in your bed at home with two fingers inside of yourself. You grab onto them, digging your fingers into the golden skin, and moan into the kiss. His mouth is open against yours, broad hands on your waist and lower back, and he moves you a step backward every other second. 

Soon, your lips are swollen from kisses but they are not being kissed anymore. Instead, Javier has moved down to your jaw and throat, both parts stinging slightly from his mustache having scratched you. However, he soothes you with the warmth of his tongue and all is forgiven because you are so wet that you cannot think straight.  It has been a while since you have met a man who has kept you quite on your toes like he does. 

You eventually reach the bedroom, dimly lit like he knows how to make it inviting for sex. The nightstand sports several stacks of books but as curious as you are about your suitor, you focus on the bed instead. It looks like the sheets will envelop you in his scent. It is too much of an opportunity to pass up and makes you break free from his arms. The alcohol in your blood persuades you to crawl into his bed without hesitation, feeling the cotton bedding underneath your skin. 

You were right. The bed smells like him; like a mix between sleep and cologne, and it is so masculine that you turn onto your back to stare up at him with the best impression of a siren’s hazy gaze. You slide the straps of your dress off your shoulders, revealing no bra underneath it when your tits spill out as soon as you pull the front of the dress down. Javier stares without any hesitation or shame. 

“C’mere, crawl to me,” he stands by the foot of the bed, making no indication that he is going to join you. You follow his command, getting up on all fours and making your way towards the edge. The dress sits around your waist. He grins down at you, “Oh, you’re a special girl, aren’t you? Look at you doing what you’re told.”

You blink up at him, eyelashes fluttering as you reach out for his belt. He hardens underneath the denim whilst you work the buckle, and the clink of the metal causes a rush of arousal to your lower body. 

When you undo his zipper, his stomach jumps underneath no touch. He breathes deeply in through his nose, “Can’t control myself. I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth taking my dick last weekend.” 

You tug his jeans down, realizing that he has gone commando underneath. It doesn’t surprise you though, just makes you stare up at him completely wide-eyed but mostly for show. He chuckles when you gape down at his cock which has now sprung free. He seems to notice it is an act and decides to play along, “Took it so well too. Think you can repeat the success, bebita (baby)?”

You nod and then lower your head whilst still looking up at him through your lashes. He waits politely above you, arms along his sides, but shows his impatience with the way his hand twitches slightly when you breathe onto his length. 

You waste no time teasing him, wanting to show him that your talent for sucking cock is not just a skill he had imagined last time, not just a result of having been drunk on being edged by fucking your pussy open. 

You wrap your lips around the girthy head and suck as you pull off until you earn a guttural growl from him. His mouth goes slack when you engulf him in your warmth again, bobbing your head and pulling your soft lips along the shaft over and over again. A hand rests on your head.

“That’s it,” he praises and tries to keep his hips still, his hand tensing up on top of your head in a way that tells you that he is holding back from pushing forward just yet, “Recuerdo que eres sucía (I remember that you’re filthy). Suck that cock, Princesa (princess), like a whore.”

You let saliva gather in your mouth until it sounds obscene when you take more of his cock into your mouth, fitting your hand around what you cannot fit past your kiss-swollen lips. The head bumps against the back of your mouth and causes a wet gag. Javier lets out a sharp sigh of pleasure. You repeat the move until your throat squeezes around him and his fingers tangle into your hair. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he murmurs above you. Your eyes travel up his body to stare at his face, just to get a glimpse before another choke on his dick will blur your vision with tears. His eyes are closed, a crease between his brows telling you that he is concentrating on the pleasure you are giving him. 

You hum as you suck him harder, cheeks hollowed and lips stretched. There’s a determination to hear him growl like he did before since it made your pussy clench around nothing. He’ll find out the state of your panties soon enough, and you hope he’ll know that it’s the result of greedily sucking him off. 

Javier’s eyes open carefully and his fingers tighten their grip hard enough to hurt your sensitive follicles when you make eye contact. He pulses in your mouth when you smirk around him, spit dribbling down your chin from how much effort you are putting into drooling on his dick.

Whenever his breathing pattern changes, you squeeze around the base of his cock to calm his excitement down again. He gets impatient and thrusts his hips forward, the tip of his dick sliding into the tightest space of your throat. It makes you bury your nose in the hair at the base of his cock, your hand falling down into your lap when it has no more to hold. 

Tears spring from your eyes but you don’t falter. Instead, you moan pornographically to tell him it is okay, and Javier takes the opportunity to fuck your mouth until his cock is wet from both your spit and your tears. 

To steady yourself, you reach up and place a hand on his lower belly. You scratch with your nails, meeting the snaps of his lower body with a tell of experience. 

“You’re a little slut,” he groans, “I can tell you suck dick on the regular. How many have had you like this? Because I know I’m not the first.” 

You gag on him instead of giving any indication of an answer. He chuckles breathlessly and stills his hips to guide you with the hand in your hair instead, creating a makeshift ponytail to force you onto his dick. You take whatever he wants to give you, pussy so touch-starved that it makes your head spin. 

“S-stop,” he eventually moans and loosens his grip but still cannot make himself pull out of your tight wet throat, “Pull off, I— shit, baby, you almost made me come.”

You do as you are told. An obscene string of saliva connects between your mouth and the tip of his dick, and he uses a thumb to sever it by trailing the digit across your swollen bottom lip. He smiles affectionately when you suck the finger into your mouth, “Want this messy thumb on your clit, huh?” 

You nod with his finger still in your mouth. Slick arousal has started to spill through your underwear, smearing your inner thighs with how much giving him a blowjob has made you gush. You pull away, his thumb slipping from your mouth making a popping sound. 

“Legs up, come on now,” he guides after you have completely rid yourself of your dress. You lay back and scoot to the very edge of the bed. Then you try to hook your legs over his hips, but he grabs your ankles one by one to rest your feet against his front, stretching your limbs high into the air.

He makes a self-satisfied face when he guides his wet thumb underneath the fabric of your underwear to find that he had never even needed your spit; you are drenched and waiting. He scoops some of your wetness onto his thumb and then presses down on your clit, seeming to remember just where it is from last time. He swirls the digit on the swollen nub, “Right there?”

You whimper and nod. Your toes curl, “Sí (yes), Papí. Don’t stop.”

“You can still talk after getting throat-fucked like that?” He taunts but doesn’t make any indication that he’ll tease or edge you. No, he seems determined to have you remember how good he is in bed and he reminds you of it by giving your clit the attention it needs. He swirls his thumb, goes from side to side, and up and down until your voice starts growing in pitch. 

He listens, really listens, and observes your reactions to what he does and with each beat of your heart, you gush a little more slick onto the sheets. Only a minute later, you have an earth-shattering clit-orgasm that has your brows furrowed and your eyes screwed shut. 

“Fuck me,” you beg during your high but he shakes his head, and you nearly decide to lose it. Though the eyes he gives you make you unable to protest. That gaze makes it seem like you’ll take anything he says as gospel, even when your walls are spasming around nothing. He knows better, there’s no doubt about it. You await his next move, head falling back on the mattress and with big eyes fixated on the way he towers over your smaller frame. 

“Turn around,” he eventually decides, “Crawl back on the bed.”

You follow orders in your post-orgasmic state, blood rushing in your ears so you cannot be sure if you actually hear him chuckle at your shaking legs when you try crawling to the middle of the bed. You pose on your hands and knees in the sexiest manner you can manage, awaiting his cock with an obedient and desperate cunt in the air. 

Whatever your brain cannot process in your pleasurable haze, you must feel instead, and behind you, Javier’s weight makes the mattress dip beneath the both of you. He has knelt behind you and you whimper as his strong, broad palms settle on your hips to pull them into the height that he needs them to be.

“Gimme your hands,” he commands but you cannot register it fast enough when you feel so empty and weak from not being fucked, so he yanks your arms behind your back one at a time without warning. You plant your face right into the sheets with a whine that’s muffled by the fabric until you think to turn your head to the side. This time, you are sure about the fact that he is laughing darkly at you. 

You realize he has you in a police grip, able to do whatever he wants and you realize that he wants to fuck you raw, no piece of rubber between you. This doesn’t bother you one bit tonight.

He only lets go of your wrists to guide his cock inside of your quivering body with one hand, then holds onto your arms again with both when your warm and soft heat engulfs him. 

“Listen, bebita (baby). It’s like three in the morning and the neighbors are asleep,” he tells you and you don’t think you could ever stay quiet when he is so big inside of you. You are just about to say something but then he surprises you by finishing his sentence, “Do you understand? I’m gonna need you to scream for me.”

Oh. 

“Sí (yes), Papi,” you groan as you still try to adjust to his girth, not quite remembering that his dick had felt this huge inside of you the last time you were together. He settles deep inside of you, fills you out until you cannot take any more of him, and then pounds you.  

“Bet they’re all over you when you’re out playing a little tease in the club. I was,” he muses as he fucks you hard enough to make the bed rattle underneath you, fingers denting the delicate skin of your wrists. The headboard has already started to repeatedly bang against the wall and the sudden halts to each movement of the furniture make his thrusts painful, “Bet they wanna touch and fuck you like I get to. You know how much you make men think about sex, don’t you?”

“Javi,” you pant as he continues, not able to do much more than take it and feel the heat pool between your thighs. You are soaking wet around him, lewd noises of your stretched-out cunt sucking him in filling the room each time he goes deep enough to have you see God. 

“Can’t say anything else, can you? Fucked stupid, is that it?” He moans when you shake and nod your head, mind too foggy to figure out which move is the right one when you have gotten two questions in a row. You can only think of his huge cock driving brutally into you, “You weren’t like this last time but we weren’t— ah, fuck. We weren’t in private last time, were we?”

This time you know to shake your head. You want to come, God, you are going to soon. 

“But now I have you all to myself and I get to show this gorgeous pussy who’s boss, fuck the brat out of her,” he lets go with one hand to smack your ass harshly and groans when you squeeze around his length in surprise, a yelp tearing itself from your throat, “You like that? Make it hurt, wasn’t that what you said?”

“Yes, please,” you finally manage a coherent word that isn’t his name. The knot in your belly is starting to tighten and his rapid movements are starting to make your body respond by building up a high, “Yes, I do, don’t stop! You— you’re gonna make me come, Papi.”

He growls and seeks his own satisfaction and pleasure, knowing that he won’t need to do anything else to make you come again other than fucking against your g-spot whilst his heavy balls slap against your clit. In response, all you can do is drool and lie in it, his harsh rhythm forcing the air out of your lungs in high cries with every crash of his hips into you. 

“What more do you like?” He smacks your ass again, faltering for less than a second as he gets an idea, “Eres una chica sucía, ¿te gusta un dedo en el culo (You’re a dirty girl, you like a finger in your ass)?”

You rub your forehead against the sheets when you nod frantically. Behind you, Javier stops talking but only to obscenely spit down the cleft of your ass and use his thumb to smear it over the ring of muscle there. 

You gasp and whimper, pushing back into the touch. 

“Whore,” he pants and adds pressure to your hole. 

“Want it, Daddy,” you beg softly. 

He eases the digit inside of you and your eyes roll back into your skull when he adds a whole new sensation to getting fucked by him. He can’t contain himself at the sight of his finger disappearing into your ass over and over, “I know you do. So fucking take it.”

The pressure inside of you from two places becomes too much. You get one more breath in before pleasure erupts from your sensitive pussy and you come hard with a cry loud enough to make your voice crack. Javier swears loudly behind you when your walls choke his cock and your untouched clit pulses in interest too at feeling something so powerful. 

“Come in me, Javi,” you cry as he fucks you through your overstimulation. Your skin is slick with sweat, glistening as it beads along your spine and settles into the dip in your arched back. 

“Say please, Princesa (princess),” he breathes rapidly, trying to hold back until you have done what he says. 

“Please,” you sob, “Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Good girl,” he praises and gives you only a few thrusts more. He comes inside of you with a grunt, stilling his hips whilst his cock twitches as it shoots and pulses inside of you. It is enough to make it drip out of you already, creating a ring around his dick that lazily starts sliding in and out of your abused hole to milk the very last drops from the tip. 

You fall flat on your front the second he pulls out. Nothing else exists except your fucked-out body, nerves tingling with electricity at how hard you have felt ecstatic pleasure tonight. You want to giggle or sob or giggle and sob but your eyelids feel so heavy. 

“You okay?” Javier asks from behind you. He has crawled forward to hover over you, placing a kiss on your shoulder, “Pussy took a pounding.”

“‘M fine,” you mutter with a little sigh as Javier’s lips leave kisses in their wake as he moves down your used, trembling body. He rubs your aching thighs.

“Should apologize to her,” he mumbles and places a kiss on the small of your back. You whimper in reply, pulling your arms forward to bury your spinning head in them and relish in the softness that he gives you. 

However, that softness has ulterior motives because soon, he is tilting your hips a little. He is still trailing his tongue over your lower back, through the sweat that has pooled there and then further down over your puckered hole. He ends with his mouth between your folds, hands that had been soothing your legs now curling around your thighs to pull them slightly apart so he can eat the dribble of come right from your freshly-fucked pussy. 

“I can’t,” you groan even if it’s soothing to feel his soft tongue inside of you. 

“Yes,” he slurps loudly and scoops more out of you, going down to lap on your clit. Between tortuous sucks that are strong enough to hollow his cheeks, he talks softly, “Just take it, bebita (baby). Let me make you feel better. You took it so well.”

A third high burns deep below your belly button but he builds it slower than when he had had his thumb on your clit by switching between eating from your seam and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

“Javi,” you feel stupid for having said his name so many times tonight without following it up with anything else but he seems to understand what each enunciation of his name means. 

“I know,” he coos and bobs his head a little, “I’m almost done, just a little more.”

When you are clean of any remnants of his spill, he works towards your orgasm whilst you cry feebly. He sucks at your clit with gentle enthusiasm, coaxing your exhausted body to reach its climax once again not long after. Tears spring from your eyes as pleasure is forced to flow through your cunt again, rapid clenching around nothing making your hips stutter as you think you might gush enough to ruin the mattress. 

Javier pulls away as soon as you come down, moving to lie down beside you and give you the space that you need. You cry in your overwhelmed state but it’s only silent tears that slide down over your nose and cheek. 

He tuts and coos, “Nena (Babygirl).”

That nickname makes you cry louder. 

“Do you need help getting onto your back?” He asks carefully. You nod and without hesitation, he helps you move your body around until you are on your back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“I’m sorry,” you feel embarrassed but unable to control your emotions.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod again. 

He reaches to turn your head towards himself, cupping your cheek carefully and using his thumb to brush a tear away. You hold onto his wrist as he kisses you. 

“No more tears,” he tells you with a soft smile and strokes your cheek in such a gentle manner that you cannot help but give him a little smile of your own in return, “You were so good.” 

“Thank you,” you say with a fluttering heart, mascara burning underneath your eyes. 

“Let me get you a glass of water,” he pecks your lips a few times more but when he tries to pull away, you whine like a child not getting their way. He says your time but then lets you crawl to him. He hugs you close, draping your leg over his hip, and coos soft praises until you fall asleep. 

“I have work in the morning,” he mumbles into your hair, but then why does he still let you sleep in his arms all through the night? 

You wake up to aspirin and water. You take it and gulp down the whole glass, only briefly waking up again when he crawls into bed with you late in the evening to hold you close once more.

“I’ll order some food,” he tells you while repeatedly kissing your still bare body.

“Okay,” you say and fall asleep again. 

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi p #javi peña #javi pena #javier peña #javier pena one shot #javier pena x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena fluff #javi pena x you #javi pena x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #my writing #narcos fanfiction #narcos

[pray4byron]

Requests are back open woo! How do you feel about platonic Alastor and male teen reader? Like he was around when Alastor was alive, same time period? And reader would sell newspapers to Al on the street. Reader could be a an orphan during the great depression hinting what Al said in the pilot. Reader is a huge fan of Alastor. When reader dies he willingly works for Alastor. And dont get me wrong! But i would kill to see Alastor and Lucifer just try to one up each other about who’s kid is better. If you don’t wish to do this i understand.

yeah, requests are back open!! huzah!!! but this is actually so cute what the flip, i’m gonna spend all my time thinking about this now KAHSBBSNSBSBAB

i’m imagining this kid to be ages like 11-14 btw so i hope that’s fine!!

Warnings: None(?)

Alastor + M!Teen!Reader

“Hey, young one!” Alastor says, you turn your head to face the much taller deer-like man, “I need you to go run a few errands for me,” Alastor says, you nod your head enthusiastically, as much as Alastor wasn’t the most sane man ever, he was the coolest person in your book — he could do anything!

“I have to stay here, at the hotel, and handle some business, so be a good lad and drop this off to Rosie, off in Cannibal Town,” Alastor explained, softly dropping a medium-sized gift box in your hands, “If anyone gives you any trouble, use that small, cellular object to contact Angel, to my dismay, he said he’d take care of it, if worst comes to worst, contact me, I’ll have it on me, but remember, I only use it when I have to, understood?” Alastor confirmed, looking down at you.

You gave him a nod with a smile as you exited the hotel lobby and left off to your adventure in Cannibal Town.

“Heh, imagine needing a child to run your errands.” Lucifer remarked with a smirk smudged on his face, Alastor snapped his neck in his direction, “A reliable and trustworthy child at that, don’t mistake him for less than he is.” Alastor said, the grin on his face tightening at the ends in annoyance.

“Mediocre, at best.” Lucifer mumbled, did he really mean it? No, the kid was actually pretty neat. But after the fued Alastor and Lucifer had about Charlie, everything became a competition.

“My kid is so much better than yours.” Lucifer said, more confidently then before, puffing his chest out.

“Prove it.” Alastor said, his static getting more noticeable.

“I bet that squirt won’t be back in 20 minutes.” Lucifer proposed, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Yes, he fucking will.” Alastor said, his eyes darting at Lucifer, his smile still on his face.

It had been two hours. Two hours, since you’d left.

Alastor was moments away from beginning to pace, his grin was strained, and Lucifer couldn’t help but grin as the clock continued to tick.

All of a sudden, a small boy, being you, burst through the door.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Angel asked from the bar, his tone unreadable, but it was obvious he wasn’t upset.

“Talking with Rosie.” You answered, eyes innocent.

Alastor felt a bit of him die on the inside, as Lucifer snorted.

“She’s a nice lady.” You started. “She gave me tea. And offered me a leg.”

#reqs open #x reader #hazbin hotel #mio’s writing ! ☆ #fanfiction #x y/n #x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor

[joanquill]

If you’re requests are open(feel free to ignore this if not) HEAR ME OUT, headcanons/imagine/whatever you wanna do really with the moriarty bros liking a childhood friend(separately or they can all like the. Friend that’s up to you) like maybe it was the kid that one duchess adopted(yknow the one that made Earl Moriarty feel like he had to adopt a kid) cause like the duchess was like an actual nice person who wanted to help the poor an all that so maybe she raised the orphan the same way?(im so heckin sorry if none of this makes sense my dude, I’m horrible at this rip)

Being Childhood Friends with the Moriarty Brothers

Albert, William, and Louis James Moriarty

A/N: It's okay my guy! It was clear and it was really fun writing this one :) I may have forgotten the romance part last minute asjkas so it's longer than normal :') Tag/s: Long (1.7k words)

Growing up in the orphanage since you were a baby, you have half given up on the idea of being adopted.

So the fact that a kind woman-- a duchess no less, adopted you was a surprise you never saw coming.

But you were grateful for your new life and the woman you now call your mother for this second chance.

Coming from rock bottom yourself, you and the duchess worked hard with foundations and charities for the poor and unfortunate, even if it meant scandals and rumors circling around you and your new family.

However, your new title didn't mean anything to other noble kids.

You were scrutinized and avoided like a plague by other noble families.

This didn't come as a surprise, but it was still uncomfortable attending balls and having everyone stay five feet away from you, spreading rumors about you being riddled with disease.

The duchess defended you, saying despite not being bound by blood, you were her child through and through and a noble.

Unfortunately, her words only fell on deaf ears.

Not that you mind, knowing firsthand how the rich treat the poor on the streets.

Worried about you feeling lonely, your mother tried to make friends with other fellow mothers and set up a playdate or tea parties, rich or poor.

Even when you tried to play nice with other nobles, as suggested by the duchess, the noble kids didn't give you a chance.

It also didn't help with their mothers calling your mother a hedge creeper, wagtail, or their husband's mistress.

To say you were banned from a couple of tea parties was an understatement.

However, hearing Lord Moriarty also adopted kids, the duchess wasted no time setting up a playdate for you.

Albert James Moriarty

You two have actually met before during a party.

Granted, scaring the kids who threw rocks at you to run into a thorny rose bush was not the best first impression, but it did make quite an impact on him.

He found you in the gardens, admiring the flowers, when a group of kids thought it would be funny to throw rocks at you.

He was about to tell off the kids until one threw a rock especially hard, making you fall on your face.

Snapping, you decided to play along with their accusations of you being diseased.

A limp in your step, hoarse voice, reaching out your arms to them as you chased them through the gardens and made them run through a thorny bush, making you smile in triumph.

Albert saw the whole thing, hiding a smile behind his hand as he watched you dust yourself off.

He was about to introduce himself to you until he saw your forehead bleeding and led you back inside to treat your wound.

It may not have been the best way, but hey! You made a friend!

Ever since that day, you would always look for Albert and follow him around for the rest of the gathering.

You knew his mother hated you, and his brother saw you as an insect. But you just completely ignore them and talk to Albert, making the two furious.

He taught you the etiquette needed to see in nobles and even the dances for different music.

If you two weren't outside avoiding the party, you two were talking and eating in the corner off in your own world.

Because of this, some noble kids started trying to get close to you to reach Albert or just hate your complete existence.

Despite all this, you kept hanging out with Albert unapologetically, seeing he was as lonely as you were in this rich man's world.

NOW while he only saw you as a good friend, Albert knew he wanted to stay by your side as long as he could.

Sneaking out of parties, knowing looks, and inside jokes the two of you only knew were some of his treasured memories.

However, he also knew the judging stares of other nobles, saying you weren't supposed to be here.

He tried to step away, hoping you would be safer if you had some distance, but he would always find you within arm's reach.

You kept smiling and being yourself despite everyone around you waiting for one mistake to drag you down.

You were the only one who was a genuine friend to him, wanting nothing in return but his company.

While you were rough around the edges as a noble, you were a gem as a person, always lending a helping hand to those in need.

You were also the only one who would accompany him during his trips to the orphanages or outreach programs.

He would even catch you volunteering, hosting charities, or helping others with your own pocket money.

So when he saw you jumping into traffic to save a child, tattering your outfit in the process but smiling in relief to see the child was safe, he knew he couldn't let you go.

William James Moriarty

The first time you heard about William was from Albert about how he met a genius orphan who knew how to read advanced books at a young age and even gave advice to adults despite being a child.

And now, here you were on a playdate with him and his younger brother.

You tried getting close to the two, seeing how Albert praised them and wanted to get to know them better.

But you couldn't help but notice an invisible wall around the two brothers. Especially William.

While William was friendly from the start, you noticed something lurking behind his smile.

This didn't stop you from trying to be friends with them, though.

Relying on Albert's stories (and Albert himself), you tried getting close to William through his intellect.

Reading books together, visiting museums and art galleries, going to the public library, even showing him your own textbooks from your school.

His teasing you for your wrong answers was not welcomed, though.

Whenever you would ask him something, no matter how absurd, he always entertained you and gave you an answer.

During your talks, you would always have tea and snacks ready, considering how some of them would last for hours.

Slowly, William started to make the first move and approach you.

Offering to teach you lessons you found difficult, offering a tea party, or suggesting somewhere new for you four to visit.

Despite noticing the distance between you two getting smaller, you could still feel the invisible wall between you.

However, this didn't stop you from befriending the boy and treating him like the kid he was.

When he first met you, he thought you were only interesting, seeing as you were the reason he and Louis got adopted in the first place.

When he would approach you, it was only to feed your curiosity, seeing as you had a lot of questions about different things.

He would always give you an answer, watching your expression change as you listen to him.

Slowly, he started enjoying talking to you, amused at how you would find interest in the most bizarre things, ranging from random trivia to high-level knowledge.

That was until he found out you were asking for advice on how to put on successful charities and programs to help people.

When you revealed to him your plans to make a hospital for the impaired, you were proud of yourself for surprising the boy.

Even more when you told him you'd make sure to give him the recognition he deserved.

Considering how his intellect was only used for simple things such as growing flowers or for schemes like robbing a bank, you were a refreshing change of pace.

Now whenever you would ask him something, he would try to guess what you had planned through your questions, sometimes even teasing you when he got it right (which was all the time).

It became a little game between you two, one which he would look forward to and catch himself smiling at the sight of you.

Louis James Moriarty

Louis was the hardest one to become friends with.

He never left William's side and would keep his eyes on you.

Whenever you tried to talk to Louis, he only gave you short answers.

However, this didn't faze you as you kept trying to find a middle ground.

Not surprisingly, he would liven up whenever you would mention or compliment William.

Much to the boy's dismay, who is usually no farther than three feet away from you both.

Considering he had heart surgery, you tried to be considerate and only hang out at the Moriarty manor to spend time with him.

This was how you found out how he was treated by the staff.

While the butler treated you better for being a guest, you didn't excuse his treatment of Louis.

Now, you always help Louis with his chores and glare at the butler whenever Louis mentions the things he made him do.

One day, you offhanded mentioned how strong Louis must have been, going through everything he had.

Surprised by the sudden compliment, he mutters how untrue it was and what a burden he was to his brother.

This made you shower him with praise, saying he should be more confident in himself.

After that, Louis started warming up to you. Even greeting you as soon as you arrive with a smile on his face.

You may have bragged to Albert about being the first one to befriend Louis out of you two. 

At first, he was wary of you. Despite knowing you were also adopted, he didn't trust you.

But you would always make an effort to get to know Louis, even doing chores with him and defending him whenever you visit.

You never looked at him with pity and treated him just like another kid.

Whenever you and his brothers would play, you would always invite Louis and even pull him along, whether it was just hanging out in the manor or visiting some exotic spot in the city.

You would always listen and pay attention to him, making sure he was heard and seen by others whenever he spoke up.

And whenever he spoke ill of himself, you try to boost his confidence and point out his good points with clear eyes.

So when you called him strong and said how much he meant to you and his brothers, he knew you weren't lying.

Slowly, Louis started warming up to you and even clinging to you, which didn't go unnoticed by you three.

You may have cried tears of joy while William and Albert clapped for you.

Now, he considers you one of his trusted confidants and was always the first to greet you, even preparing your favorite tea and snacks in advance for your visits.

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #albert moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #albert moriarty #albert james moriarty #william moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty #william james moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader #louis moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis moriarty #headcanons

[wriothesleybear]

AhH thank you so much for gifting us wriothesley content🐺🐺!!!! I really wish to see his drip marketing soon 😭🙏I cannot forget your idea of him being the big bad wolf with the little red Riding Hood fem reader ever since I saw u mention it--- it is it possible if you give us some more details on the idea? Did he want to eat her at first? Does he want to start a pack w her?? I have so many questionss

it makes me happy to know you like my headcanons🥹 same about the drip marketing. hoyoverse please give us something ! any crumbs will do😫 oh gosh i havent thought that much about the wriothesley x red riding hood! reader yet hmm but if i had to give some ideas:

headcanons below ~warning: a bit suggestive~

Pre-relationship headcanons:

the reader is this innocent little thing who is so sweet, kind, is good with animals and kids, and runs a bakery/cafe which is what caught Wriothesley's eye in the first place.

he had been at your shop before for some tea and knew you were the owner and you've seen him a few times in your shop, but you two had never really spoken.

in my headcanons, i see him as a gentleman so he's usually polite to anyone unless he knows you're a bad person/criminal

one day, he saved you from a couple of criminals who were bothering you. thats when you two finally spoke to one another. you were thanking him profusely for saving you. it would probably be too cute to him so he blushes a bit from how cute you are and gives you a slight smile saying its no big deal.

a few days pass and you find out where he works so you visit him to give him some homemade muffins as a thank you. this would cause the man to become more smitten with you.

even though I see him as not really being a sweets person, he'll eat your treats since you're the one who gave it to him. i mean, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let your treats go to waste.

after this, he would visit your shop more often just to see you and of course have some tea.

you guys would enjoy having conversations with one another and this would become a daily thing.

You would learn his order by heart, already having it ready when you knew he would show up soon. he would notice this and it would cause him to fall harder for you.

You guys would start off as friends of course but it would develop into something more as you got to know more about one another and spend more time together.

He would be the one to ask you out first and you say yes ofc. (he thought you looked so cute when you said yes and it made him happy !)

ofc it was an amazing first date ! he'd go a little bit all out. its your first date after all and its for you so he has to make a good impression ;)

Some relationship headcanons:

once this man falls for you, he falls hard (wolves mate for life)

always kisses your hand !!! he doesnt do that much pda except for that, a hand around your waist, a kiss on your head. he prefers more behind closed doors *wink wink*

When people see him showing affection towards you tho, they get shocked cuz those who don't know him think he's a bit of a scary dude based on his appearance and seeing him with an adorable, innocent s/o is surprising to them.

tea dates ofc

he's playful so playful bites/licks occur often and teases you

he loves hearing you laugh and smile. makes his heart race !

SOOO PROTECTIVE!

he has to protect his cute little innocent, kind darling, can you blame him🥺

he'd be like low-key possessive.

what i mean by that is by marking you. ofc with bite marks during your love making sessions but i could also see him gifting you a necklace with a crescent or symbol that symbolizes him.

it shows others that you're his and hands off!

or imagine its a little red hood that has his symbol on it and matches his cape ahhhh! that'd be so cute!

adding on to that, he's not really the jealous type because he knows you're his but when he sees you giving someone else more attention than him, he might get a little needy.

he just wants his little red riding hood to give him all of their attention and love

please play with his hair and give him scratchies

wouldn't be overly clingy but will hang around you a lot when he can like. like he has to be touching you in a way aka hugging you, you sitting on his lap, etc. or just having you near him while he works is enough

he's gotta make sure you are reminded daily that he loves you

he would be a little bit of a worry wart when he's not with you, always wondering if you were okay

HE IS DEVOTED TO YOU! he would do anything for you maybe even break the law for you👀 he is whipped

a family man

he would for sure want to have a family with you !

would probably want a big one (going off on the fact that wolf packs are usually around 6-10 members from what i read)

Sigewinne is already your guys' child. Its important for you two to get along and you do.

When he sees you two getting along, it makes him so happy !

his thoughts often lead to thinking about you two having a family of your own one day (sorta makes him feral🫣)

he would be the one to bring up the topic when the time is right.

if you said yes, he'd be happy and probably take you right there omg🤭

if you're not ready, he would be understanding, but if you're willing, you could always 'practice' until the time comes ;)

overall, 10/10 boyfriend

i hope i didn't ramble too much. maybe i'll make a series out of this. i hope this answers your questions anon. have a wonderful day!🥰❤️

#wriothesley #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader

[vvynia]

abby and your family’s thanksgiving

pairing: a. anderson x black southern belle!reader

genre: fluff w/ brief mention of smut (mdni)

word count: its headcanons so its short but idk the specific number sowwwy

warnings: not beta read, brief mentions of homophobia but only bc reader’s family isn’t like that, mention of family drama, pregnancy mention, brief moment where religion is talked about (saying grace/prayer)

synopsis: this is literally just headcanons of what would happen if our beloved abby anderson attended your family’s thanksgiving/reunion if you don’t celebrate. very much black reader-centric, but anyone’s welcome to read it esp if you’re from the south cause this is also heavily southern reader coded.

bringing abby anderson to your black (southern) family’s thanksgiving would be a sight to behold.

and imagine its everyone’s FIRST time meeting her too. assuming everyone is super cool and unhateful, i just know she’d have all the aunties’ attention. they see her height, her build and turn to you talkin about, “now, where’d you find her?”

abby would 100% be in ya grandmama’s backyard huddled around the grill with the uncles and dads. she’s got a lil beer in hand (she probably doesn’t even like beer but she likes fitting in and it isn’t all bad when the bonding is genuine) one of em goes “mhm that turkey bout done smokin” and abby is taking mental notes cause one day, she’s gonna smoke a turkey for you two’s family, in your backyard, and your grandkids are gonna be running around

the kids are OBSESSED with her. they climb her like she’s a jungle gym, ask her to throw them in the air, ask her all types of questions. “ABIGAIL! come play with us!” and she does, but the whole time she’s wondering how they discovered what her full name is cause she sure ain’t tell em lool

sometime after, she gets together in the livingroom with you and your cousins, then that one uncle or aunt comes in, says a few words, then leaves with a plate. the gossip commences lol and she’s so in tune to what ya’ll are talking about. she thought her family could dog somebody out?

all that pales in comparison to yall’s words. these sly (and sometimes even blatant) insults are unhinged, the storyline is juicy. she feels like she’s listening to an audiobook of lore. and whenever she asks a question for clarification, someone is always ready to start from the beginning with “see, what had happened was” and “to make a long story short” (the story was not made short)

then it actually comes time to eat, time for her to have her taste buds born anew

your family has whipped up some southern classics: sweet potato pie, pig feet, neck bones and collard greens, cabbage, pound cake, and every other dish you can think of.

you were in charge of the sweet tea, but this year you made a peach batch cause you know abby likes peaches 🥰

ya’ll say grace cause lets be real, if this is the south, somebody baptist and its probably the family matriarch lol

abby is respectful about it whether she believes in god or not cause your family has treated her with the most open of arms and she can feel the love and hospitality all around (if god is real, she thinks, he would’ve wanted everyone who believes in him to be like my sweet girl’s family)

when ya’ll are done and everyone has plated their food, they’re all silently waiting for the white girl’s reaction. they’re trying to play it off, be casual, not stare LOL but they know what’s coming i must admit

and abby doesn’t disappoint cause as you’re sitting next to her, soon as she puts some of them collard greens in her mouth and a couple candied yams and your grandaddy’s secret cast iron skillet macaroni recipe in her mouth, the satisfaction is written all over her face

everyone starts laughing when one of the kids say, “damn, girl, is it good?” to which they’re scolded lol but ofc abby nods like she’s trying to shake the hair follicles out her head

after everyone has ate and said what they’re thankful for (she says she’s thankful for you ofc but she leaves out how thankful she is for getting to strap you down at least twice a week), you two go sit on the porch alone.

you’re leaned against her in a two-seater rocking chair, bellies impossibly full, enjoying the gentle breeze and setting sun and the scent of food that is still wafting from the house

one of your cousin’s kids runs up from the backyard, comes up to you asking for help with opening a new toy, so you help

abby sees how cool you are, how in your element you are with your family, and this moment truly solidifies how much she wants this with you too. ya’ll have had the kids conversation before, so she knows you want at least one

she can’t help but think how gorgeous you’d look bein her housewife, barefoot and pregnant and divine and ethereal, starting a family, never having to worry for a thing bc she’s gonna take care of you

and she knows, when she needs it, you’ll take care of her too

I LOVE LOVE

#abby anderson x black reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby headcanons #abby anderson #thanksgiving #tlou 2 #tlou #lesbian #wlw

[the-offside-rule]

Trent Alexander Arnold (Liverpool) - Jolly

Day 11 of Christmas

Trent had walked down the stairs with his training back and kitted out in his usual Liverpool attire. He chucked his training bag at the door and walked towards the kitchen to see his girlfriend and her younger half brother Charlie. Charlie's parents both worked early hours and very rarely could bring Charlie to school so Y/n took it among herself to bring the youngest of her family to school instead. And so, every morning at half past six, the doorbell would go off and Y/n's stepdad would drop off Charlie and head to work. It didn't bother either of them much, but their favourite hobby was the Elf on the Shelf and making him do all kinds of mischievous stuff whilst Charlie wasn't there.

Trent walked into the kitchen and looked around confused. No one was there except Charlie eating his toast with a cup of tea in his Liverpool mug. "Well Charlie, how's it going?" Trent asked as he walked past the kid and patted his head. “Uncle Trent, how's it going?” Charlie asked as he stared at his Elf at the table. “Everything's fine. Why?” Trent asked walking over to the teapot. "This stupid Elf." He replied. "He won't stop fucking moving."

"I don't think your sister would appreciate you cursing now, or your mum." Trent said as he poured himself a cup of tea. "I don't care. I don't like this Elf." He mumbled. "What'd he even do?" Trent asked. "Oh my god, he did so much bad stuff!" Y/n's brother began. "He unrolled like five rolls of toilet roll last night, and then he went and broke my favourite lego set! I might have to rebuild it before I go back to mum after school." Charlie sighed. "Where's your sister?" Trent asked. "She's just doing some washing. Then we're going to school." Charlie replied. "Yeah sound."

Y/n had such a long day at work that she simply just fell asleep as soon as she dropped onto her bed and by the time she woke up again, the curtains were closed and she was tucked in. Trent must've come home. She got out of bed and walked downstairs seeing the living room light on. She peeked in and spotted Trent putting plastic pieces of lego onto what looked like a mini Annfield. "Hi?" Trent looked up and smiled. "Well, missus. I've some dinner ready for you whenever you want it." Trent said. "What are you doing up so late?" Y/n asked as she looked around the living room and spotted her boyfriend scanning through instructions. "Just helping Jolly with a lego set." Trent replied. She looked confused. "Jolly? As in Charlie's Elf?" Trent nodded. "Yeah, he broke one today so I helped him rebuild Charlie's one and I'm making him make one for tomorrow."

"You know how my mum feels about gifts before Christmas." Y/n said. "Yeah, but it's fun. And it was kinda my idea to break the lego set last night." Y/n nodded. "I'll write a little letter or something to go it with." Y/n said as she sat down beside him and pulled out a piece of paper. She began writing as Trent sat quietly mumbling to himself. "I don't have this piece." Trent muttered. "It's in the wrong place." Y/n said picking it off the tray and placing it where it was meant to go. Trent simply looked back at his girlfriend and an idea sprung to mind. "Do you wanna just help me with it so we can both go to bed?" Y/n and Trent stayed up for another hour finishing the set before they placed both lego sets on the table with Jolly and his note and headed to bed, only imagining what Charlie was going to say.

The morning after, Y/n had to call into work earlier which meant this was the first time Trent was in charge of morning duty. He eagerly anticipated the doorbell ringing and when he did, he practically opened it immediately. Trent greeted Charlie's dad before letting Charlie in and getting started eith his morning. "How are you today, boss?" Trent asked, taking Charlie's backpack off him. "Pretty good, Trentski. I-" He gasped as he saw the kitchen table. His broken lego set now fixed and a brand new Anfield lego set. "Oh my god! This is unreal!" Charlie squealed as he ran up to it. It was only when he got closer he spotted his Elf with a little note. He opened it and began reading the scribbly writing.

I wanted to say sorry for accidentally breaking your lego yesterday, so I fixed your one and asked Santa to bring you Anfield to say sorry!

Jolly

"This is sick!" Charlie laughed. "Yeah? Didn't even see it. Must have been magic." Trent said as he plated up breakfast. "Is toast, eggs and bacon alright for you, lad?" Trent asked. "Yeah course." Charlie replied. "Are you dropping me off today? Dad said you were." Charlie asked. "I am indeed, boss. Y/n had to go to work early today." Trent explained. "I don't mind. My friends all wonder what car you drive." Trent chuckled. "Range Rover Sport, but they'll see it today anyway." Trent said as he placed the breakfast and a smaller cup of tea in front of Charlie. "Thanks, Uncle Trent." He didn't know what it was, but he felt his heart strings being played. Maybe it was the fact Charlie had called him Uncle. "No bother, lad."

#football imagines #football #football blurbs #trent alexander arnold blurbs #trent alexander arnold oneshots #trent alexander arnold oneshot #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexnder arnold x y/n #trent alexander arnold #christmas imagine #christmas fanfic #christmas fic #trent alexander arnold x you #taa blurb #taa imagine #taa x reader

[luckycharms1701]

Hihihi!

First and foremost, I hope you're doing great❤️

Could I get headcanons for Leo with a fem! reader who likes to bite him? Like, when he least expects it, she love bites his arm or shoulder?

oh hell yes i am doing great looking at this ask! you can absolutely get some headcanons for this anon-chan!

… normally i’d pick one, but i want to explore their differences and similarities so you can have both.

edit: you: asks for headcanons me: but what if? it turned into a story instead? (sorry anon-chan, i uh got carried away)

Bayverse Leo: He would hate it at first. I imagine that he and Raph used to fight a lot as kids (“used to” lol) and as we all know, turtles bite. So when you first start doing this, he’s going to jerk away and think you’re crazy. Why are you trying to fight with him??? When you explain that you were just so overwhelmed with affection that you couldn’t help yourself, he might check your temperature to make sure you’re not sick. Eventually, he’ll get used to it. He seems to tolerate it at best. You have to be careful, if he’s in a certain mood he will snap at you for it. No matter how adorable his pouting is.

The change is, to you at least, sudden. He’s never made any indication that he does more than tolerate you biting him. But there is a day when it seems like everything has gone wrong for Leo. Mikey and Raph literally crashed into him while he was meditating during a prank gone wrong. He spilled his tea on Splinter’s favorite Lionel Ritchie album. Patrol was a hot mess that ended up with Raph injured. By the time Leo makes it to your apartment, all he wants is to lie down and not get up again.

You already have his favorite pizza, so he just needs to eat it and lie down with his head in your lap while you turn on some mindless television to take his mind off things. Your fingers run absentmindedly down his arm as you keep your eyes on the TV. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from biting him, you know it won’t be accepted. You’ll have to find another way to show him how much you love him.

So you startle badly when he lifts his arm and holds it in front of your face. You look down to find him watching you, an intense look you’ve never quite seen before in his eyes. He nods. You hesitate only a moment more before opening your mouth and gently biting down on his wrist. Leo sighs as all the tension leaves him, and your eyes widen as he picks up your hand and brings it to his own mouth. He holds your gaze as he bites down, even more gently than you did to him. Oh. Oh.

After that, he doesn’t do it often. But if you catch him just right, he’ll give you a little love bite back.

~~~

Rise Leo: He would be amused the first time, and a little confused.  Would definitely make a joke bad enough that you start gnawing on him in annoyance. When you explain to him that he is just too cute and you couldn’t stop yourself, he’s going to stare at you for a second as he tries to comprehend that you think he’s cute. Then he’s going to strike a pose and say something about knowing how irresistible he is. He doesn’t mind at all if you keep doing it, but gets super uncomfortable if you do it in public. Every time you bite him, his smile gets a little warmer and more genuine.

It’s a normal day, the day you realize exactly how important you biting him is to Leo. You’ve just arrived at the lair, excited to see him. You drape yourself over his back where he’s reading comics on the floor and snuggle into his cheek, proclaiming dramatically how much you missed him. He leans into you with his customary smirk, not taking his eyes off the page in front of him.

Before you can give him a little bite on the shoulder, practically a customary greeting for the two of you at this point, Mikey calls your name. He wants to show you a piece he recently finished. You get up and follow Mikey out, not noticing the way Leo sits up straight and watches you go with a look of distress. You don’t think anything of the fact that you didn’t give Leo a love bite.

When you return, it’s to find your turtle sulking. When you ask him what’s wrong, he studies you without a word. Then he manhandles you onto the nearest soft flat surface and lays down on top of you. Leo nuzzles your shoulder and stretches his mouth around it, biting down firmly enough for you to feel it but not enough to hurt. You’ll have to apologize later, but for now you just hold him and give him a love bite back.

After that, you can never give him a love bite in public again. But he will bite you back.

~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic @writinandcrying

#tmnt #bayverse leo #bayverse leo x reader #rise leo #rise leo x reader #aw fuck #theory tag #i'm not putting this in both #talking tag #hhhhhhhh as someone who would love bite everyone i know if i could this makes me yearn #d- #don't look at the time #just don't think about it #it's fine #i'm fine

[whalesforhands]

digest your feelings pt.11 (finale) (satosugu x reader)

previous masterlist END

warnings: none, just fluff. and a sign off from a whale at the end

“Why… Do you even like me?” The night breeze gently brushes your face, your eyes staring up at the night sky above you.

A sight you haven’t seen in so long. Despite being out of the prison of your mind, you still shackle yourself to it.

“Like I said,” The botamochi that had initially been pressed against your lips leaves. “Liking you doesn’t need a reason.” Satoru is frowning as he leans down closer to you, arms folding over your torso as he wraps himself around you from behind, your front pressed against the railing of the balcony.

“You sure you don’t want a piece? The kids are gonna finish it off before you can even blink.”

(And you need to eat more.)

A strangely serene night despite everything that had happened today. The kids asleep within their parents’ master bedroom, yourself sneaking off soon after you ensured all of them were meant to be fast asleep, passed out.

(You didn’t account for how the men would be monitoring your every move. That’s how you’re here— Satoru right by your side as Suguru prepares some tea inside.)

Your newly acquired scar doesn’t burn, doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t feel like much. Not compared to what you feel inside.

You ignore his question, resolve growing inside you as you grit your teeth and spit out your vile thoughts.

“I— I have no idea what to do in this life.” You’re unsure, unable to make decisions. You don’t deserve to be standing here with them. You think your revival was a mistake.

He keeps quiet, but his arms are tightening up, his body pressing itself closer to you as you feel his chin rest upon your head. He’s listening.

The railing never looked more interesting compared to the cloudless night sky.

“I don’t have any direction other than being a jujutsu sorcerer. I know I have to save— Others. Because I can. Because I’m one of the ones capable of doing that—“

But you can’t even do that well.

You’re so lost. You don’t know where to go, what to do. Who are you, even? Is that all you are? A jujutsu sorcerer.

Exactly what are you getting at, spouting all this nonsense? What is compelling you to speak so freely, so nonsensically?

“What if you find me… boring? What if after—“ You pause to suck in a breath as your voice dies into a whisper, realization dripping into your tone as you listen to yourself. “What if after a while you get tired of me and want to get rid of me…? I-I’m not—“ Suguru. Not Satoru. You’re neither of them. Neither of these perfect pieces of a whole.

He opens his mouth to reply, but you shut him out, cut him off.

“What if you don’t like who I really am?”

Ahh— Rattling off about your insecurities, those creeping little thoughts about yourself in efforts to make yourself less attractive. Less appealing to him. What were you aiming for? Satoru kicking you out and asking you to leave? Him saying he never really liked you? Him admitting that he’s only doing this out of pity? Maybe you really were better off dead.

You hear a huff of exasperation from above you, feel his body dropping even more of his weight onto you as you blank out silently, letting him simply hold you.

Maybe this will be the last time. Maybe he finally realizes you aren’t what he imagined you to be. You were gone for— How long? Nevertheless, it should be long enough for them to conjure an image of ‘you’.

Meeting expectations were never your strongpoint.

There’s a hum from him, his fingers tapping against the fabric of the shirt Suguru had gotten out of the closet for you to wear. One of theirs.

“You think too much.”

He’s thankful, really. That you’re starting to talk. To start speaking your mind more. But what exactly can he do to make you realise what he has been learning, knowing for years?

There’s a beat. Before he whirls you around to face him, to face those blue eyes that you’ve been denied of seeing. His forehead is pressed against yours in intimate proximity, soft skin against your own as the shadows of your surroundings highlighted the crystalline jewels meeting yours.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do, you know? You’re so dumb sometimes.”

…is he insulting you? You can’t tell, not when the shine of his lips catch your attention, the pull, lull of his intrinsic charm that your heart jumps up at.

He’s cute. And he notices your charmed gaze.

(Too soon. He doesn’t want to scare you away again.)

“By the way!” His arm is holding you close just as he wills himself to pull away from you, separating yourselves before he unforgivingly escalates the situation. Your eyes meet with your own reflection staring back at you from… A cellphone lacking the usual buttons you were used to.

“Gonna show Utahime your pretty face!” His cheek is squished against yours as you blink up at the modern item.

…where’s the honourifics? Where is the ‘senpai’ at the end…?

“She’s soooo gonna freak when she finds out you came back to life after 6 years.”

You nearly choke on the air you just breathed in, in time with the sliding of the balcony door, Shoko dressed down in casual clothing and carrying a large bag with her.

“Hi.” It’s almost excited, the undertone of giddy happiness masked by her cool exterior, a hand on her hip as she watches Gojo snap more and more shots of yourself and him. Together. “Suguru let me in. I wanted to see you— Again.”

Her smile is radiant. Her eyebags a little lighter. “I brought you undergarments. And a few necessities. I don’t trust them.” Her face reveals her excitement, her relaxed posture, hee brimming gait. You just don’t understand how long it has been since she could confidently pick up an item and think of you you you.

(You’d be blushing up a storm if she had seen the sheer amount of clothing presented to you after you had stepped out the bath.)

“Huhhhhh?” Gojo’s leaning against you, pulling you closer to him as his hands spider across your upper back protectively, his smugness radiating off of him in waves. “You haven’t seen the collection Suguru and I bought then! It’s wayyyy better than whatever you have—!”

“Satoru… Be a gentleman.” Suguru appears, a tray of tea held within his hands as he appears, blankets tucked onto his arm as Shoko politely takes a cup of tea.

(Anyone would need it after having to stand within 2 metres of Gojo Satoru.)

“Suguru…” You can hear him intake a sharp breath at the mention of his name from your lips. The tray clanking down onto the nearby glass surface of a miniature table, Gojo gently pushing you forward and near the warmth of Geto, ensuring to not expose your skin to the night before he departs to sip at the sugary abomination created by his beloved. (Specially made just to cater to his tastes.)

“It’s wonderful that you’re— Saying my name.” The flutters in his heart refuse to still. “Though, I’d appreciate it if it weren’t with such dejection.”He stares into your eyes, adjusting the blanket as it flutters around you to keep you warm, the quiet banter between Shoko and Satoru filling your ears as his gaze holds you, slowly, patiently watching you try to find every word that you want.

“I’m just…” Your eyes blank out as your fingers start to dig themselves into your palms, the chill of insecurity, alarm and hopelessness about your own self coming to haunt you.

(The cold night already feels warm in all three of their presence… And yet—)

But you can be honest, right? They’d want you to be.

“In a hurry to be a bit more useful.” You whisper it, unsure and cracked, like you were going to cry, going to break.

“It’s okay,” His hand is upon your cheek, caressing and nurturing. He’s happy to see the colour, feel the sheer life once again. It almost feels like he’s still dreaming as he touches warm skin, tastes the energy that radiates from your body, hears your heart pumping vitality into what was once a mere corpse.

It’s an ephemeral feeling, overridden by the affection and love his soul held, reflected in his his soft eyes and softer tone. “You don’t have to rush back into being part of that—“ His mind flashes to the civilia— No, monkeys that surrounded your corpse, the higher-ups that failed you, failed him. Failed this family of his.

This family that he and Satoru clawed and massacred through to keep.

“World.” The words are said with an edge to them, a bit of malice, hatred and calmed anger.

You don’t need to go back at all, honestly. Just stay here— Forever.

“But I—“ Feel like you’re useless. Feel like you’re imposing. Feel like you’re worthless.

“How about this?” Gojo’s hugging himself around all of you, dragging Shoko along with him as he takes the spotlight, Shoko layering on her own provided blanket onto you as you feel the lanky deathgrip clasping, dragging all three of you into him.

“Stay home for a while and get used to life!”

——

“Satoru.” Suguru’s voice is soft, the way the man’s name melts off of his tongue so sweet it makes even you gush. “I have to make breakfast. Let go.”

Their sofa is surprisingly soft, comfortable and very pleasant to sleep on. Shoko making herself at home by taking up the entirety of the armchair nearby as she stays fast asleep, much alike the snoring Gojo holding onto both yourself and Geto, his arms stretching both under and over your bodies respectively as you stayed stuck in the middle between them.

“Nghh— Mm…” He’s ineligible in his slumber, unrelenting and letting his head bury impossibly deeper into the crook of your neck and feeling your skin with his own, a chuckling Suguru right by your ear as he feels the tightening of the honoured one’s arm around his waist.

He’s the first to notice that you’re awake, smiling at you as he continued to lay on his side. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

You don’t have the heart to tell him that it was a bit suffocating to have both of them clinging onto you for the entirety of the night.

“Good morning… It was comfortable.” You try not to shift— Stutter in your words as you feel lips mumbling incoherent sentences into the sensitive skin of your neck, Suguru’s hand stroking your hair back as you remain still.

“I’m glad to hear it.” The smile in his eyes is absolutely gorgeous to see, the shine of purple in the morning glow, akin to the beautiful glows of an evening dusk that begets the stuttering of your heartbeat.

“Hah! I knew they’d be here!” It’s not long before you feel weights basically pounce onto the trio of you huddled together, Suguru absorbing most of the blow due to basically having his body draped over you, Satoru finally stirring as he feels the pounding at his navel.

“Wake up, wake up!” Nanako’s voice is loud, hee energy rampant as she jumps up and down on Suguru, stirring everyone awake as Mimiko cuddles up to you, crawling underneath your blanket and onto you with her stuffed animal. Megumi isn’t far behind, choosing to sit down at the foot of the couch and stare as Tsumiki is vigorously shaking Satoru awake.

“It’s morning!!!”

(“Good god… 5 minutes more…” Shoko is hiding herself underneath her own blanket as Megumi stares at her.

“Didn’t you tell us that monsters will come get us if we don’t wake up on time?”

She has no heart to tell them that the ‘monsters’ was just Suguru’s calm anger if he ever found out she let the kids be late for school.)

——

You stare proudly at the perfectly cut out, perfectly browned and perfectly spread slices of cute toasts shaped into adorable little bears.

“Wooooahh…!” Tsumiki is the one whose beside you, ever the responsible one to help out for breakfast as she eyes the cute creations.

“You’re so amazing, Mama!” Her eyes shine with excitement as her brown hair draped and swung about around her face. Excited jumping in place as she continued to admire your work.

(You’ve always wanted to try this back when Shoko showed you some in a food magazine back then. And Tsumiki staring at pictures of it whilst concentrating hard on the bread pushed you to help.)

Despite the lack of a toaster, you managed to make the perfect slices with a skillet. The proud surge of pride fills yourself momentarily. Though, the crackling of the burnt slices not far away from the little experimenting make it hard to revel in your accomplishment.

“Now what do we do with the bad ones, Mama?” She’s caught your gaze, staring at them, poking the pieces she had unfortunately burnt in efforts to make the perfect breakfast for her family. “I’m sorry for messing up so much…”

Oh. You’re definitely not going to let her think that. The little faces of the cartoonish, almost burnt to black, bears sear your hand lightly as you pick up a slice.

“Don’t worry— I like my bread with a little… Crisp.” You’re still smiling, holding a slice in your hand as your hand is upon her head, stroking comfortingly.

Carcinogenic or not, it is a small price to pay to see her happy.

“Are you sure?” She’s looking worried, guilty even as she looks up at you.

“I’m sure.” Without a moment’s more of hesitation, you bite down.

You chew the burnt crusts, the crunch of the toast and crumbling of the ash feels bitter, hot on your tongue as you fight back a grimace. It leaves with a lingering burn as you swallow, tottering down your throat in incinerated lumps.

“See? I like it…!” You’re still smiling, patting her on the head. “I think that for your first try, you did very well, darling.”

Edible, but definitely not the most palatable. It’d be a waste to let it all go to the trash though, since it was her hard work. Your eyes narrow, squinting at the aftertaste of the creation as you turn around to reach for the jam to trick your tastebuds to intake the burnt mess of a breakfast.

“I’ll polish it off in no time with a little jam, so don’t worry and—“

Only for your front to be face to face with a sturdy chest that even you were too stunned to react to the sheer sight of.

“Satoru, that isn’t sweet…!” Your hands are dragging him down by the shoulders, voice tuckered into a whisper as you try to snatch it away before his reaction could possibly blow out of proportion. Yet, his broad form, despite easily allowing you to drag him down closer to you to reach for the burnt bread crusts, his hand holds it up high in the air as he continues to chew, completely dodging your attempts.

He doesn’t even respond, a hand going around your waist to keep your front pressed against his as he continues to stuff his face with the failed creations, slowly but surely packing it into his cheeks and having the gall to even contentedly hum as you struggle and fight against him, flashing a grin towards the confused Tsumiki with your hand on one of his shoulders as you press down, trying your best before you give in, stopping entirely.

You lose, of course. He’s the great Gojo Satoru. “Mmm… Could use a little jam, sweethearts.”

Tsumiki’s eyes are lighting up. “Is it really good? I wanna try too!”

The plate is confiscated by your own hands before she could try. “I-I think you should go help Papa get the others ready for school, and make sure they have breakfast on time, okay??” You’re trying to hide your panic, break free of Gojo’s embrace as you try to keep her from her creation.

“Well—“ She thinks momentarily. “Okay then!” She’s skipping off. “Papa, Gumi, Nana, Mimi! Breakfast is ready! Mama and I made the best breakfast ever!”

You let out a sigh of relief, placing down the plate and practically going limp in his hold as your face is planted onto his pecs out of sheer ease from the situation, not even registering the fact that you’re pressed up against his half-naked form.

“You did good, ya know?” He’s smiling down at you. “Don’t think I would’ve done that well.”

You’d make a great mother.

“You’re good at anything you try, Satoru.” Your hands come up to cup his face, gently thumbing off the tiny remnants of the crusts near his lips.

“Now let me go so I can plate the eggs.”

“Nope!” He’s popping the ‘p’, tightening his grip. “Not until I get my fill of you!”

(“Auntie Shoko… Don’t you hate sweet things?” Nanako is staring up at the lady as she chews on one of the cute toasts with strawberry jam spread.

“I do.” Shoko mumbles with a mouthful of toast in her mouth as a light smile encompasses her expression. “But I think they’re growing on me again.”)

——

“Are those new?” He nods, eyes fully concentrated on the strings of his shoelaces, his small fingers holding onto the aglets and doing his best to knot the fabric.

He’s 9, for god’s sake. And about to be extremely embarrassed if he can’t tie them in front of you.

(Nanako and Mimiko still use velcro, but you can’t blame him for how he thought Tsumiki was cool for being the only one with the tie-up ones. Like a grown-up.)

You watch him as he slowly tied the laces, failing and retrying. You want to commend him for not giving up… Yet, want to help.

You sit right next to him, taking a pair of sneakers that seemingly belong to Satoru… Maybe Suguru? No matter. You put them on, slowly doing the laces with careful precision, doing each motion as a slow example.

Megumi watches intently.

“I thought you weren’t going out.”

“No. Stay home and rest. I’ll be back after dropping them off, okay?”

“You can come with us tomorrow.”

Seriously. Nothing can escape this child.

“I’m—“ You sigh. “I’m not. I just wanted to help you out without— You thinking I’m annoying.”

He remains quiet after listening to your words. “…they never taught me how. So I— Don’t know. And I don’t want to bother my sister.” It’s his whispered admittance, gaze avoidant and shy. Still trying so hard to be independent, trying to show that he’s strong.

You’re both left alone as the kids totter about Suguru and Satoru in the kitchen, who are trying to pack their lunches.

“I can teach you.”

“…thanks.”

——

“See you all later then.” You lean down, pressing a kiss against Nanako’s forehead, the girl squealing as she hugs you back as a response.

Mimiko’s next, tucking into herself as she feels the peck on her forehead, a happy flush across her cheeks as she hugs her plush close. “And for her too!” She’s holding it up to your face as you giggle and give one to her friend too.

Tsumiki takes her time, letting you fuss over her a little and tuck her bangs in. “I like having them hang over like this though!” Okay, okay. You relent, letting her have it as you kiss her cheek. “Thank you, Mama!” She’s giggling. She thinks she won’t ever be too old to receive affection like this.

Megumi’s eyes are shifting all around, his steps nervous and almost embarrassed as he’s last in line. “I didn’t expect you to want one.” The blush on his face is furious and almost angry. “Just… Hurry up with it…!” He looks like he wants to burst, to explode where he stood. You relent and press a kiss to his nose, patting your hands onto the soft fluff of his hair when you’re done.

(He runs out the door soon after. So cute.)

You blink.

“Satoru…? What are you doing?” He’s right before you, squatting down and holding his knees, making himself seem small as he comes face to face with you.

He’s humming, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses as those endless black reflect your face onto them. “Waiting for my kiss?” It’s said with a tone of expectancy, almost as if it was common sense.

“…what?” You’re stunned as you stare back at him. A moment passes, and another beat.

He’s being serious. Well— Okay, you suppose. You lean forwards but stop yourself. You do love him… And legally married so… You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips, the surprise that overtakes him is more than welcome when you pull away to see a stark red Satoru that falls over backwards, a hand over his mouth, sunglasses flying off his face to reveal lovesick, puppylike blue.

Suguru appears almost instantaneously.

“My turn?”

You want to die of embarrassment.

——

“And then and then—!” Mimiko’s splaying herself out on your lap as she stares up at you. “Gumi took back my doll from the boy! And punched him straight in the face like Daddy does to the bad guys!”

Tsumiki’s right next to you, staring down a kneeling Megumi and Nanako before you as they bowed their heads in shame.

They both got into a fight at school with a group of boys after they tried to snatch Mimiko’s plush toy away.

(The surprising thing is that they won. You can’t help but feel a little proud about that. At the same time, you can’t believe you have to resolve this whilst Suguru and Satoru are having a parent conference with the whole group’s parents.)

“You both had good intentions— And I’m proud of you for defending your sister… But,” You harden your expression slightly. “You shouldn’t beat up a whole group of kids that badly.”

“…that it?” Megumi’s indignant, looking up at you from his kneeled position on the floor, bruises and bandages applied by you on his skin as Nanako stares up at you with guilty puppy eyes.

(Nanako has close to 0 injuries on her. Megumi made sure to take most of the blows.)

“Yea. But— No fighting anyone if—“ You look over at Tsumiki. “If you get injured like this. Don’t get into fights, stop them. Okay?”

They two guilty parties nod their heads.

“But if that doesn’t work still… You can beat them up.”

previous masterlist END

KOFI epilogue

Notes:

Megumi sometimes wake up in the middle of the night. To aid with this problem of his, he totters along to the master bedroom, clambering over either Gojo or Geto to reach you. He sits on your chest, shaking you awake until you stir.

Then, he proceeds to climb off, grabbing your hand on his way down to the foot of the bed as he leads a groggy you to his bedroom, where you should sleep with him instead.

Sometimes it doesn’t work because either or both of the men are entangling you inbetween their stupidly heavy, muscly and long arms and legs. That, or the twins or maybe even Tsumiki herself have already made themselves apparent, sleeping atop or close to your form beside their father figures. (Megumi admits defeat in these cases and joins the large pile.)

nvy’s aftertalk:

did i scare u when i said sign off? haha, first iPhone came out in 2007 btw

nvy, what’s in the works now that dyf is done?

well ig i’m gg to finish writing the epilogue first, then all the other drafts i have. some are dyf related, some are not. if i take a particular liking to specific aus, they’re turning into my next series haha (dw, most are satosugu focused)

thank you for reading all the way here. i appreciate it. it’s been a long journey for myself and for my writing, and i’m surprised at ppl actually liking my work. thank you, and catch u next time!!

#dyf au #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #geto x reader x gojo

[sinon36]

Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC - Part 2

Part I

Author's block and tummy aches don't make a great team. Apologies that it took some time to post this. Enjoy!

Warnings: none other than mistakes, it's fluff.

-

Being a primary school teacher is far from easy. From the endless hours spent correcting homework or grading tests to preparing visual materials, your work never ends. Maybe you should listen to your colleagues and double down on the work you put into this. But you can’t deny the satisfaction you get from seeing your students get excited in class even when you assign extra work for them over weekends and holidays. But now that you came down with the flu, another downside of working with kids, you couldn’t care less about the little punks.

You lay down in bed covered in the thickest of blankets, shivering and barely able to breath. The house is empty and you’ve never felt so alone. You wish Simon would walk through the door and snuggle you until everything is better again. He was deployed again, and in the past few months you managed to talk to him for a total of 10 minutes. He’d call you to check on you and let you know he was fine, but he’d be quick to tell you he can’t say more about his whereabouts.

Being married to him brought a hell of a lot more stress than you could have imagined. Not knowing where he was or what he did was eating you on the inside. You worried about your husband’s well being but you always reminded yourself not to pester him too much. His job is stressful as it is, no need for you to put anymore pressure on him when he was home. You painted an image of his coworkers through his brief comments on what they did on base. The most you heard about was the Scot, Johnny, the young lad had made an impression on Simon. Even though he’d complain that Johnny was a ‘pain in the arse’, you couldn’t miss the small chuckle he let out whenever he spoke of him. You concluded that this young Scottish man was the closest thing to a friend your husband had.

The clock on the nightstand reads 2AM. The fever and headache are back. Your body hurts everywhere. you stand up readying yourself to leave the warm cocoon of the blanket and go to the kitchen to make some tea and take some more medicine. The otherwise short trip to the other side of the house seems now like an endless maze, it’s dark and you can barely see; you keep one hand on the wall just to be safe if nausea takes the better of you. You take a seat at the dinner table as the kettle starts warming up.

There is a faint click at the front door, so soft that at first you believe you imagined it. But it turns out that it was real, that the sound was a key turning the lock and the knob twisted, and the door opened. You watch everything as in slow motion, your brain too fuzzy with the flu. The massive body dressed in all black walks in illuminated from behind by the street lights, leaving their shoes on the rack. It’s Simon…. He’s home but you don’t have the energy to move. In the still and quiet atmosphere of the house the bloody kettle lets out a blood curling whistle signalling the water is boiling. Simon’s eyes dart towards the kitchen space, not having noticed you until now.

  ‘What’re you doin’ in the dark, love?’ he chuckles coming over to you. He’s becoming suspicious when you don’t make a single move to get up and greet him as you would. He first reaches for the knob to turn off the stove, then he pulls off the balaclava, reaching down to your sited position to kiss your forehead. ‘You a bit warm…’ he hums and you nod sniffling your runny nose. The rest is a blur, you can faintly remember him pouring the tea for you and handing the medicine. Next thing you know strong arms carry you to the bedroom, the same arms you fall asleep until morning.

Simon is trained in the art of staying still no matter what waiting to get a clear shot of the enemy. But since he met you, that skill has been put to a better use. He had no qualms with becoming your body pillow over night. He just loves the feeling of you pressed so closely to him, head rested on his peck near his beating heart. He would gladly stay there for an eternity is you asked him.

Anything for you. Always, no matter how costly or how small, he’d do anything to see you happy. That’s his love language, while he struggles to word it he makes up with his actions. And you’d never trade him for anyone else in the world. The following days are spent with him not leaving your side, pampering and loving you the way you’ve never been loved before.

Once you feel better, he asks you to go on a date just like first time he asked you accepted with a school girl giggle. It’s safe to say you’re in love. The date goes well and you find yourself walking through the park like two hopeless romantics, talking and laughing. He tells you that Soap caught a whiff of him being married to you and now he won’t stop pestering him with questions about you two. ‘Maybe you should invite him to dinner… if you want to.’ You smile at him. ‘Maybe’ he grunts not looking at you. Bringing Johnny to your house, to meet you, it involves risks. But he knows that he can trust the sergeant with his life, so what if his only friend meets his wife. Nothing can go wrong, right?

Bonus:

On base, Ghost approaches Soap in the armoury, making sure no one is in ear shot. He gives the Scot a date, time and the name of a bus station somewhere in suburban Manchester. At Soap’s questioning look Ghost lets out a grunt ‘Wife wants you to come to dinner.’ At that Soap grins and accepts politely which prompts the lieutenant to threaten to kill him if he tells anyone about this.

The day when Johnny arrives at your doorstep comes faster than expected. You open the door and greet him, rather warmly which is a stark contrast to your husband’s harsh demeanour. Opposites do attract, he supposes. At dinner you listen to him talk, about their time on base, stories from missions, nothing too detailed though, and about his own family. He shows you pictures of his sisters and his nieces and nephews. They’re cute. You talk about your pupils, sharing stories of your own. Johnny perks up at the knowledge that you are a primary school teacher. He asks if he can have your number in case he needs help with their homework. You gladly give it to him, asking in return to keep an eye on Simon for you. He accepts your deal.

Johnny leaves after a couple of hours, going back to the hotel, even though you insist he can take the couch. But you know that Simon is glaring at him over your shoulder daring him to accept. Once he left you turn towards your husband hugging him and kissing him. You thank him for letting you meet his colleague, and he reminds you that he’d do anything for his lovely wife.

A couple of weeks go by. You’re in bed with Simon having a heated kissing session when your phone rings. Groaning you pull off from him and grab it. Johnny’s name lights up the screen and you answer. The conversation is short, something about math and how to use the graphic method to solve a problem. Simon listens intently seeing you smile conspiratorially. When you end the call, he grabs you and pushes you underneath him, trapping you between his body and the bed. ‘Why does Johnny have your number?’ the low rumble pulls a laugh from you. You know you have no chance to lie to him, he’ll see right through. You explain to him that he wanted it so he can ask you whenever he doesn’t know how to solve his nephews’ homework. He watches you not really convinced by your answer. ‘You hate talking to parents on the phone. What did you get him do? Spy on me on base and report back to you?’ Busted. You laugh and let out an even more unconvincing ‘no’ for an answer. He knows you too well.

#ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #cod x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon riley imagine #shi #shinnochiwrites

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - CHAPTER TWO: JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

summary: a lot can happen over two days, but the stand-out event just had to be that time you went to that restaurant and discovered that you didn't really enjoy seeing tyson flirt with other people. also: who the fuck is jamie?

warnings: awkwardness, mentions of anxiety, swearing, alcohol consumption, meddling, sexual tension, jealousy (both parties), tyson kind of being a dick

word count: 9.9k

previous part | series masterlist | final part

Mat and Toni, respectively, were on a mission. Oddly enough, neither of them had actually discussed their missions, because neither one was aware of the other’s mission. Mat didn’t know what Toni had been chatting about with you, and Toni didn’t know what Mat had been talking about with Tyson on the boat the day before.

But they each had a plan.

Both involved leaving you and Tyson alone at any possible opportunity. Take now, for instance, Toni was completely set on wringing the truth out of Mat about you and Tyson – but only after she’d insisted that she and Mat have a wander around some shops by themselves. That way she could kill two birds with one stone: talk to Mat and leave you and Tyson alone. (She had every intention of talking to Mat after tea, but as soon as the door shut…)

It was how you found yourself sitting at the window of yet another cute cafe, Tyson’s hat askew on your head after he kept complaining about it itching his forehead (he’d patted you rather condescendingly on your cheek when he placed it on you), the man himself at the till ordering your breakfast. There was a gift shop opposite, and it had taken approximately three people to walk out, all bearing paper bags for the idea to come to you.

“A cappuccino with pancakes, milady.” The tray was placed in front of you, as was a glass bottle with am orchid poking out of the top, and you looked up to come face to face with a grinning Tyson, who, after sitting down opposite you, rubbed his hands excitedly, “Fuck me, I’m starving.”

Your eyes wearily scanned over the heads of people in the near vicinity, a little worried that some kid had overheard, but everyone seemed consumed in their own company – no children in sight. You sat up a little straighter.

Martha’s was pretty romantic, wasn’t it?

You swallowed, trying to clear your mind, and almost as soon as your eyes landed on the food in front of you, you felt your stomach rumble loudly, “Me too.”

Tyson nodded, mouth full of his own stack of pancakes, and you stifled a laugh at his impatience, taking a sip of the coffee. 

It had been less awkward than you’d initially expected – waking up next to Tyson – considering the comments you’d so thoughtlessly said. He’d actually not even been in bed when you’d woken up, and it took you getting dressed and wandering downstairs to find him also dressed, sitting on the porch swing with a glass of juice as he watched the water peacefully.

(You would have gone back inside after finding him, had he not spotted you and patted the place next to him – but you decided the extra time with him couldn’t hurt. And anyway, you’d both mostly just sat in silence, not really having anything to say.)

It wasn’t until you’d finished eating your pancakes, both your cups of coffee half-empty that you started talking, his eyes instantly snapping to yours, “I think I’m going to get something for Mat and Toni as a thank you for letting me crash their vacation, d’you want in on it?”

Tyson nodded, “Sounds good. You got any ideas?”

You shook your head, “There’s a gift shop across the street, I thought we could start there?”

“That’s fine by me.” 

You offered a small smile, wondering if you were imagining the tension as Tyson averted his eyes back out of the window. 

And you also didn’t know if he noticed your lingering stares, or if he purposefully chose to ignore it altogether. In fact, you were sure you’d rather it be the former, but you weren’t exactly being subtle. It was always pretty easy to notice when someone had just looked away from you when you looked straight at them – and each time Tyson caught you, you could almost draw the look on his face as he pressed his lips together to muffle a smirk.

“You done?” Tyson leant forwards across the table, peering into your empty coffee mug.

“Yeah.” You nodded, grabbing your bag from the back of your chair, a little distracted by something as your eyes scanned every person sitting at the table.

There were flowers on each table, as well as a few candles, and above the door were more flowers, and everything seemed to be a shade of pastel. The entire cafe seemed…lovey. Ribbons were wrapped around the cakes, and when you thought about it, even your pancake had a heart drawn out in whipped cream.

You hadn’t noticed you weren’t paying full attention to your surroundings until Tyson’s hand shot out to move a chair out of your way, knuckles protecting your leg from an inevitable bruise.

“Are you okay?” He mumbled, and you met his eyes, nodding a little overwhelmed.

His eyes were flickering across your face, no trace of a smile on his lips as he opened his mouth again. You waited for him to say something, but instead he stayed put and silent. It wasn’t until he raised his brows, more out of concern than amusement, that you remembered he’d asked you a question and you hadn’t answered.

“I’m fine.” You said weakly, flashing a tight smile.

He clearly didn’t buy it, but he nodded and continued the winding journey around the tables to get to the door, you at his heels, where he held the door open for you.

It was almost a relief to see the pavement and breathe in non-baked-treat air. It seemed to calm your raging mind – from where that little thing had come from, you didn’t quite know, but it was weird. 

It wasn’t until Tyson was stepping up next to you, a strange look on his face that you realised quite what it was.

It was panic. 

What for?

You didn’t quite know.

“You sure you’re good?” He asked, “You look a bit shaken up.”

“I’m fine, I just didn’t realise how…cutesy everything was here.”

He tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, looking right to avoid his stare. It felt insignificant and a little embarrassing to be admitting it out loud, but this was Tyson.

You’d passed him neon dino undies last night.

“Martha’s is pretty romantic, you were right.” You mumbled, crossing your arms protectively.

His face didn’t waver one bit, and you were glad, “Thought you said you weren’t allergic to romance?”

Your shoulders shrugged before you could stop it, “I wouldn’t really know.”

Tyson swallowed, a little confused by your words. You still looked distracted, eyes bouncing everywhere, cheeks a little red. If he didn’t know better, he’d have assumed you were about to bolt back to the house, but you stayed cemented to the concrete beneath your shoes, completely unmoving. 

And he was about to inquire as to what you meant by that, because his mind was running around pretty quickly.

You wouldn’t know if you were allergic to romance? He had some serious questions, and if his hunch was right, he was about to get pretty pissed with some specific people that you—

Your eyes had settled. They were still moving, but the motion was less hectic and stressed. He followed your gaze, mouth parting at what you were looking at. It was an elderly couple walking down the other side of the street, hands clasped together, and bright smiles plastered on their faces as they conversed with each other.

Oh.

“You…” He started, trailing off. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure where to start that conversation, or if he should start it.

But he knew what you were trying to say.

You turned to him, brow raised and a sigh leaving your mouth, “The gift shop?” 

He just nodded.

***

You and Tyson were the first ones back at the house, feet sore and legs a little achy, immediately seeking out the comfort of the soft sofa cushions, deep sighs of satisfaction released from your very souls. Neither of you said a word to each other as Tyson took one end of the sofa and you took the other, feet stretched and overlapping in the centre, eyes glued to the TV screen.

There were much better views to be had in the house alone; the porch swing you’d both sat at earlier was wonderful, but once you’d walked through the front door, all of that logic had just vanished the moment the sofa was in your eyeline. It was comfy – much too comfy to even consider the thought of having to haul yourself up and walk back outside.

By the time the front door opened and the sound of Mat and Toni’s voices travelled through the corridor, Tyson was asleep, head resting uncomfortably on his shoulder, and you were blinking sleepily, the bags by the side of the sofa just out of reach.

“Oh, they’re here–”

You widened your eyes, a finger pressed to your lips as you pointed at Tyson’s sleeping form. His arms were folded against his chest, and it took Mat to lean over his head to see his closed eyes for him to believe you. He pulled a shocked face, disappearing into the hall where Toni was lining up their own bags at the bottom of the stairs, and dragged her out into the living room to laugh at Tyson.

“He’s gonna be so sore when he wakes up.” Mat whispered, once again eyeing Tyson’s positioning, “What did you do to him?”

You shrugged, “Nothing, we just walked around all day. We actually got you guys something, but I’d wait until he wakes up first.”

Toni silently cooed, a hand over her heart as she rounded the sofa to get a look at Tyson, “How long has he been asleep?”

“About twenty minutes.”

“Can I get a photo of you two?” Toni asked, already pulling out her phone, and you hesitated, eyes drifting to the way Tyson’s curls seemed to hang over his eyes with the low angle of his head. 

He looked kind of adorable, actually. It wasn’t until Toni was encouraging you to look at the camera that you realised it was the first time you’d actually seen him asleep – he’d woken up earlier than you in the morning, and you’d both slept back-to-back in bed, limbs almost hanging off the edges because you were both too conscious of accidentally touching each other.

In fact, now that you were thinking about it, you weren’t sure he even slept a full eight hours. You’d both gone to bed pretty late, and he’d woken up early – you thought at the time the puffy-eyes were because he’d only just woken up, but now you were looking at him so completely out of it, that it had you wondering if he actually got any sleep at all.

You smiled as best as you could, though after Toni had lowered her phone, it dropped instantly. Mat fidgeted from the doorway, bringing bags of groceries through into the kitchen and shooting you a questioning glance.

“Should we wake him up?” He asked, wandering back into the living room, something else hidden in his eyes. It felt like you were missing something, but you weren’t well-versed enough in the ‘looks’ of Mr Barzal to catch onto what he was trying to ask.

You shook your head, “I don’t know if he slept properly last night. He went to sleep after me and he’d been out of bed a while by the time I went downstairs.”

“When did you wake up?”

“Eight-ish.”

Mat nodded, swallowing, before nodding, “Leave him until we’ve done dinner.”

You agreed, your attention going back to the TV until Mat and Toni had left the room. Then you turned to Tyson, where his feet were by your head, him pressed into the back of the sofa and you on the edge. If you moved or got out, you weren’t sure if he’d wake up at the lack of warmth, or if he’d be disturbed by the sofa dipping. 

So you decided to stay put until Mat and Toni started cooking. Then, and very carefully, you peeled yourself off the cushions, cringing everytime Tyson seemed to twitch or move in his sleep – which was more or less successful, especially when you dared to risk putting a cushion between his head and shoulder, attempting to alleviate the inevitable neck cramp he’d experience when he’d wake up later.

And even though none of you were trying to be quiet, pottering around in the kitchen or conversing (the TV was also still on), Tyson still didn’t wake up. In fact, he seemed to slip further from the arm of the sofa until he was laid horizontally on the cushions, rolling over at one point to face the back. 

It would have been endearing if you weren’t so worried about him.

And even after all the food had been cooked, and even after you’d filled him a plate up, not even the smell could wake him up.

“You gonna wake him up? Yeah, thanks.” It was Mat, escaping quickly out of the back door and joining Toni on the patio, leaving you alone in the kitchen, your sole focus still glued on the curly haired brunette curled up.

For some reason you’d expected Tyson to snore.

You stood at the front of the sofa, arms crossed. Waking people up was always a tricky thing to do, especially because it was always strangers you had to rouse; people were fussy and mardy about being woken up, but some people were impossible.

And you had a feeling Tyson belonged in the latter group, with the way he’d slept through the noise and commotion.

“Tys?” You asked, rather awkwardly trying to avoid touching him.

Nothing.

You sighed, reaching down to his jean-clad knee and shaking it. When that didn’t work, you contemplated tickling his feet, but the risk of getting kicked in the face was a little off-putting, and then you found yourself poking his cheek. Judging by the warmth radiating off him, you gathered he was pretty snug.

You threw a cautious glance over your shoulder, checking to ensure no one was watching through the window into the back garden, before kneeling down in front of the sofa, by Tyson’s head, and – rather nervously – reaching a hand into his hair. If nothing else worked, head or back scratches were always a pretty good shot.

“Tyson?” You murmured, nails gently scratching his scalp (his hair was softer than you’d imagined), and getting caught in his curls.

It took you using your other hand to flick his earlobe for a sign of life: he hummed, rolling onto his back and simultaneously forcing your hands off him. His eyes were still shut, face half-screwed up, and you held back a small laugh at his sleepy state.

“Tys,” you started, voice soft, “dinner’s ready.”

He slowly blinked awake, eyes immediately squinting at the lights above, before yawning and rolling his head towards you and scratching the beginnings of his facial hair on his chin, clearly a little confused.

“What?” He mumbled, a crease between his brows as he pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“Dinner. We’re eating outside.” You stood, pointing to the back door, where you knew he’d be able to see the outside lights from where he was laying.

“Already?” He asked, swinging his legs over the side and lifting his bare wrist up to his face, “What time is it?”

“Six.” 

His eyes widened, and he stood up next to you, stretching and groaning at the relief in his joints. A rough palm cupped the side of his neck and he frowned at the dull ache, “How come no one woke me up?”

“We weren’t sure how much sleep you got.” You said, a little uncertain.

He nodded, though, but didn’t say anything else on the matter, “It takes a day or two for me to be able to sleep in a bed that’s not mine.”

You nodded, your gaze sympathetic as you led him to the back door, where Mat and Toni were sitting at the outside table opposite each other, drinks in hand and pasta bowls full, two empty seats next to them. When Tyson followed behind you, Mat cheered and Toni made a joke, but Tyson only shrugged, taking the seat opposite you, immediately digging into his food.

You snuck glances at him throughout the meal, noticing he had a little more colour than earlier – which wasn’t something you immediately noticed – and that the bags under his eyes looked less severe. Letting him sleep had clearly been the right idea.

“Right.” Mat clapped his hands together, before pointing to the conservatory behind Tyson and Toni, “Pool tournament anyone?”

You froze, mid-sip of your G&T, a pebble of dread settling in your stomach. Automatically, your eyes flickered to Tyson opposite, hoping he’d provide you with some reaction, but he was looking straight at Mat, a competitive gleam in his eye as he grinned, “I’m down. What’re the teams?”

And because you were still looking at Tyson over the top of your glass, admiring his almost childlike excitement, you missed the look Toni shared with Mat.

“Me and Tyson?” Toni spoke up, twirling with her earring as her attention focused on you.

In fact, after you’d swallowed another mouthful of your drink, all three pairs of eyes were on you, and you hastily turned to Mat, finding yourself nodding before you could even dare to protest.

You’d expected Mat to go with Toni considering their relationship and all, but you were probably in pretty secure hands if Mat was your teammate too (besides, you got the impression he’d probably be a little more honest with you than Tyson).

It was how you found yourself in the conservatory thirty-seven minutes later, holding a pool cue and dreading your turn. 

You hadn’t played pool in ages, and your skill wasn’t that great then, so you’d prepared yourself for a game of failure and maybe a little embarrassment, but the alcohol would hopefully give you the confidence to embrace that fact.

Only, it seemed you didn’t have to worry too much about your ability, because everyone else was a little too inebriated to concentrate on hitting the ball accurately, and by the time it got to your turn, the only thing you couldn’t play off as the alcohol was actually holding the cue in your hands. You placed a hand on the table, mindful of the nearby balls, and lifted your palm onto your fingertips, slotting the cue between the crevice of your thumb and pointer finger. 

Now for the aim: you looked down the cue, lining it up with the cue ball, which was also straight on and in line with a solid ball. If you slammed the cue ball into the solid ball, you’d knock it against the side and…more or less near a pocket.

In your peripherals you could hear Mat and Toni muttering to each other, shoulder to shoulder – clearly no love lost even despite the competition – and you inhaled, steadying your hands, before pulling the cue back and smacking the cue ball; only your angle was a little off, and the ball landed…just shy of the pocket.

You stood up, unable to help beaming to yourself. It wasn’t as bad as you’d initially predicted. 

“Boom.” Mat stepped forward, knuckles bumping against yours in celebration.

“You can do the next one.” You mumbled, taking a step towards the shelf on the wall and drinking a mouthful of your drink.

When you turned back around, the first thing you saw was Tyson. He was standing on the opposite side of the table, both hands clasping his cue, and his eyes were trained on you. He caught your stare, pointedly glancing back at the table before mouthing ‘you’re going down, fucker’.

You stifled a grin, and if it were months earlier, you’d have probably teased back something along the lines of ‘on who, you?’, but this was now, and something had admittedly changed the entire dynamic of your friendship – probably for the worse, because as much as you tried to deny it, with all the odd tense moments, there was something beginning to nag at the back of your mind that nothing good could come of it, and you were downright petrified of even the thought of not having Tyson in your life.

So you stuck your middle fingers up at him in playful competitiveness, a dead serious look on your face, ‘in your fucking dreams’.

The smirk and adamant shake of his head in response did nothing to change the fact that you and Mat absolutely thrashed Tyson and Toni. So much so that Tyson pushed you into the pool after teasing him too much, though not before you could grab his shirt and pull him in after you.

You both went to bed with aching cheeks after that.

***

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you looked up at the owner of the shadow that had darkened the printed words in your book significantly – not that you needed to look at him; you would have recognised his voice through a fucking whisper – and faced an extremely familiar silhouette, blocking your strip of sun on the lounger. His chest was heaving a little and his entire upper body seemed to be glistening with sweat, even to the edge of his curls as they caught the sunlight, and he stood before you with his hands on his hips, looking undeniably and frustratingly attractive, “where were you this morning?”

You blinked, finding some semblance of safety and solace behind the dark lenses of your sunglasses, eyes secretly roaming…everywhere. You weren’t aware of the phenomenon of someone getting unbearably more attractive by the day, but you were absolutely certain the person standing in front of you was experiencing it in real-time.

Like the day before, you’d woken up by yourself in bed. The sting of disappointment was still there, but you’d managed to get yourself used to it; your expectations were lower and a part of you seemed to acknowledge the fact that his hockey schedule had his internal clock waking up about two hours earlier than you. According to Toni, the same went for Mat, too.

His broad shoulder shrugged, “I went to the gym with Mat and then we both went on a run for a bit. Why, d’you miss me?”

“I just haven’t seen you before ten in the morning, yet.” You excused, moving your hand to shield yourself from the onslaught of the sun – to say it was late morning and the back garden at the house Mat had rented was facing away from the sun, it wasn’t half blazing.

Tyson raised his brows, his cheeks still a little red from the exercise, “You mean you want to see me before ten?”

In truth, somehow you felt as though things between you and Tyson had eased a little – despite the fact this was the first time you were even interacting with the man since last night; something had just been sorted. It felt as though a squeaky joint had been oiled, though you felt partially that it was the buffer of one day separating you from the awkward comment you’d made about dressing him.

Nevertheless, you welcomed the previous ease with a smile and a fluttering heart. After all, he was standing in front of you perfectly tanned and sweaty and with a glorious smile on his face as he looked straight at you. There wasn’t really anything you could complain about.

“I mean,” you started, “I’d like to at least wake up with you in bed.”

He swallowed, “Oh, really?”

“It’d make me feel less like a lazy-ass.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No.” For some reason, you were gripped by a sense of boldness that had never really shown itself, “I bet you look cute in your PJ’s.”

Even in the ensuing silence you didn’t take your eyes off of him. It felt like a pointless exercise at this point.

Except, what he answered next seemed to just blow your mind into smithereens.

“I only wear boxers.”

The shorts he’d gone jogging in weren’t all that long compared to the usual sports attire you’d seen him in and the tease of imagining him in only boxers – like the night you’d made that god-awful comment – sent your mind spiralling and your cheeks heating in misplaced anticipation. You knew he looked good in boxers; anything that highlighted the bulk of his thighs and the muscles in his chest and abs seemed to do the job, and knowing that each night so far he’d been sleeping in so little couldn’t help but render you into speechlessness.

Still, you feigned indifference, “I stand by what I just said.”

“I wear a PJ-based outfit nearly everyday,” he excused, swiping a hand across his face, “I’m gonna go shower and then I’ll come back out. Where’s Mat and Toni?”

“Toni’s wandering around and Mat’s in the shower I think.”

“In that case, I’ll be back down soon.”

“‘Kay.”

And Tyson remained true to his promise, returning not even ten minutes later wearing a pair of swimming trunks and a smile as he plopped down on the empty bed next to you, a bottle of sunscreen in his hand. Your eyes remained loyally on the book in your hands, even as he began lathering himself in sunscreen, his skin almost shimmering in the glint of the sunlight.

At least, you didn’t look until his struggle became a little obvious.

“Do you think you could get my back? Please?” He asked, twisting from where he was sitting, the bottle still in his hand but within reachable distance.

In all honesty, you never even had the thought to say no. Why would you?

“Sure.” You tucked your bookmark into the crease of your book, placing it on the bed before swinging your legs over the side of the lounger, choosing to spray the suncream onto the palms of your hands first instead of straight onto his back.

It was no secret that Tyson, along with the general hockey population, had broad shoulders. It was hard to miss; sometimes the seams on his t-shirts stretched a little too much for comfort, or sometimes the seams just simply weren’t aligned with the angles and joints of his shoulders. It wasn’t something you hadn’t noticed before, but it was a whole other thing to experience when your hands were touching him.

He was warm, and his skin was deliciously soft. 

It was actually the first time you’d ever touched him skin-to-skin, and he seemed to remember that fact entirely when he shivered, bending his head to his feet to hide the planes of his face from your suspicious eyes. Only, once you’d touched him, it seemed to leave an uncomfortable tingling in your palms.

“Hang on, I think I missed a spot.” You mumbled, squirting some more lotion into your hands.

The relief seemed to kick in when your hands were back on his skin once more, and the confusion of that realisation seemed to send your heart hammering so forcefully against your ribs that it was almost painful.

Tyson’s back was so covered in suncream by the end of it, you’d be shocked if he even got any tanning done in the first place. 

He cleared his throat when you clicked the lid back on the bottle, but when he turned back around, there was a little extra something in his eyes when he looked at you. His eyes usually were softer with you, but there was something else hidden in the depths of the dark pools; something you couldn’t quite translate, because you’d never exactly seen that specific kind of look directed at you.

Ever.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the immediate and instantaneous flush of your cheeks as you ducked your head, tucking some hair behind your ear just to give your hands something else to do to distract yourself from the dissatisfaction at not touching him still.

You thought the idea of losing Tyson was the most terrifying thing you’d ever imagined, but it was nothing compared to the devastation you could experience if it meant you’d never be able to do…that. 

And that seemed to send you spiralling a little.

Until, of course, he intervened.

“Do you want me to do your back?” He posed, an empty hand held out.

You nodded, swinging your legs over the other side of the lounger. If anything it gave you time to stall and reorganise your own face so that when you inevitably looked at him again, you’d at least appear somewhat normal.

This is what Tyson had meant when he’d told Mat your relationship was complicated.

His hands were like an antidote to the thoughts swirling in your mind, and for a brief moment, everything went silent. He took his time, hands even smoothing under the strap of your bikini, yet not straying into disrespectful territory. You wondered if he was having the same internal monologue as you, but even though you tried to ignore it, there was a small part of you wondering if this was something he had come to terms with a while ago – especially if he’d told that to Mat so long ago.

Nothing seemed to quieten your mind when, not even five minutes later, you turned back to your book. Your eyes were skimming pointlessly over the words, but nothing was quite registering, the main voice heard being the one in your mind, practically screaming mindless and senseless theories at you whilst Tyson laid peacefully next to you.

***

The rest of the day seemed to go by like someone had held in a fast-forward button: nothing but a blur of light and colours or a cacophony of sound. You knew nothing extensively productive had been done; mostly just relaxing by the beach and pool respectively, trying to recuperate the energy everyone had burnt and spent yesterday.

And naturally, after a full day of lounging around, you’d all pretty much agreed dinner out was the best way to go: you’d yet to go to a local restaurant, and no one could really be bothered actually cooking after the barbeque yesterday (there was also the washing up, and absolutely no one was willing to stick their hands in a scalding tub of water in this hot weather).

It took about ten minutes to decide on which restaurant to choose that’d cater to everyone’s tastes, and you were pretty glad at how it had turned out. The place wasn’t too busy, and by the time you’d all sat down at the table and already managed to work your way through two rounds of drinks, the role of ordering the next round had miraculously fallen to you.

It was how you found yourself leaning against a sticky bartop, forearms aching slightly at the pressure of leaning against the wood. The drinks you’d had so far hadn’t kicked in yet or provided you with some relief to get away from Tyson’s burning gaze and dim the sharp awareness you seemed to have developed in the last twenty-four hours, but even so, you didn’t notice the figure next to you until he’d shuffled close enough for you to smell his cologne and feel the material of his shirt against your bare upper arm.

“Woah.” You muttered, taking a sidestep to avoid getting shoved into.

Luckily, the guy didn’t follow your movements, but when you turned to see what had happened, he was wearing a friendly smile and holding his hand out for you to shake – not only was it a little creepy, probably trouble, but it was entirely inconvenient considering the fact that you could still feel Tyson’s searing stare on you from the other side of the room.

Your skin prickled with it, and you felt kind of glad you’d been told to get the next round because at least it was an excuse to get some fresh air without feeling so on edge all the time (and it wasn’t even like Tyson had done anything – that was all you, which made it all the more difficult to deal with).

“Sorry, I tried getting your attention but I don’t think you heard me.” The man explained politely, his hand still suspended between you both, “I’m Jamie.”

You tilted your head, taking him in. There was something about him that was vaguely familiar, like you’d either met him before or he just had one of those annoying faces that reminded you of someone you couldn’t put your finger on; he had thick blonde hair that curled under his ears and seemed to fall in layers on the top of his head, and very clear sea-green eyes. There was a rugged handsomeness about him, and whilst you pasted a polite smile on your face, you shook his hand.

And almost as soon as you made the move to do so, his face seemed to crumple as his brows furrowed and his lips parted – all attempts at possibly flirting flying right out of his head.

“Do I know you?”

“Have we met before?”

You spoke at the same time, both now wearing equal expressions of confusion, and unable to help laughing a little awkwardly, minds racing.

You introduced yourself, wondering if your name might ring a bell, but he shook his head, the creases on his forehead deepening. 

“Nothing.” He said, “I do know you, though.”

It was a blunt thing to say to a stranger, and if it weren’t for the way your brain seemed to also be spinning you’d have probably run the opposite way, but you felt glued to the spot. It was like your brain wouldn’t let you move until you figured out just what significance Jamie had in your life.

“Where did you grow up?” He asked, tapping his fingers against the bartop, his eyes momentarily leaving you to flicker to the front of the line.

No one had budged: there was only one bartender, and apparently everyone ahead of you in the queue had also been designated to buy the next round and was ordering drinks for their groups, because each person was taking a while to be served. 

“Minnesota.” You answered, “You?”

This was fucking weird.

“Fort Mac. College?”

“Penn State.”

“UBC.” He sighed, scratching the scruff on his chin and letting out a sound that was somewhere between a frustrated huff and a psychotic cackle.

It made you smile a little.

“Where do you live now, if you don’t mind me asking?” You asked, raising a brow.

He could be a friend’s ex? Or an old work colleague? A family friend? A neighbour?

Jamie swung his gaze back to you, and there was a flicker of something that seemed to click in your mind. A fragment of a memory – it was a split second of a frame of something, but the face in it was younger: his cheeks were a little fuller and he didn’t have any facial hair.

But before you could grasp onto it, the flicker of recognition seemed to dissipate completely, leaving you just as clueless as before.

“Fuck.” You groaned, “I thought I had it, then.”

Jamie laughed, it was a deep, gravelly sound that seemed to resonate in your bones, and from where you’d put your hand against your head in frustration, you turned to him.

He was actually quite pretty for a man. It was a realisation, sure, but with that also came the knowledge that when you thought that thought, you felt…nothing. There was nothing. 

Oh no.

You swallowed, risking a glance back at your table to see Tyson chatting to Toni about something, and almost instantly the symptoms seemed to kick in: your hands got clammy and your pulse picked up. Your eyes caught Mat over all the customers, and he flashed a concerned thumbs up, clearly hinting at Jamie, and you offered a smile, repeating his action, before turning back to the man at hand.

You must really like Tyson.

Like a lot.

You cleared your throat, trying to distract yourself from the way your thoughts seemed to take a spiral down and remove you from your present being, but before you could even conjure up something to say, Jamie had gasped – as far as a man of his stature could do such a thing.

“I know.” He stuttered, pointing a finger at you with a wild look in his eyes, “I live in Vancouver right now, but you live in Buffalo, right?” He asked, talking quickly as though he was afraid he’d lose his train of thought mid sentence.

All you could do was nod.

“We met before at a hockey game in Vancouver, it was against Buffalo, and you were in the drinks line with a friend and you guys overheard me tell my buddy about something–”

Tyson felt off – only he knew the sole reason for the off-feeling and also knew what the off-feeling was: it didn’t take much guessing or analysing on his behalf. All he had to do was sneak a glance at you out of the corner of his eye (Toni was still talking to him, but every so often he felt like his eyes were just pulled in your general vicinity), and the reason for the prickle of his jealousy was staring right back at him.

There was a guy talking to you. Tyson wouldn’t have minded at all if it didn’t look like you two knew each other, or the fact that as the line grew shorter your conversation seemed to get more animated. You’d been laughing, the guy had been laughing, and Tyson wasn’t unaware of the fact that he was attractive.

No, that was a fact he was painfully aware of.

And he knew the whole jealous thing wasn’t necessarily a possessive spirit, because instead of feeling the need to walk over and interrupt, all he felt was a vague swell of panic that had been slowly building under his sternum and had spread out across his ribs. He felt his heart rate pick up and his mind disconnect itself from Toni’s conversation (she wa a little tipsier than everyone else, and Mat was involved in the conversation too, so he assumed Toni wouldn’t be able to pick up on his lack of presence), and he had to swallow the rising lump in his throat.

He’d never been affected by you like that before, and a part of him knew it was because whenever you two would see each other outside of hockey fixtures, it’d just be the two of you, which meant he was blissfully unaware of other people’s intentions with you. In fact, when he thought about it, he didn’t think he could ever remember feeling threatened by someone else that could hurt his chances with you – although at the time he hadn’t had any kind of hope that you’d reciprocated his buried feelings, so things were a little different.

Even so, he still wasn’t sure about how you felt, and he was far too much of a chicken to outright ask you.

Something drove against his shin under the table, pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned straight to Mat, who was shooting him a pointed glare and subtly nodding his head in Toni’s direction and Tyson had the horrid feeling as though he’d just been caught ignoring her.

He cleared his throat, turning to Toni with an apologetic smile, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

Toni took a sip of her drink, trying to hide the knowing smile on her face. Tyson might have unintentionally not heard what she’d said, but one glance at his eyeline gave her all the answers she could ever need, and for that, she rather found Tyson getting distracted amusing (even if she repeatedly said his name to get his attention – Tyson could do little wrong in her eyes, ever).

“I was asking if you had any ideas on what we could do tomorrow?” Toni repeated gently.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Tyson was thinking, but his mind was blank. All he could picture was the word and Toni’s face as she waited patiently for an answer.

He cleared his throat, “I don’t know, what’re you guys thinking?”

“We were thinking we all do our own thing and then have a movie night?” Mat proposed, shrugging as he kept one arm over the back of your empty chair. And like there was some magnetic pull towards you, Tyson flickered his attention over to you.

He wished he hadn’t. 

The guy was scribbling something down on a piece of paper, and you took it from him with a smile.

Tyson ducked his head, staring into the bottom of his empty beer glass, a little despondent, “Yeah, that sounds fine by me.” He mumbled, completely missing the shared look between Mat and Toni.

“You okay, Tys?” Mat asked, and though he was somewhat amused by his friend’s lovesick symptoms, he was equally as concerned for his quietness. Tyson wasn’t usually so silent; most of the time he was always engaged in some kind of enthusiastic conversation – and it was pretty rare that he wasn’t smiling.

He just nodded, changing the subject, “Why don’t you guys use those spa vouchers we got you for tomorrow?”

“Oh,” Toni hummed, looking at Mat, “That sounds like a nice idea.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Mat agreed.

“Sorry it took so long, the queue was pretty slow.” You retook your seat, the previous conversation coming to an abrupt end – causing you to raise a curious brow.

Your eyes swept right over Mat and Toni, both of whom eagerly took their drinks off the tray muttering their thank you’s, and came to rest on Tyson. He took his drink all the same, but there was a weight and heaviness on his face – it looked like concentration with the way his mouth had twisted to one side, but he hadn’t even acknowledged your presence.

“Is everything okay?” You directed the question to the group, but your eyes slipped unintentionally to Tyson, who shrugged.

“Yeah, we were just talking about tomorrow. Mat and I are gonna use those spa vouchers you got us.” Toni explained, and you nodded.

“Sounds like a plan.” 

And with that, the conversation started flowing again – but your attention was still somewhat tied to Tyson, who still hadn’t said anything.

You tried to get his attention by sneaking unsubtle glances at him in the hopes he’d look back, but it worked to no avail. 

“I need the bathroom.” He excused himself quickly, not making eye contact with anyone at the table before he’d turned on his heel to make his way to the bathroom. There was a patterned divider screen paving the short corridor before his figure completely disappeared from view as the door shut behind him.

When you turned back to Toni and Mat, the question of whether he was alright or not died on your tongue at the way they were both looking at you.

“What?” You questioned, your hand immediately going to rest against the cool glass of your drink. 

They were both looking at you with identical expressions of something on their faces, but you couldn’t quite place the meaning of it.

It was Mat who took the liberty of answering your question, “He saw you talking to that guy at the bar.”

Oh.

“So?”

Toni laughed softly, “So he got jealous.”

You felt yourself pull a face at her words, almost scoffing in disbelief, but no words came to mind. 

“You two did look pretty cosy.” Toni continued, arching a brow in your direction as she elegantly took a sip of wine, peering at you over the top of her glass.

“We weren’t flirting.” You excused, shaking your head as your eyes went back to the divider near the bathroom.

“Josty didn’t know that.” Mat said, “But he did see you guys laughing–”

“And he saw the piece of paper he gave you.”

“There was a piece of paper?” Mat’s eyes widened, before he winced, “Ouch.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “His name is Jamie and we met a few months ago at a Buffalo-Vancouver game and he gave me his number, yeah, but it was because he mentioned his company had a position in his Buffalo office–”

“He offered you a job?” Mat tilted his head in your direction, shock clearly written across his features.

You shook your head, “He told me about a job; it pays better than my current one and it doesn’t involve a fifty-minute commute. I think I’d be pretty crazy not to consider it.”

They were both silent.

“So he really wasn’t flirting?” Mat double-checked, and you sighed, a little frustrated.

“He tried to, but I told him I wasn’t interested.”

“Why?” Toni shot back, interest in her eyes.

You huffed, and maybe if you weren’t already a little tipsy, you’d have said something about not knowing why, but the alcohol currently in your system as well as the sips you’d taken from your new round made you a little less self-conscious of being honest…at least to a certain extent, “Because he’s not my type.” You shrugged.

“And your type is what, exactly?”

And then you went silent. The hand clasped around your glass seemed to react before you could register what you were doing, but you raised the glass and took a mouthful.

Mat, however, seemed to have the opposite reaction. He slumped comfortably in his chair, a lazy smirk on his lips, “Your type is Tyson.” 

And if you were being honest, the thing that stung you most wasn’t necessarily the truth: that perhaps the pinnacle of ‘your type’ was Tyson after all, but the fact that other people had caught on. You weren’t entirely aware your recent not-so-subtle crush on Tyson had been obvious – mostly considering it was a realisation that you’d come to within the last few days.

“Come on, you guys have liked each other for months–”

What. The. Fuck.

“What the fuck.” You breathed, unable to help the comment slip out of your mouth in shock, “No.”

Mat frowned, his brows knitting together as he shook his head in your direction, an adamant expression on his face as he seeked out Toni for reassurance, “Yes.”

You inhaled sharply, hand now pressed against the table, “No, I didn’t figure that out until literally two days ago. I’m only now realising that I’ve been crushing on him this entire time. Some fucking denial…”

Once more, a shroud of silence seemed to envelope the entire table. Mat remained frozen, crazy eyes fixated on you (not that you blamed him, you weren’t entirely sure you weren’t making this entire conversation up in your own head at this point), and Toni’s mouth had dropped in shock.

Then, something seemed to crawl across your skin. It was a prickle of foreboding, something that could have been easily mistaken for anxiety had you not had the displeasure of experiencing said emotion firsthad, but this kind was unfamiliar.

Again, like your body was trying to tell you something, your eyes circled back to the divide near the bathroom.

Something sour immediately seemed to collect in your stomach, and you swallowed harshly, tearing your eyes away from the scene with a curl of displeasure fogging your brain, “Looks like you were wrong on his behalf, though.”

In his defence, Tyson was ambushed. He was wholly and honestly ambushed right from the second he stepped out of the bathroom door. He hadn’t seen it coming; though who could? She’d been blocking his path back to the table completely and he couldn’t even say he’d ever seen her before, and the second she introduced herself with that sultry smile he knew what was about to happen. It was something that had happened numerous times before, and not something he could say was exactly convenient in that exact moment – especially if you were to look straight over, because from your seat he knew you had a pretty solid view of the doors, kind of like how he’d had a pretty solid view of the bar not even ten minutes ago.

Perhaps it was karma. Maybe it was a coincidence. Or maybe it was an opportunity to get back at you, to see just how you’d act when he sat back down at the table. If you were completely normal, he’d know for certain you weren’t even the slightest bit interested, but if you weren’t? Well, he’d definitely take note and then have to ask Mat how to proceed because he wasn’t that good at stuff like that.

Though, he tended to be good at it when you were involved, but that was riding on a major ‘if’.

It was why he (rather cruelly) entertained himself in the conversation with the lady clearly waiting for him. She was bold, he’d give her that, but she wasn’t you – could never be you.

“Are you liking Martha’s so far?” She asked, tilting her head seductively in his direction, and Tyson physically restrained himself from sneaking a glance in your direction.

“Yeah, it’s pretty incredible. Good views, and all. What about you, you having fun?” He couldn’t ever say he was good at talking to people he didn’t know, because if he did he was sure he’d be branded some kind of world-class liar, but he attempted it, at least for appearance’s sake.

“I mean,” She laughed, placing an unwanted hand on his bicep that he’d luckily kept covered with a blazer, “I could be having more fun, if you get my drift.” She raised an eyebrow, and to be polite, Tyson shuffled out of her grip subtly, and although she dropped her hand, the smirk on her face remained pretty steady.

He laughed a little awkwardly, something between a grimace and a smile on his face, “I do, but I’m taken.” He lied easily, this time momentarily making direct eye contact with you for a brief second. He couldn’t decide if his heart simply stuttered or actually stopped beating, but he swore when you looked away he’d never felt so aware of what he was doing.

He was being a dick just to get a reaction out of you.

“Oh.” The girl’s expression dropped and she took a respectful step back, “I apologise.”

“No need, I...” Tyson shrugged, trailing off pathetically.

Then she turned around, clearly able to focus on exactly who had stolen his attention for that brief moment, and when she looked back at Tyson there was a gleam of understanding on her face, “She’s beautiful.”

“I know.” There wasn’t even a debate about it, the words had just flown so freely out of his mouth that he couldn’t ever really imagine saying anything with such confidence in his entire life.

The girl flashed a soft smile, the kind that had Tyson wondering if she ever really had the true intention of really flirting with him, and simply wandered into the ladies bathroom next to him.

He remained rooted to the spot, his mind reeling. Really, he was flattered, but other women flirting with him had never felt so uncomfortable. He felt the awkward desire to apologise to you for some reason; it wasn’t as though there was anything tying him to you on any kind of level. There’d only been a  few moments but not enough for him to hate it when it wasn’t you flirting with him. Surely?

He cleared his throat, hand over his chest as he looked up. Straight in your direction. The food had arrived, the plate in his empty place steaming, but it was the look on your face that had him moving. You’d bitten the inside of your cheek and there was a thoughtful, vacant look in your eyes – something was up.

Only, when he’d returned to his seat, you ignored his questioning glance and instead offered a tight, clearly irritated smile.

And something dropped in his stomach: it felt an awful lot like guilt.

***

Somewhere along the lines it was decided a walk back to the house would be a good way to end the night. Mat and Toni were walking ahead of you and Tyson, hands intertwined and hushed conversation flowing easily. It couldn't have been more opposite than yours and Tyson’s current situation.

There was at least an arm’s length between you both, and neither of you had spoken a single word since the restaurant. 

It was awkward.

He had still given you his jacket, though – but even that went without words other than your concerned glance to his bare arms (he shrugged), and a muttered thank you.

You wanted to ask if he was okay, there was just something nagging you in the back of your mind, but you pushed it down. It wasn’t even fair of you to be a little pissed at him, but you were. In fact, you were more pissed at yourself. Perhaps if it hadn’t looked as though you were flirting with Jamie, Tyson wouldn’t have flirted with the gorgeous girl outside the bathroom.

Then again, you had learnt a lesson from tonight, so you’d chosen to take that presumption with a pinch of salt, because if you didn’t, you’d be a whole hypocrite.

You just needed a breather, and the only way you could process everything in your head and everything your body was telling you about the man next to you, was to process it in silence. In your own head and on your own terms. 

Hopefully the processing wouldn’t last too long, though.

“Excuse me.” You stopped, twirling around at the sound of a soft, delicate voice. Your arms immediately uncrossed from against your chest, coming to rest at your sides as you flashed a polite smile at the elderly couple that had stopped you.

Your eyes automatically flickered down to their chained arms, and that slow sense of panic from yesterday began to tease at your insides again.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

The sound of footsteps getting closer registered somewhere in the back of your mind, and your skin seemed to erupt in goosebumps when a subconscious part of your mind registered it was Tyson that had pressed himself closer to you. Again, he wasn’t touching you, but you could still feel his presence and warmth.

You’d never really been this in-tune with him before.

The man smiled back up at you, and you ignored the way his wife’s curious eyes slipped to Tyson behind you, “It is, but we’re just a little bit lost, and we were wondering if you could point us in the right direction?”

You nodded instantly, automatically turning to Tyson, who’d already read your mind and was pulling up maps on his phone, “Where do you need to be?”

The man – Eric – answered, and you nodded in understanding, curling your head to look down at Tyson’s phone. You felt your heart start to race at the closeness: he was still standing a little behind you, but he’d placed his phone in a position you could also see his screen, so all you had to do was turn your head a little to the right, his curls ticking the top of your head. 

Neither one of you made a move to inch away.

“I’m really sorry if I’m overstepping here, but you two make a lovely couple.” The lady – Freda – said a little sheepishly.

The breath in your chest seemed to still, and you felt your mouth form a shape, but no sound came out. Luckily, Tyson seemed to take the lead, his media training and prep for keeping a straight face and calm demeanour (all of which you were failing ridiculously in) being used to–

“Thank you.” 

You inhaled sharply, head snapping back to him in surprise. Of all things you’d expected him to say, a simple thank you was most definitely not on the cards – at all. In fact, you’d fully prepared for him to shoot it down with a smile, but here he was, accepting it with a smile.

And you misjudged exactly where he was, because in all the heart-stopping seconds you’d just experienced, it hadn’t even occurred to you that he’d also turned to face the couple. So when you turned back to him, chest aching with something that had recently come into fruition, you turned into him.

The proximity of your faces was so close that even with a small breath you could feel it fan across your cheeks. His nudged your cheek, and almost as though it was rehearsed, both of your gazes instantly went to the other’s mouth.

Before flicking back up to the eyes, and when you did, something seemed to crack. Or click. You couldn’t quite determine which, but there was a heavy vulnerability written there clear as day: he was just as taken aback by the sudden closeness as you were, though he seemed to have mastered the ability to hide the rest of his emotions pretty well.

As for you, you were sure he could see just about everything on your face.

Before the moment could be ruined, you took one daring look back at his lips, suddenly struck with the strength of the magnetism between you both. You felt compelled to kiss him then. The thought had the corner of your mouth twitching up fractionally and your breath hitching in your chest, because that idea wasn’t at all as petrifying as you thought it would be.

You wanted to kiss Tyson in a way that if you did, it’d just screw you both up.

He must have been on a similar wavelength, however, because his cheeks seemed to colour and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, almost testing you, a hungry glint in his eyes.

And then it was over as quickly as it had happened.

The couple got their directions and you and Tyson all but speed-walked home in the exact same situation as before the interruption: maintaining a safe distance and in an awkward silence, though this time for a slightly different reason.

“I’m going to bed.” You announced immediately after walking through the front door, needing to sit in silence in the dark for a while longer.

Tyson.

Your brain just seemed to scream his name, and although you knew exactly what it meant, it didn’t mean you weren’t a little intimidated by the prospect of it. Only, when he came upstairs twenty-minutes later, you were laid on your side facing the window, and he didn’t bother to be quiet, probably assuming you weren’t asleep anyway, and threw a piece of screwed up paper onto your bedside table with an audible, resigned sigh.

You felt him hesitate, and you cracked your eyes open a little to see him with his hands over his face before they fell down to his sides in resignation. There was a hardness to his jaw and he looked…devastated.

It wasn’t until he’d gone into the bathroom that you unfurled the piece of paper, nerves haywire at what exactly could have caused such a dramatic change in demeanour.

Fuck.

Jamie’s number.

You placed the paper back where he put it, anxiety crushing through your system when there was a muted sigh from inside the bathroom, followed by a muffled bang.

#tyson jost oneshot #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #nhl oneshot #nhl fic #nhl imagine #martha's is pretty romantic

[serxinns]

How would the yandere class reacted to a vampire reader? She’s chill, and doesn’t care for much at first but also doesn’t take shit, but as she gets closer to the class she opens up- Imagine her powers cause her to stand out to people, like thinking she had a goddess like beauty and the reader doesn’t know. She just thinks she’s not hot.

Their Bloodsucking goddess

Your quirk is a vampire you don't feed on humans but on animals, you have super strength, super speed, can teleport, and fly, and also hypnotize people, have telekinesis and your weakness is iron, being in the sun for too long can cause rashes or even skin irritation, and silver as a kid you were bullied a lot at school people kept mocking your teeth and tell other kids that you eat humans try threatening you pushing you out into the sunlight everyone kept away from you until middle school you finally fought back giving your bullies a taste of your medicine and now you're in Ua

•At Ua your classmates label you as the chillest of the class and was very quiet whenever bakugo tried to insult you or try to argue with you still didn't say anything and still kept the same expression which made everyone surprise and bakugo more pissed

•You are good friends with your classmates even with the loud ones (Mina, Kirishima, Denki, hakagure) you were always their favorite person to talk to while ranting and loudly laughing at their jokes you would just sit there with a smile, and nod completely understanding what they said

•And you got along with your chill classmates(jirou, Tokoyami, Kota, shoto, shoji, etc) you and Jirou especially would listen to calm and quiet music and talk about you and her interests, and Tokoyami and Shoji would go to the library and read your books with soft music, Shoto and you would have this habit and lay on the floor while you answer some of his questions despising how dumb they are you can't explaining like "Why is the sky blue" " because it reflects off more shoto" or you and him would have some soba together and some nice cold ice tea

•Thats until there was a villain attack Mina got injured by some villain while you were battling and you had scratches and bruises yourself the villain was busy tauting you saying how weak and pathetic you are reminding you of your bulies you couldn't take it anymore and teleported your way to him knock him off the sky and beating the absolute shit out of him while cussing him while your some of your classmates watched in shocked, fear, and amused and bakugo, mina, denki, and hakagure cheered for you

•Now your classmates were already obsessed with you having a perfect body, as well with a gentle and kind demeanor what more could a girl/boy could want?!

•whenever you're talking to them they are so hypnotized by how your voice sounds, How you lazily look at them while you're talking if they want to they would want to record your voice and listen to it again and again and ur gentle arua always make them feel calm and good about themselves whenever you walk passed they'll always stare at you blushing at your body it's unbelievable

•how you'll always doubt yourself of being hot and adorable they would instantly compliment you saying how beautiful you and always reminds you of how a good "friend" (wishing they could be more) you would always think they're just being nice which makes them pout a bit and wanna cuddle and squeeze you while saying sweet nothings in your ears

•now back to the WWE villain match after that your classmates pulled you off the poor guy so he can go to jail

•They were worried so they rushed you and Mina off to the hospital mina had only a broken arm and some scratches while you had a just a few bruises and scratches but you were all right after the hospital your classmates were more obsessed and more in love with you then ever literally treating you like an absolute GODDESS worshipping you every min they can get even denki Started to call you that bakugo even complimented you

•Kirishima calls you manly whenever you spar or train with him, Mina thanks you over and over again mimicking your fighting moves, Jirou is in charge of making a playlist that can get you hyped up and ready to go, Izuku is now adding additional information about you in his notebook and also drawing doodles of you in different fighting clothing while also blushing when he draws ur figure, Ochako is writing fanfics about you and her and some of the classmates would also join is (if you want me to make a separate headcanons about that if u want)

•Ojiro is your number-one fighting partner the 2 of you teach each other different fighting techniques, momo is always buying you gifts and drag you into clothing shops with you, sato is always gifting you treats whenever you did something special (almost all the time), Kota would send his birds to give you these cute little envelops with animal prints with a good job

•at sleepovers the girls and boys would fight over who gets to spend the night in their dorm room

•if anyone talks badly about you or even try to mock you they're either injured badly the next day, blackmailed, or even gone missing depending on their mood

Whenever you go on field trips they would bicker about who gets to sit beside whom while ur in the back a bit nervous

•They a adored your calm and gentle nature now even fighting in the mix? Hell yeah! They'll support you and look after you and always devoted themselves to protect you their vampire godddess~

#yandere bnha #tw yandere #yandere ua #tw obsessive behavior #yandere x reader #tw blackmail #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #vampire reader #bnha oneshots #tw stalking

[slashingdisneypasta]

Imagine- Disney Villain sidekicks assuring you that villain's crazy about you when they're distracted by their villainy for a long time.

"Listen to me, toots, Jafar's crazy aboutcha! And I'm not just saying that, really, I mean- I think he's stealin' your underwear. But not just that! I also think, if ya left him- we'd all be dead! Yeah! So come on, lets put a smile back on that dial, yeah? We cant have ya mopin' around... what no I don't care about you, you're the only one that gives me the good snacks!" - Iago

"Nooooo, hahaha, no no no, Hades isn't getting bored of you! Stop crying, stop crying!" "Yeah! No! He's just busy! Running the underworld is no piece of cake, you know?" "Uhuh, uhuh, uhuh- " "I'm sure, after things die down, he'll pop up right back here again and give ya a BIG kiss." "Absolutely! Now eat your dinner, Hades'll kill us if he finds out we came and didn't feed you like he told us!" "Ohhhhhhh... hey, Panic, maybe we shoulda just said THAT when they started crying." "Oh Gods." - Pain and Panic

"What- what's happening here?" "They're crying, Banzai, you moron! Whatdaya thinks happening??" "Well what am I supposed to do about it!?" "Comfort them!!" "Okay, yeah I get that, BUT HOW!?" 'Ugh, get outta my way. Hey Y/N, uh... Scar's just... pent up at the moment! He'll stop being a dick real soon!" "Well would look at that, Shenzi!- you made them worse!" "Well why don't you try, meathead!?" "Would you stop calling me names!?- " "Wait- hold on hold on- what's Ed doing?" "Wha?- " "Is he... is that a hug?" "Maybe???" "It seems like its workin', lets just back away... " - Shenzi, Banzai and Ed

"Oh, Y/N, the Prince is just... temperamental. You cant take it to heart! Lord knows I don't, and I have proper reason to!- No, no, no, not that you don't have good reason to be upset, that's not what I meant!! Oh dear, oh dear... Look, PJ does love you! He's just got a lot on his mind right now, what with Robin Hood making him look a fool, and all... Right? Right. Come along now, we'll have some sweets from the kitchen, would that cheer you up?" - Sir Hiss

"Come on, Y/N... Gaston's not trying to make you feel bad, he just doesn't notice! What? That's not better?? Okay- Uh... You know what always cheers me up when he's been a big old meanie?? I remember how great he is. Lets do it! Together! Okay- NOOO OOOONEEES- oh, they're not singing with me... uh... Uh uh uh- Heyy, why dont you stare into the fire a while?, it helps when Gaston's in a funk or OH!- What about a foot massage? Gaston says I'm good at that!- " - LeFou

"Oh dear dear dear- The Captain isn't going to leave you, Y/N! He's just excited, is all! Thinks he's got a real shot at Pan this time, he does! Like a kid at Christmas! I'm sure, once he's done with the poor boy he'll run right back here and apologise- he really doesn't mean to be rude, you know!! He just forgets his head sometimes! Now sit down, sit down, I'll make you some tea and you'll feel good as new no time." - Mr Smee

They aren't great at it but they're trying XDD

(You've gotta try and imagine them in their voices XD Especially Iago and Smee)

#Disney Villains Imagine #Imagine #Disney Villain Sidekicks Imagine #Disney Villains #Disney Villain Sidekicks #Iago #Disney Iago #Pain and Panic #Disney Pain and Panic #Shenzi Banzai and Ed #Disney Shenzi #Disney Banzai #Disney Ed #Disney Hyenas #Sir Hiss #Disney Sir Hiss #LeFou #Disney LeFou #Mr Smee #Disney Mr Smee #Smee #Disney Smee

[shaved-wampa]

How can you not understand Bode..?

I had a thought. So I wrote a rant.

If you have kids, you probably understand already. But I can imagine most of the fanbase that actually played the game is pretty young. So I figured I can translate the situation for you:

...

Imagine you have this very special dog/cat. It's special, because you love it very much, but it's also well trained, obediend, deeply loyal, smart, cute,... just perfect. You would do anything for it.

But you are being hunted. You live on the run, moving from place to place, never settling down anywhere. You don't have a place you could call 'home'. You barely even interact with people, because you don't know who to trust. You don't go on long walks or to parks.

You sit inside an unfamiliar room with the curtains drawn and speak in hushed voices.

Your pet loves you and it tries hard to understand why you have to do this. But it's tired, depressed and this lifestyle is starting to take a toll on its health. You can see the pleading in its eyes every time you get up to move to yet another place: "let's stay, let's make a home, please".

But you can't. The only friend and family you have is your pet and you have to protect it at all costs; you've already lost too much and are broken to your core - you couldn't survive loosing your pet, too.

There's no one to help you, you're very lonely and very scared. There is nowhere you can run where they wouldn't find you. No way to make them stop.

Except one: submit.

You give yourself up to the people who hunt you, and do their bidding in exchange for a comfortable life and yours and your beloved pet's safety. You hope this will bring you more happiness. You hope to finally live a life that resembles the one you used to have.

And it works - at least at first. Before you betray the first friends you made under false pretenses. Before you watch your new bosses wipe out a settlement just because you reported 'enemy' presence there. Before you pay the price and the guilt sets in.

Your pet can feel how hard it is for you. It hates being left alone for so long, in this cold place where no one likes it. It hates how changed you are every time you return; it can feel the shadows that begin to claw at you and eat your soul. But it loves you and will do as you say.

So you keep up the game, clinging to the thought of providing stability and happiness for your pet. You lie and you steal and you betray and you kill. Every time a little piece of you dies, but it's okay, it's so that you and your precious pet could live well. It's worth the cost. It must be....

And little by little, the darkness surrounds you. It's so gradual you don't even notice. All you can see is the worry on your pet's face. It doesn't have the ability to explain why it's worried. You are still alone, even surrounded by all these people.

Then you find someone who you can actually consider family and have a real shot at being happy - it's a dizzying feeling, and for a moment, you believe you've finally caught your break.

But then they decide to take away your chance at the life you and your pet deserve and fought so fucking hard for... (and some gorgeous pickled jerk makes you hallucinate your worst fears ever as if they were absolutely real)... and that's the last straw. The last fucking drop of shit your life tosses at you. You crack.

You break and you break everything precious around you.

...

Now, I understand that people have different tastes in everything, and that Bode will never be some folks' cup of tea - and that's fine with me. But if you've reached this point of my story, can you at least finally see why he does what he does?

It's not an excuse. Nothing can really excuse the casualties of his quest for a better life for his daughter. But I hope we can at least agree that the circumstances weren't exactly in favor of "good" Bode.

Good Bode got fucked. Good Bode lost family, twice. Good Bode had to drag his child across the whole bleeding galaxy and feed them stolen scraps to keep them alive. Good Bode never stood a chance.

Bad Bode saved their lives. The fates of the people he was responsible for would have likely been sealed anyway, with the help of someone else. That was the regime. It squeezed the holy shit out of you until you either died, rebelled or submitted.

And Bode had a child to think of, so you can scratch the first two options.

So excuse me while I go simp for this man and write fics to put some good fortune in his path for a change. He deserves both.

#bode akuna #jedi survivor #star wars #rant

[mayullla]

Since the anons feel that the dollhouse au is too cute to be real horror, I shall try to submit more scary yandere asks. I already gave you the analog horror idea. Now, imagine Toy Story with a twist. When it comes to dolls, kids like to roleplay and such. As a little girl, MC has gone through all the tropes—especially the Prince Charming and Fairy Tales. Imagine if she ends up inviting or being invited by a playmate and said playmate ends up taking the roles of that some dolls consider to be theirs alone??? Also, MC starts missing special days that she dubs "costume day" where she makes new outfits for the dolls or "tea party day" where she just sings/dances with the dolls while having a tea party. At first, they tolerate it since she's happy and they still get to participate in playtime...but when that playmate starts getting cocky and makes fun of MC??? The chaos, the scheming...that kid will never have a peaceful life, or have a life at all by the time he gets back home.

Three days later, that playmate is moving away with their family but then got involved in a car accident. Police says faulty brakes are to blame. How tragic.

☆Starlight Anon

Continuation: Better yet in that childhood playmate asks is if the kid remained sincerely but the dolls got annoyed anyway because...well, they're all possessive yanderes for MC lol Warnings: Blood, violence, horror, child's death (all in a nightmare.. technically) dead dove do not eat, read at your own risk. Genshin haunted dolls au [Fem!child!reader]

Well, it looked innocent enough? Your new friend was an attention seeker even at a young age she was proud and maybe a bit arrogant but hey she was just a kid.

When she told you about many things she knew and did and showed you things that made your eyes sparkle you thought that she was so cool, that she was amazing! You tried to come into her life finding her so amazing and she let you with a smug smile.

The relationship was cute really, the way you would follow her wherever she went in the school. She was your best friend or that was supposed to be the case. She was a spoiled girl, she wanted everything for herself, the play dates of roleplay games you and her played all had her become the princess or the lady while you were either the prince or the maid that was supposed to save her or serve her.

She would never let you become the princess of the story, even if you want to be even if you voice it she would not give it to you. Even if your parents saw it, their mother didn't know what to do with her while your mother would say that it was all right. But you can also see the concern she had looking over you.

But you liked her... you like her as a friend so you can't help but stick to her. She was so cool really.

Even as she took everything from your small hands.

Yet it seems there was a tipping point, it was bound to happen one day or another she only continued to grow hotty and selfish. It was that time when you were playing at the playground sandbox, you and she were playing with your dolls something about princess and knights with her own doll. As the princess, she commanded the attention of all the knights to her telling them that they should fall for her looks and charms. That they must swear an oath to her as the princess to protect her.

It was slowly getting dark when both yours and her parents called you and her telling you that you need to go back home now. Getting up you tried to take your dolls back but it seems that she started to take a liking to a few of them refusing to give them back to you.

"Give them back." You asked, so close to crying. "Don't be a crybaby I am just borrowing your dolls." She huffed as she held on to your dear dolls close. You didn't understand why she was taking your dolls when you told her no but she kept on insisting that she was just borrowing them to continue the roleplay back at her home.

Before you could do anything she was running back to her mother, who asked what those dolls were and why she has them. "Oh, ______ let me borrow them."

Your mother found you sniffling in the sandbox, crying in her arms you told her what happened.

However it was too late to get them back, your mother would try to get them back but she didn't have the phone number of the girl's mother nor does she know where does that girl live.

She told you that she would try to get them the next day yet that never happened.

Her father had somehow found your home past midnight and dropped off the dolls, apologizing to you and your family for his daughter and coming so late in the night. While he would have given these dolls later at a more appropriate time his daughter has been screaming ever since midnight.

She continued to chant at the dolls to get away from her, throwing them to the farthest corner. They tried to do everything to calm the girl down but she kept of screeching that it hurts and to make the pain stop. They could not calm her down and this was the last thing they thought of. Your parents showed concern for the tired man and thanked him for giving them back your dolls. You were also happy that your dolls have been returned but even you were concerned to what happened to your friend.

But she didn't come to school the next day but you heard the teachers whisper among each other that she was at the hospital, from screaming so much to the point of coughing out blood. Nothing was working and she kept on begging someone whom the parents and doctors don't know to leave her, to let her go.

You don't need to know really. It was her fault after all.

Dressed in a beautiful princess dress and a tiara on her head her stomach was decorated with many swords pierced through her. Over and over she would be a prince to nothing but a corps on the ground.

Over and over faceless knights stabbed her stomach within a dreary castle. She was all alone, she could not see reality even with her eyes open. She could not see the white walls of the hospital but a brick wall covered in blood as another sword price through her abdomen.

So matter how many swords pierced her there was always room for one more.

The pain doesn't numb at all, and when the small girl screamed again and again to stop it never did.

Note: What a dream... if she heals she won't be wearing any more princess dresses or tiaras looking at them would probably make her sick

#genshin haunted dolls au #tw horror #tw yandere #genshin writing #genshin imagine #genshin scenarios #genshin impact au #genshin imapct #dead dove do not eat #platonic yandere imagine #haunted dolls #yandere imagine #yandere writing #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin drabble #genshin asks

[flooftyfizzlebeans]

Not me thinking about the desperate situation that would lead to cannibalism

I'm imagining the temperature drops. Over the course of a few days, the snow on the mountain creeps downwards until the whole town is soft and blanketed. Maybe the island drifted north. Maybe it's a Snakolyte plot to save us from the hivemind. Maybe it doesn't matter.

Crops die. Bugsnax disappear. Soon the town scatters once again.

Some stay put where Filbo dependably makes a fire every day. Some try to flee to the desert, only to find the temperatures are only slightly warmer. It doesn't make up for the lack of shelter.

Lizbert and Eggabell are forgotten.

Of course Snorpy and Chandlo flee. Beffica too. They'd rather go alone than see what is inevitably going to happen.

Those that remain take refuge in Grmables barn. As the snow grows heavier, we have to huddle for warmth. Make fire indoors. It's too cold out to chop trees. My frostbitten fingers are proof enough of that. We're running low on firewood. Everyone is so hungry. Our paradise frozen before their very eyes.

Cromdo drops the salesman bit and uses all of his stock trying to keep the group alive. Shelda's meager rations keep hope in their eyes. Floofty has a few chemicals that won't kill is to burn for warmth.

But.... The morning when Floofty desperately tries to shake Shelda awake to no avail... Neither Filbo or I are strong enough to keep the fighting from breaking out.

Blows are exchanged, the shouting becomes too much. Harsh words turn to claws on flesh, blood in the deep snow. Filbo drops like a stone. I feel a paw take mine and drag me out of the town.

When I come out of my daze, Cromdo's made a fire in a cave, put a blanket over my shocked form. Hes making pine needle tea. Surprisingly, going up the mountain might save us.

"Who am I kidding? There's no hope." I sigh.

"I know, but that doesn't mean you stop fighting. Just means you change tactic." Cromdo scolds me.

"And run like cowards?" I poke the fire aimlessly. "They're dead down there. We're all dead."

"We survived because we're cowards. We'll keep surviving like cowards."

I sit with that. He pours me another cup.

"Yknow, I chose this cave because I hid some booze in here. Think Beffica took it before I could though."

I smile. The thought is nice.

I stare into the fire, replying the images in my mind. I know what I must do.

When Cromdo falls asleep, I tick him in, and leave him alone.

When he awakes the next morning, he awakes to a fantastic smell. Bacon? Hamburgers? He's never smelled anything like it before in his life.

He gets out of his cocoon of stolen blankets, catching me setting the table. One of my blankets for a tablecloth, plates from.... somewhere. Forks and knives. There's a stick in the middle I'm trying to light on fire to try and simulate a candle.

On the plates are large cuts of meat, cooked and served beautifully.

"Hey, kid? What are you-"

"Have a seat, sir."

....and he does. He sits across from me, both of us bundled up.... but keeping up the charade that it's a fancy restaurant. I see him hesitate... before taking the first bite.

"Wow, I didn't know you could cook."

"I didn't need to, until now."

We chat. We talk about our normal lives. What we did in the city. The lives we left behind for this dump. He talks about his daughter. His ex wife. I talk about the string of unlucky articles that put me on thin ice.

His hand finds mine once again. This time, it's an invitation to stay near.

We finish our dishes.

"I really... enjoyed this." He starts.

"Me too."

"So uh.... who did we just eat?"

...

"I don't think it's best to know." I say.

Cromdo thinks for a moment.

"Yeah, you're right."

We sit in silence.

His paw on mine, he leads us back to bed. We're both so tired. We lay down on the cold stone floor, wrapped in each other's arms, under all our cloth and blankets and insulation...both deciding...

not to keep the fire burning.

The sun sets.

The sun rises on an empty Snaktooth. No grumpsues. No bugsnax. No life.

Only blood and ice.

#soph talking bugsnax #bugsnax #major character death #cannibalism #Cromdo face #what the fuck did I just write #I promise that was not me that was a writing demon